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#he had that shit custom made too
terraos · 6 months
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Three days of hard work! My sims are living luxury lives (they're all so mad all of the time)
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oldfritz · 7 months
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i often think about the creepy saudi guy i met at a club in tampa and his equally creepy friend
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oflgtfol · 9 months
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i spent 5 hours today doing framing, an hour and a half of which was me alone in frame shop, i made such cooooool frames i really wish i could post them but Alas. customer confidentiality
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bibiana112 · 1 year
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Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to
#unsolicited advice is somewhere in the middle of these two that's not what I'm talking about#I'm just so bothered that some straight old lady on the boot besides mine kept treating me like a fucking child#because I was on my own#my father and my sibling were willing to help I just felt more comfortable doing sales on my own#cause I can't bounce between scripts that easy#and she kept talking down on me and once we left on the first day she said something like ''tomorrow will be better okay?''#COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED and it's stuck in my mind so bad#someone else across from me also thought I was bummed out but one they were school kids trying to help and two THEY FUCKING ASKED#once they asked and I explained myself we continued to get along I thought it was sweet and they clearly were looking up to me#like on terms of art skill and such#it was very nice I thanked them before leaving and I assured them I was having fun but I'm just not from there and work differently#they said I was nice and asked for advice getting commission work from overseas#but the lady literally only babied me her son was also uncomfortably trying to make conversation as if I couldn't be left to my own devices#god it just makes me so mad!#I know how I look and I know me being cold in the first day didn't help my disposition be very energetic at all but gooood#who asked for life advice. not me you don't know what I'm doing with mine leave me alone#MEANWHILE that bearded dude who called the cat a dog??? Left while criticizing how I organized my shit#solid physical things I could adjust without too much effort and that would make it easier for customers#and you know what?? he left and I was thankful and Made those Adjustments because it had a clear reason why it affected him#and it made SENSE to fix it'd just improve quality of service#the guy came back later with his kids and he was super cool#anyway experiences experiences I am going to bite anyone who's that condescending to me again#Void fala aí#also i didn't know how to describe her ''old'' was probably incorrect she was your average karen age
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faexoxoxoxo · 2 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓...
ᓚᘏᗢ basketball player gojo x reader x basketball player geto.
✎⁠ 18+, overstimulation, pure filth, smuttt...
✎⁠ dividers by @cafekitsune
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It was simple, really.
Suguru loved you, Satoru loved you, and they both wanted to see you wearing a jersey that had their name on it during the teams basketball tournaments.
Again, simple. They could've worked out a schedule and taken turns having you wear the names. Heck, you even offered to customize a new jersey with both their names on it, but nooo, like everything else in life, your boyfriends just had to make a bet about this.
Whoever made you cum the hardest got to have you wear their jersey.
~~~
“Aww, look at your pretty pussy, baby. filled her up real good, huh? Such a greedy little hole...”
God, you wished you could smack the proud grin off Satoru's face, but right now, with his head between your thighs, long tongue dipping into your weeping, overstimulated, cum filled pussy, all that came out of you was a broken string of soft whimpers and moans, twisting and turning as Satoru coxed you over the edge for the third time.
You tried to squirm away, but they wouldn't let you. Suguru had a firm grip on your legs, keeping them wide open, while Satoru seemed drunk of your juices and his own cum, hungrily lapping at everything you had, refusing to let a single drop of it go to waste.
Turning your head, your dazed eyes met Suguru's silently pleading with him to tell Satoru to back off, to put an end to this little game of theirs, but all you got in return was a smile. The smug bastard was enjoying this; it was obvious, with the growing strain in his pants and a barely noticeable flush on his face. It came as no surprise, really; you already knew how much Suguru loved watching you get ruined by Satoru.
“Hmm, What's wrong, princess? Satoru's not pleasing you enough?” Suguru cooed, wiping the drool off your lips with his fingers as you sucked in a deep breath.
“Ahhh...S...Suguru...no more…”
They really needed to stop; you'd pass out if they kept on making you cum...
“Nuh uh, baby, I plan to win this” Suguru laughed. Your teary eyed, fucked out expression, coupled with the plea, was enough to make him rock hard, “not about to let you wear this idiot's jersey tomorrow,” giving a harsh slap to your thigh and making you gasp, his grin widened, hand now moving to pull Satoru's head away from your cunt.
“Hey!” Satoru groaned, “Fuck you, man, everyone knows I'm the strongest.” cussing the black haired man as he’s pushed aside.
“Right, right,” Suguru mocked his playmate, flipping you onto your back, “now be a good boy and lemme show you how it's really done.”
Without warning, he'd filled you up, with one hard swift thrust, hips slamming against your ass as he ferociously rutted into your weeping cunt, “My dirty little slut” Suguru grunted as you sobbed into the pillows.
"Sugu…ahhhh…noo can't…slow," you mewled back, arching instinctively as his cock kept on hitting the sensitive spot that made your brain turn to mush, “need to cum... Sugu...please, please, please, lemme cum.” You babbled, starting to feel the familiar coil building up inside your tummy.
“Yea? Gonna cream around daddy, and make him win...” Suguru taunted menacingly, angling himself to hit your sweat spot over and over again, while making eye contact with Satoru, who'd begun moaning while fisting his own hard, reddened cock.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you chanted fervently, toes curling as you moaned out little yeses and pleases. He'd done it again, Suguru’s dick always managed to reduce you into nothing more than a brain dead cock slut.
"Fuck...go on then,” he breathed, voice raspy and deep a sign that he was close too. “Lets show Satoru what a good girl you are for me.”
Your body quivers. Feeling Suguru throbbing inside your tightening pussy, you let out a soundless scream before coming all over his cock.
The sight was enough to have Satoru fall over the edge. “Shit... princess,” he groaned, looking at you through hooded eyes, as his cum spilled onto the bed and his abs in hot spurts. “Now I get why this asshole loves watching me fuck you.”
Chuckling, Suguru pulled you closer to his chest, keeping on fucking you ruthlessly through your high, making you whimper. “Gonna fill you up so much; you'll be leaking for days, princess,” he let out a long groan, his head falling back, thrusts growing hard and slow until he finally stilled inside you, his hot load filling you up to the brim as promised, his dark violet eyes meeting Satoru's sparkling blue ones.
“Damn it.” Satoru swore knowingly, he never liked admitting defeat, but Suguru'd won this round with his dick game. Well, no matter, this just meant he'd have to try harder again next time...
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✎⁠ I've always done character x reader, and this is my first attempt at character x reader x character so don't know how well I wrote it but hope you guys enjoyed...
✎⁠ likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated⁠ ♡
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augustinewrites · 4 months
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satoru bday fic! cw: suggestive
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gojo thinks he should be nominated for boyfriend of the year.
not only had he managed to get the kids to school on time, pick up the groceries, get all his reports in to principal yaga, and clean the kitchen, but he’d managed to do it all while extremely hungover on his birthday. 
he’d even managed to do it all before you’d even gotten out of bed.
he doesn’t blame you for sleeping in. the impromptu birthday party he’d thrown had left you all in quite the state by the early hours of morning. you need the re—
“satoru! could you come in here for a second?”
“coming!” he calls back, shoving the coupon that’d fallen from shoko’s birthday card into his wallet before making his way to the bedroom. “hey, let’s get some frozen yogurt when the kids get ho— holy shit.”
your face breaks out into a grin of triumph at his sudden silence. gojo’s rightfully stunned, carefully studying each bit of revealing lace and the way it sits against your body before committing it to memory. 
“is that…”
“the set you had commissioned in paris,” you hum, nonchalant as you drag your fingertips up your hip. “that’s the one.”
he takes a few slow steps toward where you are and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, arousal warming his whole body. “but you said you’d never wear it because—”
“because i was saving it for something special,” you finish, leaning up and shifting towards him. “like your birthday.” 
“well,” he sighs as you close the distance between you. “i should unwrap my gift then.”
“please try not to tear it,” you murmur as his lips brush over your pulse. “i’d very much like to wear it again, and i, oh, i saw the charge on the credit card…”
his reply is no more than a distracted hum as you shift onto his lap, allowing curious hands to explore your body and hungry lips to move against yours. 
the lace is soft on your skin, his hands eagerly working to undo the ties holding up delicate florals and sheer material. 
“satoru, i need you.” your breath is warm against his skin, exciting him more as he goes to pull off garter belt.
“uh, babe?”
“hm?”
“how do you take this off?”
_____
“well, i connected it to this piece—”
“but we can’t take this piece off unless we take this one off too. that doesn’t make any sense.” 
“i’m telling you, that’s how i put it on.”
“then why won’t it come off?”
it’s then that gojo decides custom lingerie should come with instructions. when he’d designed it, he hadn’t actually considered the logistics of this operation.
“okay,” you huff, turning around and placing your hands on his shoulders. “you’re just going to have to tear it.”
“fine by me,” he grins, slightly smug as he curls his fingers around the expensive material and tears—
the two of you scramble up when the front door slams open. it’s in that moment you realize that satoru hadn’t closed the bedroom door. 
“mom!” you hear megumi shout, his stomps echoing through the apartment. “tsumiki ate one of my snacks!”
“shit, fuck.” cursing, you grab his discarded t-shirt and slip it on before jumping into bed. satoru slips in next to you, pulling the duvet up to your chins and pressing against you from behind.
“satoru!” you hiss when you feel something poke the back of your thigh. 
“we just made out for like ten minutes,” he whispers back, only pulling you closer. “you didn’t think i’d get one?”
“put it away!”
“i could, but—”
you manage to summon one of your divine dogs in time for it push the bedroom door closed, breathing a sigh of relief when the kid’s footsteps come to a halt. 
“we’ll be out in a second!” you call, hearing their hushed argument as they trudge back to the kitchen.
“i might need more than a second…”
you hit satoru in the face with a pillow. “you’ll get the rest of your birthday gift tonight, after you drop the kids off at nanami’s.
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lisired · 2 months
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wish i never
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pairing: Jaehyun x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, angst, debatable morals, unprotected sex, brother’s worst enemy, forbidden love, mark’s dad is a cop for the sake of plot, mentions of drugs and drug-related death
summary: Your brother, Johnny, hates Jaehyun and has never told you why. Although you intend on leaving it alone, unforeseen events thrust you into a forbidden love affair with Jaehyun. In between hookups and stolen kisses, you have to bury your feelings for Jaehyun around your overprotective older brother.
word count: 27.2k (listen… i don’t know anymore okay)
a/n: this one lowkey kinda hit different for me cause i’ve had a forbidden love and it broke me. you can kinda tell by how long this is lol ya girl went all OUT. as always, feedback is appreciated!
“Absolutely not.”
“Dude, come on,” Mark whined. 
“Hell the fuck no,” Yuta barked firmly, crossing his arms. “The last time we gave you shrooms, you texted Johnny to ask him where your phone was.”
“And?”
“You texted him from your own phone,” Yuta deadpanned. 
You snickered. Your best friend and drugs were an infamously egregious combination. Mark Lee sober was already full of shit, but Mark Lee high on whatever substance he could get his hands on? Indescribably bad. You couldn’t think of a word to even explain it.
Mark gestured over to you. “But you gave her drugs.”
Yuta grimaced. “First of all, don’t say that too loud. Johnny will kill me. Second of all, she can actually handle her shit and what can I say? She's a loyal customer.”
You added, “Plus I’m not doing fucking shrooms. Yuta just deals me weed. If Johnny ever found out I was doing anything else, he would have a fit.”
Mark huffed something under his breath about how shrooms were the softest of soft drugs there were, not that it would’ve helped his case. 
Your lips curled into a grin as you joked, “Why don’t you just chug Jeno’s notorious punch and call it a night? That’s what I’m gonna do.” 
“I’ve actually got plans with a chick who’s been dying to chug my notorious punch. I’ll be back later. Save me a drink, dude,” Mark said, grinning from ear to ear at a text message on his screen. Probably from the aforementioned chick that was begging to blow him, or so he said. 
You pretended to wince, but gave him a high five in celebration. “Aye, aye, captain,” you chirped, saluting him. 
After Mark made a break for the stairs, you abandoned Yuta to make a beeline for the drink bar. There was no such thing as a party with some of your boys without drugs and alcohol. Your brother was an overprotective nuisance, but even he knew it was impossible to keep you away from your shots and the occasional marijuana.
Plus it would've been hypocritical as all hell, so he let it slide. Not that you wanted to press your luck with something harder. On some nights you were a little drunk and a little high, and it brought out the worst in you. You were certain all of Johnny's friends kept blackmail worthy videos of you doing the unspeakable and you were content with never knowing what all those fuckers had on you. The embarrassment would be enough to kill.
You clocked one girl dry-heaving in the corner on the way and it was all the discouragement required to make you reach for a can of beer instead. To your surprise, it seemed like somebody had a similar plan, their hand coincidentally dropping on the same one. 
"Oh, I'm sorry. You can have it…," you trailed, glancing up to make eye contact with nobody less than the devil incarnate.
Ricky looked surprised to see you, though you weren’t sure why. If Jeno was throwing a party, you were bound to be in attendance. “What up, baby? Long time no see.”
“Ricky, you lost the right to call me that the second I caught you with your pants to your ankles in a closet with what's-her-face.”
More importantly, you were frankly surprised to see him there. Your stupid ex was many things, none good, and his audacity? It was out of control. Part of you wanted to commend him, because it took guts to show his face around your side of town after you yanked his trousers down in front of everyone and their mother. 
And yet he took that retort in stride. “Baby, how many times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry? It was a mistake and I’ll never make it again.”
“You’re absolutely right,” you replied, bobbing your head in agreement. “You’re a sorry motherfucker and you’ll never make it again, because we’re done for good.”
But Ricky just couldn’t take the hint that you were so fucking over anything that had to do with him and crept closer, continuing darkly, “Don’t you know you’re nothing without me? Nothing!”
Having surrounded yourself with enough drunk and high people countless times, it was obvious that Ricky was under the influence, which made him extremely capricious. He looked a grand total of two seconds away from reaching out and seizing you by your arm. 
Your eyes darted across the room for anybody you knew, but it was difficult when dancing bodies obscured them from your field of view. Yuta had probably wandered to snag more drug deals, Mark was getting his dick wet, and Johnny and Taeyong were nowhere to be found. 
You were about to resign yourself to the fact that you were positively out of luck until you heard a deep baritone ask from beside you, “Do we have a problem over here?”
It took all of two seconds to recognize its owner. Jeong Jaehyun, sang the little chorus in your head. Your brother’s worst enemy. The beef seemed more than a little one-sided, but you didn’t ask questions. For whatever reason, the mere mention of Jaehyun’s name made your brother tense. 
It was clear that Ricky was sizing Jaehyun up and he snapped with potent venom, “Who the fuck are you?”
“The host’s cousin,” Jaehyun said, looking tall and foreboding, as if he was daring somebody to challenge him. “And you are?”
“The love of her life.”
You didn’t know how he could confidently lie like that, though you wouldn’t be surprised if he wholeheartedly believed it, which was downright terrifying. You learned the hard way that this boy was as self-centered as they came. 
Jaehyun took one look at you, and the glaringly obvious discomfort on your face, and replied, "Yeah, I don't think she wants to be around you. If I were you, I'd get the fuck out of here and never come back."
Ricky chuckled. "And if I don't?"
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Fuck around and find out," was all he said. His lips were drawn into a line and his gaze was fixed to your ex's idiotic face with a lethal stare. Not to mention Jaehyun had a couple of inches on him, which made you resist a satisfied little grin.
Obviously, Ricky wanted to stay and claim you as his pretty property, but even the lack of inhibitions didn’t hinder his judgment at that moment. Like any wise person would, he made a beeline for the closest exit. It was common sense that Jeno and his associates were not to be fucked with. 
Your shoulders relaxed when Ricky was gone. If anything, he had gotten off easy. He was lucky that you had no clue where Johnny was. You were positive he would’ve knocked the sense out of him, if he had any, which was debatable. 
“Insufferable prick,” you grumbled under your breath. Then, you glanced up to Jaehyun, who, to your surprise, was already looking at you. “Thanks, Jaehyun. I don’t know what he would’ve done if you weren’t here.”
Jaehyun still looked a little pissed, but your words seemed to make him soften. “You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s basic human decency.”
“And some people don’t even have that,” you replied, intending for it to be a joke, but it came out a little more melancholy. 
If Jaehyun noticed, he said nothing about it.
Before he could even if he wanted to, something stitched your brows together and you mentioned, “Hey, I didn’t know Jeno was your cousin.”
“Me, neither.”
It took a second for that to settle in, but once you finally understood, amusement broke the confusion tensing your face and your lips parted in laughter. Jaehyun joined you. His bold-faced little white lie saved your ass, but ironically, that wasn’t what you were focused on. 
It was those deep, adorable dimples on both of his cheeks that somehow made him even more handsome. 
Instantly, something in you chided, Bitch, don’t check him out. He’s your brother’s worst enemy. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think you’re getting laid tonight just because he’s playing nice.
“I should go,” you said after a minute, finally grabbing a beer. “Thanks again. I really appreciate it.”
You escaped before Jaehyun could tell you not to thank him. His eyes were fixed to your back, following you until you were obscured completely by partygoers. He knew you were Johnny’s sister, but damn, you were kinda cute. 
At least for now, Jaehyun wouldn’t play with fire. Johnny almost kicked his ass one time and he wasn’t exactly keen on getting his ass handed to him. 
You were half tempted to stop by Jeno’s room to check if any of the guys were passing a blunt around in there, but the last time your curiosity got the better of you, you accidentally walked in on Jeno shirtless with some half-naked girl. Not a sight you wanted to relive, so you kept downstairs. 
Your eyes scanned the living room for any familiar faces, but it was difficult to tell if anybody was there. There was a gigantic crowd dancing to Kiss Me Thru The Phone and you chuckled at a certain memory of Mark drunk-singing along to the lyrics. 
“There you are,” came a familiar voice beside you. Your gaze flitted to Johnny, whose face was stitched with concern. “Taeyong told me that he saw you with Jaehyun. You good?”
“I’m fine,” you hollered over the music. “Just heartbroken that Mark abandoned me to get laid.”
Any other time, Johnny would’ve laughed, but his lips were pressed into a solid line. “Have you had anything?”
You rolled your eyes and exhaled a breath. “Just the beer in my hand, Johnny.”
He studied your face, as if he was attempting to figure out whether or not you were telling the truth, but ultimately decided to believe you. “Listen, I just wanna look out for you. You’re my little sister. If anything were to happen to you...”
“Mom and Dad would kill you and dump your body in the woods for bears to find. Yes, I know,” you groaned exasperatedly, cutting him off. “I get it, Johnny. But I need you to get that I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“If you were a little girl, you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t give you weed.”
That comment wasn’t even worth a roll of your eyes. You took a sip of beer and ignored it. 
“Why were you around Jaehyun anyways?” Johnny asked. It was obviously the question he was itching to ask. Probably wanted to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t making any advances. 
The memory of your bastard ex getting uncomfortably close to you after reaching for a drink he clearly didn’t need, raising his voice at you in a way no woman should ever accept, made you shudder. “Ricky decided to try and win me back. If you can even call it that.”
Johnny immediately perked up in anger. “What?”
“Relax. Jaehyun already took care of him. That’s why he was there. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I swear to god, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” Johnny hissed, looking a total of five seconds away from giving someone a piece of his mind. 
“Ricky, or Jaehyun?”
“Does it matter?”
You shrugged. Your lips parted to ask why he hated Jaehyun in the first place, but you cut yourself off. There was a reason why you didn’t ask him months ago. Johnny might’ve been overprotective, but that was because he was your brother and he loved you. When he was ready, he would tell you. 
The night dragged on. This one was a little more boring than usual, but that could’ve been chalked up to you still being shaken up about your encounter with your ex. You almost considered what would’ve happened had Jaehyun not been around to intervene, but your mind dared not wander there. 
Part of you wanted to know where he was camping out at. Surely, he had to be around here somewhere, but you weren’t going to look. Especially not with Johnny on high alert. He was being extra careful, wanting to be there in case your ex was crazy enough to return.
You listed what you knew about Jeong Jaehyun. For one, he was fine as hell. That was undeniable. Secondly, he was lowkey, which was why you essentially knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous. 
Sure, he made an appearance at these parties every now and then, but most of the time he kept to a tight-knit circle of friends and if they weren’t there, there was no way in hell he was coming. Sometimes his roommates’ threw parties at their house, but he rarely went downstairs, preferring to linger in his room doing fuck knows what. 
You honestly couldn’t blame him. People sucked. Most of them, anyways. 
Only one day later, you were gripping an overlook, peering down at little critters splashing in the lake from the bridge above. For a long time, there was nobody there to join you other than your little nonhuman friends. You liked coming here every now and then to clear your head. It was your safe place, your happy place. 
The sky was cloudy but there was only a nine percent chance of rain this afternoon, thus you weren’t too worried. You needed to go somewhere. Home was too isolating, but everywhere else was too open. 
You could be happy here. There were no entitled assholes or overprotective brothers around to get on your nerves every five seconds. It was only you and the gifts of nature. 
And somebody else. 
“I thought that was you,” said somebody from your side. 
Imagine your shock when you turned and saw Jeong Jaehyun jogging towards you. In the fucking flesh. 
It was harder not to check him out this time. The man was practically drenched head to toe in sweat, his very exposed skin glistening with moisture. The shirt he was wearing hugged his chest and it was all you could do not to salivate. 
Rather than continue to rake your eyes up his frame, you asked playfully, “Are you stalking me, Jeong Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun’s eyes twinkled with mirth. God, how come you never noticed how pretty and brown they were? “Actually, I’m surprised. I was cutting through here instead of my usual jog route. The weather looked pretty bad.”
You snickered, crossing your arms. “You didn’t check the forecast before you left the house? It’s not gonna rain. Probably.”
Jaehyun furrowed a brow. “Probably?”
“That guy on the news is an infamous liar,” you grumbled under your breath. 
Jaehyun chuckled. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, coming closer to the railing where you were, but kept a safe distance between your bodies lest he made you uncomfortable. “I told you why I’m here. What about you?”
Your nose got an instant waft of Jaehyun’s scent and it was godly, which was shocking considering he was literally sweating everywhere. “Oh, you know. I come here from time to time to think, or to not think. Depending on what the situation calls for.”
“Really?”
You bobbed your head. “Yeah. Why?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “Nothing,” was what he said, but in reality, he was thinking about how he passed this bridge nearly every goddamn day and never knew if he took a detour, he’d potentially cross paths with a pretty little thing like you. 
You lifted a brow, but didn’t press. 
“Are you… okay?” Jaehyun reluctantly asked. 
You bobbed your head. “Yup, I’m alright. It’s just that Ricky approaching me has Johnny on edge, so now whenever I go out he and his friends are watching me like a bunch of hawks.” 
Jaehyun winced. “Damn. That must suck.”
“I get he’s doing it from a place of love, but fuck, sometimes I just wanna be left the hell alone, you know?”
Jaehyun nodded. God, did he know. And not only because he was an overwhelmingly introverted dude. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
That caught your attention. “You do?”
Jaehyun scratched the back of his head. “I mean, I don’t have an overprotective brother, but I do have an overprotective mother. It’s sweet and all, but do you know what it makes you look like when you’re on a date with a girl and your mom won’t stop calling you?”
Your lips couldn’t help but curl into a grin. “Aw, you’re a Momma’s boy.”
“This is exactly what I mean,” Jaehyun groaned. 
“No, it’s… cute,” you said, but it was impossible to control the giggles falling from your lips. “Most of the guys I know like that are sweethearts. Johnny, Mark. Maybe you.”
Jaehyun found that amusing. “You think I’m a sweetheart?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe. I don’t know you well enough to decide, but seemingly, sure.”
“Do you want to?”
“Do I want to what?”
“Know me better,” Jaehyun said, tentative. Almost as if he wasn’t sure what he wanted.
That was the million dollar question. On the one hand, Jaehyun was cute and it most likely wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time together, but on the other, there was the Johnny thing. You groaned. “God, Johnny would have a heart attack if he knew I was with you right now. Maybe even an aneurysm.”
Jaehyun snickered with mischief. “Who said that he has to know?”
That response downright shocked you. You weren’t expecting it from somebody like him, though then again, you knew virtually nothing about this boy and it only made you want to sate your curiosity. “Ooh. You’re trouble, Jeong Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun took that in stride. “I’m guessing you like that.”
Taking a step closer, you started to close the gap between you that Jaehyun had created for your sake. “Hm, you know what they say.”
“I don’t think I do.” 
“It’s always the quiet ones that deal the most damage,” you whispered sultrily, glancing into his gentle brown eyes. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. That caught him off-guard.
Then, you backed away and waved him goodbye. “I’ve gotta go. Later, Dimples.”
Dimples? That was new. Jaehyun was pleasantly surprised by the nickname and he was so stunned that it distracted him from his train of thoughts. 
It was only when you were long gone that he realized that you never answered his question. 
You needed time to think, to decide if Jaehyun was worth potentially losing your brother’s trust. You didn’t know why he hated him, but his less than enthusiastic reactions to him said more than enough. Jaehyun was cute, but you could easily find another cute guy whose bones your brother didn’t mention crushing.
But damn, you were curious. And curiosity killed the cat. You knew one thing, though. You were starting to like Jeong Jaehyun. 
You shook your head, ashamed of yourself. This is really what’s it’s come to, huh?
Jaehyun thought about that exchange on the bridge every now and then for the next couple of days and chastised himself for even making moves on you of all people. She’s his baby sister, you asshole. She’s off-limits. 
Not that it would really stop him, if you let him have you. 
It wasn’t like Johnny had to know. Jaehyun could keep a secret and he assumed that you had a handful of your own. People with strict upbringings tended to have a lot of practice with being sneaky and your situation was close enough. 
He sat on his bed and heaved a breath, playing with a lighter. 
Meanwhile, you were with your boys, listening to them chatter about disgusting boy things but lowkey too curious to abandon your spot on the sofa that was too comfortable for its own good. Nobody liked sleeping on sofas, but you swore you wouldn’t mind on this one. Plus sometimes you’d gotten drunk here enough where you almost dozed off. 
You made a gagging noise when Mark started to talk about his nth blowjob of the week. You weren’t counting, but he definitely was. 
“Your dick probably has so much chlamydia that it’ll mutate into a different variant like Covid,” Haechan teased. 
You grimaced, but you definitely agreed. 
“You’re one to talk,” Mark snapped. 
Haechan nodded, grinning proudly. “Of course, I am. I always wear condoms and get tested regularly. I’m clean as a whistle.”
You shook your head in amusement. “I’ve never understood the saying ‘clean as a whistle.’ Like aren’t whistles actually contaminated from being in someone’s mouth? Now, when you combine that logic with your dick…”
Jeno burst into laughter. Yuta obviously found it funny from the smile on his face and Mark would never miss a chance to laugh at his friend’s expense. 
Haechan dramatically rolled his eyes. “And what about you, little miss? How often do you get laid?”
“Definitely not as often as you guys,” you replied, coming to a stand. Not that you wanted to kiss the sofa goodbye. “I’ll be right back. I’ve gotta tinkle.”
Mark’s nose wrinkled. “You didn’t think that was too much information?”
You almost threw the remote at your best friend, but spared him. There was no way this dude was talking about too much information when he was literally giving you all a play-by-play of his sex life. 
“If it burns when you pee, Mark gave you the airborne strand of chlamydia,” Yuta joked dryly. 
You left too quickly to see Mark attempt to murder Yuta and it was a shame that you had to miss it. There was no doubt that Haechan would exaggerate the moment to make you regret not being there, but right now, you were concentrated on finding the bathroom. 
And of course, it was when you finally made it upstairs through the groups of bodies that you realized you didn’t know where it was. 
You groaned, cursing yourself for being so forgetful. You’d only been here a couple of times and never long enough to use the fucking bathroom, apparently. And you really couldn’t fucking hold it. 
You glanced around the set of doors upstairs, incapable of keeping still. Thank god nobody was here except for you. If I was a bathroom, which door would I be behind?
You set eyes on a random door and said, “Fuck it.” You marched right up to it and knocked none too gently, seeping with impatience. 
To your surprise, it was Jaehyun that opened the door, a pair of headphones slung around his neck. And behind him was a bed, not a toilet. 
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered with shock and he said your name. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, um, I was kinda looking for the bathroom. I’m guessing this isn’t it,” you said with a little humor, which was remarkable, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, baby.”
“Oh.” You knew that, so the fact that it slipped your mind meant that you definitely weren’t yourself when you had to pee. 
Jaehyun had the audacity to laugh. He opened his door a little wider. “You can use mine. It’s that door over there.”
“Thank you,” you said in relief, immediately darting for the bathroom. 
You were even more relieved by the time you washed your hands and walked back into his bedroom, no longer fighting to keep still. Jaehyun was sitting on his bed where his headphones were now cast aside. God, how loud did you have to be knocking for him to hear you over those?
“You sure were in a hurry,” Jaehyun teased. 
You rolled your eyes, but a little laugh fell from your lips. You wholeheartedly blamed Jeno and his damn poisonous drinks. Sighing in relief, you glanced around Jaehyun’s room. For a boy, he was exceptionally tidy. He had vinyls organized on a shelf. “No girls in here, I see.”
Jaehyun didn’t know whether to be offended by that or not. “What do you think I am, a pimp?”
You snickered. “Nah. I’m just traumatized. Sue me.”
Jaehyun knew better than to ask questions that he didn’t want to know the answers to, so he left it alone. “You never answered my question the other day.”
“What question?” you asked. Obviously, you were playing dumb. You needed every second to think about what your response would be, although you’d had the past forty-eight hours and then some to contemplate. 
Your damn brother was the only thing that stood between you and Jaehyun. 
Johnny wasn’t around this time for obvious reasons. There was no way in hell that he’d step foot in the house of his mortal enemy. He didn’t want you to be there either, but you assured him that you’d steer clear of all things Jeong Jaehyun. 
And it wasn’t as if you had deliberately lied. It (kind of) wasn’t your fault that you didn’t know where the bathroom was. 
“If you wanted to get to know me better.”
You stepped over to his bed, sitting beside him and sighing. “Jaehyun, you know my brother won’t approve.”
“I guess that’s a ‘no’ then,” Jaehyun muttered. 
Your eyes glanced at his handsome face, then his beautiful, twinkling brown eyes, and finally his soft pink lips. And when they flitted so low, there was no looking back. You leaned in and pressed your lips to Jaehyun’s, waiting for him to kiss back, and when he did without hesitation your heart soared. 
His hands flew to your back, eyes fluttering closed. God, he tasted as good as he smelled, and it was more than a little arousing. You made him fall against his mattress, straddling his hips and kissing him even deeper.
The change was welcome. His heart was racing just from locking lips with you and it took him to the sky. He grabbed a hold of your hips, which fit snugly in his palms, and listened to the soft sighs that slipped from your mouth in between the kisses. 
Mark was probably downstairs wondering, Damn, bitch, how long does it take to piss?
You pulled back when a certain groan of his turned you on a little too much to be safe. Jaehyun was secretly disappointed, but he didn’t complain, taking time to catch his breath. “Is that a maybe?”
You giggled and shook your head. “It’s a yes.”
Jaehyun sat up and grinned. He knew what he was getting himself into, but he didn’t care. There was something about you that made him defy gravity. 
Still straddling his hips, you threaded your fingers through his hair and leaned in to whisper into his ears, “We’re playing with fire.”
“Ironically, I thought the same thing,” Jaehyun deadpanned. 
You chuckled. Well, if you didn’t care, and he didn’t care, nothing more needed to be said. You were really doing this. 
Jaehyun realized that he already really liked holding you. You were warm and soft to the touch, and you fit perfectly in his arms. “Have you been drinking?”
“Nope.”
“Did you do any drugs?”
“Not even a little,” you said, raising a brow at the question. Much to your chagrin, it reminded you of your brother’s incessant worry. “Why?”
Jaehyun said without hesitation, “Because I’ve got weed.”
That was exciting. No wonder Jaehyun never came downstairs during his roommates’ parties. The real party was in his bedroom. “Geez, Dimples. What are you waiting for?”
Jaehyun laughed at your enthusiasm and grabbed his lighter off his nightstand. You were flattered when he let you roll and even more when he praised your technique, which took years to develop. Thank god for your experienced friends. 
The high had you hyper aware of everything. Jaehyun’s whole room smelled like him, to no surprise. As he said, he lived there, fuck’s sake. But it was pleasant and you were honestly forgetting that you even promised to return downstairs.
The guilt and pressure of keeping secrets from Johnny was heavy on your back a few moments ago, but after the marijuana settled in, you relaxed into Jaehyun’s side. He didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was the tree getting to his brain, but his hands got a little bolder, too. 
And it also only enhanced your curiosity. “Do you do this often, Jaehyun?”
“You mean invite girls into my room to talk and smoke?”
“Yeah.”
Jaehyun took a drag and exhaled into the thick air of his room. “Eh, not really. I’ve had girls in my room before, obviously, but it never really lasts.”
You weren’t surprised. Any girl could see that Jaehyun was handsome as all fucking hell and you didn’t expect him to be a total sexless loser. Matter of fact, if he told you that he was a virgin, you doubted that you’d even believe it. 
“Maybe you haven’t met the right girl then,” you suggested coyly. 
Jaehyun chuckled. “Maybe.”
It was way too soon to ask if he thought you were the right girl, so instead you settled for asking where his interests lay. “What exactly are you looking for?”
Jaehyun knew the answer to that question in perfect detail because he’d thought about it countless times, being his typical hopeless romantic self. This was a boy that dreamed of finding his miss right before he went to bed. He was a simple guy. He wanted picket fences and kids. Perhaps a puppy. 
But maybe it wasn’t all too simple. Jaehyun wasn’t searching for a housewife. He wanted someone to go to random old shops with and look at vintage items together. He wanted someone that didn’t draw a lot of attention, but liked to go outside and explore. Money be damned. Thanks to his mother, he had ample cash, but no one to spend it on. 
Jaehyun hummed, pretending to think about his answer. “Guess.”
You threw him a look. “Are you serious?”
Jaehyun bobbed his head eagerly, lips curling into a mischievous little grin. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to guess first.” 
You sighed and glanced around his bedroom for clues, and fortunately enough, there were plenty. “Vinyls from the nineties. You’re an old soul and you want someone who fits your vibe. You smell like expensive cologne, so maybe you want someone to wine and dine, but you definitely want to be comfortable.”
Jaehyun said nothing, but you could tell that he was listening. 
You looked at the pictures of him and an older woman framed on his nightstand and continued, “You want the type of girl you can take home to your mother. And your mother wants the absolute best for her son, so she raised you to have high standards.”
“You’re good at this,” Jaehyun muttered. 
“I’m nowhere close to being finished,” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “Judging from the souvenirs on your shelf, you like going to different places, so you want someone curious and adventurous in nature. Appreciative and respectful of different peoples' cultures.”
Jaehyun was only smiling at this point. It was kind of funny and spooky being read like this. 
“You’ve searched for love and haven’t found something that feels right, so now you keep girls around for a good time, not a long one. And you love a damsel in distress, I think,” you said, concluding your investigation. 
“Wow,” was all Jaehyun said. 
Though you already knew the answer, you pressed your lips into a smile and asked, “Am I warm?”
“You’re on fire,” he replied, wondering how in the hell you got all that just from looking at his bedroom. “But how did you know?”
“That you love a damsel in distress?”
“That I’ve looked for love and gave up on it.”
You almost rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking that question. “No offense, but you scream hopeless romantic. Plus you’re hot. You know your worth and what you want and I doubt it’s meaningless sex.”
Jaehyun had this melancholy look on his face for the briefest of seconds, but it disappeared so quickly you could’ve imagined it being there. 
“I don’t think you gave up, I think you took a little pause. You know she’s out there, and when the time’s right, you’ll know.” Then, you abandoned the sadness and quipped, “But you’re also a guy, and guys want sex.”
Jaehyun chuckled, but you had somehow penetrated his mind. You had part of him figured out and he didn’t know what to do with that. It was too soon to get too deep. 
You exhaled contentedly, but the marijuana had you thinking. You could’ve been wrong about Jaehyun. You had definitely been wrong before. 
There was this tension in the room now that neither of you were equipped to handle. As standard when he was fooling around with a girl, there was a piece of him that wondered if it could be the real thing this time, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 
It wouldn’t have been the first time. 
Jaehyun gave you back the blunt. “What about you - what are you looking for?”
“Who said I was looking?” you asked with obvious amusement. 
That shattered Jaehyun’s former thoughts of possibly wifing you up one day. Of course you didn’t intend on dating the dude your brother hated. It would’ve been a very unconventional relationship. You could keep him around for fun, but it would have to end sooner or later. 
So Jaehyun contentedly resigned himself to the fact that you would pass, just like all the other girls he brought up to his room, and decided he was fine with that. Maybe he had high standards, but you’d forgotten to mention the part that they came with moderate hopes and low expectations.
That way getting hurt was borderline impossible. 
Then, Jaehyun started to grin like an idiot and reminded, “You said that you think I’m hot.”
“I literally said that ten hundred hours ago,” you groaned, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air. 
You cried out in shock when he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto him again, but instinctively leaned into his shoulder. Jaehyun was (usually) humble, but anyone who thought he didn’t know he was hot was a fool. “Am I hot enough to kiss?”
Your lips tugged into a smile, and rather than directly answer his question, you went in for a kiss, holding the blunt away from his face so that he wouldn’t get burned. Jaehyun effortlessly matched your rhythm and it was dumbfounding how he could be so excellent of a kisser. 
You spent the better half of the night passing a blunt back and forth with Jaehyun, kissing and talking in between (featuring some inappropriate touches). Jaehyun was so fucking easy to talk to, the topics were boundless. Neither of you opened up much outside of your relationship goals and lack thereof, but you still got to know each other a little better. 
Jaehyun loved music from r&b to jazz to soul, though you could’ve guessed how passionate he was after one look at his vinyl collection. He was flirty sometimes, but soft-spoken and very gentleman-like and he never once proposed for the two of you to have sex. Plus he was a bit of a goofball. 
To say nothing of the fact that he could play the guitar. You didn’t know why, but that somehow made him even more delightful. 
It was pleasant to be in the presence of a guy that was simultaneously attractive and respectful.
Because it was far too late for you to drive yourself home when you finally started to get sleepy, he let you steal his bed and slept in the room of one of his roommate’s that was never home, according to Jaehyun. 
Jungkook was what he said his name was. Apparently he basically lived full-time in his girlfriend’s apartment and Jaehyun didn’t know why he still paid rent, but he didn’t complain. It was going to be a sad day for his bank account when Jungkook finally moved out. 
And that left Yugyeom. He was the one that threw all of the parties. You asked Jaehyun last night why he rarely came downstairs during those parties and his response was, “I don’t like the attention.”
Morning had come loudly as ever. Birds chirped outside, singing sweetly. You stretched your arms above your head and yawned, unable to ignore the dark curtains that effectively kept the sunlight out. 
The first thing you did was let a little light in. And the second thing was remember how you spent last night, memories of marijuana and laughter, and flirtatious behavior hitting you all at once. It seemed that Jeong Jaehyun was a promise of fun. 
Grabbing your phone, you headed down the stairs and breathed a little in relief when you saw Jaehyun already awake, waiting by the toaster. “Good morning, Dimples.”
Jaehyun turned when he heard your voice and the smile that spread across his lips was instantaneous. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
“I should’ve known that your bed would be as cool and collected as you are,” you quipped, rubbing your arms. It was colder without Jaehyun’s blankets to help strengthen the temperature. 
Jaehyun shook with mirth and it was a sight you wanted to see more often. 
“I could’ve slept on the sofa,” you said without complaint. “The party was over by the time we called it a night and it’s the most comfortable sofa I’ve ever put my butt on.”
“It goes against everything I believe in to let you sleep on a couch when there’s a perfectly functional bed upstairs.”
“Aw, what a gentleman,” you replied, coming to stand at his side. “I drew the curtains in your room open, by the way. I don’t know how you live like a damn vampire.”
“What’s wrong with living like a vampire? Vampires are cool.”
“I don’t think Vampires need Vitamin D. Humans do,” you retorted, arms crossed. 
Jaehyun’s lips curved into a stupid little smile that reeked of mischief and you instantly knew where his thoughts were before he even said anything. 
You rolled your eyes at his silliness and told him, “Whatever you’re about to say - don’t.”
Bagels popped out of the toaster and the sight of food made Jaehyun forget about his previous shenanigans. He set both bagels on individual plates that already had food and said, “I made you something. It’s not much because I’ve gotta go soon, but I didn’t want you to be hungry.”
“Thank you,” you said with gratitude, accepting the plate he handed to you. Plate in hand, you went to sit at the table, watching Jaehyun bring cups over. 
“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun told you gently. “Next time I’ll make you a real full-course meal as a treat.”
You gawked. “You can cook?”
“A little bit, yeah. Why?”
“You just got so much hotter,” you breathed.
Jaehyun grinned. 
The time you spent together that morning was a duplicate of the night before except there were only the lingering overnight highs instead of the fresh ones. You were sad that you had to leave, but Jaehyun had to work and you needed to go home. 
Sitting in your car, you checked your phone for the first time in hours. There had to be a thousand missed calls and unanswered messages from your friends and Johnny. Though it wasn’t unusual for your phone to be on Do Not Disturb, it was definitely strange to not at least tell your loved ones that you were very much still alive. 
You were just so hooked on Jaehyun that it completely slipped your mind to check your phone. There wasn’t a dull moment upstairs in his bedroom and even when it was silent you were comforted by the sound of a vinyl playing quietly on his record player, which you were stunned that he even had. 
You texted your friends to let them know that you were on the way home and called Johnny to get his usual tantrum out of the way before you got there, but it was safe to say that you weren’t expecting to come back to Johnny and Mark waiting for you in the kitchen like two unhappy parents. 
You reached into the cabinet to grab a glass and deadpanned, “Uh oh. Am I in trouble?”
Mark snickered and he looked like mischief. “Very much so.”
Your gaze flitted towards Johnny, who was clearly the more disgruntled of the two, and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look like you had a long night.”
“That’s probably because I did.”
“Did you hook up with anyone?”
You grimaced. “Gross, Johnny. Do I ask you who and what you do with your dick?”
Johnny gave you a look that told you he was serious. 
“No, I didn’t hook up,” you replied, filling your glass with water and hoping to find a way out of this situation so that you could shower and brush your teeth. 
Johnny’s lips were tugged into a frown. This older brother responsibility was far from easy when his little sister made it even harder to check up on her. “I worry about you. Is that a crime?” 
You exhaled a long breath. “You’re right. I should have at least let you know that I was okay and I didn’t, and I’m sorry. I just got… distracted.”
That got Mark’s attention and he butted in dramatically, “Where did you go last night? I was this close to filing a police report, but it hadn’t been twenty-four hours.”
Typical cop father response. That was half the reason why nobody wanted to deal him drugs. Thank goodness he had you to vouch for him. “And what would you do if I was off with a serial killer instead of some hot guy?”
“I wouldn’t be too worried. You’re annoying. They would return you on the front doorstep with a note that said ‘come get your bitch back.’”
You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you noticed Johnny laugh a little and it honestly made you feel somewhat better. He had been painfully uptight lately and you just wanted him to chill for once. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower and brush my teeth,” you announced, discarding your glass in the sink and heading for the stairs. 
Of course, Mark had more insults on deck and didn’t hesitate to ask, “You’re gonna need more than that for all the cum you had to have gargled last night.”
“For the last time, I did not hook up,” you huffed in exasperation, marching up the stairs. “And get the hell out of my house - you don’t even live here!”
You could hear Mark laughing from the overlook. 
A lot of time was spent counting down the hours until you could see Jeong Jaehyun again. You learned that he was not the type of guy to sit around waiting by his phone. This was a busy man with business to take care of and he didn’t have a lot of spare time. 
You didn’t mind, because he spent it talking to you, which was definitely an indicator that he was starting to really like you. With so few hours in a week, let alone a day, it was hard to believe he let just anyone consume the little downtime that remained. 
Jaehyun let you crash some nights at his place when your brother was being a massive thorn in your side. It wasn’t a crime, but it was easy to get away with, all things considered. Yugyeom never bothered either of you and Jungkook was rarely there, so you spent most of the time talking incessantly and getting high. 
Maybe some kisses were shared in between, but nothing more. Jaehyun was content with just getting to know you for now. His usual invitees consisted of one-night stands and girls he hung out with for a couple of weeks, but you were different. You made him think, high or not, and it was rare a girl penetrated his mind so deeply.
And so quickly. It had only been a month, maybe a little longer. He was still afraid of being completely open with you, but the way the two of you touched each other was starting to get riskier and riskier. 
Kisses lasted longer. More than once, he caught himself going after your clothes, but he didn’t want to seem like an animal. You did seem a little eager too, kissing the breath out of him and getting more and more flirtatious, but Jaehyun hated having to guess. 
He wanted you to tell him what you wanted in no uncertain terms. No room for uncertainty. 
Yugyeom knocked on Jaehyun’s bedroom door, which was already cracked ajar, and asked, “Hey, is she coming over tonight?”
“Yes, so please be on your best behavior. No bullshit,” Jaehyun replied, getting a whiff of the trouble that was Yugyeom and wrinkling his nose. 
“Have you guys… you know?”
“That’s a personal question.”
“So you haven’t.” Yugyeom pressed, “Man, when are you gonna tell her you’ve got the hots for her? You know what, I’ll clear the house and leave a bottle of wine out. Light one of your expensive candles. Girls like that shit.”
Like hell Jaehyun needed advice on how to set the mood, from Yugyeom much less. Plus he was none too pleased at being interrupted, especially because now he was thinking about having sex with you and it was doing things to him down there. “I think I know what girls like.”
“Then what’s the problem? And don’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it. We’re both dudes, man. That’s bullshit.”
“There isn’t one,” Jaehyun replied to his roommate honestly. Of course, he had thought about having sex with you. He might’ve been respectful, but like Yugyeom said, he was still a dude. Hell, the words had come out of your own mouth. 
Yugyeom prodded, “Then?”
“I just don’t wanna rush into it.”
Now that Yugyeom could buy. Jaehyun was sentimental like that. When he really liked a girl, evaluating her worth took priority over getting laid. Jaehyun had this wall of ice put up that even Yugyeom had to steadily break through. Ironically, sometimes it felt like he was still on the outside. 
But he put two and two together. If Jaehyun liked you - as in really, really liked you - then that made shit even more complicated. It was no secret that Johnny had it out for Jaehyun and he obviously came to the same conclusion that Jaehyun had; shit getting serious with you was dangerous. 
So Yugyeom left it alone. 
Like clockwork, you were pulling into Jaehyun’s driveway only a few hours later. You discerned that the lot was empty save for your car and Jaehyun’s which more than likely implied that the two of you would be completely alone in the house together. 
Slipping the spare key from under the mat, you unlocked the door and sang after locking it behind yourself, “Darling, I’m home!”
“I’m upstairs,” Jaehyun called out from the second floor, his room door obviously open for once. The benefits of having the house to himself. 
You didn’t hesitate to make your way upstairs, not failing to clock the bottle of expensive wine on the counter when you passed by the kitchen, but you thought little of it when you came through the hallway and slipped into Jaehyun’s comfortable bedroom. “Hey, Dimples,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun smiled at you and waved. His room was dimly lit. The overhead lights were turned off, but the candles on his nightstand were ablaze and there was an old school classic going on in the background. 
The second you came in, Jaehyun set his book aside, giving you his undivided attention. “Come here.”
You wasted no time doing as told, advancing towards the bed and giggling when he snatched you into his open arms for a handful of kisses. Your whole body was soothed from his slightest of touches, at ease in his arms. Jaehyun had quickly become your second safe place. 
God, you had been waiting for this moment all week. Johnny wasn’t on your ass any more than usual, but it got lonely in that house and it was even worse when you found yourself only craving Jaehyun’s company. There was something happening to you and you couldn’t tell if you liked it or not. 
Jaehyun drew back after a minute, taking a moment to breathe and brush a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “Things okay at home?”
“New topic,” you groaned. 
Jaehyun winced. That couldn’t have been too good. 
“You smell good,” you purred, breathing in his scent. 
“You always say that.”
“Because you always smell good.” 
“I just got out of the shower.”
“Without me?”
“You sound like a guy,” Jaehyun said in disapproval. 
You snickered. You had definitely gotten that comment from a boy before.
Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to your face, taking in how beautiful you were. Damn, it was like every time he saw you, you looked even more breathtaking. 
You couldn’t help but stare back. Jaehyun’s visuals were out of this damn universe and it was borderline maddening he could be this fucking fine. But deeper than that, sometimes you couldn’t help but stare into his dark eyes and wonder what all he was hiding back there. 
It was plain as day that Jaehyun wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, especially not when his romantic feelings were involved. In the time that you’d spent together, you had gotten to learn some things about him, but there was plenty that he filtered out as a defense mechanism. 
When you wanted to get closer, Jaehyun shut down, which was totally ironic, because he was the one that asked if you wanted to get to know him. Now you had to fight for it?
Maybe he meant get to know his body and you were oblivious - and you wouldn’t have minded one bit - but if that was the case, you should’ve already had sex and been out of the picture. Yet he was keeping you twice as long as most girls lasted and for no apparent reason.
Sex made things more complicated. If you had sex with Jaehyun right now, and it was good, there was absolutely no telling how that would shift the trajectory of your entire life. But the way he was looking at you right now tempted you to risk it all. 
Your lips found Jaehyun’s again, but the kiss was different this time. It was needier, desperate. It sent heat stretching through every bone in your body and straight between your thighs, and you felt like you were levitating. Your body scorched with desire, hands running down his chest. 
Jaehyun kept up with your reckless kissing very well, but he couldn’t ignore the nature of it and it made him ask himself questions. You were kissing him like you wanted him. Tired of wondering, he pulled back and asked forthrightly, “Do you want to have sex with me?” 
“Isn’t it obvious?” you countered, quickly seizing the opportunity to return your lips to his.
All of this beating around the bush was getting on his nerves and Jaehyun took matters into his own hands. Literally. You gasped when he pushed you onto your back, pinning you onto his bed, and locked your wrists above your head. “I want to hear you say it.”
Now that was sexy as hell and your thighs involuntarily pressed together. “I want to have sex with you.”
That was all Jaehyun needed to hear. He was quick to catch your lip in between his teeth and seal your lips in another heated kiss, taking in your every trembling exhale. You moaned into his mouth, a little too enamored with how good it felt beneath him. 
His hands released your wrists in favor of your waist, testing the waters. You were reactive to Jaehyun’s touches, hyper aware of his hands steadily falling lower, but not daring to touch you too intimately yet. Like he was waiting for something to happen. 
Jaehyun’s eyes sank to your empty neck and something deep in the pit of his gut was set on fire. “Are marks okay?”
Making quick work of his shirt and tossing it over his shoulders, you nodded your head. “Yeah. Johnny will notice, but he’ll never assume they’re from you.” 
It took absolutely nothing else for Jaehyun to connect his lips to your throat hungrily, leaving mark after mark on your skin in an effort to stake his claim to you. And all it did was turn you on further. There was a thudding between your legs, arousal spilling over. 
Little soft sighs and curses slipped from your lips and you could feel the bedroom get hotter and hotter. It wasn’t as if you and Jaehyun had agreed to be exclusive, but you hadn’t been with anyone else in the time that the two of you had been hanging out, meaning it had been over a month since you’d last had sex. 
And it fucking showed. You were aching for more, on top of your natural desire for Jaehyun. If you didn’t fuck his brains out right now you were going to self-destruct.
“Jaehyun, fuck me,” you groaned impatiently. 
Instead, he grinned, too fond of the neediness in your voice and on your pretty face. Jaehyun looked you plain in the eye and said, “I want you to beg.”
You were too gone to roll your eyes, but not too out of it to retort, “Make me.”
“I’m gonna make you beg, alright,” Jaehyun said without question. He made a move for your shorts and tugged them off your ankles, repeating the gesture with your panties. 
The only thing that kept you from being totally naked was your top but Jaehyun didn’t look too concerned with getting rid of it yet. Instead, he focused his undivided attention between your legs, entranced by your glistening core and his mouth going dry with the desire to have a taste. 
You watched the enthrallment on his face with satisfaction. Funny how his ability to conceal his emotions went out the window when pussy was involved. His eyes were dark as ever and Jaehyun’s voice somehow got deeper when he asked, “Will you let me taste you?” 
“Fuck,” you mumbled, sensing that he was about to wreck the living hell out of you. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”
No room for uncertainty. Now that he had your consent, Jaehyun gathered your legs in his hands, tossed them over his broad shoulders, and went to town. You gasped aloud at the first pass of his tongue at your clit and it couldn’t have been further from tentative. 
Of course this man went straight for your sensitive bundle of nerves instead of your slick folds, he knew better. Given how exciting the thought of Jaehyun dicking you down had been, you were already throbbing, but now you were tense and unstill.
There was something about the feeling of his lips sucking and licking at your cunt that made you squirm and cry out in an overwhelming bolt of pleasure. Jaehyun clamped his big hands onto your thighs to keep you pliant, holding them right where he wanted them, and kept eating you out. 
It made zero sense how hot you found every little thing that he did. 
“Jesus, fuck,” was basically all that you could say. With how vigorously Jaehyun was sucking at your bundle of nerves, it was getting borderline impossible to think. 
Jaehyun sure didn’t seem timid. Matter of fact, the way he refused to shy away from in between your pair of legs, doing everything in his power to keep them separated at both sides of his head, said loud and clear that he was a man on a mission to make you unravel. 
Not to mention that he was doing a damn good job. Your ears were hardly even working, the whole world fading to static, the only audible sound being the incessant throb of your pulse quickening by the minute. 
The sheer opposite was true for Jaehyun. His ears were on full alert and he could hear everything from the increasing volume and speed of your breaths plus your soft moans to the gentle rustling of the trees' leaves outside his open window. 
Jaehyun peered up at you, noticed the euphoria tensing your beautiful features, and his lips broke into a wide grin. “How are you doing up there?”
No words would come. It took twice as long to even process the ones that left his mouth. Your eyes were drooping and misty, damp with moisture, and all that escaped you was a befuddled, “Fuck.”
Jaehyun snickered. That was answer enough. “It sounds to me like you’re having a fun time,” he started. “Do you want to cum?”
You obviously heard that and hissed, “Don’t ask stupid questions.” 
“If you want to cum, then beg me for it,” Jaehyun growled darkly. You appreciated the brief lull of peace, but of fucking course, it was that moment Jaehyun chose to press a long pair of fingers into your dripping pussy.
Your back arched and your soft cries filled the air. It felt like somebody had given Jaehyun the blueprints to your body with how he excelled at satisfying you in ways literally nobody had previously. 
The answer was obvious. Jaehyun wanted you to beg? Fuck it. You would beg. 
“Please,” you said, your voice raising a few pitches. “Oh, god. Please make me cum, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun didn’t make a sound but you could feel his mouth on your cunt again and knew that he was about to take you there.  
And then it came. The mind-numbing orgasm engulfed you in its fury and you were scarred with burns from head to toe, most of it pivoting towards your core. 
Your hands desperately grasped locks of Jaehyun’s soft fluffy hair in an attempt to anchor yourself and you didn’t release him from your clutches until every tremble faded. Jaehyun got so aroused watching you shudder with release that he swore his own mind went blank. 
It took a good minute and a half at the least for your mind to start to clear itself and you sighed pleasantly as the wrath of your orgasm slowly began to die out. You peered down at Jaehyun, blinking a couple of times, and slackened your grip when you realized how tightly your hands were latched to him.
Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind, contentedly watching you try to gather your bearings. “Are you back to earth?”
“Barely,” you rasped, still unable to feel your thighs. 
“Do you want to stop?”
You gawked. “Are you kidding? I still wanna fuck you. If you still wanna fuck me.”
“I still want to fuck you,” Jaehyun said, pulling you in for another hot but reassuring kiss. It was hard to breathe, but so worth it. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and tasted yourself on his. 
Kissing you made Jaehyun feel like he was ascending, but right now it also made his dick ascend and his patience was steadily dissipating into thin air. You could feel his hard-on against your naked thigh and it sent shock waves to your brain. 
I think that’s the best head I’ve ever had, you admitted to yourself, but not aloud. Your dating history wasn’t top secret but you spoke little of it to Jaehyun. Did it matter that all of your exes were scumbags and rarely bothered to get you off?
Except for one. The sex was good, but it wasn’t a fair trade-off for your heart. No man nor his cock was worth your sanity and you told that to yourself every time you engaged with one. 
Plus you just got this weird feeling where nothing or nobody else mattered when you and Jaehyun were alone together. You didn’t think of the various roots of the stresses in your life and calmness was finally an option. 
You didn’t want to ruin that, so you didn’t get too deep. 
But you were hoping Jaehyun was packing enough to be deep inside of you. Fuck that, you had felt it against your thigh. You knew that he was and it was exciting. 
Your voice was weighed down by the thickness of your breaths. “Do you have condoms?”
“Always,” Jaehyun replied, pulling a drawer open on his nightstand to retrieve one.
That was a relief. You had never done it raw before and though you liked Jaehyun, you weren’t sure where his dick had been and what all it had seen. You’d rather be safe.
Jaehyun gently pushed you back onto the mattress and crawled over you, drawing the condom between his teeth while he tossed your shirt and bra halfway across his bedroom, then whispered, “Tell me how you want it.”
“Hard and deep. Deep and hard,” you confessed sultrily, looking him dead in the eye. 
Jaehyun smirked. “That can be arranged.”
You watched Jaehyun shuffle out of his pants and put the condom on, but the bulk of your attention was set on that thick, girthy cock. Your mouth was watering. Maybe some other time you could suck him off, but right now getting it between your thighs was all you wanted. 
It didn’t seem as if he glanced up, but Jaehyun said, “You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” Jaehyun said. 
You giggled. “No, I’m not.”
The sound faded when you spread your legs apart invitingly and he penetrated you at an excruciatingly slow pace, sinking deeper inch by fucking inch. 
You and Jaehyun made a sound in harmony when he finally filled you to the hilt, grasping your waist and using it as anchor like he was at risk of going dangerously deep if he made one wrong move and never returning to the surface. 
Good thing it was only the two of you. You, keeping quiet when he was this good with his hands and presumably even better with his thick cock? There was no way in hell. 
“Oh my god…,” you whispered, obsessed with the sensation of being filled. 
Whatever you were thinking right now, Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. You made his brain grind to a halt and stutter. “Does that feel okay?”
“More than okay,” you told him, because it was the truth. Somehow the pleasure was only spiking. The ecstasy continued to build. 
You looked so beautiful beneath the golden-yellow hue of his lamplight and Jaehyun knew he would be fantasizing about how your face tensed with pleasure for weeks, if not months.
Jaehyun especially liked the way you were tightening around his cock, gripping it for dear life as if letting go simply wasn’t an option. You wound your legs around his hips and helped draw him into yours in spite of knowing it could ruin you, a telltale sign that your desire for more outweighed any rational thinking. 
It just felt so good that it had to be illegal and though you knew that it wasn’t, it was damn near close. 
There was still music playing from the vinyl player in the background that soothed any and all nerves that you could’ve ever had. You took a moment and inhaled deeply, breathing in the musk of Jaehyun and the scent of the candles. 
Your eyes fluttered closed. It was ironic that you were on a raging high even though you hadn’t even gotten around to having your usual fill of marijuana. In legal terms, you were far from inebriated. But according to yourself? You were fiending for Jaehyun and found him lethally intoxicating. 
His weight on top of you. His deep, guttural grunts in your ear between his jagged breaths. His perfect thrusts and the way he stroked you exactly how you wanted, all the while reaping his pleasure from your body. 
It was fucking mind-blowing. 
Jaehyun had a similar thought and it tore a noise out of him. His intentions in inviting you over tonight weren’t to have sex, in spite of his roommate’s attempts at getting him to get laid when he was only trying to break you in, but it was an unregrettable decision. 
“You take it so good, baby,” Jaehyun said tenderly, but it barely scratched the tip of the iceberg of praises he had in storage especially for you. 
Fuck, you wanted to hate how easy it was for him to kindle these rash flames inside of you, but your attraction to Jaehyun became undeniable the second you initiated the first rendezvous. 
You were peering into Jaehyun’s soul, searching his whole face without knowing what you were looking for, and saw the euphoria fluttering his eyes closed and spreading his lips apart just enough for those heavenly sounds to slip through. 
You guessed you found it then, because the tightening in the pit of your gut was at an all-time high and it wasn’t skipping out on the extremes. 
Combing your hands through his hair, you whimpered, “I’m so close.”
Jaehyun accelerated his pace, wanting to take you to the ends of the earth and back. You noticed, because you could feel his hard dick slapping against your hips with a purpose, and you swore to god your eyes rolled somewhere black. 
The end was creeping up on you from behind. You could feel it. Jaehyun could feel it himself, the telltale twitch of his cock indicating that he was pushing his limits. 
“I want you to cum,” Jaehyun growled in no uncertain terms, his tone dominant. “Nice and hard. Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes,” you choked out. 
If you were being frank, he didn’t even have to ask. It was impossible to hide the evidence of your impending orgasm, the heightened tremors in your voice and the shakiness in your body were more than enough proof. 
All you could think about was how restlessly you were going after this orgasm and how terribly you needed it like it would fix every little thing going wrong in your life.
Your hands slipped from Jaehyun’s hair to his shoulders to finally his back, raking your nails down the flesh in a set of ministrations that were bound to leave red lines, and you rasped breathlessly, “Finish me.”
The hoarseness of your voice alone could’ve broken Jaehyun but he hung on for your sake, fingertips flitting to your sensitive, swollen clit again because he knew he wouldn’t last very much longer. 
You were even more restless than before and it wasn’t long until Jaehyun granted your wish, your lips parting in a scream and your vision going totally black. Your toes curled into tight bends as you grinded your hips into Jaehyun, milking your release for every damn dime.
Jaehyun could feel you clenching rapidly and repeatedly around his cock and merely seconds after that it was game over. He came with the deepest, sexiest groan you had ever heard before in your life, hips stuttering as his cum filled the condom, and all you could think about was how this could not be a one-time thing. 
The next few minutes were a blur. You only recalled Jaehyun peeling off you to dispose of the condom, the layers of sweat on your naked bodies keeping you connected, and returning to your side briefly. 
Jaehyun scanned you for any signs of obvious discomfort. “Are you okay?”
Your mouth was hanging open, aggressive pants falling from your lips, but Jaehyun’s attention was no longer focused on your heaving chest - it was on you. “No, more like incredible.”
That had Jaehyun in the first half, but he snickered in amusement and relief when you wrapped up your sentence. “Do you wanna shower with me?”
“That’s kinda intimate,” you said, as if that was actually going to stop you. “Hell yeah, I do.”
Jaehyun rolled his eyes, but there was a smile plain as day on his face. You cried out in surprise when he hauled you into his burly arms, hooking one of them under your knees, and carried you into his bathroom. 
Your own individual toothbrush was in there on the sink counter squarely beside Jaehyun’s. It was only right that he let you keep one there, given how many late Friday nights you spent at his house instead of your own. 
Plus some of your clothes were there, tucked into his drawers, but when you returned to his bedroom, you donned one of his shirts that was unsurprisingly oversized on you. 
You sat on Jaehyun’s bed, memories of what you’d just done on his sheets still fresh, and watched him rifling through his vinyl catalog, but because he was shirtless you quickly got distracted by the view you had of his back. 
At least until he turned around after setting the vinyl on his record player, apparently oblivious, and coming to sit at your side. 
There was mischief on your face and you were struggling to stifle a giggle. It was obvious, and Jaehyun furrowed his brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe you at all, but he didn’t press. 
You sighed contentedly, leaning into his naked chest. The little voice in your brain was thinking about how he smelled so clean and fresh, and good. Well, duh, she snapped. If you somehow weren’t paying attention, he just got out of the shower. 
But you were definitely paying attention, maybe a little more than you should’ve. It wasn’t your fault he looked like the leading role of every romance book ever. This was a man out of every little girls’ childhood dreams and, more importantly, every grown woman’s wet ones. 
As Jaehyun held you in his arms, you couldn’t help but think, spotting little items in his room that screamed, I come from money. “Jaehyun, is it okay if I ask you a question?”
Jaehyun hummed. You figured he might’ve been close to dozing off, but in reality, he was just captivated by the smell of your hair and hoping it lingered on his pillows. 
“You’re pretty well-off, but you live with two other guys. You’re technically always alone, but you don’t live alone. Why?”
Now that wasn’t what Jaehyun was expecting you to ask him, but you were full of surprises. He took a moment to ponder his answer, finding himself reflecting. “It’s because of how I grew up, I guess. I was the only child, so it was just me and my parents in the house. I guess I kind of wanted to know what it's like to have brothers.”
You made a noise of content. “You’re close then.”
“Yup.” 
You could feel Jaehyun playing with your hair and it made you smile gently.
“What about you and your friends?”
“What about them?”
“What’s the relationship like? Have you fucked Mark?”
You were taken aback, though rather than be affronted, the ridiculousness of that question made you laugh. “No way. I prefer my vagina itch-free,” you quipped. 
Jaehyun chuckled. It was a shock that that kid got around town the way he did, but that was why Jaehyun had to respect the hustle. 
Then, out of nowhere, you got a little sober. “On a serious note, Mark is my bestie and he’s what I imagine having a little brother is like. Johnny really likes him too, so sometimes I’ll walk in on them hanging out without me.”
You didn’t notice the way Jaehyun’s head bobbed along, but he was listening. It was believable. Mark was a social butterfly and impossible to dislike, no matter how irritating. 
And he was only irritating to some. Those who didn’t find him to be a thorn in their side probably wanted him a number of inches deep in their guts. 
You continued, “Yuta is more Johnny’s friend than he is mine, but he’s laidback. Haechan is a little shit but he’s funny as fuck. And you know Jeno is chaotic as ever.”
You were fond of your circles of friends. Most folks assumed it must’ve been suffocating to be the only girl amongst a group of insufferable horny dudes, but it wasn’t half bad. Jeno had tried to get into your pants before, but when you turned him down he took the rejection coolly. 
Mark, like you said, was like a sibling to you and that went both ways. When somebody suggested the two of you hook up, his knee-jerk reaction was to hiss, “Ew!”
Haechan was a slut like all of them but he knew better than to slut himself out to you and Yuta, though you already couldn’t have been further from his type, was one of your older brother’s closest friends. According to Yuta himself, the thought of being in a relationship with you was hilarious. 
Never mind the fact that he admitted he’d actually do it, but strictly for fun. Pissing off Johnny was his full-time job and dating his younger sister? It would’ve been the easiest way. 
You and Jaehyun chatted until you couldn’t ignore each other’s incessant yawns and made the mutual agreement to crawl under the sheets together. A rare Jungkook appearance one weekend forced you into bed with each other and ever since that was how you’d slept. 
Side by side, skin to skin. 
The sun was brighter than ever when you woke up some hours later. You noticed that the curtains were open. And they had been since you likened Jaehyun to a vampire.
Speaking of Jaehyun, he was still sleeping like a rock beside you, completely still other than the gentle heave of his chest as he snored quietly. You crawled gingerly out of bed so as not to disturb his rest, the sight of him still asleep when you stood making you sigh out in relief. 
After a quick wash-up in the bathroom, you headed downstairs for a snack. Your stomach was rumbling and you realized that you hadn’t eaten since you left home. 
What you didn’t expect was to see Yugyeom half-naked in the kitchen though. 
You weren’t sure why. It was his house and if he wanted to walk around like he just went skinny dipping, then he had that right. Fortunately, he was wearing sweatpants, so you were spared from that unsightly picture. 
Yugyeom heard your footsteps and turned. “Oh, hey. Sleep good?”
“I only slept for a few hours,” you confessed, though you felt like you were quite well-rested. “But yeah, I slept pretty good.”
Yugyeom chuckled. “I bet.”
You said nothing else. Yugyeom wasn’t a total stranger, even before you started crashing at his house, but you weren’t close by any means. 
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” you said after a pause, straddling a barstool. 
“I mean, I do live here. Who do you think pays most of the bills?”
“Jaehyun,” you chirped. 
“Okay, that’s fair. Who do you think pays the second most of the bills?”
“You and Jungkook, but it wasn’t always that way.”
Yugyeom threw in the towel, realizing Jaehyun had most definitely had this discussion with you at some point. Then, he started to laugh. Jaehyun was discussing their finances with you? There was no way in living hell. 
I’ll be damned. Yugyeomed sighed in amusement. “You know, you’re the first girl I’ve seen last this long with Jaehyun.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not saying he’s a player, but I thought I’d stop seeing you around here, like, two weeks ago. For a girl to survive a month with him, she has to really crank up his brain. And Jaehyun isn’t easily impressed,” Yugyeom said. 
It was obvious what he was implying and you knew exactly where this was heading. “I’m sure, but Jaehyun and I are just vibing.”
“I didn’t say that you weren’t.”
“Yes, but you think that we aren’t,” you replied, rubbing your arms. It was always cold the mornings after. 
Yugyeom laughed. “No, I don’t. Not right now. I didn't even crack Jaehyun that soon. All I’m saying is Jaehyun is a real gem and I think that you have a solid chance.”
“And you want me to take it?”
Yugyeom was strategically bouncing around, going from subtly planting ideas in your head to making them seem as if they were your own. “Whatever you do with that information is out of my hands and none of my business.”
Your lips parted to speak, but you were fortunately saved by the bell. Footsteps were heard from the hall and Jaehyun emerged from around the corner, voice deep from sleep, “What are you two talking about?”
Yugyeom lied without hesitation, “How handsome you are, of course.”
Jaehyun didn’t believe it for a second, but he stole the barstool beside you and gently nudged your elbow. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Oh, the handsomest,” you deadpanned, but rested your head onto his shoulder. 
Jaehyun let you. At least for a little while, but then he pulled you into his chest and mumbled groggily, “You left me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your hands tangled into his dark hair. “I’ll stay next time.”
“Good.”
Yugyeom was peering into the fridge, shaking his head, wondering if he was the only one that saw your fate. 
The whole weekend was spent in Jaehyun’s arms, restless. If you weren’t getting high on marijuana and chatting about whatever came to mind, you were dancing to one of his vinyls. If you weren’t kissing each other breathless, you were fucking each other senseless. 
It was two days of whimsical fun, ignoring the world and its insignificant little woes. In many ways, Jaehyun was like your oasis.
You were starting to hate Mondays. They were the days where you realized that nothing was forever, every time without fail. The days you had to finally face the world after a weekend of neglecting its existence. 
Plus you didn’t get a lot of Jaehyun during the other five days of the week, and though you understood your conflicting schedules, it was getting less and less easy to cope. 
Finals week thankfully gave you less time to think about whatever the hell was blossoming between you and Jaehyun. You didn’t want to think about it, because you were well aware that it wouldn’t last. As perfectly as Jaehyun molded into you, there was no piece of him that fit the bigger picture. 
But of course, you were pacing down your school’s courtyard with a bag slung over your shoulder when you noticed Mark’s footsteps catching up to you. “Wanna tell me why Johnny asked me if you’ve been going out with somebody lately?” he asked.
You pretended to be oblivious, keeping your head straight and your steps quick. “Why would he ask you that?”
“Because I’m your best friend and you tell me everything, or so I thought,” Mark hissed.
You groaned, weighing your options. You could keep this private love affair to yourself and let the guilt and pressure split you down the middle, or you could confide in your best friend and hope it took the edge off. 
Pulling Mark behind a tree and scanning your surroundings for unwanted bystanders, you exhaled roughly and said, “Don’t freak out, but I may or may not be sleeping with Jeong Jaehyun on the weekends.”
Mark was understandably dumbfounded by that information and screeched aloud, “What the fuck, dude?”
“I just said don’t freak out!”
Mark shook his head, the total opposite of cool and collected. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to freak out. “Are you kidding? Johnny literally wants to kill him.”
“God, I know,” you bemoaned, pressing a palm to your forehead. This whole situation combined with the stress of finals was giving you a splitting headache. 
The shock was still evident on Mark’s face, but he seemed to be cooling off. “Shit, dude. This is crazy. Is the sex at least good?”
Your mind was fluttering with memories and it was hard to resist a smile. Getting laid right now would probably fix you. “Jeong Jaehyun may be a scoundrel for whatever reason, but I can reassure you he is not lacking in the sex department.”
Or any department. It was strange that in the weeks the two of you had spent bonding and the like, you had yet to identify a single red flag of Jaehyun’s. Apparently, the weirdest thing about this boy was the amount of pictures he kept of his toes. 
“Oh my god,” Mark gasped. 
“What?”
“That night you went upstairs to pee and didn’t come back,” Mark started, finally connecting the dots and displeased he hadn’t seen the hints earlier. “You were off screwing Jaehyun, weren’t you?”
“Actually, no. I was with him, yes, but we weren’t hooking up then.”
Mark was baffled to very fucking his core. That had to be half a decade ago. This whole time, you were spending your spare time on Jaehyun and nobody knew?
Gripping Mark by the shoulders, you stared into his eyes and said sternly, “Listen. You can’t tell Johnny.”
Your best friend made a face of disapproval, but nodded his head. “Alright. Fine.”
“I’m serious. You have to promise.”
Mark groaned, “Dude, I’m not gonna tell Johnny that you’re fucking Jaehyun. No matter how bizarre and borderline batshit insane that is to say aloud. I promise your secret is safe with me.”
You released his shoulders and a shaky breath, relenting. “Okay.”
“But that doesn’t mean that I approve.”
“Understandable. I can live with that.”
“I don’t see how,” Mark grumbled under his breath. 
You frowned. 
Months flew by. Christmas and News Year were a blur, two events you and Jaehyun spent at separate locations. Your parents were rarely home, but the winter holidays were a period of time that they always made sure to be around for. And Jaehyun paid his family a visit that week. 
But then it was February, and the national holiday that was Jaehyun’s birthday came of nowhere. 
“No way you were born on Valentine’s day,” you remembered telling him a few months back after asking him about his birthday. Jaehyun had groaned, more than accustomed to how this conversation played out. This was far from his first rodeo. 
Though it was rare that a girl made it to actually celebrate his birthday with him. 
Idiotically, you found yourself scorching with nerves that afternoon, overwhelmingly anxious. Your whole body was tense and you paced around your room antsily for hours until it was time to get in your car and head out to Jaehyun’s house. 
You had gotten him a gift and you weren’t sure whether he would like it or not. Then again, you had spent weeks planning what you would give him based on every second of every little conversation you’d shared and you were half confident, half uncertain. 
Jungkook opened the door to leave at the same moment you were preparing yourself to go inside, most likely heading to his girlfriend’s place after spending the morning celebrating his friend’s birthday, and held the door open for you. “Uh, do you need a minute?”
“No. Thank you,” you replied bashfully, catching the door and finally turning inside. 
You took one more deep breath and paced upstairs while gripping the box in your hands so tightly it might’ve broken. 
Jaehyun was sitting on his bed, his guitar in his hands instead of standing upright in the corner of his bedroom as typical, and glanced up when he heard your footsteps. “Hi.”
“Hi, birthday boy,” you greeted. 
Jaehyun was smiling. You had already wished him a happy birthday at midnight on the dot which was a sweet gesture in itself. 
“I, uh, got you something,” you said, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so nervous. 
“I can see that.” Jaehyun set his guitar aside. There was curiosity in his stare, but he whispered, “You didn’t have to.”
“But I wanted to. You’re my… friend,” you told him awkwardly, handing over the gift before it made you say something stupid. “I didn’t know what to get a guy who has literally everything he wants, but I tried.”
Jaehyun accepted the gift box graciously, peeling off the wrap, and said, “Whatever you got me is more than enough, baby.”
You sure hoped so. You didn’t spend the past few weeks stressing over this very moment for nothing. You wanted to give him something thoughtful and memorable. 
Anticipation made your heart sound like thunder. You fidgeted, twiddling your thumbs as Jaehyun slowly opened the box, retrieving a guitar strap alongside a couple of other items. The awe that tensed Jaehyun’s features was authentic and your heart was taut with giddiness when his lips tugged into a beaming smile. 
A few words scribbled onto the guitar strap caught Jaehyun’s attention and he unhesitatingly pulled them closer to his face to get a better look. It was like a little note, but words only you would say. Play me till the end. 
“Wow,” Jaehyun whispered, feeling a thumping inside of his ribcage. “You… I literally mentioned that I wanted one of these in passing.”
“When you talk, I listen.”
Jaehyun’s eyes met yours. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, straddling his lap and tossing your arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, baby.”
Jaehyun set his hands at your hips and kissed you restlessly, restraint taking the backseat as he absorbed every bit of your warmth and used it to fuel his fire. Your lips took him to the other side but your hands kept him grounded. 
Things felt different now. Kissing Jaehyun had never not been spellbinding, but right now? The feeling in your chest was indescribably hot. 
But it was dangerous and terrifying. It defied everything you told yourself to be true, and every principle you had laid out. This was deeper than building a relationship with the enemy. It was the intimacy that accompanied trusting another guy with your heart, and fighting the unshakable doubts. 
You had built something of a friendship with Jaehyun. Friends that occasionally kissed and felt each other up and had hooked up more than once. 
But what if you wanted more? What if you were really two star-crossed lovers that couldn’t have each other? What if?
Jaehyun wondered if your feelings had gotten as tense as his were. Months ago, he was telling himself not to get too close to you because of who your brother was and your clear lack of romantic intentions, but no amount of walls he put up could’ve prevented his feelings from getting this deep. 
You wouldn’t tell him even if they had. What good would it have done for him to know that you loved him, but you couldn’t have him? 
When Jaehyun pulled back, he stared into your eyes, not at your lips. “Let’s go make hot cocoa,” he said after a pause.
You blinked in surprise, but Jaehyun was already tugging you along before you could even think. 
The time in the kitchen together was a beautiful mess. You liked randomly bursting out into song and Jaehyun liked dancing, which ultimately turned into him tenderly cradling you there in his arms and mumbling into your ear, the hot cocoa all but forgotten. 
You especially liked the toasty smell of a hot, creamy mug of hot chocolate. It was very Jaehyun-like. The winter seasons in general were reminiscent of his personality, not because he was cold (like some people assumed), but the sheer opposite. 
Jaehyun was the warmest guy that you had ever met, in a way. Anyone who said otherwise didn’t have the privilege of knowing him, but you? You liked to think that you had him all figured out.
Maybe there was a chance you did to an extent. Getting to know him over the course of these long months had definitely shifted your previous perspective. Jaehyun kept to himself because he was afraid of his vulnerability being used as a weapon, but when you broke those stubborn barriers, you saw that Jaehyun was just a guy that wanted a home. 
He had one, metaphorically speaking, but no one to share it between. That was why you used to think he was shy, and why others thought he was cold. Jaehyun wanted to protect the home he’d built for himself and was reluctant to let others in, because he wanted it to be sturdy for the ones he would let stay.  
A hopeless romantic to his core. 
After making sure the kitchen was tidy, Jaehyun led you away to the infamous white couch that stretched along his living room wall. Your favorite spot in the whole house. Aside from his bedroom, of course.
Jaehyun, on the other hand, couldn’t decide. Half of it was littered in a slew of memories of you and his whole bedroom smelled more like you than it did himself now. Picking a favorite would be an impossible choice. 
There was a lull of silence as the two of you sipped from your mugs, but it wasn’t an issue. The silence was always comfortable with Jaehyun, as well as literally everything else about him. 
Though you didn’t notice, the weird thing now was that Jaehyun was less secure. He didn’t make it obvious, but he was remarkably nervous. Jaehyun tried to cloak his nerves when he said, “I kind of got you something, too.”
Your eyes went wide with shock. “You got me something… for your birthday?”
“I mean, yeah. It’s also Valentine’s day and you’re… important to me,” Jaehyun confessed softly, a tiny smile breaking out onto his lips. 
“I am?”
“You are,” he whispered, hurriedly reaching into his pockets for something. Imagine your surprise when he dropped a USB drive into the palm of your hand. “Stick it into your computer when you get home.”
You nodded obediently, sitting it on the coffee table so that it wouldn’t be crushed in your jeans, but your innate curiosity was never satisfied and you asked, “What’s on it?”
“A surprise,” was all Jaehhyun said. 
You hummed. If Jaehyun didn’t want to tell you, you knew it would be pointless to press. 
But you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t killing you. 
Jaehyun knew that. He knew you were a curious individual, because he was drawn to your insatiable need to know. But he didn’t want to be there to see your reaction. Just looking at you made his chest taut and rejection’s brutal fangs still ripped him to shreds. 
At least you couldn’t tell by looking at him. Jaehyun had made sure of that. “Talk to me,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
You smiled, because his hands were warm from the hot cocoa. “About what?”
“Tell me more about yourself. It’s been months, but I feel like there’s still more to know about you. Talk to me about what you love. Your hopes and dreams.”
A little sigh left you. “Where do I even begin?” That was what you said, but you’d already continued without affording yourself any time to pause. “I want to be an orthopedic surgeon. I’m obsessed with anatomy and how our bodies function. That’s why I’ve been busting my ass for grad school.”
That much was obvious. Anybody that saw you on the party scene might’ve assumed you were merely another hopeless college student who only knew hooking up and getting shit-faced drunk, but Jaehyun’s first time seeing you was in the back of a library with a laptop and a heap of textbooks. 
You were a hard-worker and no hangover stood a chance between you and your goals. But you were also just a normal girl who wanted to let loose sometimes. It was the perfect balance. 
Jaehyun was a keen listener. “That sounds tough.”
You fought a groan. “God, yes. But it’s so worth it. It’s my senior year and I’ve been waiting my whole life for med school.”
“You’ve wanted to be a surgeon for that long?”
“I’ve always known who I wanted to be,” you exhaled contentedly. And for that you were endlessly grateful. “What about you?”
Jaehyun shook his head. “No. Not always. First, I guess I had to leave home and do the whole ‘finding yourself’ thing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s rare that people are born with an innate sense of who they are. We deserve to live life through trial and error. That’s freedom,” you said.
Jaehyun wholeheartedly agreed. Leaving home to explore his identity might’ve been the toughest decision he ever made, but also the best one. “What about love?”
“What about it?”
“Did you ever dream of that, too?”
You should’ve figured he would go there. It was the essential question. The world of trauma beyond your control. “I used to,” you admitted, somber. “I just haven’t had a ton of faith in it lately. That’s what happens when you grow up, I think. You realize life’s not like the movies.”
Funny how I call you a hopeless romantic when hopeless romantics are anything but hopeless. In spite of the pain and the betrayal, they refuse to accept that they might die alone one day. If anything, I’m the hopeless one. I’ve fallen in love with the one boy I could never make mine. 
Jaehyun frowned for a split second, but recovered quickly. “Yeah, I know.”
You wondered who had hurt him, but chose not to ask. If he wanted to tell you, then he already would’ve. 
“You didn’t ask me,” Jaehyun started. 
You glanced up at him. 
“About my pain,” he continued shortly. “About her.”
“I didn’t think you were ready.”
“Do you want to know?”
“I mean, yeah. Of course, I want to know who hurt you and how that made you who you are. I want to understand you. But only as much as you want me to,” you told him. The truth was that as curious as you were, you were afraid of overstepping. The same way that Jaehyun was terrified of oversharing. 
He replied with total certainty, “I want you to know.”
You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat and unsure why. It was his deep, dark secrets being revealed, not yours. Plus you were positive there wasn’t a single person in the county who didn’t know your history with your one and only ex. “Okay. Take your time.”
Jaehyun heaved a shaky breath, preparing himself to share something that he’d never specifically told anyone. “Back home in Seoul, I dated a girl. I was naive and I thought she was the one. But she wasn’t. She only wanted a guy handsome enough to impress her parents.”
You maintained eye contact to let Jaehyun know you were listening. 
Jaehyun continued, “I guess we had different desires in life. She wanted a boy to show off and I wanted a girl who was my best friend at the foundation. We only talked about surface things. I couldn’t be myself around her.”
You nodded. That sounded like the Jaehyun you knew. 
“Then, I found out she was cheating on me,” Jaehyun added calmly, but he still recalled the trembles of anger that wrecked through his body. “And I left her then and there. I dipped. I might’ve been a naive idiot, but I knew my worth. She was my first and my last.”
You were shocked. That you shared the same pain - an unfaithful partner - and that Jaehyun hadn’t had nearly as many other partners as you thought he would’ve. “You’ve only dated once?”
“For me, once was enough to figure out what I wanted in a relationship, and it wasn’t a girl who I could barely trust or be myself with,” Jaehyun said. “I talked to other girls, but like I said before, nothing lasted, and I’ve obviously hooked up.”
Ironically, I’ve been hurt more by girls I never had than a girl that was supposed to belong to me. 
“I harbored resentment for a long time, but what lasted longer was the leftover fear of trusting someone again. I only let people see what I want them to see. And because of that, I’m a little lonely sometimes, but it’s okay.”
“Does it get sad?” you asked quietly. 
Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, but it’s better than being heartbroken. Anyways, I’ve gotten better about inviting people into my life and having good judgment. Time makes it easier.”
You make it easier, was what he meant, but Jaehyun wasn’t that bold yet. He might have been the one to approach you and attempt to initiate this private affair, but you sticking around was the last thing he expected. And that opened the door for the possibility that relationships didn’t have expiration dates. 
Reading between the lines, you were hoping that somewhere along them he wasn’t hinting about a potential future with you. Jaehyun’s head was in the clouds, but you were grounded below the surface. Because you had already resigned yourself to the fact that you didn’t have a future together.
But of course, that never stopped you from letting him undress you. 
You were hyper aware of Jaehyun’s eyes staring into yours and it was beginning to unnerve you a little. “Is there hot cocoa on my face?”
Jaehyun shook his head with a cute laugh and finally leaned into you for a kiss, obviously done speaking and prepared to show. You let him take you down onto the couch, laid defenseless beneath him, on the edge of surrender. 
You giggled into his lips, pleased at how silly it was that he tasted like the hot drink you’d shared. Your hands were wound through his hair and tugging him closer to you, wanting to be inseparable. You wouldn’t be sated till his soul was tied to yours. 
When it came to your body, you were more than inclined to let Jaehyun dominate you. But your heart was more than you had bargained for. 
Jaehyun yanked at the waistband of your sweatpants and you swore you could sense your heart swelling with the exhilaration of getting laid by the only guy you wanted. You raised your hips, letting him take them and your underwear from underneath you. 
You gasped loudly when his fingers ghosted along the insides of your thighs and unhurriedly traveled to your core, which was throbbing at the barest of touches. Jaehyun made you ache. Your body neglected every thought that didn’t concern him when it longed for him to use it until you were sore. 
Jaehyun sucked a slick pair of fingers into his mouth fleetingly before inserting them inside your pussy, making you verbally respond to the contact with a soft whimper, and stole the sound right from your lips with a hot wet kiss. You only tightened around his digits when he pressed his lips to you and it made his head spin quicker than ever. 
You pulled back and panted, “So, you won’t let me sleep on the couch, but you’ll fuck me on it?”
“It’s seen worse days,” Jaehyun said, muting the sound of his own chuckle when he pressed his mouth to your neck. 
You were torn between a laugh and a moan and the final sound was a breathy whimper of Jaehyun’s name. His mouth felt too good on your neck and you couldn’t forget his hands between your parted legs. Gentleman in the streets, but a beast in the sheets. 
Jaehyun was touching you impatiently. Your exhales were loud and jagged when he pulled back from your stained throat, and Jaehyun couldn’t help but imagine the noises you would make when he was finally seated deeply inside of your pussy that was clenching around his long slender digits. 
Deciding you were wet enough to take his cock, Jaehyun recouped his hand from between your thighs and asked, “You ready for me, baby?”
“More than,” you whispered, disgruntled with the emptiness but consoled by the knowledge that you would be full of him momentarily. 
Jaehyun stepped out of his clothes without hesitation and got a hold of your naked legs, dragging you toward him and leaving no room for empty space. The two of you locked eyes when he finally started to penetrate you and he looked at you with need. But you glanced away. You couldn’t stare into his soul as he captured yours. You couldn’t do it. 
You moaned when he pushed the head of his cock through your entrance and again when it went as deeply as it could enter. The stretch was so mad, but so good. You never knew how closely the pain could be interlocked to pleasure before Jaehyun took you for a spin on his big cock.
Jaehyun pulled out with a disgruntled groan, stealing the pleasure before you could really soak in the sensation. 
You winced your eyes open and asked confusedly, “Why did you do that?”
“I forgot a condom,” Jaehyun admitted bashfully, a timid little glint in his stare. 
“Gee, you sure chose a fantastic time to remember,” you deadpanned. 
Jaehyun looked like he was a little ashamed and it amused the hell out of you. In the heat of your vice-like cunt, he’d lost track of all thoughts other than getting his cock inside. 
You gawked when he stood and you caught an eyeful of his cute butt when he turned for the stairs. “Where are you going?”
Like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world, Jaehyun replied nonchalantly, “To get a condom.”
“Sit your cute ass down,” you told him a bit too assertively. “You can have me raw.” 
Jaehyun looked like his brain short-circuited. “For real?”
You nodded. “Yes, for real, you dummy. Just pull out.”
Jaehyun combed his fingers through his hair and groaned, “That’s one hell of a responsibility, woman.”
You purred teasingly, “Are you scared you won’t be able to do it, or are you scared that you’ll bust too fast?”
Jaehyun’s eyes fell to your gorgeous, spread legs, thickly swallowing the lump in his throat at the mouth-watering sight of you laid bare and exposed as you waited for him to take you. Fuck. Maybe both.
You snickered to yourself. Unbeknownst to Jaehyun, you were on birth control. And you had no intention of telling him right now. You wanted to gauge his restraint. 
Jaehyun didn’t reply, but he did return to the couch to slip between your folds again, and that was even better. Your pussy throbbed tirelessly, missing the way his thick cock stretched you out, and it drew deep grunts from the very back edge of Jaehyun’s throat. 
You could feel every inch of him pressed deep inside your pulsing walls, flush against you. All of him. There was literally nothing to separate the two of you, exactly as you had wanted, only the heat and tightness of your cunt suffocating his cock relentlessly. 
Jaehyun loved how you took him like a fucking champ. You sucked his cock back in like you needed it, like you needed him just as badly as he needed you. Your eyes winced closed and your lips parted as you sang his name in a shrill whimper. 
You were rapt with ecstasy at his long, deep thrusts that took you to the moon. The pain and guilty thoughts disappeared into his slow yet steady rhythm, as if Jaehyun wanted to make sure you could feel every bit of himself that he had to offer. 
Like he was making love to you.
“You’re so beautiful. I’m in love with your body,” Jaehyun whispered gently into your ear, hooked on you.
You moaned, oblivious to the fact that he really meant he was in love with you. When your naked bodies were bursting with heat and satisfaction, meeting each other in a wet collision, all else ceased to matter. 
Jaehyun kissed you again. You swore he stole the pulse right from your chest in that very moment, your heart open to him. His hands were everywhere, tenderly cupping your breasts and thumbing your stiff nipples. This was pleasure. This was elysian. This was all yours.
You were breathless when the two of you separated and the minutes of your lips tangled together felt like mere seconds. God, Jaehyun made you insatiable. As you did to him. The two of you couldn’t get enough, not of the sex and not of each other. It was lethally dangerous to want something as badly as you both wanted one another. 
But you knew that when you laid eyes on him, when you indulged him. You knew that he was endless trouble and yet you crept into his arms anyway like a moth to the flame. 
“God, fuck,” you rasped, throat hoarse from how you were screeching his name. “You make me feel so good.”
Jaehyun was so gentle and affectionate with you, tickling kisses down every bit of your soft skin his lips could access. It was times like these, when he completed you perfectly, where you welcomed the thought that you were made for each other. And only for each other. 
Your mouth was dry, open with every halfway cry of Jaehyun’s name that you could manage. Your skin was damp and sticky with moisture, a thin layer of sweat keeping his skin adhering to yours. Of course, there was a similar glistening sheen dripping down Jaehyun, beading at his forehead and neck. 
It made you lick your chapped lips. This man was abundantly mouth-watering. You wanted to give him anything he wanted and in this sex-induced haze, you knew that you would have. 
Jaehyun noticed your eyes fixated on literally anywhere but his face and it made him chuckle smugly. He craned his head downwards to nibble beneath your ear and groan praises about how perfect and tight you were around his cock. 
You tangled your hands in his hair again, desperate to ground yourself, before sitting them at his handsome broad shoulders. He had no business being this good at touching and fucking you. You were downright ashamed of the noises that left your lips but made no attempts to block the pleasure causing them to slip into the dense air. 
“Like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Jay,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders. 
The thought of you releasing around his bare cock made a shudder shoot through Jaehyun and he almost couldn’t take it. You sensed his pace getting a little rougher, as if he was out to get you. Out to finish you. “Look at me,” he growled. 
You did. You didn’t have any other options. Not when it was him bleeding you dry, making your body dependent on his touches.
Looking into his dark eyes, everything stopped. The whole world was set on pause. You almost couldn’t breathe. This was how it felt to fall with no anchor.
“I want you to cum on my cock,” Jaehyun said lowly, rutting into you at a dangerous pace. 
You nodded. You were completely submissive to his desires.
There was a throbbing pressure in your gut that only got harsher with every wet smack of Jaehyun’s hips into yours. You wound your legs around his waist and pulled him into you, wanting to fuse together your limbs. 
Your body felt as if it were on fire. The sweat cooling down your neck, the lack of oxygen in the air. The breaths Jaehyun snatched plain from your lips. It was more than enough to take you out. 
Jaehyun watched as your orgasm finally seized you in its open arms, taking you by surprise. Your abs tensed viciously and you arched into Jaehyun with pleasure, sensing your eyes roll to the very back of your head and your toes curl into taut knots. 
You were still sensitive from your climax but Jaehyun’s pace was absolutely unforgiving, rutting into you mercilessly through your release. The tightness of your pussy drew a thick groan out of his mouth, but he still wasn’t done with you yet. And you were very keen on letting him use your body until he finished. 
Jaehyun relented when you finally started to calm down after coming undone, kissing your cheeks and the corner of your lips as you went almost entirely slack. The only motion in you was the aggressive heave of your chest as you panted for breath. 
You let Jaehyun thrust in and out of you, fighting the overstimulation for his sake. You were content to feel him brushing against your slick walls and hear those breathy grunts. 
Smoothing your hands up and down his burly arms, you whispered, “Jay, baby, keep going. I don’t care how long it takes. Fuck me until you’re done.”
Jaehyun bit his lip to veil a pathetic moan at those words. After he took care of your needs, you were letting him ply you for his own pleasure. You were his vice, his ruining. Your fingers grazed across his back, gathering the droplets of moisture that were beading at the surface. 
You could feel how hot his skin was, burning up in the heat of you. 
Abruptly, Jaehyun pulled out of you and tore you upright, holding his desperate cock in the palm of his hand as he groaned, “Get on your knees.” 
You obeyed without hesitation, meek. Crawling onto the carpet floor, you took him in your palms and stroked his thick girthy cock gingerly, careful not to be too rough. He was victimless in your warm hands, needy and at your mercy, leaving you with total control. 
Then it was game over for Jaehyun when you finally took him between your soft lips, gently easing him to the back of your throat. God, it was a struggle to fit his big cock completely into your mouth, but you somehow managed. You kept your cheeks hollowed, opening them for him to thrust. 
“Fuck,” Jaehyun moaned, head thrown back and eyes winced closed. You knew exactly what needed to be done to finish him off. 
You liked playing with his cock, obviously, but you loved having it in your mouth way more. There was nothing like driving Jaehyun to the cusp of insanity, teasing him with your tongue and hot mouth, plucking those beautiful sounds out of his lips. He lost himself whenever he was inside your throat. 
Jaehyun was in total bliss. Your mouth was no less impressive than your sheathlike cunt for all he knew, your lips wrapping around his stiff cock feverishly without a doubt in your mind that you could make him lose his own, and he almost didn’t want to orgasm yet. He only knew you, and what you did to him. And he was too greedy to want it to end. 
You had this boy all to yourself, wrapped tightly around your fingers with nowhere to hide. And you didn’t have the slightest clue what to do with him, or yourself. 
Aside from pleasuring each other in bed, or on the couch in this case. You were exceptionally gifted at getting him off.
Jaehyun could feel himself approaching the threshold of release and he did everything in his power to fight it off, to keep it at bay, but it was basically useless. He couldn’t even help but fuck your mouth. You were working him too good and he was coming whether he liked it or not. 
You were impressed that he had even lasted this long. Normally, when you let a guy hit it raw, they could barely resist emptying their load into you at the peak of climax. 
Jaehyun ultimately couldn’t control himself anymore and his jaw slacked with a deep, lethal groan as his hips came to a total standstill, painting the back of your throat with a streak of cum. Fuck, it was the sexiest noise you’d ever heard, and it aroused a throbbing between your legs. 
You managed to gulp him down and it was the hottest thing Jaehyun had ever seen watching you swallow his cum like that. He pulled back, a misty gleam in his dark soulless eyes as he collapsed onto the couch, breathless. There was a layer of dew at your lashes and you dabbed at your eyes to wipe them clear. 
Jaehyun looked like he’d just had the ground ripped from underneath him. “You just blew my mind,” he said through jagged breaths. 
You didn’t miss a beat. “I just blew you.”
Jaehyun laughed, shaking the hair out of his face. 
After both of you found your clothes and redressed yourselves, you decided to mention slyly, “By the way, I’m on birth control.”
Jaehyun’s mouth gaped open. “Are you serious? I was scared you might get pregnant.”
“That didn’t stop you from fucking me though, now did it?” you replied, crossing your arms. 
“I wasn’t that scared.”
You snickered. This idiot was a man you wanted to protect with your life, but you knew that you lacked the arsenal. “Besides, at least our baby would’ve had the world’s finest father.”
“And the world’s finest mother. They would’ve been beautiful,” Jaehyun flirted. 
Your cheeks flushed with heat at the compliment and his obvious flirtatious behavior. “I meant that you would’ve been a good dad, but sure. That works too.”
Jaehyun’s eyes flickered in shock. “Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, not thinking too hard about it. You didn’t need to when the answer was right at the tip of your tongue. “Because love itself is your passion. You’re selfless, patient. Protective. And you fight for what you love.”
Jaehyun said nothing. He was mulling over your confession, suspiciously quiet the whole time, but you were so tired that you hardly noticed. Your body was spent and you wanted to go upstairs and climb into his bed. 
You stretched your arms over your head and stood to collect the cocoa-stained dishes in your arms. Jaehyun blinked at the action, and would’ve stopped you to do it himself, but you were already halfway to the kitchen by the time he noticed. 
Jaehyun walked over and pressed himself behind you, draping his arms around your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder. You giggled, enamored with how it felt to be skin-to-skin with him, and when you finished with the two mugs, he reached over your head to set them down in the cabinets. 
You dragged Jaehyun upstairs by his arm to his own bedroom and slipped beneath his silk sheets, but invited him to drape himself above you and rest his head on your chest like you were his fluffy pillow and he was the thick, cozy blankets. 
It was comfortable that way. You liked Jaehyun’s weight on you, so close to you, crushed beneath the pressure. His arms would tangle around you and leave you little room to escape. But you wouldn’t want to leave. 
That was how you woke up sometimes. You used to be afraid that you’d accidentally rouse him and disturb his beauty slumber, but Jaehyun always slept like a ton of bricks. This boy could probably sleep through a hurricane and wake up wondering what happened to his roof. 
You sighed, whisking your fingers through his dark hair and staring at his face. You expected his eyes to be closed when you looked at him, but they were watching you. The ache in your chest was unignorable, unbearable. 
Those long nights and shorter mornings with Jaehyun were all you had, but you wanted something of permanence and you were finally admitting it to yourself. You knew these moments couldn’t last forever and didn’t attempt to deny it, but you were hoping and wishing. 
Smoothing your thumb down Jaehyun’s cheek, you felt a piece of your heart crumble. I can’t have you and I don’t even know why. 
“Jay?” you whispered. 
“Hm?”
You hesitated, brimming with reluctance. A few months ago, you would’ve thought it wasn’t your place to ask, but dammit Johnny was your brother and Jaehyun… meant something to you. This was officially your business. “Why does my brother hate you?” you asked. 
Jaehyun sat up abruptly, surprised. You matched the shock in his eyes, startled by his sudden movements. “You don’t know?”
You shook your head. “No. Johnny never told me. I assumed he would when he was ready, but it’s killing me and I need to know.” Because I can’t make sense of why we can’t be together, but ironically, it makes it easier to justify being here with you right now.
Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair, looking particularly perturbed. No wonder it was so easy for you to climb into bed with him. Night after night, weekend after weekend. 
You were almost afraid to ask, “Is this going to change my perspective on you?”
“It shouldn’t if you believe me,” Jaehyun said, but the truth was that he wasn’t too confident that you’d take his side. 
You peered up at him expectantly, resting your hand on his back while he sat beside you. You were partly terrified to know the truth, watching him nervously, but god, you were exhausted of being kept in the dark. 
Jaehyun exhaled deeply. He didn’t want to lose you, not before he truly had you, but he knew what he was, and more importantly, he knew what he wasn’t. “You knew Mike, right?”
You bobbed your head, lips parting in surprise at the mention of Johnny’s friend, but let him continue. 
Jaehyun explained, “I’m sure you know, but he was addicted to drugs and it was fucking up his whole life. I tried to help him get clean before he fucked around and killed himself. And he was, I think. That’s what he said.”
You recognized this story. Johnny had said something similar, but it was about his own efforts. You somehow never realized that Jaehyun and Mike were friends. “But?”
“But then he wasn’t clean anymore,” Jaehyun said in the tiniest voice ever. “Last year, at one of Xiaojun’s parties. It came out of nowhere. He overdosed on fent and coke.”
You knew that too. And you hated that Mike was gone so soon, taken by a poison he couldn’t stop once he’d gotten his hands on it. It was heartbreaking. 
“Then some people started to say that I did it, that I gave him the drugs. And I was at the party only a room away when he OD’d, but I swear to god it wasn’t me. But they ran with it anyway.”
You frowned, pausing your hands’ consolations at his back in shock. It was starting to add up now, why Johnny hated Jaehyun. Because he thought he was complicit in the death of one of his closest friends. 
That was when he started to become a tad too overprotective of you and it didn’t take a genius to piece together why, but you never knew it was the reason he loathed Jaehyun and didn’t want you anywhere near him. There were so many nights where you went to parties at Jaehyun’s house and Johnny would ask if you’d done any drugs. 
Because of Jaehyun. 
“God, to this day, I want to punch the bastard that gave Mike that stuff. And if I knew who he was, I’d kick his ass. So, I can understand why Johnny wants to kick mine. But it wasn’t me,” Jaehyun said, sounding broken. 
You blinked, taking it all in silently. You were at a crossroads. 
Though he was hesitant, Jaehyun glanced into your eyes, unsure of what your silence meant. It was killing him. “Please tell me you believe me.”
“I believe you,” you said, because you did. You had no reason to doubt Jaehyun. Plus you hadn’t known him to press his luck with anything other than weed in the time that you’d known each other. 
“Thank god,” Jaehyun sighed in relief. “Does this change things between us?”
You shook your head. “No. I thought you were a good guy before and I still think you’re a good guy now. Nothing is new.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Jaehyun rested his head on your shoulder and mumbled with obvious melancholy, “Trusting me.”
You laced your fingers through Jaehyun’s, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always trust you.”
That warmed Jaehyun’s heart and he sat there wondering what he had done to deserve you. It felt like there was a burden lifted from his shoulders. 
The day went on, bleeding into night. You expected Jaehyun to want to go somewhere to celebrate his birthday, but he reassured you that he was more than content to spend it indoors with you.
Still, it made you a little sad and you tried your best to cloak your gloomy emotions with your affections. You didn’t want Jaehyun to know, but you were thinking about how nice it would’ve been to do something as simple as go out together. 
Reasonably, you were shocked when Jaehyun said, “I want to try out this Japanese restaurant with you next weekend.”
You blinked. “You want to go out… with me?” you asked, making sure you weren’t mistaken. 
Jaehyun nodded, enthusiastic. “Is that a bad idea?”
“What if we get caught together?”
Jaehyun shrugged. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Of course it is. You don’t have anything to lose,” you said, but your tone was humorous.
Jaehyun replied without hesitation, “I have you to lose.”
You were sold. Those five words were all you needed to hear.
There was a ginormous beaming smile on your face when you both finally decided to call it a night and you fell asleep with a certain soreness in your cheeks. 
Jaehyun stayed up a little later than you had. Not on purpose, but it was impossible to rest his eyes when he was distracted by your sleep patterns. Your soft snores and the way your hand curled over his stomach. 
It was the sheer opposite of annoying. It was intoxicating. 
He was the one clinging to you when you roused from bed after sunrise. You felt bad for slipping away like a thief in the night, but in your defense, it was daytime and you had to be in your professor’s classroom for attendance. 
After washing up and tossing on a spare outfit you had in Jaehyun’s room for events like these, you scribbled an apologetic note that he would surely find on his nightstand and quietly crept downstairs with a sadness weighing on you now that you had to leave. 
And surely enough, Jaehyun woke up to the note and smiled like a dumbass when he rubbed his eyes and read it to himself. 
Good morning, sleeping handsome. I’m gonna miss you today, but I have an early afternoon class that I have to pass to graduate. You sleep like deadweight, by the way. I had to fight out of your arms and you didn’t notice. See you next weekend. Call me. 
Jaehyun crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower, but he could tell that you’d obviously already taken one with a single simple glance, and he was wishing you had invited him to join you. 
Now he sounded like a guy. Which was fair, because he was one. 
You raced home after class ended. Though you had more than enough exams that it would’ve been a good idea to study for, the main thing on your mind was plugging in the flash drive Jaehyun had gifted you, because you still were dying to know what was on it. 
It was safe to say that a song was the last thing you were expecting. 
You froze on your bed, unsure of how to feel. Everything hit you hard. The wistful yet romantic lyrics, the softness of his voice. Jaehyun was pouring his heart out to you, opening up to you about his feelings the best way he knew how. 
There was a ripple of emotions bursting through you. The lyrics were a little too sentimental for you to attempt to convince yourself that this wasn’t Jaehyun’s idea of a love confession. Maybe you’d known all along, but you didn’t want to accept it, because you knew that it wasn’t written in the stars. 
Now you had no choice. 
You sat there and cried. God, it was a beautiful song and that only made the tears drip even harder. You were bemused and overwhelmed. Bemused that he had obviously taken a lot of time out of his busy life to sit there and record a song for you, and overwhelmed by everything else. 
Jaehyun loves me. Jaehyun really loves me, you thought, admitting it to yourself. And it scared you to death, because you loved him too. 
Then the day came for you to hang out at the restaurant. It was the first time you and Jaehyun actually spent time together outside of his house. The meetup on the bridge and the incident at Jeno’s house didn’t count. Those were merely instances you’d happened to cross paths. 
When Jaehyun came up behind you in a back hug while you were waiting for him (you were embarrassingly early), you didn’t jolt or startle, relaxing into his touch without sparing him a glance first. Nobody else would be wearing his sexy ass cologne. 
You didn’t mention the song or acknowledge the obvious romantic tension between you at all, much to Jaehyun’s disappointment. But he knew you definitely took the flash drive back home. It wasn’t on the coffee table when he went downstairs, meaning you had grabbed it on your way out.   
He couldn’t help but wonder if you had listened to it and vividly pictured your reaction, but Jaehyun knew it would be pointless obsessing over the thought if he wasn’t going to ask. 
The truth was that you were conflicted. Your heart wanted Jaehyun, but you were rational and knew it was ridiculous. There was no point in setting yourselves up for more useless heartbreak. 
But you had fun with Jaehyun in that restaurant. You didn’t want to admit it, but it was the closest thing to a date you would ever have with him. You talked and held hands underneath the table like the pair of lovers you hoped you were in another life. 
Your insatiable lovesick heart was aching for more. And the worst part was that Jaehyun was oftentimes right there in your arms but had never felt further. 
It wasn’t until you were unfortunately back home and walking through the front door that you read aloud the text you’d received from Johnny. We need to talk. I’ll be home in an hour. “Well, that cannot be good,” you mumbled to yourself. 
“It isn’t.”
You jolted in alarm. You didn’t know Johnny was home, though it had most definitely been well over an hour. Jaehyun was too interesting for you to even think about touching your phone once. 
Given the familiar less than content glare on Johnny’s face, you fought a groan, wondering what you could’ve possibly done now when you’d been on your best behavior lately. You lilted in the usual tone you used when you wanted to get out of trouble, “Hi, my handsome big brother that I love dearly.”
Johnny, obviously not in the mood, snapped, “Taeyong saw you with Jaehyun today. You wanna explain that to me?”
That was the last thing you expected him to say and the shock was plain on your face. “What?”
Johnny shook his head, unsurprised that you were acting clueless, and though he was furious he tried not to raise his voice. “Don’t play dumb. Are you dating him - fucking him?”
“I’m not dating him, we’re just…,” you trailed in frustration, realizing that you’d been caught. “Shit, yeah. I’ve fucked him and we’re hanging out.”
Johnny blew out a long, exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe this. God, my own sister.”
Tears threatened. At this point, you were desperate. Your whole world was crashing down without warning. You wished you would’ve at least seen the text and braced yourself. “Johnny, please. If you gave him a chance, I think you two would really like each other!”
“I could never like him,” Johnny replied viciously, face tensing in fury as if the suggestion was an affront to his entire existence.  
You approached Johnny, somehow mustering the courage to come near him. “Please listen to me, alright? He didn’t do it, Johnny. It wasn’t him!”
Johnny gawked. He couldn’t believe you were defending Jaehyun and took a gigantic step back, wanting to be nowhere near you. He hissed, “Of course that’s what the bastard told you. Did he give you proof?”
Frantic, you shook your head, and it came to you that you only had trust to back Jaehyun’s claims. “No, but...”
Johnny grabbed his keys and interjected, “Stop. Just stop. I don’t even want to see your face right now.”
Your lips were agape when Johnny stormed towards the garage, full of purebred rage and disappointment. 
After a few minutes, the shock started to dull away and you temporarily regained the ability to function, racing upstairs to your bedroom to be inert. You hated the brutal sting splitting you in half. While your thoughts were on pause and you were consumed by emptiness, it was the one thing keeping you from dissociating. 
Sitting there on your bed, knees pressed to your chest and your arms curled around yourself, you couldn’t even cry. It would come, but right now you were trying to process the pain. And in the meantime, you realized what needed to be done.
Two long days later, you were meeting Jaehyun at the bridge one final time. It took nearly forty-eight hours of gathering the courage to pick up your phone, but you had to let him know it was over. That this was goodbye. 
You ran your fingers across the wooden overlook, taking in nature, but even the peaceful noise of your surroundings failed to soothe your heartbreak. 
The sound of tentative footsteps barely drew you from your own head, and you didn’t want to face your visitor. You knew it was Jaehyun. For more reasons than one. 
Though you couldn’t see, Jaehyun had his hands in his pockets. “Am I late?”
“No, you’re perfectly on time. I got here early. I needed time to think,” you replied with a fleeting glance at your watch. 
Jaehyun watched you with unease, a perturbed thud in his heart making it challenging to breathe. This was bad, he knew, and for whatever reason, that fear that he was doomed was unshakable. “What happened?”
“Johnny knows,” you began, finally whipping around. It was the least you could do, knowing you had to break his heart. “Taeyong saw us together. He snitched. Now Johnny wants nothing to do with me.”
Jaehyun’s heart sank. No wonder you hadn’t texted or called him in two days. Aside from inviting him here, that is. “What now?”
“I can’t see you anymore. Johnny already hates me now. If I keep seeing you behind his back, I won’t have a brother anymore. I can’t live with that guilt. That’s why I’ve been running from it for months,” you said quietly. 
Jaehyun stiffened, like a boulder. “We’re giving up? That’s insane! Don’t let him stop us from being together.”
You recoiled, surprised. “Are you asking me to choose you over my brother?”
“No, of course not,” Jaehyun sighed, combing his hands through his hands as he searched for the right words. 
You desperately wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. “You should be with someone who can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone you can hold and kiss outside without any worries. I can’t give you that, Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun shook his head. “None of that matters to me. I want to be with you. I don’t care what compromises I have to make.”
“Well, I do,” you whispered sullenly, reminding yourself of everything you had to lose. “It was never going to work. You had to know this. We aren’t Shakespeare characters. Hell, even they don’t get to be happy!”
Jaehyun’s chest was taut with pain. It was usually him that had to tell people the brutal reality of unfortunate situations. And this was how it felt to be on the other side?
Fighting the oncoming threat of tears, you continued, “I’ve enjoyed these past months with you and we’ve made special, unforgettable memories together. But enough is enough. We were gonna have to face the truth one day, and that day is today. It was inevitable. I hope that somehow we can still be friends.”
Jaehyun spat, “I don’t want to be just friends. I can’t be just friends with you. Why don’t you understand that?”
Oh, you did. You really, really did. This was hurting you in ways unimaginable and nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment where you had to set Jaehyun free. 
Not even knowing this day would come. 
“I love you,” Jaehyun confessed for the first time, taking some steps closer to you. The gleam in his eyes killed you. 
Those words were like ice in your veins. Your heart stopped beating. For half a minute, the whole world ceased. You shook your head, sensing a vicious pain returning to you. “You can’t love me.”
Jaehyun switched on a dime and hissed, “You can’t tell me how to feel.”
Denial still crept through your blood. Apparently, it was one of your many talents. Jaehyun’s too. “You’re in love with the idea of me. You just want somebody to love again and maybe I made you realize that, but you don’t love me.”
Jaehyun was trembling. You were trying to diagnose him and he wouldn’t stand for it. “Saying that doesn’t make it true.”
You were defiant. You needed it to be true. There had to be some way to get him to let you go and move on. You didn’t want to resort to cruel methods, but you would if you were rendered optionless. 
Jaehyun continued, “You did make me realize that I wanted love again. But I also realized that I could have it all in you.”
Finally pushed past your limits, you shattered and screamed, “Goddammit, Jaehyun - you can’t have me!”
You turned away, hoping he would let you leave. You didn’t want things to end on even worse terms than they already were. 
But you should’ve known Jaehyun would be relentless. He was a fighter. You were what he wanted, what he loved, and he’d damned if he surrendered without a fight. “So, that’s it? You’re just going to walk away?” 
You rooted in place and exhaled loudly, bristling with frustration. “The fuck do you want me to do, Jay? It’s out of my hands.”
“Talk to Johnny - you know that I didn’t do anything!”
“No, I don’t know anything,” you grumbled, crossing your arms tightly. 
That stunned Jaehyun. You didn’t trust him anymore?
Jaehyun laughed, but it was humorless. Needless to say, he was pissed. “Wow. You gave up the fight before it started, before it was over. You never gave us a chance.”
You walked away. You didn’t have the strength. 
Jaehyun kept prodding. You were unbelievable and he couldn’t stand you right now. “I bet this isn’t just about Johnny. I bet him being your brother is just a cop-out so that you don’t have to trust another guy again.”
Now that stung deep. He was hitting you where it hurt, making sure you understood how badly you had wounded him, and you realized there was a chance he was right and you hadn’t even considered it. You whipped around, snapping, “Fuck you. I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun watched you disappear behind the thick branches, simmering where he stood. God, he resented the fuck out of you right now. You were accepting defeat, throwing in the towel, and he hated you because of it. 
The seemingly endless months of ignorant bliss were washed down the drain all because you didn’t want to be a little more optimistic. You could’ve had it all together, had you not resigned yourself to being unhappy. You were so hell-bent on being realistic that you closed the door on other possibilities. 
Almost the second you burst through the front door, your tears fell after what felt like an eternity of fighting them back. Johnny and your parents turned to face you with alarm when you paraded through the living room, but you ignored your mother’s questions and made a beeline for your bed. 
Johnny didn’t ask. He already knew, and he was only somewhat satisfied that you had done what should’ve never needed to happen in the first place. 
The days of the week started to bleed into each other. You didn’t talk to Jaehyun for obvious reasons. Johnny, the man whose shoulders you thought would always be there for you to lean on, was ironically giving you the cold shoulder. And  Mark wouldn’t understand even if you explained, though you knew he was available. 
Never had you felt so alone. You had no one to escape to. No one who could comprehend or justify the moral dilemma you forced yourself into. I’ve truly outdone myself. I’ve betrayed my brother, baffled my best friend, and lost my lover back to back. That has to be a world record. 
Seven days marked the longest time you had gone without speaking with Jaehyun since the onset of this private love affair. He didn’t call or text you either, which was understandable. Plus it was what you wanted, or at least that was what you used to think. 
You weren’t sure anymore. Cutting him off was the whole purpose of meeting him, but why did it make you feel so isolated?
It wasn’t that long ago that you did it because you thought it was the right choice, or maybe because you thought it would make things better. But it hadn’t. Now that you had effectively shielded yourself from the universe, you were less free and more lonely. 
And time continued to fly by, days of leaving the house only to attend class and coming back to your room only to collapse into sorrow. 
Johnny felt bad. At night, there were a couple of times where he hovered near your door and heard you sobbing, but he was too petty and spiteful to knock or check up on you. You had stung him too. 
The difference was that when Mike died, you did everything in your power to console Johnny. You gave him the space he needed, of course, but you opened the door for him to talk to you if he wanted and lent him a shoulder to cry on. You bought all his favorite snacks and encouraged him to go outside, even if it was just the backyard. 
Now, you were suffering your own loss, one of many but in a different manner. It wasn’t like you were a bereaved wife, but the agony wasn’t any less excruciating. 
Mark came over whenever he had the extra time to spare every week to check up on you, reminding you that you weren’t as alone as you thought you were, but you still didn’t want to confide in him about your emotions. You were afraid he would unintentionally make you feel more stupid. 
You were a little verklempt. Maybe more than. They said time was the healer of all wounds, but with every week spent without Jaehyun’s familiar musk in the air and dreamy voice in your ear, you felt less and less whole.   
What could you have done to keep him close to you, even if it was just for a little while longer? Maybe if you hadn’t ended on such cold, distant terms, moving on would be easier and you would be happier. You could’ve contentedly looked back on the memories of your last time together knowing you had done everything in your control to make it better. 
But you were worried that that was false. You were worried that Jaehyun was right and this ending was premature. 
It doesn’t matter, premature or not. It was going to end either way. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, you reassured yourself in what you once believed was aggressively honest consolation, but you were starting to question how you could be so certain. 
You told yourself that with the burden of your immoral secrets weighing you down, you and Jaehyun could’ve never been a pair. You knew it wouldn’t last forever. You’d always known. You didn’t expect things to make it this far, but dammit you didn’t expect to have your fun cut short so soon either. 
It wasn’t fair. 
Sometimes you dreamt of what it would be like to hold Jaehyun in your arms without worries, without stolen touches and kisses when nobody was paying attention. 
You sat in the nook at your window, curled up into yourself, thinking only about Jaehyun. If it wasn’t for the stupid secret that unraveled far too damn quickly, maybe none of this would’ve ever happened. Maybe I would have you, with nothing to lose. Nothing to fear.
Fuck, you should’ve been happy. Given how unlucky in love you were, you doubted that you were intended to ever be happy. You hadn’t smiled in an eternity. But Jaehyun made you feel your peak of happiness, as if you had never been more euphoric with anybody else. 
More than once, you had been in love, but never like how you were in love with Jaehyun. Why did things have to become so complicated for the both of us? Why did reality hit like a fucking freight train?
If only you never fell for Jaehyun, never even gave him the time of day, then you wouldn’t be hurting. Your heart was being tortured. 
It took another day of stumbling into the kitchen with dark eye bags after yet another sleepless night of sobbing into your pillows, and Johnny ignoring your existence altogether while he poured himself a mug of coffee, but it finally occurred to you that you couldn’t relive this agonizing cycle over and over. 
You were sick of the pain and the dread. The insufferably cold distance when his bedroom was right down the hall from yours. You were sick of sniveling until you had no more tears left to weep, until you felt totally empty. 
Something had to give. 
To your surprise, and luck, Mark called you a few minutes after you strolled back into your room wordlessly, devising a plan you loathed yourself for not thinking of earlier. “Hey, bestie. Talk to me,” he said. “How you feeling?”
“Like judgment day came early for me, I guess,” you mumbled into the phone, collapsing onto your sheets. 
Mark sighed roughly. “Damn. I was hoping you would feel a little better this week. Johnny said you’re the world’s biggest hermit and it’s kinda depressing.”
That shocked you to your core, but you tried to play it off. “Oh, Johnny’s been talking about me?”
“Well, yeah. I’ve obviously been checking up on the both of you on the regular, and neither of you really wanna open up to me, but Johnny has less of an issue talking about you. Man, he still cares. He’s your brother.”
Your heart was sore. You wished he would tell you that himself. In your own home, to your own brother, you felt like a stranger. 
Tears burned your eyes, but you fought them and lilted playfully, “Oh, my beloved bestie…”
Mark knew that tone and interjected, “Fuck.”
You fought a tiny laugh and continued, “Would you mind doing your best friend a teeny tiny little favor?”
The suggestion alone sounded like bad news and Mark was questioning what he was about to get himself into, because no matter what came out his mouth first, you were his best friend. Of course, he was going to tell you “yes.”
Mark huffed, “Jesus. Ease up on the mischief. Johnny still wants to beat my ass too, you know? He asked me if I knew you were boning Jaehyun and of course I couldn’t lie. I’m a man of God.”
Because you didn’t feel like disputing that statement, you ignored his speech entirely and asked knowingly, “Your dad’s a cop, isn’t he?”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
Your voice was maybe a little hopeful. “Is there a way that he can look into the investigation of Mike’s overdose?”
Mark knew exactly why you were asking and even he was ashamed he hadn’t thought of the little plan. There was a brief pause before he said, “I’ll call you back.” And then he hung up. 
You were a little tense sitting there on your bed waiting around for a phone call. Not because you were worried about Mark not doing it, which would be ridiculous because you both wanted what was best for Johnny. It was because you were scared of not having a solution.
Deciding it would be useless to sit around antsily, you took a well-deserved nap after a restless twenty-four hours of no sleep. It would only do you good. Even if Mark didn’t have the answers you wanted, your grades would thank you.
Sleep came easy. Though they weren’t Jaehyun’s, it was nice and peaceful bunched beneath your blankets. You flipped your pillow over to the side that wasn’t stained with tears and let darkness take the wheel. 
Johnny peeked inside your room after an hour or two, wanting to talk to you, but when he saw you comfortably snoozing in your bed and obliviously clinging onto a spare pillow for dear life, he backed away and shut the door. He knew you needed the rest. 
You jolted awake when your phone started to ring vehemently beside your head, cursing yourself for not turning on Do Not Disturb before immediately remembering why you didn’t, and quickly lifting the phone to answer gruffly, “Hello?”
“Good news,” Mark started, sounding suspiciously chipper. “I had my dad pull some strings. And you’re gonna wanna hear this.”
Sitting up, you exclaimed in an impatient whisper, “Well?”
“Jeong Jaehyun is not a suspect, for one. There were witnesses that confirmed him giving Mike his fix was impossible. But for two, the case reopened a few months ago and they’re literally about to bust the guy that did it. They’re waiting on a warrant. You’ve got great timing,” Mark said. 
You rubbed your eyes in disbelief. “What the hell?”
“Isn’t this good news?”
“Yeah, it is,” you whispered, too shocked to know how to feel. You didn’t think the stupid plan would really work. “Thank you, Mark.”
Mark was quick to reassure you, “You don’t need to thank me. You’re my best friend and Johnny is like my brother-in-law in some weird way. See, that sounds weird. Anyways, when do you plan on telling him?”
You laughed at his rambling, but hummed when you thought about his question. “Uh, would today be a bad time?”
“The sooner the better.”
You sighed in relief. Then, you donned the loveliest tone you could muster, and asked sweetly, “Will you come with me please? I think your presence will really help.”
Mark retorted, “Should I bring the entire police force too?”
You rolled your eyes and begged, “Come on, Mark. You’re my bestie and I need you. He’s more mad with me than he is with you and plus you have the benefit of a credible father.”
“I was already on my way,” Mark chirped, jiggling his keys loudly before hanging up. 
You giggled. What would you do without that boy? He was your ride or die. 
Fifteen minutes later, Mark was pulling into your driveway and hopping out of the car. You let him in, locking the door behind your best friend and embracing him in the biggest hug of his life. You needed the comfort to wean off your nerves. 
The last thing you expected was for Johnny to come trudging down the stairs within the very next minute. 
You released Mark, turning to your brother, and you and Johnny said in unison, “Hey, I really need to talk to you.”
Johnny blinked in surprise. It almost seemed like he was mirroring you. Mark snickered to himself, mumbling something about you two obviously being related, but Johnny was chill and said, “You can go first.”
You heaved a breath. It was a shock that Johnny deliberately chose to speak to you for the first time, presumably without the intervening influence of your parents’ rebuttal on your behalf. “I don’t know how to say this, but first I wanted to tell you that I’m really sorry for sneaking around with Jaehyun behind your back. It was a really shitty thing for me to do.”
Johnny nodded along, listening. 
“But I fell in love with him,” you said without hesitation. “And I’m not going to ask you to accept us or anything. That’s your choice. But I thought there was something you should know that’s bigger than Jaehyun and I.”
Johnny looked tense, but he encouraged you to go on. “Okay.”
It felt like the whole world was watching you with Johnny’s eyes carefully set on your face, but you didn’t let it stop you from continuing, “It really wasn’t him that gave Mike his supply, and yes we have proof. Mark’s dad not only confirmed it wasn’t him, but they’re working on getting him into custody.”
Mark nodded, standing right behind you. Like he was vouching for you the same way you’d vouched for him all these years. “It’s true, Johnny. It wasn’t Jaehyun. It was some random shady dealer that preys on addicts at these parties. He has a track record.”
Johnny’s eyes flickered. “It really wasn’t Jaehyun?”
Mark shook his head. “He’s innocent, dude.”
Johnny fell silent for a long time. You could see him stiffening, penitent. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. “I feel like shit now.”
You snorted. “Don’t do that to yourself. Please. I’ve felt like shit enough these past few weeks for the both of us.”
“About that,” Johnny began, getting whiplash. The look on his face was gentle, remorseful, and he hated himself for being anything else to his sister. To the last person that deserved his misplaced frustration. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for freezing you out.”
“Johnny…,” you trailed. 
Johnny shook his head. He needed you to let him say this. “I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, and though I haven’t exactly been pleased with you, you’re still my sister. The least I could’ve done was ask you ‘how are you doing?’ but I couldn’t even be bothered.”
You sighed loudly. That was true. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t rub salt in the wounds. 
“I haven’t done a good job at showing it, but I care for you. You’re my only sibling and let’s be honest, I don’t think I’ll be getting another one,” Johnny said lightheartedly. 
You snickered. Damn right. You knew your parents would vehemently agree if they were here. They couldn’t be happier that all of their kids were adults. Well, maybe if you moved out. 
Johnny breathed in some air. A lot of mistakes had obviously been made on both parts and he was ready to put it all behind him. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I forgot to do what was more important. Be your brother. And I’ll apologize for the rest of my life until you forgive me.”
“No need. I forgive you right now,” you whispered, simpering. 
Johnny stood there like a dumbass, hesitant. He didn’t feel like he deserved your forgiveness and would be spending the next weeks repairing his relationship with you, doing whatever it took. 
You took the lead, starting reluctantly, “Listen. I know Mike’s passing has been hard on you, Johnny. That’s why you want to protect me and everything else you love in your life, but I’m an adult. You need to let me take care of me.” 
A cloud of melancholy hung over Johnny and it wouldn’t leave. The grief was still fresh, as if Mike had died yesterday. 
You stepped forward, placing a hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “And you’re my big brother. I’ll obviously still give you a call when I’m going through a rough time. But you have to respect that I’m my own person.”
Johnny nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about all that too. I’ll be better.”
“I will too,” you said, because the truth was that it was time the two of you started making efforts. 
Johnny grabbed you in his arms and pulled you into a gigantic bear hug. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close, and breathed easier in relief as weeks worth of wounds vanished. 
Wincing your eyes closed, you let yourself be content in your brother’s loving embrace for the first time in a while. You needed this. 
You could barely feel yourself breathe when Johnny started to hug you so tightly you thought he might accidentally squeeze the life out of you. “Alright, chill, Johnny. I think I might die,” you wheezed.
Johnny released you with a chuckle. You gasped for breath, shaking your head. Though the bone-crushing hug was appreciated nonetheless. 
Mark was content to be in the background and cheered in awe, “I’m so proud of you guys. You overcame your differences and reunited like real siblings. I knew it would happen eventually, but dude, this is refreshing to see.”
You nodded in agreement. One less broken relationship. But you had another one to salvage before it was too late. 
Then, Mark remembered Johnny was none too thrilled that he was complicit in you getting away with your sneaky little secret and asked, “Yo, Johnny, are we good?”
“No.”
Mark gawked. 
“I’m kidding,” Johnny said with a teasing lilt. “We’re good, man.”
Mark exhaled in relief. “Thank god.”
You smiled to yourself. You were happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from your life. 
Johnny clamped a hand onto your shoulder and said, “Go get him.”
You gasped, but you didn’t question how he knew. He just did. It was a sibling thing. “You mean it?”
“Yes. You said it yourself. You love him, and I have no reason to come between that anymore. You deserve to be happy after dating asshole after asshole,” Johnny told you (sort of) kindly. 
You snickered, and grabbed your keys from your pockets. “Pray for me. He’s not gonna be thrilled.”
Johnny shook his head, disagreeing. “Yeah, he will. Tell him that I’m very sorry, but the threat to kick his ass still stands if he fucks with you.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know,” you deadpanned, heading for the door. 
The drive to Jaehyun’s house was inexplicably anxious. You could still think, but every thought went by at the speed of a thousand miles per second. And it didn’t help that you were overthinking the entire situation, dreading the endless amount of “what ifs.”
For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know if he would be there. You were showing up unannounced, uninvited. What if he had already found another woman to keep him company in your forgettable absence?
Then, you were at his front doorstep. And you had no time to vividly imagine every possible scenario, because Jungkook answered your knocks and you could only barely see inside. 
You politely greeted him in a small voice and asked, “Can I come inside?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed and he didn’t waste any time in snapping, “Why should I let you in after you broke my friend’s heart?”
“Because I’m sorry and I want to set things right with him,” you said, matching his lack of hesitation. 
Yugyeom hurried over and took the lead, widening the door for you to enter and whining dramatically, “Oh, god. Please come in. Fix him. Do your womanly magic and bring him back to life. I’m sick of his brooding ass.”
You wanted to laugh, but you hated the thought of causing Jaehyun all this suffering. If it was anything like the kind you’d been through lately, you knew he was in a tough spot. 
Thanking Yugyeom, you made a beeline for the stairs, rushing up them like Jaehyun would somehow know it was you approaching them and slip away before you could get the chance to apologize. 
You knocked on Jaehyun’s door, but you guessed he really wasn’t expecting you to come over, because he shouted exasperatedly, “Jesus, Yugyeom. Fuck off.”
“It’s not Yugyeom,” you called back. “It’s me.”
All you could hear was silence. Then there was a shuffle, and a few moments later the door clicked unlocked and Jaehyun was standing before you in all his glory. “What are you doing here?”
“I walked to talk,” you replied timidly, struggling to maintain eye contact. 
Irritated, Jaehyun huffed, “We already had a conversation.” Though the truth was that he was glad you were here, standing in front of him again. He was borderline miserable without you in his life. 
The reminder of your final exchange with Jaehyun made you wince in shame. “I know, but I wanted to apologize. Won’t you at least hear me out?”
Jaehyun turned to return to his bed, reminding sharply, “You’re the one that walked away. I was willing to at least try to make us work, but you didn’t even want to do that.”
“Because I thought it would be useless,” you admitted, giving chase and shutting the door behind yourself. “But I don’t anymore. You were right. I should’ve fought for us and I regret not doing it earlier.”
Jaehyun might’ve acted like he wasn’t listening, being totally dismissive, but he definitely noticed your specific use of language. “You said ‘earlier.’ What do you mean?”
You had a beaming smile on your face as you admitted, “I mean, I talked to Johnny about us. I managed to get him to listen to me and proved your innocence. Thank god Mark’s father is a cop.”
Jaehyun softened. “You did all that? Why?”
“Because you’re worth fighting for,” you whispered tenderly, looking at Jaehyun like he was your entire universe. 
Jaehyun was so close to accepting that he would never have anyone look at him that way again. After a heartbreak, the feeling of being unlovable always loomed over his head and you were no different. But dammit if he wasn’t tired of the doubts. 
Tentatively, you came towards Jaehyun completely, sitting beside him on his mattress that you missed almost as much as you missed him. “I didn’t mean it, when I said I wish I never met you.”
Jaehyun almost laughed. That was the least hurtful thing to leave your lips. “I know. You were upset. And you had every right to be.”
You frowned, suspicious of how calm he was. You half expected him to lash out. “Stop being understanding.” 
“If you’re expecting me to be angry, I can’t do anything for you. I’ve already spent the past few weeks in that stage of grief.”
You blinked. It was as if he could read your mind. “Where are you at now?”
Jaehyun was totally indifferent when he told you, “Bargaining.”
“Funny. Me too,” you sighed. If only you had been more open-minded, you could have spared you and Jaehyun all this worthless misery. 
You noticed that Jaehyun said nothing, but he looked a little in his head. And he was somewhere up there, scolding himself for letting him be a fool for you, then thinking, I couldn’t resist loving you. Sue me. 
The emotion was finally surfacing on his face. You could see all of it now. The distress and the love and the heartache. You smirked, thinking to yourself, He’s my little damsel now. 
The grin on your lips was fleeting and it disappeared by the time you grabbed Jaehyun’s hands in yours and he peered down at you in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you told him softly. “I thought you were crazy and hopeless for thinking we could be together. Now, I see that you didn’t want to quit until you’d exhausted your resources. And I forced your hand. I’m sorry.”
Jaehyun squeezed your hand. “It’s okay. I understand where you were coming from. You were trying to make things as painless as possible because you genuinely thought we didn’t stand a chance against fate.”
“And somehow I made shit ten times more painful,” you murmured, ashamed. 
“Like I said, I understand where you were coming from,” Jaehyun said, being gentler than he should’ve. 
You shook your head. That meant nothing. “But do you forgive me?”
Jaehyun gazed into your pained eyes. It still broke him, but he was starting to lick the wound clean. Things were changing. “Yes. I forgive you, baby.”
Your heart softened at the pet name. You never expected to fall for Jaehyun. Not Jaehyun or his precious smile and adorable face. Not the little things he’d say that made you feel as if you would burst with love. 
But you did fall for him, and all those little things that made him himself. And you didn’t want to be without them ever again. 
“I’m tired of loving each other behind closed doors. I want to be seen with you. I want to go to museums and look at really abstract paintings that you’ll tell me are meaningful for whatever reason. I want to explore the city with you and visit shops I’d never think to go to otherwise.”
Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile. “You said you love me.”
“I haven’t said it before?”
Jaehyun huffed, “No. Not even once.”
You held his face, cradling it just shy of yours, and confessed, “Then, I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Jaehyun. I don’t know what to do without you.”
“I love you too,” Jaehyun said, leaning in to mumble the tiny confession into your neck, and reminded of how desperately he craved the warmth of your skin. 
You were grinning so hard your cheeks were hurting. 
“Don’t leave me ever again. Don’t ever let me go. Never,” Jaehyun instructed you sharply, and although it was partly muffled, you heard him loud and clear.
“I won’t,” you told him, kissing his forehead. “If you play me that song you made me on your guitar.”
Jaehyun blinked up at you in surprise. “You liked it?”
“I think I’ve cried to it, like, a million times,” you admitted unabashedly. 
Jaehyun’s jaw went slack for only a split second, then he quickly recovered and leapt up to grab his guitar from its resting position in the corner of his room. 
A smile danced onto your lips as he held the guitar, strumming to the beautiful song he’d written with only his insurmountable adoration for you in mind, and the pining nature of the lyrics made you realize that the yearning was over. You were Jaehyun’s. And Jaehyun was yours. 
Losing Jaehyun, one of the few people you loved depthlessly, was like losing the last person you had. You didn’t know how to be without him. And you didn’t have to learn, because you never would be without him again. 
You watched him attentively, beaming from ear to ear, taking in his beautiful smile and soft voice, and familiar heady cologne. And you thought to yourself, There’s nothing to dislike about this guy. 
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notherpuppet · 2 months
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I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.
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To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”
Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)
Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.
And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.
TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.
And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT
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goggles-mcgee · 4 months
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Phantom Fudge
I love the fics of Danny settling into Gotham and having some sort of business and just absolutely confusing the Batfam with how flippant he is about the crime.
My take is, instead of a coffee shop or bookstore or occult shop, Danny opens a fudge shop!
His parents taught him, and he found he actually really loved it, and besides, his dream of being an astronaut was out of reach due to his unique medical readings. In this au, his parents learned about him being Phantom and took it well after a good period of spiraling because-Holy shit they shot their son. You may be asking, Goggles, didn't you just make a post that was all about Jack and Maddie not taking the news well? Yes. Yes, I did.
I go back and forth with wanting to salt them and not. I like both.
So anyways, Danny is the heir to the Ghost Throne, but he won't actually take up the official title until his time on Earth is naturally over. After everything got better with his parents and his regular ghost fighting buddies, he actually was able to raise his grades and graduate. Many teachers were amazed at the progress but really, Danny may not have been as smart as his parents and sister (he is an unreliable narrator and is actually very smart just not as conventional as his family) but before his accident he had done pretty good in school. The GIW was still a thing, but without the Fenton technology, they weren't doing as well as they previously did. His parents broke their contract after they rescued him from the GIW labs, it was a little after he told his parents about his halfa status and they came storming in to save him and all the other ghosts that were captured. After that, life got so much better. His parents listened to him, and he got to teach them all about his people. They started publishing more papers with actually accurate information and were doing their best to overturn the anti-ecto acts. They haven't accomplished it, but Danny was sure they would.
That's actually why he moved to Gotham. Tucker had the idea of contacting the Justice League to help with the anti-ecto laws, but their calls weren't being answered. Neither were the...strongly worded emails Sam sent in. So Danny did what he did best and jumped into something not entirely thought out but hoping for the best. He moved to Gotham so he could get close to Batman and ask for help. He got accepted into Gotham University on a scholarship. But he wanted to make some money on his own without his parents sending him some kind of allowance, and he didn't want to work at Bat Burger. He started selling fudge around winter at his school, and he got permission to do so.
From there, he got enough money to actually open a small fudge cart. Then he got enough for a small shop near his apartment which was rather close to Crim Alley so he hired some working girls to help with the shop and he employed any Alley Kids looking for some cash as delivery workers. (They only delivered in Crime Alley, though, but that was fine with Danny.) Danny loved his little fudge shop that he lovingly named Phantom Fudge, and the sign had a cute little ghost eating some fudge on it. When he was in school for classes, he left the shop in his friend Ginger's hands. She had been a working girl before, but before that, she had had experience working a small mom & pop kind of shop, so Danny felt good leaving her in charge. When Ellie visited, she helped out with the shop too.
Danny was thriving. Then he started getting customers of the ecto variety because, of course, he would. Apparently, he was something of an ecto filter for the shades and ghost of Gotham, so they would visit his shop to soak up some of the pure ectoplasm in the air. Then he experimented and made some ecto-fudge, which is what he gave to any ecto beings that entered his shop. Most couldn't pay, but they would give him a heads up if they saw anything shady happening around his shop.
Like a little heads up that some robberies were happening in the area, or some rogue was getting close. It was a nice little system they had. Though some ghosts came in just to tell him their unfinished business and like...he wasn’t King yet, but these were his people, so he tried to help them out as best they could.
One particular couple showed up a lot and would ask him to help warn their son of any danger they heard was brewing. They would ask him to leave messages for the son or any of his kids but also the butler if needed. Danby thought this guy had some great parents. They didn't cross over because they needed to make sure their son was safe and taken care of. It was most likely that they wouldn't cross until their son did by the sounds of it. He got permission to call them Grandma and Grandpa, which was weird, but he didn't question it.
Martha and Thomas were nice spirits, so he had no problem helping them out. But Danny is Danny and his well-intentioned help of course caught the eye of the whole batfam.
They had been receiving letters in the Manor that appeared mysteriously. The first one they had all thought was a prank from the many people there. It was a simple, 'Don’t go to the gala. Something bad will happen.' That started it all. They were all baffled but laughed it off, and those who went to the gala didn't know how to feel when the seeming wait staff took over the event and held the guests hostage.
A coincidence surely.
Then they got another note, 'Freeze is planning to do a B&E and snatch some equipment from a Wayne lab. Idk which one since you have so many.' And just like last time, the note was speaking the truth. It continued from there, and everyone tried to capture whoever or whatever was leaving the notes, but any cameras they had glitched out before returning to normal and showing a new note had showed uo somewhere in the Manor. Bruce was going crazy trying to figure out who or what their messenger was.
Alfred once found a note that said, 'Tim has been awake and pushing himself too far. He is going to crash.' He took it to heart though and made Tim rest and take a break. He would not let the note happen. Tim had had far too many crashes the past couple of months.
The note that broke Bruce, though, was small in words, but it made him feel crazy. It was his parent's death anniversary, and when he went to visit the exact spot, he saw a sticky note on the floor. He shakily picked it up to see all it said was, 'It's okay.'
Now he is really worked up and determined to find the note messenger.
While that's going on, Danny also gets some local vigilantes visiting his shop, and he is so excited to see them and try and be their friend so he can ask for help. Plus they seem to be fans of his fudge and that just makes him happy.
The batkids thing the Phantom Fudge shop owner is suspicious, but hot damn did he make some bomb ass fudge.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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When Eddie is introduced to Jonathan, they both give each other a look that says “if you say anything, you’re dead” and naturally, Nancy clocks it immediately.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” they said at the same time, only growing the suspicion.
“Seriously? Do you know each other already?”
“No!”
“Yes, but-“
They glare at each other, but Eddie speaks up again.
“He bought from me a couple times. No big deal.”
Nancy looks between them, shakes her head. “There’s something else going on. But we’ve got bigger problems.”
And they did.
For months, their problems seemed to get worse by the day. It was a great distraction.
But honestly, anytime Eddie spent more time with Jonathan, it got harder not to say how they actually knew each other: a make out session in a bathroom at a party when Jonathan was yearning for Nancy.
He told Steve eventually, had to with the way he kept finding ways to avoid being around Jonathan and Steve got suspicious.
“If he said something to you about us, I’ll take care of it. He doesn’t get to say shit about what makes us happy.”
And Eddie couldn’t have Steve lose another fight, so he told him.
“So wait. You and Jonathan…”
“Made out. Yes.”
“Like…with tongue?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember tongue being involved.”
“And hands?”
“They were there too.”
Steve puts his hands on his hips, lifts one to wipe over his face, then settles it back on his hip. “And you liked it?”
“Considering at the time my options were Jonathan or the girl in Hellfire who insisted I wasn’t gay because I looked at her during campaigns, yeah. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve been through.”
Steve huffed. “Yeah, but like. Compared to me-“
“Oh my god.”
“What?!”
“I cannot believe you’re jealous of Jonathan Byers. Again.”
“I’m not! I’ve never-“
Eddie raised his brows. “Never? Not once?”
“That was different!”
“That was worse.”
“I dunno, finding out your boyfriend has made out with the only other guy in Hawkins who’d be up for it is arguably worse.”
Steve pouted for hours. Eddie let him.
It was cute, alright?
And when he got over it, they made out for hours in his bed.
Steve, of course, was the one who told Nancy.
In his defense, he was very high, and Nancy had been pushing him all night, from the moment she caught wind that he might know how they knew each other.
Eddie went inside to grab them all water, and she pounced.
By the time Eddie got back, Steve was half asleep and Nancy was smirking at Eddie.
“You could’ve just said.”
“He’s never getting high for free again.”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s back to being a paying customer, too.”
Nancy laughed, startling Steve into opening his eyes. He smiled up at Eddie, no clue he’d just given up one of their secrets.
“Hi, baby. You know Nancy didn’t know about you and Jonathan?”
Eddie glanced over to see Nancy rolling on her side, laughing hysterically.
“Yeah. I’m sure that was on purpose. How about we get you to bed, superstar?”
He managed to get Steve onto the couch, where he immediately passed out.
Nancy hugged him, kissed his cheek, like she always did before leaving.
“It’s not a big deal, you know. He’s mentioned that he isn’t only into women. We’ve talked a lot about the Argyle situation.” She walked towards the door. “Steve will get over the jealousy eventually. It’s not like Jonathan wouldn’t have made out with him if he could have.”
She left before Eddie could respond.
Eddie suddenly understood exactly what Steve was feeling.
“Not gonna happen,” he mumbled to himself before joining Steve on the couch and pulling him close.
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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CRUSH ♡
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… based loosely on the song crush by ethel cain ⊹˚. ♡
pairing: linecook!jj maybank + sweetheart!reader
synopsis: you’re head over heels for your bad-boy coworker, jj— the linecook for the outerbanks beachside restaurant you waitress at. a customer spilling coffee over your uniform catalysts a chain of events.
cw: a gun but no violence, shitty customers, jj being jj, smut.
You didn’t really know about restaurant employee culture until you started your job as a waitress. Stereotypes, things that fate would just simply decide to come true in every single restaurant no matter what. Waitresses were either the sweetest people you’d ever met or the bitchiest, managers had favourites and if you weren’t one of them they treat you like shit, the kid who gets stuck on dishwasher duty was always younger than everyone and fell in love with all the waitresses— uber specific and odd stuff. Oh, and that linecooks were troubled, or whores.
JJ Maybank was more troubled than the latter. Well, you’d hoped so anyways. You’d had a crush on the blonde linecook from your very first day, a quieter morning at the beginning of spring when the beachside restaurant was criminally understaffed. Your manager had appointed him to show you around before either of you had even made it inside, the tough older woman calling him out as he arrived to work, climbing off his bike, chewing on a toothpick with headphones over his ears. Your heart had fluttered when he bantered with the older woman, pointing to the music-playing-muffs over his ears, mouthing an ‘I can’t hear you, sorry’ when she’d approached him.
You’d felt embarrassed almost, like you were taking up his time. He was clearly comfortable here, had a good relationship with everybody— even the manager who seemed to hate the world tenfold. She’d yanked off his headphones and jut her thumb towards you as he stared her down with a mischievous grin.
“Maybank, I need you to show around the newbie— uh, what’s your name again sweetheart?” She spins to you, and for the first time JJ’s eyes flicker towards you, brows jumping up just a hair, a micro-expression that only you could hold onto for hope. Hope that he might be a little interested. You speak your name, and he’s swerving around the manager in his white tshirt, apron tied lazily around his waist, hung down, not even wearing it over his shirt like he’s meant to, black backwards cap over blonde messy hair.
“Well it is very nice to meet you ma’am.” He juts out a hand with a stupidly large grin that makes you feel even more shy.
You remember that day so clearly, the blonde showing you the ropes, practically training you whilst your manager chain smoked out the back. You remembered how you hadn’t had a proper school-girl style crush like this since forever, and one day into working at the restaurant you were already head over heels for the loud and hyperactive Pogue.
A few months down the line, and your bond had blossomed. Well, somewhat — it was a busy restaurant, lots of waitresses and cooks and customers. There wasn’t always time for chit-chat and flirting. Which sometimes you were grateful for, plates clanking awkwardly in your hands as you spot a more confident waitress trying her luck with him, hair twirled around a long finger. You were delusional enough to believe JJ seemed politely disinterested at the least, choosing to busy himself with ruffling the top of your head with his knuckles as you pass by him, hiding your smile at his acknowledgment.
You wouldn’t say the two of you were friends. You’d hoped not anyway, dreading being stuck in the friendzone with the guy you’d spent months pining after. You couldn’t be friends because you’d never hung out with him outside of work, not that you’d deny him but he’d never asked. You’d seen him around, don’t get it twisted — that group of friends of his; the brunette one who always seemed to be the talk of the town, the darker skinned boy who seemed too smart to be slumming it on a boat smoking weed, and a girl — who laughed at all of JJ’s jokes and threw glares to anyone she deemed too ‘Kook-y’. That was some serious intel, but you swear up and down you weren’t a stalker— just paying attention when you’d see him outside of the workplace.
JJ made it clear you were his favourite waitress. Well, he’d said it himself, holding a plate just out of your reach when you’d come to collect an order, playful smirk on his face as he stares down at you. “Can I have my order?” you pretend to hate it, hiding your smile as you huff, reaching out.
“I dunno, I could almost swear there’s a magic word that you’re missing there, girlie. Y’wanna help me out with that? Orrrr…” He tilts his head, playing dumb and you let the smile free— cheeks pushing up as you gaze at his stupid expression.
“Please, JJ.” You offer sweetly instead of sassing him, which makes his heart clench a little because you were just an absolute sweetheart by nature. He lowers the plate, hovering it above your palm and giving you a more serious look.
“Plates hot, alright? Better be careful with those delicate mittens.” You roll your eyes bashfully and he presses it into your palm. The plate was warm at best, it seeming that JJ would say anything just to keep the conversation going longer than it needed to.
“Thank you.” You smile once it was in your hand and he nods, faux solemnly as he backs off back to his work station, ignoring the knowing stare from his partner linecook.
“So polite, s’why you’re my favourite, princess.” He points with a wink and you turn away before he can see how flustered it made you. Princess, are you kidding me? It’s like he wanted to make you drop the plate. He watches the door swing as you head back out into the bustling restaurant, and jumps a little in surprise when he turns back to come face to face with another linecooks smirk.
“Playin’ favourites, huh Maybank?”
The blonde itches his cheek, bashful with a shrug— going back to chopping a carrot like he was before.
“Yeah well— doesn’t everyone do that here?” He tries to brush it off, head swivelling to glance back at the door, just incase you overheard.
“Yeah… yeah, chose a pretty one though, I’ll give you that. Lemme know when you’re done with it, I wanna play.” He speaks with a stomach-turning smile, and certainly doesn’t miss the way JJ’s jaw clenches, knife nearly going not only through the carrot but the chopping board too. Dont cause a scene now, Jayj.
JJ was troubled, like you’d said. You’d heard whispers from waitresses or friends of a friend outside of work — things about his father always being in jail, the blonde himself ending up in overnight cells a series of times. You’d heard about fights, his name always ringing close to the scene, even car chases and rumours about his run ins with big time criminals— but you wasn’t sure how verifiable any of these were.
It didn’t seem totally far fetched though, the Pogue occasionally showing up to his shift with his head down, a new bruise splattered on his cheek bone or a gnarly gash. He had one the day things changed, a cut through his lip, gone almost black from blood constantly drying after he’d assumably lick it open. From a glance, it almost looked like a lip-ring, and he sported it well with a large greenish yellow bruise beside his eye over his temple. You wish you felt close enough to ask where they came from, but knew that would be prying. You didn’t even wanna listen in when you’d see the manager nod him into her office to give him ‘the talk’ and ask about it presumably, which you’d also guessed she’d gained no information from as he’d leave her office looking casual whilst she still wore that slightly frustrated and worried look on her face.
Everyone seemed to be in a weird mood that day, even the customers. It wasn’t really his fault, the man somehow backing into you abruptly enough for you to spill an old container of coffee all down yourself. Well, to rephrase — it was an accident, which was actually the best case scenario considering you’d had drinks poured down you on purpose for making them wrong before.
You get that awful coil of embarrassment in your stomach when you walk into the kitchen, beige staining right through your usual pristine uniform and falling in droplets off the ends of your hair. JJ sees the pout before the stains, and it comes as no surprise to the other linecooks when he rushes over like prince charming.
“You good? Someone do that to you?” He’s already trying to bound past you to go and ‘handle the situation’ (AKA, kick them out) but you shake your head— not really upset just tired, and now cold thanks to the old coffee soaking through to your skin.
“It was an accident. I don’t have anything to change into so I don’t know if I should just… go home, or something.” You hold your hands out in frustration, looking down at yourself.
“Oh, nah— don’t sweat it. Got a spare shirt in my locker you can wear. S’just a white t-shirt, should do the trick.” He steps backwards.
“But it’s not uniform?” You furrow your brows and he huffs out a chuckle at you always being such a stickler for following the rules. “Our manager will have my head, surely.”
“Think she’d rather that than you walkin’ round smellin’ like cold brew.” He fishes through his pockets and tosses you a small key with a red triangle keychain on the end, the key to his locker in the staff cloakroom. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks Jayj.” You smile, excusing yourself shyly at the use of the nickname you’ve heard others use on him but always chickened out on. He noticed, because he shows all his teeth when he smiles and nods, turning back around.
The cloakroom always smells weird— like mulch and rubber, a cold and windowless room with a bench and a wall of seafoam lockers. You flip the key in your hand, spotting the number on the back and match it to the lockers. Wearing JJ’s shirt, huh — you smile to yourself, feeling giddy and stupid at the butterflies that brush their wings against the inside of your stomach. He was just doing you a favour, sure — but you got to prance around wearing him all day, and that was enough to fuel your delusion. You off your stained shirt, leaving you in just a small and flimsy tank top that you usually wear beneath it incase of accidents like this.
You open the locker, and something black immediately drops out onto the floor, echoing loudly and bouncing once a tiny bit by your feet. The weird clinical lighting of the cloakroom casts a dark shadow below where your head searches down for it, so you move slightly— brows furrowing when you see the shape of it.
Your brain clearly hasn’t processed or caught up with just quite what you’re looking at as you bend down, lips parted as you pick the item up in your hand, standing back to full height once more. In your hand, you stared directly at a gun. A pistol, to be precise. You seem to be in shock, the weapon glued to your hand despite anyone being able to walk in and get you fired and or reported to the police within a matter of seconds. You turn the weapon in your hand in fascination, whispering a “What the…” to yourself.
JJ leans against the doorway with a forearm, just now remembering what resided in that very locker other than the shirt he so generously offered. He’s distracted for a moment by your skin, the skin on the back of your arms and your back as you stand with your uniform shirt bunched in your hand, until of course he spots what’s held in your other hand and physically winces.
“Shit, uh—” JJ vocalises and your head snaps around, sighing in relief once you see that it’s just him. You’re back to marvelling in shock at the item in an instant, ogling between him and the weapon. “So, that’s — that’s not what it looks like—”
“A gun?” You whisper the second word, looking up at him with wide eyes and he points the pistol downwards with his finger when you hold it accidentally facing him.
“Well, okay I mean yes — it’s a gun, but I had no choice. Had to momentarily keep it here, alright? I took it in for a friend and —”
“What are you, some kind of hitman?” You shake your head, earrings jangling a little with your stressed little gesture which would usually warm his heart if he wasn’t focused on deescalating.
“Okay, first of all— why don’t I take this from you missy,” He eases the gun out of your hands and accidentally fumbles it inside his locker, the weapon clattering against the echoey walls making him let out a quiet ‘whoops’ before placing a black gym bag on top of it. He turns to you. “Secondly, no okay I’m not a hitman— I haven’t ever shot a person with this thing.”
“Then… why do you have it?” You furrow your brows, seeming to have calmed down a little, which was relieving despite your reaction being totally valid.
“W—you know, gotta stay strapped. Protect my people.” He shrugs, attempting nonchalance and your eye twitches, realising how different the two of you are. JJ, bad boy with a gun in his locker— and you, straight arrow waitress. “Look all m’saying is if you told me someone was messing with you… I wouldn’t hesitate.”
You stare at him dumbfounded, wondering what on Earth he was going through to lead him to owning a gun, but you daren’t ask— even now. You eye him, brows knitting cutely.
“And you’re sure you’re not some serial killer?” You ask, folding your arms. Mostly joking. Mostly.
“Yeah nah I couldn’t do the whole choppin’ up dead bodies thing, m’pretty squeamish n’I got this thing with my gag reflex where y’know, I — I just—” He gestures to his throat, head bobbing with a preemptive gag but sees the way you’re staring at him like he’d just stepped off a space ship from Mars and decides against the bit, clearing his throat and glancing into his locker. “Enough of that uh— why don’t I go ahead and grab you that shirt you were after…” He reaches inside his locker, pulling out balled up white shirt, quickly turning it back from being inside out.
“There y’go…” He murmurs as he does so to no one in particular before shoving his arms inside and pulling the head hole wider before stuffing you inside it, tugging it until your head pops out, still staring at him a little dumbfounded. “Peekaboo.” He smiles nervously before leaving you to shove your own arm holes through, pulling it down over your tank top. He awkwardly watches before you hand him back his key and he locks his locker once more, glancing around at you.
“So about the—”
“Your secrets safe with me JJ. Thanks for the shirt.”
You swan around in the white fabric like it’s a ball gown for the rest of the day. Delusional didn’t feel like the right word, no— he gave you the shirt, which in your head is flirting— handing you the opportunity to daydream about being his girlfriend and wearing his clothes all the time. Each time you moved you could smell him on you, that faint smell of cigarettes and just him — reminding you of the times you’ve caught him on a rough shift fumbling for a pack of Marlboro Red’s and heading out the back door to be angsty for a while before returning with a plastered on smile. You bite your lip, staring into space as you rub the material between your fingers, waiting for a table to flag you down, excited for the next time you could go into the kitchen and see him… have him see you, wearing his shirt only hoping it hot-wires his brain with some sort of romantic association. Oh, JJ Maybank. He just made you so… so…
“Ugh, mmph JJ!” You cry out, later that night. Guilty, you ended up in nothing but the t-shirt and two fingers stuffed into your weeping cunt. You felt kind of perverse, despite the million promises to yourself to wash the shirt immediately after to return to him— but also there was just something painfully arousing about touching yourself wearing it— every layer beneath it removed to have your hardened nipples peak beneath the thin white fabric, tousled and jostled up where your ribcage was as you grind your digits inside of you.
You were home alone, like usual — which gave you the perfect opportunity to moan his name. Too horny to care about the 0.05% chance he’s strolling in your area and walking past the window, hearing. Even the idea of that aroused you further in the moment, wondering just what he’d think if he knew the sweet and harmless waitress was defiling her cunt in his name, in his shirt. You think about best case scenario, the blonde with his rough hand around his cock— and you knew it was rough from the way it felt when he’d touch your arm or brush against your fingers when handing you a dish. Rough from working on his bike and handling hot food and other Maybank shenanigans that still lead him to fist at his dick in his room at night thinking of you, you and only you.
You cum in your palm and feel disgraced. Poor JJ. You’re a total pervert and you must wash that shirt.
Except you don’t, and you fall asleep— returning to work in your spare uniform the next day. Empty handed. JJ doesn’t notice, hell — he doesn’t care. He’s stacked up with so many orders you almost feel bad even though it’s not your fault. Maybe you’re still riding off the guilt of masturbating in his shirt. There’s a sick sense of pride that twists in your gut when you look at him though. Boyish, sometimes thoughtless blonde with no idea that you came so hard moaning his name just a matter of hours before facing him again. You catch him in a quieter moment, leaning over to his station with a stressed expression to tell him that you forgot to bring his shirt back, to which he just responds with a shrug and a careless wave that read as ‘It’s cool.’ That was the JJ you knew. Cool, calm, didn’t give a shit. You got butterflies at the minute gesture. God, get a grip.
The next time it comes up, it’s because he brings it up. Catching you on your break, a cheekful of pasta he’d made for you to quickly cram down before your manager gets onto you for slacking off— JJ approaches your little table outside, blonde hair feathery and light in the sun. “Howdy there, shirt thief.” He grins lightheartedly, pulling out the other chair on the small circle table you sat at and straddling it backwards, leaning his arms on the backrest.
You nearly choke on your pasta at the speed you go to explain yourself— way to not make yourself seem guilty. “It’s in the washing machine, I literally just kept forgetting I’m sorry JJ.” You look all sweet and worried in the way that makes him wanna pinch your cheeks, so he fiddles with his lighter instead, flicking it on and off in his grasp.
“Nah you’re good.” He chuckles, staring out at the water the restaurant overlooked. It was a windier day, and even from where you sat you could hear the loud roaring of distant waves. “Hey uh— you want a ride home on the old bike? I can come in and grab it if like— if that’s cool.” He suggests, almost seeming a bit hesitant, nervous even.
“Oh! Yeah, I mean I’d have to stick it in the dryer first but you’re free to hang out whilst it dries… unless you really gotta go then, you can have your shirt back damp, I guess.” You mirror the nervous energy tenfold, practically stumbling over yourself to not sound as eager as you were. JJ, in your house.
“Yeah, sweet. Cool cool cool cool.” He bops his head, drumming on the table before suddenly his name was called from inside.
“Maybank! These fish aren’t gonna fry themselves, you know that right?” The tough, unmistakable chain smoker voice of your manager rings through the air and JJ winces theatrically for your entertainment, making you giggle the same way a child might after a party clown does something stupid. It was kind of pathetic, but atleast JJ found it endearing.
You weren’t lying about the shirt, thankfully. Honest — the JJ smell was gone so you’d tossed it in the washing machine before you’d head out onto your shift, planning on finally (reluctantly) returning it the next day.
He pushes himself up to leave, before pausing and leaning over the table towards you. You freeze, and he brings his thumb to your cheek — swiping away a speck of sauce from the pasta that has splattered into your skin from how greedily you wolfed down his food. “Lemme just… get that for you.” He mutters as he does so, turning his thumb around to show you the sauce stain that had transferred to his skin and ease your confusion.
If that wasn’t bad enough, he holds your gaze as he leans back, bringing his thumb to his mouth, cleaning off the sauce. Oh, you sick bastard. He doesn’t even try and hide his smirk— and you stare dumbly at the space he stood even after he’s long gone.
The shift dragged on, tip tapping your feet whenever you stood still for too long, excited bubbles in your stomach fizzing up like shaken pop everytime you thought about the linecook. It felt like hours longer than usual, but finally — the end of your shift came. JJ’s had ended twenty minutes earlier, being replaced by another chef whose plates were always too hot and spoke too loud, making the last stretch of your working hour even tougher. You thought JJ might have forgotten about your little arrangement, just taking off to head home or to go and smoke on the rickety little boat you’d seen him on— but lo and behold, you step out the doors to that wretched place and there he is, leaning on his bike like something out of an 80s movie.
“No helmet?” You’re grinning by the time you reach him, barely containing your excitement. You don’t think you’ve even been on the back of one of these bikes before, let alone with the boy you’re crushing on. JJ scrunches his nose, wincing.
“Wasn’t countin’ on having anyone else on board today, that’s my bad.” He helps you climb on, ensuring you’re sat securely. “I’m a good driver, you’ll be alright. Just uh— hold on tight and I’ll avoid any big potholes, yeah?” He reaches back, taking your arms and wrapping them around his middle, forcing you against his warm back. He’d probably done that for plenty of people, the way it came naturally to him— but in that moment you didn’t care, just nodding as you leant more against him. You tell him your address, and he recognises it, someone he knows living near by. With that, the two of you are off.
You’re truly in bliss, closing your eyes with your cheek pressed to his back, wind whipping past your face. He is a good driver, and you dare even let yourself believe he’s being extra careful with you on board, none of the harsh turns or skids you’ve seen him do on the streets alone. Your cheeks start to ache with how much you’re smiling.
“You all good back there my lil’ backpack?” He pats your leg in a friendly manner at a stop light and you giggle, embarrassed with how fast goosebumps break out.
“Yeah, this is fun!” You yell at an unnecessary volume to be heard over the running engine, making him chuckle and glance round at you.
“Good, that’s good.”
You’re almost sad when the ride is over, his wheels coming to a slow as he parks up haphazardly beside your front lawn. You’re quick to pat your head down, knowing that journey must have you looking dishevelled at best and hop off the bike, patting the pocket of your shorts for your keys.
“My humble abode awaits.” You chirp, cringing afterwards but he smirks and follows you regardless, pulling up his pants boyishly as he stalks behind you up to your front door. Inside your head is a chant, one that consists of hoping and praying your parents wouldn’t be home so you didn’t have to do the whole awkward explanation thing, not that you didn’t have a totally valid excuse — and you were grown, so interacting with boys shouldn’t be the awkward dilemma that it was — but to them you were still their sweet girl regardless of age, and you’d like to keep it that way, which wouldn’t be possible being spotted ushering Pogue King JJ Maybank into your bedroom.
You unlock the door, calling out a ‘hello’ to be met with miraculous silence. JJ shuffles in behind you, closing the door for you and whistling quietly. “This place is pretty fancy, yeah… bet you got like, an electric toothbrush n’shit.” He comments, neck craning to look around as he follows you slowly through the house.
You huff a laugh out your nose, cheeks pressing upwards as you stroll through toward the kitchen. “An electric toothbrush?” You question.
“Yeaaah man, kook shit.” He peers nosily at the calendar, eyeing the events your family have coming up.
You spot a note pinned to the fridge and head towards it, shaking your head. “If I was a kook I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant getting coffee poured down me. Are electric toothbrushes the pinnacle of wealth in your eyes?” You laugh quietly, pulling the note off the fridge.
“Dude in eighth grade I lost my toothbrush and for a year all I had was my finger, some toothpaste and a dream.” He chats, appearing directly behind you and plucking the note from your hand. “Out ‘til late, pizza in fridge.” He reads blankly out loud and you take it back from him, tossing it aside.
“How’d you lose a toothbrush?” You chuckle, leading him out the kitchen.
“I be in situations.” He shrugs, following you to the short flight of stairs. To his core, JJ was truly just a guy— and took very little pride in watching you climb a few steps before he joined you so that he could check out your ass.
“Bet your dentist loved you.” You comment, glancing behind you at him making his eyes snap upwards guilty. He scoffs, wiping his hands on his pants like he was worried about dirtying up your house before grasping onto the bannister, skipping a few steps to hop up.
“Yeah, like I could afford one of those.”
On the landing, you point him towards the hallway, stepping back once you realised you were practically standing on top of him. He didn’t seem to notice, or mind, staring down at you for direction. “My rooms the last door on the right. I’m gonna go toss your shirt in the dryer, ‘kay?”
He nods once, strolling in the direction you pointed him. “Yes ma’am.”
You head to the laundry room and take a moment to collect yourself, sniffing his shirt to make sure it was properly clean before stuffing it into the dryer to turn it on. You lean against its circular door as it starts up, taking a breath before realising you left JJ Maybank alone in your bedroom.
You arrive at the door to your girly haven, immediately yanking a pair of panties off the ground and throwing them into a corner as you spot the blonde by the window, curiously looking around.
“So this is where the magic happens, I assume.” He glances at you, swiping his hat off his head and placing it on your dresser. Something about his gaze and the way it continually flickered to you, waiting for an answer suggested it was a genuine question. He was asking if you were seeing anyone, perhaps. You giggle.
“And if by magic you mean napping after work and reading books, yeah. It gets so magical in here, you wouldn’t believe it.” You sit on your bed, watching him semi-awkwardly pace infront of you, running hands through his hair before stuffing them into his pockets.
“Ah yeah, ha— forgot you were a real good girl. Should stay that way, I like it— and I mean like, there’s hella weirdos round here. Y’know? Better to… steer clear.” He rambles as you watch him with a smile. At work, the blonde seemed more calm, in his element— but here, in your terrain— he seemed slightly more on edge. You tried not to read into it.
Your stomach warms at the ‘good girl’ comment, lashes fluttering only a little before he’s distracted once more. You see him gazing ahead at the shelf above your vanity, opposite the bed where all your baby photos were lined up. His smile grows, and you see the cogs turn in his head.
He strides towards it in an instant, taking the framed image off the shelf. You jump up, following him to try and save yourself the embarrassment of whatever he was looking at but it was too late. He grins, turning his head to look down at you. “Oh wow, now don’t tell me this is you?” He holds the photo up beside your head, glancing theatrically between the two to compare and you bat him away.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re nosy?”
“Oh yeah, all the time. That, that is adorable though.” He’s immediately distracted by another photo, setting the one in his hand down to pick it up. “And who’s this?” He lifts the picture of your mother holding you as a baby.
“My mother.”
“Total fox. As expected.”
“Okay, no more for you.” You hide your amusement well, reaching out for the photo and grabbing it. He puts up little fight, letting you snatch the frame from his larger hand as he reaches for another, making a total mess of your embarrassing nostalgia display. This last picture is of you, around 5 years old— adorned in a pink princess dress and a plastic tiara, grinning at the camera.
“Aw.” He smirks, turning his body to face you. “Guess some things never change. Still a pretty princess.” You’re not sure if he’s mocking you now, because he’s tonguing at the cut on his lip which makes you gain a second heartbeat in your panties and you freeze up— which in itself is more embarrassing that this whole ordeal. He was a tease by nature he’ll admit, but this — this was fun. Seeing you get flustered was his new favourite thing.
You give him the exact reaction he’s after, failing to hide your smile as you lurch for the frame. He hides it behind his back and you stumble into him, stabilising yourself with both hands on his chest. He’s all… warm, and firm.
There’s a silence, but things are never quiet for too long with JJ. Thankfully.
“Damn, if you wanted to touch me up you could’a just asked. Pro’lly would’a said yes.” The smirk is yet to fade, infact you think it’s permanently stamped onto his mouth and your eyes widen just a smidge— scrambling for a witty comeback that didn’t make you look like a perverse idiot.
“I dunno, after you made fun of my baby pictures? Think I owe you two black eyes.” You tilt your head sweetly, proud of the response and his eyes flicker over your expression, eyes softening just a tad. Or maybe you imagined it.
“‘Think that’s a little extreme. How ‘bout a kiss instead?” You freeze, because it’s then you realise how close the two of you are still. Hes practically got you caged against your vanity, can probably hear how fast he’s got your heart beating— maybe smell the pathetic dribble of arousal seeping into your underwear just from being this close to him. You can’t tell if he’s kidding, and it seems he even caught himself a little off guard, blinking a few times during your stunned silence.
But then you look at his mouth, because asking a question like that is totally giving you permission to do so, and he takes that as an answer and leans in.
You’re so hypnotised when his mouth starts moving against yours that you nearly jump out of your skin when his large hands bracket your waist, pulling your body more flush against his. JJ was a good kisser, which lead you to indeed that he was infact— a whore. Well, maybe a former whore. Whatever, in that moment it didn’t matter— nothing mattered, just JJ and his tongue that was sliding against yours as the kiss heated up.
It feels like hours that your tongues are looping round eachother, snapped out the moment by the hungry blondes hands sliding down, your waist in his grip becomes suddenly your ass cheeks through your shorts, squeezing and pulling you against him practically lifting your entire body. It’s then you realise you having a working voice box, because you let out the most pathetic mewl you’ve ever heard yourself make. Even more pathetic than the noises you made only a few nights ago from your own hand.
He groans back almost as like a response, and with that — finally, he manoeuvres you to start walking backwards towards the very bed you fell apart on at the thought of what you were currently doing, or about to do. Your lips detach when the backs of your knees hit the bed, falling to sit down at the edge of it with a few bounces. He stares down at you for a couple of seconds, disorientated and sore-mouthed like even he can’t believe what’s happening— before he jumps into action. Jittery and clumsily like he always is.
“Should probably uh— if we’re gonna get on the bed I don’t wanna— poke you with somethin’” He stuffs his hands into his pockets, unloading them. His phone, his keys, earphones, cigarettes, wallet, other random knickknacks that would otherwise make you raise an eyebrow if you weren’t already so dazed by him. He’s about to return to you, before his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, as if he just remembered something — and he reaches into the back of his pants, pulling up the shirt that hung over his waistband to there retrieve his gun. He holds it up with a smile that said ‘How silly of me!’
You gape. “JJ, why do you have that?”
He shuffles some things around on your vanity, scrambling to make space for the piece. “Uh, had to bring it home today… lemme just… set that down there.” He places it next to your jewellery stand, the contrast in the items almost making you laugh in disbelief. “The old problem solver.” He mutters, giving it a fond pat before turning back to you, happy to carry on.
“What if my parents were to come home and see that?” You challenge with a pout, not too keen about him bringing a weapon into your house. He huffs out a smirk, leaning back down to where you’re sat, hands on your shoulders as he slowly lays you down.
“Think they’d be a little more concerned about the dirty pogue on top of their little girl, but y’know…” His words get lower and lazier as he draws in before locking his lips onto yours again, this time wasting no time with introducing his tongue.
You’re back in the zone, gun long forgotten within seconds— running your hands through his hair, over his strong arms, touching everywhere you’ve wanted to touch since you started working at the restaurant. Well, not everywhere.
He’s not holding back on being handsy either, body slotted between your legs after he lifts you further up the bed, grappling at your thighs, hips, and eventually tits. You can’t blame him, there’s desperation behind both of your actions — the fact you’d both wanted this for a while now slowly becoming clear. Your heart thumps hard at this realisation, suddenly less able to breathe and you pull back panting, breath trembling.
His eyes flicker over your face, watching your wet mouth as you ramble. “Wanted— mmph— wanted this for a while.”
He drags his lips over your cheek, pressing his hips against yours and you can feel him hardening. It does little to help you calm down. “Yeah, same… Is it… uh, is it weird I kinda didn’t want you to wash the shirt before givin’ it back to me?” He smiles, dropping another toothy peck to your mouth as his hands continue feeling you up.
Your eyes flutter closed once more when he softly grinds his bulge against your cunt, your knees tightening against his hips as you let out a silent moan, lips parted.
“H-had to. I slept in it.” You admit before you think, brain focused on other things. He laughs quietly against your jaw, smoothing his tongue over the now bitten skin.
“Aw, you did?” He creates some space between the two of you, his hand very slowly starting to trail down your body, past your stomach. “You got it so bad for me, huh?” He teases and you whine, openly and pathetically— spoiled and childish even. JJ didn’t seem the type to talk about his feelings easily, but teasing you for yours was outright mean.
“Shutup.” Comes with the whine, your breath catching pathetically as you feel the rumble of him slowly unzipping your shorts zipper at your crotch, lips detaching from your jaw for a second to look at what he’s doing, still chuckling.
“Thats rude.” He grins, quiet and lighthearted, elated when you start helping him pull your shorts down and kicking them carelessly off. If he wasn’t so desperate to get his hands on you, he would have taken more time to appreciate your cute little cotton panties with the bow on top. They were so you, exactly the sort he pictured you wearing, moreso pictured you soaking through the way you were now.
His hand slides over the length of your covered cunt, all but cupping you and pushing his fingers over the embarrassing amount of wetness on the fabric. “What else did you do in the shirt, hm? Talk me through it babe.”
He’s teasing you, not truly expecting much of an answer as he genuinely believed a sweet girl like you wouldn’t have the gall to do anything but sleep in his shirt. His lips trail down the centre column of your neck, and it bobs with a harsh swallow. Now, his interest is piqued.
“Can’t say!” You whimper, eyes screwed up, legs spreading wider as he gently thumbs at your clit through the fabric, just enough to stimulate you. You feel him remove his mouth from you, lifting his head into your direct eyeline with an amused raise of the brow.
“Well now sweetheart, you’re just gonna have to tell me.” His fingers tuck into the leg hole of your panties, like he wants to pull it aside but won’t. You realise he’s still watching you, waiting for an answer and that he’s not gonna go further until you speak. “Don’t be shy, tell Papa J what you—”
“Touched myself. I touched myself.” You release all in one breath. Now it’s his turn to ogle you, completely off guard. If he wasn’t hard as a rock before, he certainly was now. Probably leaking in his boxers too from how things felt down there. This was poor performance from him, he thought at the back of his mind. This fucked so early on? Shit, he knew he liked you but c’mon.
He peels your panties to the side and you squeak, the boy making no effort to touch you still— just letting the cool air of your room grace your glossy folds.
“And why would you do something like that, baby?” He noses at your cheek, trying to get you to open your eyes. You squeeze them harder before fluttering them open, so hot in the face and embarrassed when you find his gaze you think you might just die.
“Because I like you.” You whisper. It’s sweet, just like he thought you’d be when the time comes. He smiles, dimple deepening as his free hand cups your cheek.
“Because you like me.” He repeats in affirmation. It’s a little smug, he’ll admit — but having his dream girl beneath him had his ego on ten, what can he say. He slides two fingers through your wetness, dragging what he collected up your clit and circling it making you arch your back. “Gotta say, the feelings definitely mutual.”
He kisses you again, and this time it feels like something else. Like a confession, a proposal of some sort. It’s passionate, overwhelming in the best way, intimate — as his fingers start to move, stroking your clit and making your legs tremble in adrenaline.
As you writhe and moan beneath him, his lips swallowing as many as he can, unable to stay away— his other hand starts to slide up your work shirt. You wished you’d been wearing something sexier the first time the two of you got it on, but clearly it sort of did something for him.
If the speed at which he located and stimulated your clit wasn’t enough to convince you that the boy definitely had experience, it would be the way his hand slides around to your back, unhooking your bra singlehandedly. You can’t help but giggle through your whimpers and you’re not sure why, but he smiles too— murmuring “Party trick.” against your mouth. The smile is wiped from your face when his digit glides around your hole, as if lapping up all the wetness and then pushing in— all the way to the knuckle.
You moan and tense up a little, it’s been a while and your own fingers were definitely smaller than his. At your reaction. he pulls back only slightly— a look of concern poorly masked on his face.
“Are you… have you uh, been with a guy before? Or is this…”
“One guy, a while back. Not good at all.” You sigh and he nods patiently, lips twitching up when he starts to move his finger and your eyes flutter involuntarily. “Think I can work with that.”
He twists his wrist a little, working you with just one finger as he paws at your free’d tit, sucking on your tongue. You moan, the sound of your own wetness having its own presence in the room and he hums, pulling back to look down at the way you’re sucking his middle finger in.
“So pretty, you’ve been holdin’ out on me baby. Should be a crime to hide this cute little pussy, damn.” He whispers and you whine in preemptive embarrassment to the way you clench around him, making him chuckle again. “Oh yeah? She liked that, huh?”
“More, please—” You nearly choke on your own swallow as you lift your head, looking down at the way he’s got you spread out. Reaching downwards you gently tug at his wrist, not quite sure of the aim. “N—‘nother one.” You pant. Jeez, already totally fucked dumb and he hasn’t even made you cum. You were going to give JJ Maybank an even bigger head.
He doesn’t say anything, just sinks two fingers into your cunt and you make a noise he’s only heard in amateur porn videos from Twitter, dick usually nestled in his fist. He presses his lips together in a quiet ‘Mhm’ and your hands are back on him, desperate once more to consume him wholly.
Your nails rake through his hair as he finds his rhythm, tonguing at the cut on his lip with wide observant eyes that flicker between your face and your cunt. “Look at you go.” He responds to a moan— but JJ being JJ knows he can do better, which is why he stops thumbing at your nipple and pushes his hand into the bed instead, using the weight on his arm to start sliding down your body.
The first kiss against your stomach catches you off guard, and if you weren’t so dizzy from pleasure you might wanna think about it more. He repositions his hand, stroking your inner thigh as he pushes them wider apart and shushes you, now face to face with your glistening pussy. His fingers slow their movements for a moment.
“She’s real pretty.” His fingers slide out so he can make messy doing of spreading your folds with his fingers, licking his already wet lips.
“Thank you.” You mewl happily, eyes watery as they gaze down at him like he hung the moon and stars for you.
“You’re so sweet.” He smiles genuinely and fairly innocently up at you as he strokes your thigh affectionately— before of course counteracting that by shooting out a thick bubbling glob of spit directly onto your clit, making your jaw drop. Lifting your thighs, he murmurs. “So sweet you get me hard. S’kinda unfair… at work.” Before he chases the spit with the flat of his tongue, bringing the muscle up to then wrap his lips around your clit and suck.
No noise can leave you for a few seconds, brows furrowed and jaw dropped in a silent moan until he forces the noise out of you by stuffing his fingers back inside your weeping hole.
“Oh— oh, JJ!” Your toes curl and in record time you feel your first orgasm approaching. It’s different from the ones you give yourself, it’s a ball of fire in your stomach and heat licking up your spine, eyes even watering at the exertion.
“Yeah say my name, c’mon.” He coaches you, moving his tongue faster like he’s competing with himself to make you cum.
“JJ, mmpph— feels— it feels—” You nearly sob.
“How’s it feel?”
“M’gonna—”
“Cum, babydoll. I got you.”
White noise. Like, almost the sounds of waves crashing. It doesn’t really feel like you’re a person anymore — but one thing is for certain. You have never cum like that in your life. You must of been on autopilot, moaning and whining pathetically, slurring out nonsense and maybe a twisted version of his name— but when you come back to Earth you’re near hyperventilating.
You slap at his shoulders with shaky hands because his lips are still latched onto your pulsing nub, fingers still squelching and working the release out of you. “Ok—okay, Jayj— please!” You let out a pathetic little cry and he eases up, pushing himself off you with a satisfied hum and grinning cheekily, letting you push out his fingers. You suck in shaky breaths, letting him soak in the moment by bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them off.
“Better than anything I make, can tell you that.” He jokes. “Taste that shit, s’fuckin’ delicious.” He eases his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck off the remains with a humiliated mewl before removing them, leaning over you to kiss you. God, it’s embarrassing how much you soaked his face. Really, how it ended up on his forehead— you wasn’t sure. You were too focused on your own taste he was forcing into your mouth with his tongue, purposeful and cocky, making sure to roll his own wet muscle over your tastebuds so that you never forget who made you cum that hard.
It’s then, and only then he realises you’re freaking a little and lets you off for a break, cupping your cheek as he pulls back. “Are you good?” He chuckles and you inhale deeply, still trembling. You’re not sure what he does, because everything’s all hazy but he manhandles you a little until he’s cradling you in strong biceps, brow creased. “Did I go too hard? I may— may have gotten a lil’ carried away there. My apologies.” He holds up a hand that wasn’t cradling you.
“Was just— haven’t — it’s never felt like that before. Never felt that good.” You admit, which brings back his dimple and that sickeningly soft look in his eyes.
“What can I say, you deserve the best there is when it comes to receiving orgasms, and I,” He presses his mouth back on yours, kissing you between each word. “Am the best, there, is, at, giving them.” On the last kiss you lean into it, holding him there, as you’re ambushed by an unexpected feeling.
Some kind of surge in your stomach, like butterflies but bigger, your heart pounding. If you weren’t so dazed you’d be worried the L word was coming to doom you early. The feeling made you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him back ontop of you, jean clad bulge pressed back against your sensitive heat as you moan, high pitched and happy against him.
He pulls back to make some kind of joke, maybe a comment about your recovery time but you beat him to the chase, staring up into his dilated pupils with love hearts occupying your own. “Wanna make you feel good, Jayj.”
“You—how—”
You suckle on your bottom lip, hand bravely travelling down to cup the bulge that was calling to attention in his jeans. His breath catches in his throat, lips parting to let out a quiet and surprised groan.
“I’ve never—” Your face is hot again. “Never given a blow job before but—”
“Next time. Yeah? If you’ll let me I kinda just… wanna fuck you.” He smirks and hides it in your jawline, almost too shy in the moment to look you in the eye. Your brows furrow with a silent whimper at his words.
“Next time?” You mewl happily like you’re floating on air. At this he pulls back, a hopeful grin.
“If you’ll have me, that is. Figured I should take you out on a real date.”
You don’t have time to respond, he doesn’t let you— perhaps out of nerves. Instead, he’s working your panties that had been pushed to the side down your legs, followed by pulling your tshirt over your head. “Peekaboo, there she is.” He smiles quietly and you giggle, thinking back to the time at the locker where he pulled his shirt over your head. You toss your loose bra away from the bed, now laying bare beneath him.
He sits back on his knees, hands instinctually lifting to his head like he wanted to fix his hat, a habit you noticed of his that would occur when he’s overwhelmed or in awe. He settles on running his hands through the blonde tresses instead, big goofy smile on his face.
“Holy shit. I mean like — holy shit.” He breathes and you turn your head shyly, then reaching out to tug at his shirt.
“You too.” You gesture to his shirt and he offs it within a second, not wanting to look away from your naked body from a minute. Once his hands are free again, he’s sliding them up to your chest, greedily massaging your tits in both hands.
“Fuck, you are so fine. I mean like I think I nearly came in my pants.” He admits quietly and you tug at his belt, having to remind him of what you were actually doing.
“C’mon, Jayj— want you to fuck me!” You whine, all doe eyes and pouts, not even registering how pathetic and desperate the sentiment was — only making his cock throb harder. He buckles slightly, like it physically pains him and he nods quickly, fumbling with his belt until he could pull his jeans down just enough to release himself.
It’s long, pink and pretty like you expected — pearly precum gathering at his tip. He grasps it infront of you, eyes flickering between yours and his dick, suddenly looking hesitant. “So uh, this is what m’ working with.” He announces awkwardly, overthinking everything — but it doesn’t matter because you’re wrapping a delicate hand round it, guiding him to your entrance.
“Woah there missy, okay uh— hold your horses. This job don’t pay either of us enough for you to get knocked up.” He side rolls off the bed hobbling over to the dresser for his wallet, retrieving a condom and returning. You would have laughed, but you get all embarrassed and teary eyed about how overly eager you’d been.
“Sorry. I wasn’t thinkin’.” You pout and his eyes flutter up to yours, kneeling between your legs.
“Hey? You’re good.” He tears the packet open with his teeth and you clench around nothing. “You’re good.” He repeats, stroking your thigh as he eases the rubber onto his cock. “Still up for it, babe?”
You bite your lip with a sniffly giggle, nodding and he grins himself, laying on top of you to press a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He pulls away, and he lines himself up before slowly easing himself in.
Your legs around his waist hug him tighter and your toes curl at the stretch, wincing. “You got it.” He encourages, voice breathier like it teetered on a moan which only made you flutter around him.
“S’big, JJ.” You whimper and he huffs against your neck.
“I— thanks.”
Once he’s in, he’s in — and you can see how his fingers and tongue were only just the appetiser. He fucks like it’s the last time, like his life depends on it— rolling his hips, his hands somehow in ten places at once, his tongue — oh his tongue, it’s in your mouth, then down your neck, then looping around your nipple making you clench and whine and cry.
He starts to speed up, unable to control himself as his hands slide under your lower back to hold you, thumbing at your waist. “Shit, shit, shit.” He grits his teeth, having to contain himself there and then from cumming when he sees the way your tits bounce beneath him. “Takin’ that shit so good, huh? Jesus baby.” He wrinkles his nose in exertion, panting.
“S’just so good, JJ— mmph!”
“Yeah? Y’gonna think of this everytime I see you, shit, everytime I see you in the kitchen? Givin’ me those big sexy fuck me eyes everytime I hand you a plate? Shit baby, pretty little waitress, huh. N’ you’re all mine now. So freakin’ lucky.” Hes rambling, nonsensical— already pussy drunk.
You’re in ecstasy. Not only from how he felt, but from how you were making him feel. It occurred to you that no one seems to talk about the validation you receive from finally getting to fuck your crush, watching them come apart over you. You wanted more, wanted to impress him.
In a trance, you push at his stomach, shuffling upwards so he reluctantly pulls out, concern on his clammy face. You fumble, rolling onto your front, sticking your ass in the air, looking over your shoulder.
“Please.” You plead, and you’re not sure what for— but it works, the blonde puffing out his cheeks with a dramatic exhale, lining himself behind you and pushing in. “Gonna be the death of me, babydoll.”
You may have overestimated your abilities, crying pathetically when he bottoms out, his cock feeling ten times it’s size from this angle.
“Arch that back baby, there you go, just like that.” He whispers, pressing down on your lower back making you sob. You fuck back against him, pressing your cheek to your pillow, fingers curling into it for security. “Good girl, that’s right.” He drops a hand beneath you, finding your clit once more and as a surprise ambush, you cum— suddenly and embarrassingly, gushing around his cock leaving a ring of cream at his base.
He doesn’t stop this time, giving you a moment to catch your breath as you whine and mewl like a distressed kitten. No, if anything — he goes harder, his own release on the precipice. The bed is creaking now, wooden headboard smacking the wall as he leans his weight on the back of your arms, pelvis slapping against your ass. Little squeaks are punched out of you with each thrust, and when you think he’s reached a crescendo— he slows.
“Fuck, fuck turn around baby. Need to see that pretty face to cum, c’mon.” He pants in one breath, fighting you back onto your back and sliding back in with ease this time, pushing one knee up to your chest and rolling his hips, eyes squeezed shut.
He tries to keep them open, eyes everywhere— your tits, your big wet eyes, your lips. Like he can’t help himself, he sloppily cups your cheek, a thumb brushing your bottom lip. Wanting to help him along in your post orgasm brain-fog, your tongue peeks out, trying to catch the finger as he bounces you on his cock. Once you’ve got it, you wrap your lips around it, sucking with devotion and love hearts in your eyes.
“Oh my— god” He whimpers, finally dropping his cheek to your chest as he ruts into you, spilling his seed. You moan at the feeling, scratching at his back and fluttering around him. The butterflies return.
After ten minutes, you’re laying on his thick bicep— his blunt fingernails scratching your scalp at the bottom of your skull. The dryer beeps distantly, signifying that it’s completed its cycle.
Maybank is staring at you, like he’s trying to memorise your face, like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. An amused smile breaks out onto your face, trying to hide it in his arm as you press a kiss there. At this, a grin spreads on his own face, questioning.
“You know… I do actually have an electric toothbrush.”
“I freaking knew it.”
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celesteleoves · 1 year
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“BACK OFF AND LOOK AWAY.”
ೃ࿐ KATSUKI BAKUGOU X FEM!READER
summary: katsuki HATES when others attempt to ask you out on a date, unless they are himself.
warnings: jealously, protective katsuki, soft!reader, you’re pretty it’s hard for people not to stare! fluff.
a/n: i love me some jealously drabbles. TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS 🤍
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no matter how many years katsuki had known you for, he would never be able to get over the suffocating beauty you held, you yourself sometimes didn’t even understand it.
it was in katsukis nature to be protective of those he loved. he was known for his high guard he held around those who he was not fond of, often coming off as intimidating and standoffish. you on the other hand, meant way more to him than anyone else on the planet. (besides his mom, of course)
he simply just could not stand it when someone’s stare lingered on you for too long or a group of childish boys giggled too hard at the sight of you.
with katsukis angry, looming figure beside you, not many dared to come up to you in fear of people crushed to shreds by bakugou katsuki.
today had been different apparently. a boy, around katsukis height (maybe even shorter) had walked up to you at a cafe you and katsuki were frequent customers at.
you sat at your table alone, waiting patiently for your boyfriend who was a bit late to the cafe due to his mother wanting him to help clean up her kitchen, which he groaned about while on the phone with you.
your eyes were focused intently on your phone as you laughed quietly at a post mina had made. it was you and katsuki sitting in the U.A. dorms snuggly on the couch as she captioned it ‘grumpy stole my sunshine.’
your attention was swiftly brought away from your phone as a cough was heard from above you, looking up, you caught eyes with a boy who seemed to look nervous. his eyes were dark and he had a backwards hat on. basically, he looked like a fuckboy.
“hey! um, i was wondering if i could get your number.” he nervously scratched his neck as he turned around slightly. you furrowed your brows and followed his gaze, finding a group of boys sitting in a booth close by, phones out on display as they laughed.
you smiled, “i’m sorry but i’m actually waiting for someone.”
your tone was polite and endearing, hoping to not come off as rude or to embarrass the boy.
your boyfriend, who had been parking while this went on thought otherwise. he was ready to make a scene.
“come on, just let me get your number yeah? the person your waiting for isn’t worth it obviously if they aren’t here on time.” the boy had now leaned over you, practically climbing his way to sit beside you.
you looked at him like he had two heads and he immediately stiffened up.
the boys ears had turned red from embarrassment of being rejected by you – who sat uncomfortably in your seat.
“he is worth it, he’s just running late-” you had barely gotten your sentence out of your mouth when the boy was pulled away from you by his collar and a figure had casted a shadow over you.
“i’m fucking here, who’s this douchebag?” katsuki paused and raised a eyebrow. “let’s keep this civilized, yeah?”
katsuki turned the boy to face him with a scowl as the boy slowly realized you were in a relationship.
“shit, i didn’t realize.” the boy had pulled katsuki’s hand off of him and was starting to back up before katsuki took a step towards him.
“sure, back off and look away from my girlfriend. tell your little group that too.”
the boy nodded and jogged back to his friends that sat in their booth, jaws dropped.
“kats! i’m sorry i should’ve just toughened up like you told me too and rejected him more bluntly..” you sighed as you rethought the whole situation.
katsuki took a seat infront of you and let his expression become soft as he stared into your eyes.
“nah, don’t apologize, y/n. let’s just forget about this and talk about how good you look right now.” katsuki smirked at the end of his sentence as you blushed and laughed while reaching forward grabbing his rough, scarred hand that squeezed yours back tightly.
you knew you could always rely on katsuki.
-
a/n: heyy. it’s been a while, around like what? a month or so since i last posted :’) IVE BEEN SO BUSY WITH SPORTS, SCHOOL, ETC! i’m back though and will probably write on the weekends because why not? please send in requests for mha (cough cough, my hun bakugou and more!)
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shaguro · 3 months
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— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.
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✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.
✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.
✧word count: 1.6k.
✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.
“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”
“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”
now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.
and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.
“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”
this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.
it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.
in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.
“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”
connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”
the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.
you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.
“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”
his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.
“how much time do we have left, pretty?”
you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”
connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”
all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.
“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.
your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.
and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.
not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.
“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“
“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.
“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”
your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.
“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”
“c-connie, you—“
“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”
you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”
connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.
“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.
“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”
it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.
instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.
“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”
he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,
“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.
only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.
there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.
“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”
but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."
tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.
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nerdpoe · 7 months
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Danny decides to open a haunted house for Halloween-in Gotham. For kicks. He reserves the opening night for the Bats and only the Bats. The Bats do not have a choice in this.
They all wake up in the haunted house.
Their rogues, who had big plans, also wake up in the haunted house-but they don't get the toned down spooky version Danny's working on for potential customers that he's doing a test-run with via Bat testers.
No, the Rogues are locked in the basement with the ghosts of everyone they've killed.
Danny's got Tucker running the cameras, Sam helping coordinate the Ghosts, and Danny himself is running the actual spooky bits.
In theory, it's the perfect haunted house.
The best way to test it though, he feels, is against heroes that face scary things every day.
So.
Red Hood walking down a hallway, sees feet dangling from the ceiling. But there's a convenient beam blocking their view, so he strides up just as the feet vanish-and that's a solid wooden ceiling.
There's a note with a smiley face.
"Please rate your haunting experience on a scale of one to ten! :)"
Robin sees a shadow, and he chases it. And chases it. And chases it. And foolishly he somehow manages to let it lead him to a dead end-only when he turns around, the shadow is in the door.
And it's just a being made of pure shadow, with elongated limbs, breathing with a horrible wet rasp as it stares down at him.
Then it disappears.
In it's place, there's a note.
"Please rate your haunting experience on a scale of one to ten! :)"
Red Robin hears Batman call out for him to look something over, so he goes into the room.
Batman isn't there.
Batman's voice whispers in his ear from behind.
"Never thought you'd fall for that~"
The door slams shut.
Red Robin turns to open it, but it won't open. Not even if he picks the lock.
The floor creaks, and when he turns around he sees Batman standing right there-only for him to dissolve piece by piece.
In the puddle of weird green goo, there's a note.
"Please rate your haunting experience on a scale of one to ten! :)"
Bruce is in what looks like a child's room.
The temperature drops, and he braces for a supernatural event, because this is clearly what's going on.
The air stands still-and every single toy's head snaps to look at him.
They open their mouths and scream, green goo gargling up and spilling out of their lips.
The lights cut out, then they come back on; and the toys are all arranged around him in a peculiar pattern.
There's a note at his feet.
His lips quirk up against his will.
"Please rate your haunting experience on a scale of one to ten! :)"
Nightwing knows he's being fucked with.
He knows it.
He recognizes the room he's in-it was in the pamphlet for the new haunted house opening in Gotham. He'd really wanted to go, actually, but he was kinda sad he didn't have anyone with him.
He wanted it to be a family outing.
But from what it looks like, this is probably a test run. No ones emergency beacons have gone off, and there's only swearing in the comms cut through with mild amusement on Bruce's part.
Ugh, he doesn't want spoilers! He wants to go through it for the first time with everyone else!
"Hey, um, I was actually planning to come here with my family! I don't really want to be spoiled on anything, so can I skip this? And can I have anyone you haven't tested it on skip it too? Cuz they're probably friends or family and I want to be on the same knowledge level of what to expect."
The air itself seems to pause.
"Ah, shit, I'm sorry man. I didn't even think of that; I'll pull Spoiler and Signal before we start their runs."
Nightwing turns towards the intercom and waves cheerfully.
"I mean, we'd definitely be down to walk through the house tonight, but I want to do it in a group so we can laugh at each other."
"Oh, for sure, I just got too caught up in the 'creepy' part of the haunted house. The exit is hidden in the wall to your left, just pick up the rotary phone and it should pop out."
"Alright, I'll be waiting for them at the front!"
@simplestoryteller
2K notes · View notes
neonovember · 11 months
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Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)
Office Doors
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Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world
warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen
carmen berzatto x reader!
(This is totally and completely canon btw)
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You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.
You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.
You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.
It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.
And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.
The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.
Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.
You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.
Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.
One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.
You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.
They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.
Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.
Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 
“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 
Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.
You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 
You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.
You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.
“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.
The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively
“I definitely want something”
You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.
“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 
“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation
“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile
“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.
“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer
You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.
You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.
“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.
“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh
“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.
You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.
The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.
“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath
“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.
“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.
“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.
“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 
The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.
The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 
Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.
Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.
“What did he just say?” 
“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.
The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.
“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.
A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 
And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.
The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 
It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.
“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.
Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.
His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 
Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.
“Apologise”
“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 
“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 
The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.
“Do you accept? Huh honey?”
You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.
“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.
Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement
“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.
You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.
The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 
By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.
No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 
Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.
“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.
“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.
Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“
“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.
Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.
“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.
You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 
“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 
His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 
The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 
It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 
You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.
Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 
Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.
“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.
“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.
“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.
“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips
“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.
You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 
“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.
“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 
He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.
Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.
Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.
Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.
“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 
Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.
“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 
“Let them” 
Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 
You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.
“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over
Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.
Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.
“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.
“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.
Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.
You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 
You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.
Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.
The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 
You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 
He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.
You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.
You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.
Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.
Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.
As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait
“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 
“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.
You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 
It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 
You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.
This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.
“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.
You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.
The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.
You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.
Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.
Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.
The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.
You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.
You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 
Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.
You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.
After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.
“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise
“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.
“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.
“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.
“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.
“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”
“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover
“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 
Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.
“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.
“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.
“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.
You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.
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zyafics · 1 month
Text
play fake | part four
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for all your lovely comments and reblogs, i love reading them sm! this one is going to be a long one too, so please enjoy <3
dedication also, this chapter is for @rivaiken iykyk ;)
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.
It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.
Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.
But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.
Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.
The only problem is he doesn't give it back.
Asshole.
You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.
"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.
You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.
Only to realize it was Rafe.
Your smile drops.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.
"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."
"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"
"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."
"Business?"
"No, at my house."
Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."
"You don't even know what it is about."
"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"
His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.
"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."
You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."
"I haven't told you the day yet."
"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.
"I'll pay you."
"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."
Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?
"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"
You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.
You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.
Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.
"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"
You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."
His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"
Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."
He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.
"I remember you were begging for it."
You slap him.
It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.
Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."
His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.
You were going to drive each other insane.
And some sick part of you liked it.
"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."
"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."
"We never said that in our relationship."
"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."
You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.
"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."
He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.
"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."
For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"
"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"
To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.
He remains silent.
You continue.
"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."
You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.
Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.
"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.
"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."
He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.
As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.
About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.
About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.
Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.
Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.
"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."
You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.
A notification flashes at the top of your screen.
topperthornton: hey
Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?
you: hello?
He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.
you: why?
topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn
you: so i heard
topperthornton: well, you should come
you: i don't think so, white boy
topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u
Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.
you: ?? for what
You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.
You hate it.
topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u
You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.
topperthornton: u need to come immediately
Fucking hell.
You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy. 
You have to go.
There's no other way around it.
Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.
It's Pope.
"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"
"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.
"Everything okay?"
"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."
Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."
"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"
He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."
You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.
When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.
Topper spots you at the porch.
"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."
You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.
"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"
"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."
You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."
Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.
You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.
You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.
Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.
When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.
You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.
He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.
"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."
"I thought you said you had a double shift."
He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.
"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.
Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.
His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"
You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.
You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.
"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."
His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"
"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."
Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.
"I thought you needed help."
Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."
You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.
"Come here."
You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.
"I know something that would make me feel better."
You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"
"Sit on my lap."
You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.
Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.
"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.
"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."
You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.
"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."
You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."
"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."
You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.
You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.
The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.
"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"
He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."
His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.
You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.
"Don't do that."
"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."
"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."
"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."
He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.
"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."
You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.
This is done in complete silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."
You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.
"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."
He still doesn't get it.
You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."
His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.
"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."
You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.
"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."
"Easier said than done, darling."
Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.
He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.
You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"
"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."
You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.
When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.
It was easiest to talk to you.
It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.
Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.
And he used that to his advantage.
You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.
You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.
"God, your dad is a dick."
Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.
"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"
"I know what you mean."
That came out with an edge.
You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.
"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.
Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.
"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."
Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."
The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.
"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."
"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."
He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.
"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."
You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.
"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."
Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"
He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.
"Turn around."
Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.
"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.
"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."
Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.
You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.
Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.
"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.
"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."
His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"
"I look at you as I do."
A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.
You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.
And he's watching.
"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.
"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."
Fuck, Rafe thought.
With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.
"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.
You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.
"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."
When he truly means to stop torturing him.
You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.
A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.
And he's fucking hard.
Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it. 
"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"
"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."
Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.
"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him. 
"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."
He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.
You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.
Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"
You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"
He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.
It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.
He has enough.
"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."
He's bargaining, goddammit.
A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.
Rafe growls out your name.
You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.
"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."
You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"
He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."
"My pleasure, right, baby?"
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."
You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.
"You can touch me."
Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.
"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.
"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."
"It doesn't feel good, does it?"
Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."
You provoke further. "You love it."
He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.
"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.
"Feels good?"
"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."
Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"
He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.
"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."
Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.
"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.
"I'm not going anywhere, baby."
Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm. 
"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."
You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.
"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."
"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."
You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber. 
— read part five —
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