#Hope you guys got enough angst still

[potatounicoorn]

The fact we grew up along side him makes me emotional every single time.

[jaylaxies]

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).

WORD COUNT: 17.4k words

SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

Chapter 1. The café. 

The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes. 

It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case. 

You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. 

“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face. 

Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh. 

You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face. 

“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly. 

“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way. 

“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself. 

“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added. 

“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief. 

“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug. 

You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all. 

Almost as if he was enjoying it. 

“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment. 

You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung. 

“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?” 

A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama. 

You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong. 

“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth. 

“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever. 

“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?” 

Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body. 

“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos. 

“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces. 

“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back. 

“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance. 

“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Fine, then live with me for a week.”

“What?”

“Wait, what?”

“Huh?” 

You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses. 

“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked. 

“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly. 

“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background. 

“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze. 

“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner. 

“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more. 

“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away. 

“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained. 

Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap. 

You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever. 

“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore. 

“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second. 

Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose. 

“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face. 

“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled. 

“Yeah. Yes, they are.”

Chapter 2. The humble abode. 

Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back. 

It wasn’t easy. 

Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come. 

Heeseung was going to be your roommate. 

The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.

Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment. 

And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home. 

“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you. 

“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled. 

“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had. 

“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically. 

“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”

“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment. 

“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization. 

He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”

And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends. 

“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you. 

On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’

“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch. 

“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date. 

“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly. 

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled. 

Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart. 

As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight. 

“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him. 

“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process. 

“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. 

Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:

“What did I do?” 

Chapter 3. Not so humble. 

Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place. 

It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while. 

It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days. 

It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days. 

It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate. 

His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind. 

“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked. 

“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top. 

“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way. 

“Hah, as if.”

“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked. 

You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?” 

You gave him a look before retreating back to your room. 

“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?” 

“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door. 

“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”

“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”

“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever. 

“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath. 

“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”

Chapter 4. Not your driver. 

“Toothbrush?”

“Check.”

“Laptop?”

“Check.”

“Charger?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing. 

“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.

“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed. 

The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”

You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”

“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled. 

You stared at him, expressionless. 

You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face. 

“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction. 

You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”

“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening. 

“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked. 

“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

“Yes!”

“No!”

You and Heeseung exchanged glances. 

“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment. 

You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way. 

It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness. 

Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus. 

“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung. 

“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror. 

“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both. 

However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?” 

“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice. 

“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”

“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything. 

You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you. 

“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky. 

“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”

“I can do it—”

“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up. 

His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again. 

“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was. 

“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.  

Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze. 

“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.  

He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”

You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving. 

You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus. 

“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out. 

You blamed his scent. 

It was all because of his scent. 

Chapter 5. Home Alone. 

It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked. 

Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy. 

Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one. 

That’s what you have to deal with now. 

With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”

Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot. 

Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled. 

You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned. 

“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away. 

The action which caused him to moan.

You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again. 

“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again. 

“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him. 

“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules. 

Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3

1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food.  3. No loud music and video games.  4. No bringing guests without prior notice. 

“No guests?” 

“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked. 

He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.  

“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere. 

Way too sincere for your own liking. 

“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow. 

“Since you asked nicely.”

5. Chores will be divided equally.  6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung. 

“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway. 

“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him. 

“We can just ignore each other.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”

“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.

Arguing with him was pointless. 

“Okay, fine.”

9. Maintain cleanliness.

That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away. 

You didn’t wanna hurt yourself. 

You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better. 

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him. 

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung. 

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed. 

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face. 

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid. 

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face. 

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines. 

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it. 

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice. 

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm. 

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.” 

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.” 

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating. 

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.  

“Can’t move?” He teased. 

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.  

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger. 

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move. 

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.  

Messing with you was one thing. 

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing. 

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war. 

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him. 

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back. 

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you. 

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that. 

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered. 

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.  

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you. 

Chapter 6. A proof? 

In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things. 

First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless. 

Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook. 

And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind. 

Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face. 

It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him. 

But then, he did what he had to. 

He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself. 

Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it. 

“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment. 

There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone. 

It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound. 

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer. 

The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside. 

The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face. 

He was naked. 

He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background. 

“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were. 

And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so. 

You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. 

That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it. 

He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it. 

He indeed had a big fucking cock. 

And he knew exactly how to use it. 

Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close? 

You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him. 

“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration. 

You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind. 

“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland. 

Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation. 

Overthinking was going to be your demise. 

If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts. 

You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated. 

Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind. 

“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”

You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means. 

However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late. 

It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today. 

“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it. 

“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second. 

“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again. 

At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment. 

You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place. 

And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No. 

You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised. 

Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay. 

Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer. 

A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more. 

Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text. 

“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening. 

“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes. 

At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right? 

“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon. 

Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated. 

Right? 

You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you. 

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes. 

“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room. 

“Away from you,” you mumbled. 

He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done. 

“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower. 

Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out. 

You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.” 

“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled. 

You had officially lost your mind. 

“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him. 

“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall. 

“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours. 

You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave. 

“Shut up,” you breathed out. 

“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage. 

“No,” you mumbled. 

He smirked, “no?” 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice. 

You hated him. 

And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I—”

“You?” 

“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself. 

“Please what, my love?” 

You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud. 

“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip. 

“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face. 

His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva. 

You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.  

That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses. 

You had just kissed Heeseung. 

And you liked it. 

Well, fuck!

You had to run, you had to leave. 

That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away. 

It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips. 

“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned. 

Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after. 

“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties. 

The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet. 

All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again. 

Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles. 

Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved. 

Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand. 

“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny. 

Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop. 

You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.

Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw. 

Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation. 

You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window. 

That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized. 

You wanted Lee Heeseung. 

 Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages? 

It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this. 

You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now? 

He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you? 

You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back. 

Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone. 

He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again. 

Did he go too far this time? 

He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips. 

However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake. 

The thought of him hating you kept you awake. 

And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over. 

You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning. 

However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room. 

“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed. 

There was no answer, which only irritated you more. 

It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away. 

Were you making a big thing out of this? 

You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again. 

You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect. 

26 missed calls from Heeseung. 

Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it? 

You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside. 

Gyu 🐰: I’m here!! 

Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing? 

Fuck. 

You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door. 

“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring. 

The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other. 

“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully. 

Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you. 

Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say. 

That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face. 

“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed. 

“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face. 

“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?” 

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung. 

“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated. 

“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him. 

He only blinked, once and then twice. 

“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath. 

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”

“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.  

“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”

“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again. 

“Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something. 

“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed. 

That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice. 

But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out. 

You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics. 

It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining. 

However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people. 

He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset. 

Heeseung felt like his life was ruined. 

Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you. 

You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.

It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life. 

It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung. 

It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.

Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this. 

He had to do something. 

Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love. 

It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again. 

You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this. 

However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself. 

So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork. 

“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more. 

“Hee—” you gulped. 

“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”

You still couldn’t look in his eyes. 

He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it. 

You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did. 

Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time. 

You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again. 

“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions. 

“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held. 

“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him. 

It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse. 

“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”

“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”

“—don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”

Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now. 

You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”

“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours. 

“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”

“What?” You were taken aback. 

“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper. 

The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected. 

There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words. 

He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—

“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours. 

His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen. 

“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you. 

He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush. 

He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung. 

He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more. 

“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.” 

“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. 

With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably. 

“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.” 

You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps. 

“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you. 

He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut. 

“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?” 

“What?” 

“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly. 

You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease. 

Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum. 

“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck. 

You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy. 

“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more. 

“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body. 

“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.

“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function. 

“Want you,” you finally spoke up. 

“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react. 

You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches. 

“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing. 

However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.” 

You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”

He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go. 

“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well. 

Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps. 

The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you. 

Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now. 

You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead. 

His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease. 

Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight. 

“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.

“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room. 

You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says. 

He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you. 

“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched. 

You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long. 

He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended. 

Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier. 

He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks. 

His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath. 

“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care. 

You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.  

“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most. 

“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.” 

“Please,” you begged feebly. 

“Please what, love?” 

You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.  

Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds. 

“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”

His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit. 

Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same. 

With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you. 

Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again. 

You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe. 

The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again. 

Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear. 

He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations. 

The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open. 

Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him. 

“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt. 

You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure. 

Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go. 

You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed. 

“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over. 

“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper. 

“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth. 

You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped. 

With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure. 

He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth. 

He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop. 

“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently. 

You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened. 

“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke. 

“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”

“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm. 

“Shh, you can take it, right?”

His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy. 

“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours. 

His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt. 

You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him. 

“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?” 

“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back. 

“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. 

He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud. 

Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression. 

“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled. 

“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”

“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say. 

Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.  

You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you. 

“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better. 

“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully. 

Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. 

“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him. 

“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up. 

You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over. 

You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster. 

The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out. 

And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name. 

You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out. 

“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered. 

His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop. 

With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder. 

“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt. 

Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. 

A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you. 

He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you. 

You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so. 

It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed. 

You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.

That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation. 

“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining. 

“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”

“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice. 

You were never the one to confront. 

“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way. 

“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation. 

“Me?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?”

“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong. 

You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”

Heeseung looked lost as ever.  

“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong. 

“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled. 

What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back? 

“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”

Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips. 

“You know what you said?”

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”

There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point. 

Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her. 

In front of everyone at that. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him. 

“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement. 

“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”

“Like pranking and bothering me?”

“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed. 

“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?

A misunderstanding. 

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding. 

“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression. 

“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended. 

“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times. 

“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again. 

“Yeah, princess?” He whispered. 

“So, about what happened—”

“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly. 

If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung. 

“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”

Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name. 

“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out. 

“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”

“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”

He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile. 

“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way. 

“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his. 

“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

At that moment, you truly felt happy. 

And that’s all that mattered. 

Chapter 10: I saw it coming. 

It’s baffling. 

Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more. 

Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there. 

It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses. 

You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before. 

He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile. 

Especially when he was the one who made you smile. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled. 

“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly. 

However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today. 

Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off. 

Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal. 

Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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© jaylaxies | tumblr

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[heeliopheelia]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least. 

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now. 

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully. 

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it. 

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there. 

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you. 

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again. 

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him. 

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further. 

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.” 

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment. 

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you. 

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough. 

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?” 

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead. 

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly. 

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips. 

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut. 

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly. 

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly. 

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered. 

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace. 

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration on. 

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles. 

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe. 

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck. 

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him. 

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry. 

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body. 

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound. 

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few droplets of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?” 

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the edge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending to?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom. 

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers. 

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles. 

You feel awful. 

Jake feels even worse. 

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair. 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting. 

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.” 

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible. 

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience that again for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago. 

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand. 

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl. 

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?” 

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him. 

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well. 

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more. 

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair. 

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest. 

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago. 

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again. 

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers. 

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago. 

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 3

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)

⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.

Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.

Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.

Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.

“You’re such a fucking slut.”

His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.

“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”

“N-No I—”

Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.

“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”

If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.

Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 

You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 

The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.

And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 

Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 

You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 

“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”

A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.

“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”

You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.

“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”

Choso wasn’t wrong. 

You knew what those boys wanted from you.

Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 

Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.

Choso was making damn sure of that now.

“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”

Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.

“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 

You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 

It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 

Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.

Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.

“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 

SMACK!

“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 

His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 

Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 

Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 

Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.

“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”

Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.

You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 

You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 

“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…” 

You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.

“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”

The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.

“P-Please C-Cho I—”

—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 

Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.

“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”

You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.

“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”

You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 

“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”

Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.

“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”

Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.

“—eventually.”

Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 

Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.

Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.

“Strip.”

It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 

Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.

Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.

Was it really new? 

Or was this side just new to you? 

You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.

But this other side? 

Well, he was a dealer.

You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 

You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.

You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 

Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.

He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 

In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.

So this must be how he is in the streets. 

“Go on now, princess.”

The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 

Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.

“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”

You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.

“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”

You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.

Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.

Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 

Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 

Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 

You were nervous—good.

“Knees.”

Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.

Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 

In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 

Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.

Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 

Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.

“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”

“—anything!” 

Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.

“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 

The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.

Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 

Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 

You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.

The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.

Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.

However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 

Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.

Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.

“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”

Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 

This is how you should be. 

Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.

Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 

His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 

“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”

Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.

Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 

But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 

Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.

Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.

Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.

Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 

“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”

Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 

Your lips are mere centimeters apart.

You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.

“Not yet, baby.”

You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 

“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”

If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 

You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.

Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.

His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.

“You let anyone touch these?”

The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 

You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 

Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 

Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.

You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.

Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 

Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.

Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.

That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.

“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”

His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 

You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 

Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 

“N-no!”

Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.

“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 

“Then show me.”

Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 

He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 

Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 

Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 

You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 

The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.

Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 

You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.

However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 

Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks

“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”

You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 

You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 

His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 

Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.

Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.

Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.

All for him. 

You were still his even after all this time.

However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.

“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”

Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.

“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”

His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.

“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”

You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.

You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 

Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 

“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”

Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.

“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”

Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.

Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.

God you were virgin-tight again. 

Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 

In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.

That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 

This was all your fault after all. 

Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 

Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 

“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”

“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 

Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 

“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 

The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 

“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”

Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 

You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.

You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.

Who was Choso to you?  

Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.

Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 

By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 

You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 

You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 

Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 

That was enough.

Goddamnit.

Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 

This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 

Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.

“M-My boyfriend!”

Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.

Had you really missed your chance to be with him?

Would he just fuck you and leave after?

Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 

Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.

The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.

“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”

A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”

Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.

So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 

Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 

“So—who am I?”

The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.

Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.

“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”

You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.

“NO, DADDY!” 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”

There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.

“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”

Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.

“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”

Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.

Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 

Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 

Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 

SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 

You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.

Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 

“Come on, princess…”

Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 

The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 

But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 

Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.

“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”

Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.

Sighing, Choso relents.

“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”

No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.

God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.

Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.

Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 

Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.

Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 

You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.

He just needed you to be good and take it. 

And take it you did.

Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 

Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.

“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”

But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.

“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 

Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 

Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 

Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 

It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 

You still had a year of school left.

He couldn't knock you up. 

Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 

Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 

“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 

Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 

Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  

Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 

Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.

“No.”

The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 

“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”

And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 

“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”

Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 

“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”

Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 

“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”

Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.

School. 

The sorority. 

Your presidency. 

None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 

The walls quake even more violently. 

The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 

Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.

“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”

Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 

Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—

“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”

On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 

All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 

Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 

“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”

Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 

No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 

This can’t be happening right now.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed to cum so bad. 

Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  

“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”

You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 

Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 

Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.

“Heh.”

Are you actually choosing him for once?

Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.

The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.

“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”

You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.

“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”

For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.

“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”

You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 

Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 

Your cock.

“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”

Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.

“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 

“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”

Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.

Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 

He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.

“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”

Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 

“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”

In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.

Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.

In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 

“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”

Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.

“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”

The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 

Damn—you’re so perfect.  

Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 

His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 

Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.

Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.

“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”

Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.

“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”

All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.

“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”

Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.

Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 

“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.

Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.

“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 

Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  

“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 

Oh fuck… 

And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 

Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.

You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.

Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.

“MHMMM FUCK!”

The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 

If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.

“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”

You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.

Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 

The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 

“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”

Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 

Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 

Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 

You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 

However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 

Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.

Typical…

The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.

Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 

You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 

There was still so much uncertainty. 

Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 

You’d meant it though.

Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.

You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.

“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”

His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.

“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”

You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.

“N-No, Cho—”

Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 

You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you— 

“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”

“Bet.”

Wait…huh?

Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 

You’re left speechless.

“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”

Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 

“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”

Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.

Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.

Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.

“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”

Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 

Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 

But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 

Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—

—MUTHRFUUUUH!

Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.

Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.

There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 

You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.

You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 

And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.

You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 

Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 

He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 

Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.

Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.

Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.

⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.

taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.

reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!

[grugruel]

Your daddy know 'bout this?

(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)

Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.

When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)

AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girlies🥹🫶

It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.

The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-

Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."

Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."

-

"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.

She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"

She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.

Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.

Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.

Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.

"I asked you a question, doll."

She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.

The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.

She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.

"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.

She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."

A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"

She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."

The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.

She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?

She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."

He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.

She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"

'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.

Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.

She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.

"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.

"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.

"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.

She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.

The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.

She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.

Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.

Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'

"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."

"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.

She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.

The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."

Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.

Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.

"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.

No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.

Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"

"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.

She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.

Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."

If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.

"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.

She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.

"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.

"Fine . . . " She sighed.

"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.

She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.

His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.

She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."

He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.

Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.

Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.

The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.

She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.

"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.

She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.

The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.

As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.

-

Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"

She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.

"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."

The girl understood that too.

-

After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."

"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.

"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."

-

The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.

"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.

The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.

-

When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.

But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."

"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."

She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"

" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.

She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.

He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."

"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.

"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."

She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"

He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.

Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"

He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"

"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."

"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."

"And if I say yes, what then, girl?

"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."

"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.

"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.

"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"

But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.

After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.

There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.

After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.

After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.

And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?

She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.

Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.

"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.

Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?

She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."

"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."

She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.

Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.

She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.

Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.

Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.

He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.

But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."

His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."

She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.

Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?

She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.

Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.

Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."

"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.

Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."

"I'm comin' back."

After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.

"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"

"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."

Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."

"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."

Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.

He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.

It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.

But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"

He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.

She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.

Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."

He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."

Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.

"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.

She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"

"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."

A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.

"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.

"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.

His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"

She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."

His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."

His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."

And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.

Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.

Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.

With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.

"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.

"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."

He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.

Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."

She smiled against him. "Harder."

He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.

"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.

"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.

"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.

"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."

He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.

Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.

Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.

His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"

She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.

Bucky stared, unable to form words.

"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.

"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.

-

[hyprfixate]

a genetic disposition (to loving you) :: [BC x Reader]

read on AO3

summary: seeing chan at the genetic clinic when he told you he was too busy to hang out was one thing. noticing he was now significantly taller than he was a couple weeks ago was another.

learning he's been diagnosed with the werewolf disorder is something different entirely.

pairing: bang chan x reader

tropes: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, modern werewolf au, no transformations tho, chronically ill reader, reader has EDS (ehlers danlos syndrome), some angst, slight miscommunication trope

smut warning: masturbation (m), handjobs, blink-and-you-miss-it subby chan, voyeurism, pussy eating (x2), no actual ABO dynamics but that's not stopping Chan from calling himself Alpha, dirty talk, lots of begging, standing/wall sex, cumming inside AND cumming outside.

content warning: talks about being in pain, self deprecating talk, anxiety spirals, very brief internalized ableism, panic attack

word count: 21.6k

author's note: if you saw the three different attempts to post this, no you didn't. enjoy! <3

Chan was acting weird.

To be fair, he always acts weird. Weird might actually be his default. But this was a different type of weird– a weird that involved canceling plans last minute and making up flimsy excuses about why. 

Today, he was supposed to accompany you to your doctor's appointment. A simple, low stakes kind of hangout. You looked at your phone with a sigh.

Channie: sorry, can we do a raincheck for our hangout? not to sound like a fuckboy but something came up

Channie: i really am sorry babygirl. i'll make it up to you i promise. please tell me how it goes okay?

You let out a small huff of air. You would love to be annoyed, mad even, but at the end of the day, this is Chan, your best friend since elementary school. The guy who held you through heartbreaks and stressful semesters. The guy who memorized your ridiculously complicated Dunkin order. The guy who dropped everything to stay with you at the hospital a few months ago when things got really bad.

The guy you're secretly in love with.

Okay, maybe that was a minor and insignificant detail in the grand scheme of things. Either way, you can't be mad at Chan. 

You: don't worry channie. i'll be okay. I hope your stuff goes well ok? 

Channie: love u, good luck with your appointment, it's gonna be ok

Right. Your appointment.

You'd been having some increasingly bothersome and worrying symptoms for the better part of 2 years now. It started with a noticeable dull ache in your knees that wouldn't go away, reaching a peak now where there's not a single day you wake up pain free. The doctors were just as stumped as you were, and as sort of a last ditch effort, they sent you to a geneticist in the expensive part of the city. Thank goodness for adequate health insurance.

You were a bit nervous, which is why you asked Chan to come with you, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You've been to specialists before. 

Still, disappointment rises in your chest as you finish pulling your hair away from your face and securing it with a scrunchie before grabbing your essentials and heading out the door. You're more disappointed about the fact that he's not coming instead of what he's not coming to. You're getting a little weary and tired of the excuses and him bailing on plans. 

But then you think about the way his voice sounds when he calls you babygirl, and everything seems right again.

The trip to the geneticist office is long, and by the time you arrive, you feel the exhaustion in every joint. For such a high caliber place, it's decorated just as sterile and modern as you were expecting, with white walls and white furniture. When you go to check in, the receptionist hands you a tablet with various forms pulled up and points you to the waiting room.

You settle into one of the white waiting room chairs, balancing the iPad on your lap as you begin working through the forms. The questions start simple enough - name, date of birth, insurance information. Then they get more involved, diving into your medical history.

Have you experienced any of the following symptoms in the last six months?

The list that follows is daunting - joint pain (obviously), muscle weakness (sometimes), unexplained fatigue (who doesn't have that?), difficulty concentrating (depends on the day). You find yourself checking more boxes than you'd like.

Your mind drifts to Chan again. You wonder what was so important that he had to cancel. Usually, he at least gives you a concrete excuse, even if it's something silly like having to wash his hair or visit his parents. Today's vague "something came up" feels different. Worrying.

Before you can stop yourself, you pull out your phone.

You: this intake paperwork feels like the ending of a medication commercial

You: i’m surprised they haven't asked me if i or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesothelioma

The message stays on delivered for a while, longer than you expect. You give up on staring at your phone and turn your attention back to the paperwork.

After a ridiculous amount of questions and an even more ridiculous amount of signatures, you finish the preliminary stuff, heading back to the receptionist desk to hand her the iPad. She gives you a polite nod and smile and lets you know the nurse will be out in a second, so you can wait in the small chair by the double doors.

You're lost in thought, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear the gentle sound of your name called. The sound makes you look up, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bag. A nurse stands by the double doors, clipboard in hand, wearing deep purple scrubs and a smile that somehow makes the sterile environment feel a little more human.

You push yourself up from the chair, joints starting their songs of protest after sitting still for so long. The nurse offers pleasantries that you respond to with your usual politeness. As you're walking towards the open door, you hear a beep and the whirr of an electronic lock unlocking. The closed side of the door swings open and–

There's Chan.

You both freeze mid-step, eyes wide and locked on each other like this is the first time you're seeing each other in years. It feels like it, but you did just see him last weekend at a mutual friend's birthday party. It was a fun night, but he was acting strange and dodgy then, too.

something came up.

You squint at him, not sure whether confusion or anger is winning the war in you right now. He opens his mouth once, twice– words are failing. The most he can do is let out a shaky, “Babygirl…”

You take that moment to really look at him. His hair is in its natural curly state, but significantly more messy than usual, wisps falling over and around themselves. His eyes are red and bagged heavily, and his shoulders seem like they're scrunching in on themselves. He hasn't looked like this since that night in the hospital with you.

Something is definitely wrong. 

The nurse clears her throat, and you remember you're being waited on. You motion wordlessly towards the nurse and he gives you a shaky nod.  

“I'll, um. I'll text you,” he mumbles weakly, holding the door open for you as you walk past. When you do, you can't help but look up at him, like way, way up. More than you usually do. You almost pause again– are your bone problems making you shrink, or is he somehow taller? Why does he look like that?

It's you who nods shakily this time, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away so you don't bump into a wall. It takes concentrated effort not to look back at him while you walk down the hallway, but somehow you manage.

The nurse brings you to an exam room and tells you to sit tight while she gets the vitals cart. You obey, still dazed and confused and maybe even a little hurt if you allow yourself to really feel it. Your phone buzzes less than a minute later, and you don't even have to guess who it is.

Channie: i'm so sorry.

Channie: i can explain. i promise.

Channie: i just.. i need some time before i can

Channie: im such a fucking idiot. i'm so sorry babygirl. please. 

There are a million and one responses in your head, each with varying levels of confusion or annoyance. But, among the haze, the image of his exhaustion floats back to you, and you find yourself folding.

As usual.

You: breathe, Chan. it's ok. 

You: whatever it is, we'll figure it out, yeah?

You: i do wish you told me but. it's okay. I can wait for an explanation.

Channie: you're so amazing. i don't deserve you. 

Channie: i'll call you when you get out ok? i love u

The nurse comes back with the vitals cart and begins prepping materials before you can respond properly, so you send back a heart and slip your phone into your pocket. When the blood pressure cuff tightens around your arm, you wonder if the nurse will notice how fast your heart is beating – though you're not sure if it's from anxiety or the way Chan's voice cracked when he called you babygirl.

Maybe both.

To his credit, Chan truly does make it up to you, in the form of an extended weekend away at his parents’ cabin upstate. The invitation, or request rather, comes a couple days after the geneticist incident while you're in bed feeling anxious over your test results.

Channie: picking u up thursday night, we're going to my parents’ cabin till monday

Channie: had plans?

If anyone else were to text you like that, you'd balk at their audacity. But because it's Chan, there's a growing heat in your face when you simply reply:

You: no plans. promise you won't bail?

He sends you a picture of his already packed duffel bag and backpack sitting by his door, then another picture of him and his laptop that's clearly pulled up to Google Maps. His eyebrow is raised, sinfully plump lips pulled into a smirk as he points at the screen.

Channie: give me some creditt

Channie: im already packed and the route is already planned

You giggle, feeling the perpetual knot of nerves in your chest loosen. A weekend away with Chan sounds like the perfect thing. It'll be a way to get your mind off the maybes and anxieties from your appointment, and a way to spend time with your best friend. 

A win-win.

You spend the next few days packing and gathering supplies for a weekend at the cabin, which isn't as simple a task as it sounds. Chan is adamant that you worry about nothing except getting your stuff together, so he won't tell you what he has planned or what to pack. After losing many back and forth arguments, you toss a little bit of everything in your small suitcase, leaving your backpack for entertainment and snack purposes.

Thursday creeps up slowly, then all at once. Unfortunately, you wake up to deep pain in almost all of your joints– even your fingers seem to be screaming with every movement. Getting ready takes longer than you want, but you push through, and it isn't long before you're sitting on your living room couch, waiting for Chan to let you know to come out. It was a wonder what large amounts of Ibuprofen could do.

You hear the familiar puttering of his engine before his text even comes through, the soft ding of your phone cutting through your apartment.

Channie: i'm here babygirl

Channie: coming up to help w ur bags 

A warm flutter runs through your chest at his thoughtfulness. You're not sure you'll ever really get used to it. 

You push yourself up from the couch, breath hitching when the movement causes a dull ache to radiate down the length of your legs. You pause, gripping the arm of the couch and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment.

It's fine, you reason with yourself. It's not that bad. You're fine.

You're thankful that you had the foresight to pack a suitcase instead of a duffle, at least this way you'll have something to bear your weight on while you walk.

Your jacket is slipped over one shoulder when you hear the buzz from your doorbell. Chan's smiling face greets you when you open the door, looking both insanely handsome and–

“Am I shrinking, or are you growing?”

He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his massive chest, which is somewhat concealed by the oversized sweater he's wearing. You want to scold him for such a light outer layer in the bitter late autumn, but your words get stuck in your throat as you find yourself tilting your head up further than usual to look at him.

And then you give yourself the pleasure of really looking at him.

His hair is its usual wispy, beautiful mess. He cards his fingers through it as he looks at you, smiling as though about to say something, when suddenly his smile drops, his eyebrows furrowed as he stands up straight.

“You're in pain.”

It’s not a question.  He's providing the information to you as fact. You blink in surprise.

“Yes, I am, but how did you–”

"I can–” He cuts himself off, looking uncertain for a moment before shaking his head. "I just know you, babygirl. You're not putting much weight on your left leg, anyway."

Hm. He caught you there.

“How bad is it?”

You finish shrugging on your jacket. “Um, maybe six out of ten. But I took medicine, I should be– Are you sweating?”

It's a stupid question, because he is, and you don't need a verbal response to confirm it. Sweat is beating at his temples and dampening his hair. Something flickers across his face, but then his expression is back to normal again. 

You watch him flip through a million different responses in his mind, but before he settles on one, he spots your bags next to the door and goes to grab them, slinging your backpack over his shoulder with profound ease. He's moving so fast and he's so jittery that you barely get a second to process everything.

“Chan,” you finally say when he whizzes past you again to put your remote back in the organizer. He pauses, back stiffening like he's a little kid again about to be scolded. He turns to you slowly. “Are you okay?”

You watch him take a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body seeming to expand and contract. The unnatural stiffness in his body seems like he's forcing himself to stay still, and you see his finger drumming patterns on his thigh.

You repeat his name, softer this time. “What's wrong?”

He shakes his head a bit too fast. “No, nothing, I–” He runs his fingers through his hair, pausing to grip the roots to ground himself to this moment. It works for a second. “I'm… okay. I can explain everything later babygirl, I just… I really just want to focus on spending time with you.”

There's a raw edge to his voice that makes your chest tighten. You study his face, taking in the exhaustion, the sheen from sweat, the way his eyes won't meet yours. Every instinct screams that something is wrong, but…

“Okay,” you relent with a sigh. It should be embarrassing how easily you fold for him. It should maybe even be studied. “But you promise that you'll explain?”

He deflates, eyes brightening with relief. “I promise. Chris-Cross my heart.” He punctuates his sentence by putting his hand over his chest.

You can't help the smile that takes over your face at that– the reference to the silly rhyme you'd made up when you were kids based on his English name. A bit of the anxiety in your chest loosens. “Now let's go before the traffic gets unbearable.”

You grab your keys and headphones, giving your apartment one last glance over before following Chan out of the door. By the time you finish locking up, he's already halfway to the elevator, his abnormally long legs quickening his pace. As you try to catch up with him, you can't help but notice his stature– how his shoulders seem broad under his sweater, how he just seems… more.

The elevator ride to the parking garage under your apartment building is quiet, but not uncomfortably. Chan is humming something under his breath, his increasingly restless fingers tapping out the rhythm on his leg. Despite all of it, you feel relaxed. No matter what's going on, this is still your Chan, your person. 

He tosses your bags into his trunk with an ease that perks your entire body to attention. When you go to pull open the passenger door, he beats you to it, adding a dramatic flourish as he holds it open for you.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest.

In the passenger's seat is a small pink box with a label from your favorite bakery, alongside a nice variety of drinks in the cupholder. He's got a pair of fluffy slippers on the mat by your feet, too, and you can see on the dashboard he's turned the seat warmers on.

“Chan,” you breathe. Your heart is doing strange things in your chest, and you're either feeling extremely touched or about to pass out. “You didn't have to–”

“I wanted to.” You turn to look at him, and he's looking away, scratching the hair at the base of his neck. “Felt like an ass, you know, being so distant and weird. Needed to make it up to you.”

It's entirely unfair that he can just… say those things to you. He's your best friend, so of course he's affectionate– that's just how he's been since you met in third grade. What started with bringing extra GoGurts and tying your shoes when you broke your wrist has just now turned into spoiling you with cabin vacations and things you mention offhandedly that you like. 

No biggie.

He nudges you in the car playfully, making some lighthearted joke about him getting too soft on you. You can barely hear him over the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, choosing instead to follow his movements in the rear view mirror. You watch as he pauses by the trunk, carding a hand through his hair and taking a big breath, before eventually making his way over to the driver's seat. He tosses his phone to you, effectively putting you on music duty, and then you're on the road in a matter of minutes.

Time with Chan is always easy. You talk about any and everything for the first hour of the drive, including his job, your lack thereof, and your appointment, and he listens to every detail carefully. 

“So, they think it's a collagen issue?”

You nod, wiggling your feet in your new slippers as you shift your position. “They aren't entirely sure, but they're looking at collagen based connective tissue disorders, like Ehlers Danlos and Lupus. They think that could explain the other issues too.”

He looks contemplative as he peers around you to the mirror by your door, trying to merge into the next lane. “Are you scared?”

You shrug, body moving with the car. “Its.. complicated. On the one hand, it would be scary to receive a life changing diagnosis. On the other hand–”

“You're just happy to have answers.”

You nod again, taking a sip of the caramel latte he bought for you and wincing as you shift again. Long drives are always hard, but paired with the changes in the pressure as the two of you drive further into the mountains, your joints feel like they might disintegrate.

“Scale of one to ten?”

You blink. Chan hadn't taken his eyes off the road, so how could he have seen you shifting? You open your mouth, prepared to lie, but he glances at you with a single eyebrow raised. You sigh.

“Maybe a six,” you breathe.

“So the Ibuprofen didn't help?”

“It did, it's just wearing off.”

You put the latte back in the cup holder, using your hands to bear your weight as you try to find a comfy position to sit in. 

“What do you need, babygirl?”

You fight the shiver his voice sends down your spine. “Nothing. Well– I don't know. Maybe a nap? Is that okay?”

“‘Course it is. Here.”

With sinfully dexterous fingers, he reaches across your lap to recline your seat for you. You let him, body going still as his strong forearm helps ease you back with the chair. When you're comfortable, he reaches behind him to the floor of the backseat, fishing around until he produces–

“Is that your couch blanket?”

His answering grin is soft. “The one you've been threatening to steal? Yeah. Maybe.”

He drapes it over you skillfully, with you having to do very minimal adjusting. The familiar, homey smell of his apartment– warmth and something else very distinctly Chan – floods your senses and wraps you in the warmest hug. It feels like coming home.

You adjust yourself again, sleep wanting to come now that you're cozy, but the dull ache in your legs doesn't want to let go. Without warning, Chan's free hand slips under the blanket and finds the knee of the leg that hurts with amazing accuracy. His hand feels blazing hot through the fabric of your sweats as he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. 

“This okay, yeah?” he asks, his low voice a soothing sound to your ears. Words are caught in your throat, so you can only nod, but you don't miss how the pain starts to dissolve by his touch. You also try very hard not to think about how big his hand is on your knee.

“Get some rest, babygirl. I got you.”

The combination of his gentle touch, the music, and the smell of his blanket is making your eyelids heavy. As you finally drift off, a contented smile pulls at your mouth because no matter what, this is where you're meant to be. 

This is home.

Chan wakes you up about half an hour before you're expected to arrive. However, paired with delays, the pitch blackness of the mountains, and the general unrestrainedness of Murphy's Law, you were only now getting to the cabin at just past 1am. 

The cabin is beautiful, as always. It's nestled amidst a thick grove of evergreen trees, and its tall, warm wood exterior seems inviting even at the ungodly hour you two arrive. As he swings the car onto the gravel driveway, the headlights illuminate it, like it’s a secret just for the two of you.

“Cabin sweet cabin,” he murmurs as he kills the engine. He picks his phone up from the cup holder and gives it a few flicks, then suddenly the porch lights come on. You give a little stretch in your seat, your joints feeling pleasantly loose and mostly pain free– the nap worked wonders. 

The two of you pile out of the car, the fresh mountain air filling your nostrils. It smells like pine needles and freshwater, with an undercurrent of something wild and electric, like the air before a storm.

“Is it supposed to rain?”

Chan barely hears you, his antsyness now back full force. He's got both of your backpacks and his duffle bag slung over his shoulders, and he goes to grab your suitcase, but you appear by his side and pull it away from him. He blinks down at you, seeming surprised to see you there.

You tilt your head to the side. He still looks sweaty, and from where you're standing, it still seems like he's radiating an insane amount of heat. His breaths are labored, and you find yourself reaching over to rub your thumb over his hand. However, once your hands connect, he jumps and pulls away like you've shocked him.

At your hurt face, he tries to backtrack. “Static,” he supplies weakly. You say nothing, and the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Come on, let's get you out of the cold.”

You try not to jump to conclusions. At the end of the day, if something is really bothering him, if something is really wrong, Chan will tell you. He has always been the brooding type, but there is but so long he can keep things from you.

Still, no matter how much you try to take things at his pace, you keep seeing his face at the clinic: the deep bags under his eyes, the messy hair. The last time you looked into those eyes and saw that same pain, you were in a hospital bed hooked up to more monitors than you could count.

Chan had been brooding then too, refusing to leave your side, asking the doctors all the right questions, keeping your parents up to date when they had to go back home. You remember one night in particular, when you were chalk full of pain meds and falling asleep under the whirr of an oxygen mask, he'd stood at your bedside and rubbed his thumb over your forehead to soothe you. You couldn't speak, too exhausted and in pain to move in any capacity, but you didn't need to. He spoke to you the entire time about everything and nothing, switching his  murmuring to quiet comforts when you started to cry. Just before sleep took you under, you met his eyes– his exhausted, red rimmed eyes– and he gave you the softest, most tender look.

“We'll get through it, babygirl,” he had murmured. “You're gonna be okay. You'll come home.”

You did come home, of course, but that's when things became different. Chan was distant, constantly canceling plans, avoiding you.

You shake the memory from your head as you watch him fiddle with his keys in the lock. This weekend was meant to be about the two of you having fun. You could worry about everything else later.

Chan flicks on the overhead light in the living room area and the room floods with warmth. Everything looks just as familiar and homey as you recall.

Before you can take a good breath, he's got your bags and suitcase and is bounding up the stairs with them like they weigh nothing. You choose to busy yourself with getting comfortable, peeling off your coat and hanging it on the nearby hook.

You're tugging your hair back into a ponytail when he comes back down, and when you look up and spot him the scrunchie flies across the room.

He's taken off his hoodie, leaving him in a fitted white tee that does nothing to hide just how different his body looks. It's no secret that Chan works out, but he fills out this shirt like it was painted on him. You quickly pull your spare scrunchie from the other wrist to tie up your hair, trying not to dwell.

"Do you want me to put these in the kitchen?" you call out, holding up the bag of road trip leftovers.

"Yeah, just–" his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. "Just throw them on the counter. I'll organize everything later."

You pad into the kitchen, bare feet silent on the wooden floors. Everything is exactly as you remember it – the mismatched mugs in the cabinet, the worn wooden spoons in the ceramic holder, the string lights Chan installed last summer that give everything a soft glow. If you close your eyes, you could almost pretend nothing has changed.

Almost.

You find, unsurprisingly, that the cabinets and fridge are stocked full. Chan's parents likely came out to pack up some groceries when he told them you'd be coming. You find yourself leaning against an open cabinet, staring into space, your mind a million miles away.

"You okay, babygirl?”

You jump slightly – you hadn't heard him come up behind you. He's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, running his hands through his hair again, that restless energy still evident in every movement.

"Yeah, just..." you gesture vaguely around you. "Memories, you know?"

His expression softens, and for a moment he looks exactly like your Chan again. "Yeah, I know."

The moment stretches between you, comfortable and familiar, until your stomach decides to break it with an embarrassingly loud growl. Chan's laugh is startled but genuine.

"I don't remember that.” He jokes. “Hungry?"

You feel your cheeks heat. "Yeah, I think so.”

He starts rolling his sleeves up. “I could probably make some eggs and toast, if–.”

“It's one in the morning,” you scold him gently. “Nobody is cooking.”

He gives you a pout, which is comical considering his current stature, but you still feel a tug in your chest. “But–”

You shake your head, turning away from him so you don't relent. “No buts. We have tons of snacks. Help me find something.”

At your request, the two of you rummage through the drawers and cupboards. Everything either requires too much effort or won't agree with your stomach at this ridiculous hour. You're ready to call it quits and sleep for dinner when a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“Oh, can I have one of your protein bars? You always buy the good kind.”

His smile is soft, dimples catching the light in a way that makes his entire face seem like a dream. “Of course. They're in my backpack, next to the couch.”

You slide your way to his bag with an excited pep in your step. Chan, being who he is, always buys the amazingly expensive protein bars that manage not to taste like chalky disappointment. They're surprisingly filling, and you know they'll settle your stomach without causing a stomach ache.

You find his bag quickly in the low light of the room, squatting down to rifle through it. With your hand in the front pocket, you dig around until your fingers find something that feels like the protein bar box. In your hungry haze, you yank it out without thinking.

It is not the protein bar box.

Instead, it's a thick packet of paper. You go to put it back when the letter head of the genetic clinic you visited catches your eye, along with the words “After-Visit Summary”.

Maybe if your heart wasn't thrumming in your ears, you would've heard his panicked footsteps coming after you. But the only thing in your ears is the erratic beating of your heart, one that only gets worse when you turn the packet over and read the small words on the margin:

You were seen today for: Hormonal Changes. The following issues were addressed: Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome (Werewolf Gene).

You hear your name through the roaring in your ears. It's a soft, tentative sound that cracks around the edges. You turn, slowly, to see Chan almost right behind you, his face drained of all color and his eyes blown wide.

“Chan,” you breathe. You turn a bit more towards him, the packet still gripped in your hand. “What–”

"I can explain," he says quickly, desperately. His hands are shaking. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just– I needed time to–”

He trails off, looking around the room as though looking for someone to help him.

Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome.

You came across this condition when you were researching the clinic, as they mentioned that they were the only place in the area that had the facilities to test for it. It was, as the paper put it, the werewolf gene. People with the condition experienced heightened senses of smell, increased strength, sensory sensitivities– they were werewolves, just without the whole full moon transformation thing.

To say the condition was rare was an understatement. Both parents had to be carriers for the trait, and even then it only occurred in 25% of those births.

And Chan happened to be one of them.

Everything clicks into place now. The sudden growth spurt, the feverishly hot skin, how he knows when you're in pain without you saying a word.

“This is why you were at the clinic,” you say softly. It's not a question.

He nods jerkily, still looking like he might bolt at any second. You stand up to take a step toward him and he actually backs away.

“Don't,” he breathes. “I'm… I don't want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” You almost laugh. “Chan, you're not going to hurt me. How could you think that?”

“No, you don't understand,” he cards his hands through his hair, pausing to tug on the roots. “I can't… I don't know how to control myself yet. I'm different now, I'm–”

“Still Chan.”

The sound he makes is painful. “You can't say that,” he breathes. His hands drop to his sides again. “You don't know what it's like.”

“So tell me," you urge. You move as though you're about to take another step towards him, and your heart drops at how his entire body flinches. “Chan. Chris. Christopher. Look at me please.”

The use of his full name does something to him, and you watch as he settles, eyes drifting over to you slowly. His gaze is intense, and in the dim light of the living room, you feel akin to a deer staring down a wolf, no pun intended. 

It does not frighten you the way it should.

“Talk to me, please,” you beg. “You're my best friend. I'm here for you, always.”

“I can smell when you're in pain,” he grits out. It's not what you're expecting to hear. He clenches a hand into a fist, then lets it go. “You usually smell sweet, like caramel and linen. But then your scent gets an undercurrent of something harsh, like burnt sugar and metal, and I… I feel like–”

He lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he cuts himself off. “I can't control my strength. I've broken so much shit around the apartment. Don't wanna touch you. Don't wanna break you.”

“You won't hurt me.” You take the opportunity to get closer, but he must smell the closing distance because his eyes fly open. You're in front of him before he can move. “Do you know why?”

Chan's breaths are ragged and labored. “Why?”

“Because you're still my Chan. Still the guy who's been taking care of me since elementary school. Still the person I trust most in the world."

His breath hitches. "How can you say that? How can you just... accept this?"

You can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Chan, I'm literally at the same genetic clinic getting tested for a collagen disorder. Did you think I wouldn't understand what it's like to have your body change in ways you can't control?"

That seems to catch him off guard. He turns away, a frown tugging at his lips. "That's... that's different.”

“Is it though?” You pretend to be thoughtful. “Last I checked, it's like both of our bodies are changing in ways we don't understand. Like we both have to navigate a new normal.”

"That's exactly why I–" he cuts himself off, running both hands through his hair. "I can't risk hurting you. Not when you're already..."

"Already what?" You challenge, taking one final step. You're close enough now that you have to tilt your head back to look at him properly. "Already broken?”

His face twists up like you've punched him in the stomach. “No! God, no. When you're already going through so much.”

“A lot of what I'm going through is a waiting game, Chan– waiting for test results, waiting for appointments at specialists. You don't have to keep things from me because of that.”

You poke him in his side, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, this? Finding out you're a werewolf–”

“The correct term is Lycanthropy Syndrome–”

“-- This is the kind of stuff that keeps me grounded. Having other things to think about. Having you around.”

You watch the tension slowly bleed from his shoulders, almost as though he's deflating. There's obviously more he isn't telling you– you can see it in the way his eyes still can't seem to meet yours– but you don't push it. He's already said so much.

“So,” you start. You rock back and forth on your feet. “Can I make werewolf puns now?”

He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you pawsitive?”

He groans at that, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “You're the worst. I'm gonna leave you here and go home.”

But he's laughing anyway, his usual giggle that makes everything seem like it'll be alright. You beam at him. and your body lights aflame when he smiles back down at you softly. The two of you hold eye contact for a second, and you watch something untraceable flash in his eyes. Before you can even process it, he's looking away again and clearing his throat.

Another silence falls between you, but this one is different. Chan is fidgeting again, his fingers drumming against his thigh in that restless way you've noticed all evening. He's looking everywhere but at you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

"What is it?" you ask softly.

He opens his mouth once. Twice. Three times– words seem to be failing him again. You raise an eyebrow and he sighs, a sheepish smile on his big stupidly handsome face.

"Can we..." he starts, then stops. Starts again. "Would it be okay if we... like we used to..."

You wait patiently as he struggles with the words. His ears are turning red again.

"Can we share my bed?" he finally gets out in a rush. "Like– like when we were kids? Just for tonight. I just... I haven't been sleeping well since everything started and I… um…”

Your brain short circuits as the request processes.

Share… a bed. With Chan. Taller, wider, more muscular Chan. Chan whose body heat seeps through every layer of clothing. Chan whose one hand can cover your knee easily. 

From the way your body reacts, your knee jerk reaction is to say no. He's already going through enough, and Lord knows what types of degenerate scent you'd be giving off if you spent an entire night with him.

But when you open your mouth to decline, you notice how he's standing, with his shoulders curved inward, trying to make himself smaller. His big brown eyes are pleading, almost desperate, and you think about how scared he was earlier, how convinced he was that you'd reject him once you knew the truth.

Fuck it.

“Of course, Channie.”

The smile on his face is nervous, like he expects you to change your mind any second. “Yeah?”

You nod, ignoring the way your brain tries to supply you with images of everything you want to have happen. "Yeah. Just... let me get changed first?"

He nods quickly, that restless energy back but different now – excited rather than anxious. "Yeah! Yes. Your stuff is in your room, yeah? I'll be in mine when you're ready."

He's bounding up the stairs before you can say anything. You take the moment alone to take a deep breath. You can do this. It's just Chan. Just your best friend.

When you reach your room, you duck into the attached bathroom to change quickly, opting for the full top and bottom PJ set rather than the oversized hoodie you were originally going to wear. You stare at your reflection, willing yourself to calm down and look normal.

Sharing a bed with Chan is not a new concept. When you'd first gotten close in grade school, the two of you tended to hop from house to house, sleeping wherever without a care in the world. The habit continued as you grew up– in college during study sessions, during movie marathons on school breaks, that one time a few months ago when you'd gotten terribly drunk at your friend Jeongin's birthday party. It had never been anything more than two friends seeking each other's comfort.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again, face flushed and breathing ragged. You force yourself to calm down– if Chan could smell when you were in pain, he could probably smell the indecency coming off of you in waves. 

Everything is fine.

When you reach the doorway of the master bedroom, Chan is already in bed scrolling on his phone. You watch his nostrils flare for a second, eyes fluttering shut as he puts his phone on the night stand.

The king sized bed looks both too big and too small.

When he opens his eyes, he looks surprised to see you. and you watch red start to tint his neck. “Um. Hey,” he breathes.

You hover in the doorway, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you. "Hey."

Chan shifts, pulling back the covers on what has always been 'your' side of the bed “Um. Do you want... I mean, we usually..." He trails off, looking everywhere but directly at you.

You take the initiative and move towards the bed, sliding down under the covers until they reach just under your chin. Chan shuffles next to you, scooting this way and that, flipping like a hot dog on a stick. You both settle on your back eventually, staring up at the ceiling.

“This is weird,” he says after a few minutes of strained silence.

“Not weird,” you supply. “Just… different.”

“Different…,” he murmurs. “Different because I'm different?”

You almost laugh. “Chan, what? No–”

He's sliding out from under the covers before you can finish. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– this was dumb to ask.” You ignore the way your heart drops. “I'll go sleep in the other room. Or on the couch. Or–”

You grab at his wrist before he can go anywhere. He doesn't jerk away this time, but his entire body goes rigid. You rub your thumb along the pulse point on his wrist.

“You don't have to leave,” you say slowly. “It’s not weird because you're different. It's weird because we're both over thinking it.”

He lets out a little breath. “We are, aren't we?”

"Yeah." You squeeze his wrist once before letting go. He settles back down into the bed, still looking a bit uncomfortable, but not ready to run anymore. 

You smile at him before holding open the cocoon you made in the blanket. "Come here, you big baby."

"I resent that," he grumbles, but there's a smile tugging at his lips.

It takes some maneuvering to find a comfortable position. Chan is hesitant at first, careful not to crowd you, but eventually you manage to guide him until his head is tucked under your chin, his arm draped carefully over your middle. His body curls around yours despite the size difference, like he's trying to make himself smaller again. When he finally settles, it feels like every part of him is contoured to fit you perfectly.

You ignore the heat in your stomach.

The silence that settles around you is comfortable now, broken only by your breathing beginning to sync up. His body weight is grounding, and the heat he's radiating feels like the world's best heating pad. 

You're just beginning to doze off when Chan makes a low, displeased grunt in the back of his throat. You can feel his eyebrows scrunch together where he's pressed against your collarbone.

“Your hip,” he murmurs.

“Hm?”

He shifts in your hold, maneuvering you until his other hand can slide under your body to wrap around you. “Your hip hurts. Or it's about to start.”

Sleepiness has made you a pliant, barely conscious little thing. You're about to ask how he can tell when his big, warm hand presses against your hip, heat radiating through the fabric until it settles deep into your bones. You can't help but let out a little whimper from the immediate relief it gives you.

Chan makes another sound in his throat, grip increasing on you almost infinitesimally. 

“This good, babygirl?”

“Mmf.”

The warmth and relaxation is muddling your brain. “S'good, Channie.”

He makes a more pleased sound and nuzzles closer. Sleep takes you quickly after that, and all you can think about as you finally succumb is how lucky you are to have him here with you. You'd love to say as much, but you're too tired to open your mouth, so you give him the tiniest of squeezes, hoping he understands.

From the way his arm tightens around you, you think he does.

Things seem less charged in the morning.

You wake up to sunlight glittering through the curtains and the other side of the bed empty. The sheets are still warm, but given what you've come to learn about Chan and his temperature, he could've left the bed anywhere from three seconds to four hours ago.

You stretch a little bit as you try to wake up fully, heading to the other bedroom to freshen up for the day. It seems like an okay day pain-wise. You're at a steady three out of ten everywhere except your hands, but you brush it off. With the way you sleep, your hands take longer to catch up to the lower pain levels in the rest of your body. It's just a matter of time. 

Still, you run them under warm water in the bathroom, hoping to loosen them up.

When you finally emerge, you follow the mouthwatering scent of cooking down the stairs and into the kitchen. After a nonexistent dinner, you're starved, and you could really go for some food right now.

You pause in the archway of the kitchen.

Food is… an understatement.

Chan stands at the stove, spatula in hand and preparing to flip what looks like an omelette. All around him on the counters are various other breakfast foods: scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, hashbrowns, fruit–

“When did you have time to make a sourdough starter?”

He startles slightly, turning to face you with a sheepish smile. “Ah… good morning, babygirl. I may have.. gone a bit overboard.”

“A bit?” You slide into a seat at the edge of the kitchen island in the one spot where there's no food. “If you were planning to invite the woodland creatures you could've given me a heads up, I'd be decent.”

The responding huff makes you smile. “I cannot communicate with animals. Weirdo.” Chan grins. He folds the omelette in half and flips it over. “I just… I got hungry.”

You sneak a piece of bacon off of a nearby plate and snort. “‘Hungry’ seems like a gross understatement. Is this a side effect?”

Chan's ears turn pink as he plates the omelette. "Yeah, actually. My metabolism is... different now. Food tastes different too– more intense." He starts moving dishes to the kitchen island, careful not to overcrowd your space. "Everything is more intense, really."

"Like what?"

He hums thoughtfully as he settles into the chair next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. "Smells are the biggest thing. Like, I can smell everything. The coffee brewing, the bacon grease in the air, the rain that's coming later–"

"It's going to rain?"

"Yeah, probably this afternoon." He passes you a fork and a plate you never noticed him constructing. "I can smell it in the air. What’s the word? Petrichor, but... before the rain actually falls? If that makes sense.”

You hum around a fork full of eggs, cracking the fingers on your free hand. “That sounds like it can get miserable. Is everything just… enhanced all the time?”

He takes a bite out of a chunk of toast, making a so-so motion with his hand. “It's enhanced all the time, but the way it is right now, the intensity, that’s only sometimes. Only during–”

He cuts himself off, swallowing his bite of toast with more power than necessary. 

“During the full moon?” You supply.

He nods quickly. “Yeah.”

There's a lull in the conversation that you try not to read into. It doesn't take much effort anyway, because you notice that eating is taking more effort than it was a few minutes ago. Your grip on the fork is weird, and you can't seem to close your fingers all the way around it.

That's fine, you think to yourself. You switch hands. Everything is fine.

You try not to let the revelation sour your mood. Chan mentioned it was going to rain, and while your doctors didn't know why you were in pain, they knew what kinds of things made it worse, and the air pressure changes from rain was one of them. This was just something you had to learn to deal with now.

Resentment for your condition rises in your chest with the little bit you've eaten, and you take a sip of apple juice to swallow it down. It's not fair. People your age were doing things like mountain climbing, running marathons, just living. And here you were, struggling to feed yourself and hold a fork.

It's fine.

A hand on your shoulder pierces through the dense clouds shrouding your mind, and you feel yourself startle a little. Chan is facing you, leaning his impossibly tall torso down to look you right in your eyes. His gaze is intense, gold flecks in his eyes swimming around as he stares.

“What hurts,” he breathes. The sound of his voice is light as a feather, floating through the air before coming to rest gently on your lips. 

“My hands.”

“Scale of one to ten?”

You think about saying your number, but upon remembering how nice and easy conversation was this morning, you decide to lie. “Four.”

The look in Chan’s eyes grows more intense, and you swallow around nothing. He levels you with a very unimpressed look, eyebrows creasing and his plushy, pink lips frowning. He only says two words, but they send a ripple through your body anyway:

“Try again.”

Fuck. You're giving yourself whiplash. Jumping from frustration to stark arousal was an Olympics level move your brain wasn't prepared for. There's a different kind of haze clouding your mind now.

“It's a seven,” you breathe. 

He's up on his feet before you can fully compose yourself, long legs taking him up the stairs and bringing him back down in a matter of seconds. When he sits down again, he's holding your decorative medication pouch and a mini water bottle from your backpack.

You gulp at the way the veins in his arm bulge.

“Which bottle is it?”

You come back to yourself, licking your incredibly dry lips before you respond. It takes a blink or two before you can orient yourself in the present. “Um, red bottle. The tall one.”

He places the bottle and water in front of you in a gentle way that contrasts the energy in the room. You fumble with the child proofing for a second before he plucks the bottle from you, undoing the lid with one hand.

Wow. Fuck.

"Thanks," you mumble, accepting the pills he tips into your palm. His hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck as you swallow them, and you try not to shiver at the contact.

“Do you need a nap while the pills work?”

You pout, finally coming back to your good senses. “We're supposed to have a movie marathon today.”

“I didn't realize the TV had a flight to catch?”

You glare at him, albeit thankful for the teasing sarcasm to loosen the tension. “You're not funny.”

Chan's lips pull into a smirk and he gives a little shrug. “I think I am.”

You roll your eyes at him as he stands, coming over to you and easing you out of your seat. He gives a little ‘tsk’ at your faux attitude, but his hands are back on your shoulders, guiding you towards the couch. When you finally do lay down, he's already throwing his signature couch blanket over you, tucking it around you securely.

“Comfy?”

You are, but you've also realized he's tricked you into a nap, so you do the adult thing and mock him before sticking your tongue out at him.

“Wow,” he murmurs. He slides down the couch and onto the floor. “I haven't seen that routine since 4th grade.”

You watch as he adjusts his legs a few times, his head resting against the armrest right by your fingers. It’s unspoken, but you know that he'll stay until he's sure you're asleep. 

"You don't have to sit on the floor," you murmur. "There's plenty of room up here."

He shakes his head. "Nah. I'm good here.”

You watch his side profile for a minute, basking in all of his Chan-ness. He settles in a bit more and lets his eyes flutter closed. When he does, he leans his head back a little more, and you watch the delicate bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. 

“Chan?” Your mouth is moving before you know it. 

“Hm?”

“Were you scared? When you… got the diagnosis?”

His eyes open at that, and he turns his head so he can look at you. The intensity from earlier is gone, replaced by that familiar warmth that only he has.

There's a beat of silence where all Chan does is stare, almost as if seeing you for the first time. It passes, though, and then he goes back to his previous position, eyes closed again as he speaks. “No,” he says finally. “I wasn't scared. The only thing I thought about was you.”

“Me?”

He nods against the couch. “They kept talking about what it meant and all of that, and all I could think about was how on earth I was going to tell you.”

You reach a hand over and start rubbing at his scalp in the familiar way you've always done. “And yet,” you tease gently. “I had to accidentally find the papers.”

He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, leaning into your hand. “That wasn't the plan,” he murmurs. “Was supposed to tell you properly.”

You stay quiet, continuing to play with his hair. The quiet domesticity is comforting, and you find your eyes fluttering closed too. 

You move your fingers through his hair in nonsensical patterns and shapes, occasionally letting your nails graze his scalp. His breathing evens out eventually--he's not sleeping, no, just content and peaceful. You're a different story, though, and medication induced drowsiness starts flowing its way through your body.

Your movements grow slower and uncoordinated, hand drifting lower, and lower, until eventually your fingers trail to the nape of his neck. When you drag your nails across the sensitive skin there, Chan makes a sound that shoots straight through you and straight to your core– something between a pleased hum and a growl that vibrates through his entire body.

Both of you freeze. Your heart starts doing gymnastics in your chest while the sound echoes in your ears, making your body grow hot. Beneath you, Chan is rigid, like every muscle has been pulled taut.

The room is entirely still for a second. Then, he clears his throat a little, shifting himself so you have better access. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Keep going. Feels nice.”

You force your fingers to move again, continuing their exploration and tracing the curls on Chan's head. 

You repeat your mantra in your mind:

Everything is fine.

The moment passes like a summer storm– intense and fleeting– and soon Chan is relaxed again, practically melting under your touch. You're actively fighting sleep now but you're realizing it's a losing battle. Your movements become slower, less deliberate, until your hand is simply resting in his hair.

"Sleep, babygirl," he murmurs, voice thick and honeyed. "I got you.”

So you do.

When you wake up a bit later, you find yourself, sadly, alone.

In place of Chan's thick curls is the cold rectangular slab that is your cell phone. You squint at it sleepily, not remembering bringing it down with you for breakfast or having it on the couch. You flick through the unlock process, and when your phone opens, it's on the notes app.

Hi babygirl. If you're reading this, I went to the store. We don't have any vegetables. I'll try to be quick. - Channie

You wipe sleep from your eyes as you sit up, trying to orient yourself in your surroundings. You hear the steady whooshing of the rain outside and carefully flex all of your joints. You're content to find that you're at a steady three out of ten everywhere.

You settle back into the couch cushions, pulling the blanket around you tighter. It's not scary to be by yourself, especially not in the cabin,  but Chan's presence is definitely missed. You decide to fill the silence with television, something low stakes and stupid that you can listen to while you scroll on your phone.

However, the microscopic roku remote has decided to go missing, and after digging through the couch cushions twice, you sit back with a huff. You suppose your phone will do for now.

You open YouTube with the intent to watch one of your favorite Let's Play videos, but as you scroll through your homepage, something catches your eye. The title makes you pause:

Q&A: Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome (aka The Werewolf Gene)

The algorithm strikes again, you suppose.

The video was posted a little over a month ago and has a substantial amount of views and comments. The creator themselves has well over 100k subscribers. It looks perfectly legit. Before you can overcomplicate it and talk yourself out of it, you press play.

“Hi everyone!” The guy on the video has a soft, smiling face, accented by round, thin-rimmed glasses. “Welcome or welcome back to my channel. If you're new here, I'm Seungmin, and I have GLS, which stands for Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome. Or, to put it simply, I have the werewolf gene.”

You are immediately invested.

“I set up a question box on Instagram a couple days ago, and you guys really went to town.” Seungmin chuckles. “So I'll answer a few of those in this video.”

The first few questions are simple enough– what made him suspect he had it, the diagnostic process, how his family reacted. He answers every question thoughtfully and thoroughly in a way that makes you learn more than you thought you needed to.

You're writing down the fact that people with GLS tend to need more red meat than dark meat in their diet when he starts reading out the next question. 

“@jutdae asks, ‘how does the enhanced sense thing not drive you crazy?’” Seungmin lets out a little laugh. “So, the sense thing is kind of tricky for non-GLS people to understand. On a regular day, it might be enhanced, but maybe only 50% better than most people. The real issue is when rut or heat cycles start.”

You drop your phone, cursing when it slips right into the couch cushions.

“During a rut–” Seungmin's muffled voice continues as you fish around for your phone. “-- it's probably around 150% better. And our body temperature will skyrocket, like a constant fever type. The extra sensory input can cause a lot of restless energy too, so we're always feeling like we want to crawl out of our skin. Thankfully ruts, or heats for AFAB people, only happen once every three months, for about a week.”

You finally find your phone, heart pounding as you fumble to hold it still. The boy on your screen adjusts his glasses before continuing, entirely unaware how he's just flipped your life on its head.

“Well, that's for people who've presented for a while. When you first present with symptoms, you can get your rut every month. And that's… an entirely different type of intense. I surely don't miss that.”

Your brain might be oozing out of your ears.

You don't need to Google what a rut cycle is. You already know. It's the one aspect of GLS everyone is familiar with.

You scan through the events of the last 36 hours with unfathomable speed. It's all there. Every single symptom mentioned in this video. 

Extremely heightened senses. Restless energy. Fever-hot skin. 

Chan.

Chan hasn't been able to sit still. Chan's skin is hot to the touch. Chan keeps telling you when your pain is about to start because he can smell it. Chan brought you to an isolated cabin in the mountains.

Chan is in rut. Chan's diagnosis was only finalized less than a week ago. Ergo, this is his first rut.

The sound of a car door slamming makes you jump so hard that your phone flies away from the couch and skitters onto the floor.

Shit.

You scramble to grab it, swiping out of the video before Seungmin finishes answering what you're certain are other life changing questions. You can't hear anything he's saying, laser focused on the sound of Chan's impending footsteps and the sound of rustling grocery bags.

“Babygirl,” Chan's voice vibrates from the entryway. “I'm back. You awake?”

“Yeah,” you call, forcing yourself to sound steady. You clear your throat. “Yes, I'm up.”

You hear him put the bags down and toe off his sneakers, socked feet padding into the room where you are, undoubtedly, staring like a ghost came through the door and robbed you of your possessions. You fight to fix your expression into something normal, but all of that goes out the window when he steps into the threshold.

He's soaked. The rain has soaked through his shirt, making it cling to his chest and highlight every cut of his muscle. His curls are wild, some of them plastered to his forehead while others seem to be competing for the best pose. There's water dripping down his neck an–

You find a spot on the wall to look at instead. 

“Sorry I took so long.” He brushes his hair off of his face. “The store closest was closed, had to run way into town.”

“It's fine,” you squeak. He looks at you, eyebrows furred. “I was fine, just watched some YouTube. I wasn't up for long.”

He tilts his head, studying you with his nearly impossibly dark eyes. His lips push up, almost like he's pouting, but you watch as confusion takes over his gaze. He squints, and you burrow yourself further into the couch. If his smell is heightened, then he probably–

“You okay?”

You nod too enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. Why?”

He opens his mouth to say something, moves his body as though he'll take a step towards you, but he stops. You hold eye contact for a second, feeling small and exposed among his gaze. But then he nods almost imperceptibly, turning to grab his wet sweater from the entrance. 

“I'm gonna get changed and make us some lunch. Sandwiches?”

You nod.

“Good. Find us something to watch, yeah?”

As soon as he's gone up the stairs, you collapse back onto the couch, pressing your hands against your burning cheeks.

Okay. Okay.

You're probably– definitely – making this weird. Maybe you've read too many werewolf romance novels. Chan is going through something a lot more tangible than turning into a wolf and scampering off into the moonlight, and here you are, being a degenerate as usual. He brought you here because you're his best friend. Because he needs support.

The rut thing… is just a coincidence. Or maybe not even a big deal, or something he wants you to worry about. Yes. That's it. 

Distantly, you hear the shower turn on, and everything from your neck to the crown of your head lights aflame.

The remote chooses that moment to reappear, launching itself from the couch blanket and onto the floor. You snatch it up quickly, flicking on the TV and navigating to Netflix. You need something light. Something stupid. Something to fizzle out the charged energy in the atmosphere.

He'll handle himself… however that may be. You repeat this to yourself as you scroll through the comedy section, eyes blurring at the words in front of you. It's none of your business, anyway. You have one job right now, and that's finding something to watch.

You settle on a cooking show when you hear him coming down the stairs again. You focus on the TV, your mantra echoing around your skull as though you have no brain.

Everything is fine. You're fine. He's fine. 

“Worst Cooks in America?”

You nearly jump out of your skin. He's standing behind the couch, now wearing dry clothes– a zip up sweatshirt and loose sweats. You notice, entirely by accident, that there's no shirt under the sweater. Just plain, exposed skin.

Great. 

You hum out a noncommittal answer, just as he turns and heads to the kitchen, mentioning as he goes that he's using roast beef.  You listen to the sound of the fridge opening and the hum of the toaster as he plugs it in, no doubt solely to put your bread to toast, the same way you've eaten a sandwich since you were eight years old.

You can do this. You can act normal. You're an adult, and you have been for a few years. Things don’t have to be weird just because you now know that your best friend is a delicate, walking bundle of hormones. Chan clearly trusts you enough to have you here, and you're not going to mess that up by being a disaster about it.

You hear him humming in the kitchen, puttering about through the cabinets, the clink of plates on the counter. It's so normal, so Chan, that it almost makes you forget about everything else.

You shake your head, hoping to physically dislodge the memories of the noise he made when you were scratching his neck– the deep, rumbling groan that ran through your sleep-riddled body until stopping to wake you up where you're most sensitive. It was just a noise, you make noises all the time.

When he appears in the doorway with the two plates, all smiles and soft around the edges, you take a deep breath before returning the smile. 

You can do this. You can sit down next to Chan and watch the show and be normal. Everything is fine.

Probably.

… Maybe.

Everything is not fine.

The realization comes later in the night when the darkness from the storm bleeds into the darkness of late evening. It's nearing 10pm, and you and Chan are still seated on the couch together, now on opposing sides, still watching the same cooking show.

Or pretending to.

Chan seemed to be getting worse as the evening progressed. When he first came in from outside, he seemed calmer, less tense, but now he was sitting rigid, wound up like a toy no one would release. He was sweating an almost ridiculous amount, and the zip from his hoodie was pulled down to the middle of his stomach, exposing all the skin underneath.

His breaths were coming in short pants now. He had a steady grip on the fabric of his sweats, and you were almost certain that he'd tear a hole in them with the way he was grabbing them.

You weren't sure what to do.

You had tried nudging him with your foot gently a while ago, but when your skin made contact, he made another low sound in his throat that shot right up your leg and into your core. You pulled your foot away quickly, apologizing, making sure to press your knees together so the scent of arousal wouldn't reach him. 

And that was before he had started panting like… well, a dog. Now you weren't sure you'd be able to reach him through the fog of his own mind even if you screamed right in his face.

You're about to try saying something, anything as the episode that was playing ends, but he shoots up off the couch before you can think of words to say. He's pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, visibly shaking with the effort of breathing normally.

“Chan,” you start.

He holds up a hand. “I'm– I'm okay,” he breathes. 

He's not. 

“The rain, I think,” he grits out. “Too loud. Too much. You're okay, though?”

Of course Chan would find the time to check on you while going through his own crisis. You sit up a little on the couch, staring at him even though he has his eyes covered. The words are coming out of your mouth before you can even think about what you're saying: “Do I smell okay?”

He grunts. You suddenly understand why cavepeople had so many kids. 

“Smell fine,” he breathes. He slides his hands down his face, fixing his gaze away from you. “You do, I mean. You smell good.”

It dawns on you then that maybe the newly awakened wolf-like part of his consciousness is reacting to your smell because you're a girl, and he's in a rut. Maybe you should leave the room, give him some space?

You're trying to find a way to ask if that's what he needs without giving away what you know, but he fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie again, wanting to tug it down some more. He stops, takes a deep breath, and then drops his hand.

“I think I need a second,” he says. His hands are twitching at his side. “Need my room. Need the quiet, yeah?”

You nod. That's fine. It's for the best anyway, right?  “That's okay. You can come back when you're ready.”

He nods, still not looking at you. There's a moment where he seems to hesitate, but whatever internal war he's having ends quickly, and he basically runs up the stairs. Just before you hear his door close, you hear the sound of his hoodie zipping down all the way.

Heat floods your face as you turn back to the show.

After a while of still failing to really pay attention, you pull your phone out from under the blanket. Despite the pure, unfiltered desire thrumming through your veins, you still want to help Chan. It's bothering you how bothered he is, how helpless he seems. There has to be something you can do for him.

You type, How to help a werewolf in a rut into your search bar, and after realizing very quickly that that's actually the title of an erotica series, you change your search to something more medical sounding.

It takes trial and error, but GLS and Rut Cycles Help seems to give you the best results.

You find a forum on a website dedicated to rare genetic disorders. It’s the one link that seems to have real information, ironically nestled between a fanfiction website and Twitter. 

You stop on a thread that catches your attention:

Non-GLS Roommate Here: Any way I can help with heats?

Not in that way, they write. But my roommate just presented with this disorder and she's absolutely miserable, and I feel so bad. I'm not trying to fuck her, but is there anything I can do to help?? Meds? Chocolate?? Leaving her alone??

There are only a handful of responses, mostly people lol-ing about how non-lycanthropes always think a heat cycle is like a period. One answer sticks out to you:

if it's her first heat, she's probably running a pretty high temp. make her some cold drinks to bring the temperature down and the hormones may follow. that used to work for me. ideally, try to convince her to take a cold shower, but her instincts might be telling her not to. it's a delicate game lol. don't press the shower thing if you don't want her to bite. like, literally. AFAB lycanthropes have a thing for biting idk

It makes sense now why Chan looked better when he came in from the rain. It was, essentially, the cold shower that he needed. You wonder briefly if you could convince him to go back out, but you decide against it. It's dark now, and you don't need him getting hurt.

So, instead, you peel yourself away from the couch and head into the kitchen. There's tons of juice cartons already in the fridge, but you bypass them, instead grabbing the bag of lemons and the carton of blueberries. 

The first time you made lemonade for Chan, the two of you were in fifth grade. You wanted to save money for the new and extremely expensive ride-on jeep that you saw in the store, and the only thing you could think to do was sell lemonade. You forced Chan (who had no interest in the car but wanted to help anyway) to sit down and taste batch after batch of your lemonade.

After he threatened to tell your parents you were trying to poison him, you made one last batch of the lemonade, and on a whim, dumped some blueberry syrup into it. He grumbled as he took the cup, but he couldn't hide his satisfied smile.

“That's the one,” he grinned. 

You never did save the money for the car, but you kept the lemonade recipe anyway. There was nothing your blueberry lemonade couldn't fix.

And you were prepared to add rut fevers to that list.

You dump a ton of ice in Chan's reusable water bottle before pouring the lemonade over it, putting the top on and swirling it around. You take a sip first, nodding in contentment when it nearly freezes the back of your throat.

With your phone in your back pocket and the lemonade in hand, you make your way up the stairs, pausing in front of Chan's bedroom door. A feeling of nervousness washes over you, but you beat it down with a stick. You're just delivering some lemonade. You'll be fine.

“Channie,” your voice is tentative as you knock. “You okay? I brought you a surprise.”

You listen carefully. You can't hear anything on the other side of the door. You don't wanna bang or yell, knowing his ears are probably sensitive already. You knock gently again, really straining your ears to hear.

He must be asleep, you think. You'll just leave the cup on the nightstand for him to find when he wakes up. You turn the doorknob and push open the door and–

Subsequently drop the cup on the floor.

Chan is not asleep.

Chan is very much awake.

He can't see you, no, because his eyes are closed and his head is tipped back against the headboard of his bed. His face and ears are red, and his lips are extra plump. You wonder why until he bites down on his bottom lip, hard.

You let your eyes trail down. He's touching himself.

Oh.

One of his hands is wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously like it's just not enough. The other hand is white knuckling the pillow you slept on last night, bringing it up to his face so he can no doubt inhale whatever leftover scent is on it. 

He has no idea that you're in the room. The pillow is already carrying your scent, so there's no intrusion to his senses. You should look away. You should go, you should…

You can't look away.

His hips are thrusting upwards to meet his hand now, his entire body writhing on the bed like he's trying to find the perfect spot. With his sweater open, you can see the contraction of his ab muscles as he moves, all the hard contours of his body chasing his pleasure. You watch as he twists his wrist, thumb sliding across the slit of his cock and smearing precum down the shaft. 

You hear him make a sound, almost like he's grunting, and then he's mumbling something under his breath. It's low, too low for you to really hear it, but when he speaks again, you definitely understand.

"Babygirl," he groans. He squeezes his cock at the base before stroking it again. "F-fuck, babygirl."

It's then that you squeak, slamming a hand over your mouth almost immediately. His eyes fly open and he shoots up, face panicked, but he doesn't stop moving his hand.

"I'm-- I'm sorry," you manage. "I came to-- I just-- Oh my God."

Chan's eyes are wild as he looks at you. His chest is heaving and his curls are sticking up all over the place. He looks pained and conflicted, likely warring within himself about whether he should stop or not. From the way his ears turn a deep shade of red, you can tell he thinks that he should.

He doesn't, though. He's still jacking himself off, faster and faster, even as he gives you a devastatingly desperate look.

"Fuck," he grunts. "I'm sorry. I can't-- you just smell so fucking good and I–” He pants, looking at you with eyes that can barely stay open. “I can't stop. Babygirl, make me stop."

Your brain is malfunctioning, but the part of it that can still process information has taken notice of what he's saying. You were right earlier. It's your smell. Your smell is driving him crazy because you're a fertile, childbearing aged female. It's not poorly contained last or a bad decision on his part.

It's biology. It's what that primal part of his brain needs.

Your body goes hot as you think of your next words.

"You..." you swallow around nothing. You're wearing socks, but the cold from the floor seems to seep into your feet. "You don't– um. Do you… need help?”

His pupils blow.

"I don't… I don't want to hurt you," he whines, chest heaving as his fist pumps faster. "You shouldn't."

"But I want to help," you breathe. You take a step closer to the bed, legs shaking from the sheer intensity of how fast your arousal hits. "What if I want to help?"

He stops then, staring at you with the same intensity he had last night. You feel stripped, exposed, but you don't feel unsafe.

You take another step closer.

"Chan," you whisper. You're at the foot of the bed now. "What if I want to?"

He makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat.

"I won't… touch you if you don't want me to." You take another step to the side of the bed, feeling somewhat bold under his gaze. "But I'll... I'll let you touch me, if you need. Whatever you want. Just... just tell me what to do."

You're only a couple steps away now. Chan is practically shaking with the effort it takes not to move, to wait for your permission. It's then that you realize he's waiting for you to make the first move, and all of the power shifts to you.

You're standing right next to him now, the two of you locked in an intensely heated gaze. He reaches for you silently with the hand not fisted around his cock, moving slowly like you'll dissolve if he's too eager. When you nod, his hand slides down the length of your arm, fingers interlacing.

Then–

"Please," he whispers. His voice cracks on the lone syllable. "Please, babygirl. I need you.”

He brings the hand he's holding over to his already throbbing cock, dragging your fingertips over the sensitive skin on his tip. His head rolls back again and his hips buck up. You try not to shiver.

"I just... I just need this," he breathes. "Please. I won't touch you, I'll be good."

Maybe it's the desperation in his voice. Maybe it's the way his eyes look so innocent, absolutely contrasting what he's begging you to do. Whatever it is, you let your tongue dart out to wet your lips, throat feeling incredibly dry as you stare down at him.

You wrap your fingers around his cock tentatively, not missing the way his body seems to come alive at your touch, and start moving up and down. He's already so hard, his entire shaft coated in his precum so you can slide up and down with ease. The sounds he's making are going straight to your core, and you can feel the way your underwear is sticking to you.

"Tight," he grunts. "Tighter, please."

You tighten your grip, speeding up a little bit. You feel him thrusting upwards to meet your hand, his hand squeezing yours like he needs the support to ground himself. You let your thumb brush over his tip, using his precum as lube to give him even more friction.

He cries out, back arching. "Yes," he chokes out. "Fuck, babygirl, do that again.”

You do, swiping your thumb across the slit and spreading more precum over him. It makes everything slicker and wetter, and the way you're able to move faster now has him moaning nonsensical little things.

His hips are bucking up harder now, and you watch as his abs tense and release, the hand not holding yours going up to tug on his hair. Your body feels like a loaded stick of dynamite, and you're so careful to keep your hips still, knowing how badly you want friction.

"M’close," he breathes. "Fuck, babygirl. You feel so good."

You pump faster, giving him the extra tightness and friction that he needs. You watch as the hand in his hair drops to his stomach, nails digging into his abs.

You wonder how long he was in here like this, pained and desperate. You try not to think about him moaning your name in the empty room, fucking up into his fist as he thinks about you, chasing your scent on his pillow.

Just because of the rut, your brain supplies. Because it would be absurd to think otherwise.

You glance up at his face. His eyes are screwed shut, lips parted as he pants and grunts and makes other sounds in the air. The look on his face is enough to make you clench around nothing. You've only been hot and bothered for the last 5 minutes and you already feel desperate to cum, so you can't imagine what he's going through.

You let your other hand reach up to cup his face.

"Chan," you murmur. "Look at me.”

He opens his eyes slowly, pupils completely blown as he meets your gaze. You see sweat sliding down the side of his face, and you wonder if it's from his fever or his pleasure.

"You're okay, babyboy," you whisper. His cock jumps in your hand at that. "You can cum, you know. You don't have to hold back."

"Wanna--wanna be good," he grunts. You feel him start to thrust faster. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You're doing so good, Channie. You're not hurting me."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you drop your hand from his cheek and slide it down the column of his throat, letting your nails scratch across his skin. His reaction is immediate, body spasming as he groans.

"Shit," he cries. "Yes, right– right there, Oh my God."

"Yeah?" You scrape your nails across the base of his throat again, making sure to be a bit rougher this time.

He nods quickly, the grip on your hand tightening. You take your other hand off of him, drinking up the sound of his whine before you slide it underneath his hoodie, feeling his chest up. You scrape your nails over his pecs, making him jolt a little.

"C'mon, Channie," you coo. "You're okay. I want you to cum for me."

He lets out a strangled sound, hips bucking up into your fist even faster now. His head falls back again and you see the muscles in his neck strain.

"Please," he chokes out. "I need-- I need--"

You slide your hand from his chest back up to his neck, finding the spot from earlier that made him make that deliciously memorable noise. When you drag your nails across it, his hips stutter in their rhythm, and that's the only warning you have before his entire body is convulsing with pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," he grunts. "Babygirl, fuck–”

His cock pulses in your hand as he cums, releasing all over himself and your fingers. You stroke him through it, gently moving your hand up and down until he's spent.

Then, there's silence.

You're not sure what you expect. Maybe for him to turn over and go to sleep, or for him to act bashful and apologetic, letting you know it won't happen again.

You certainly aren't expecting for him to grip your hips and lift you up onto the bed. Or for him to gently push you down on your back. Or for the desperation in his face to be replaced with something harder, something more in control and dominating as he says, “Please let me eat your pussy, babygirl.”

You almost choke.

You feel like you should protest. Tell him he doesn't have to, that this is already more than you thought you would ever get. But then he's sliding his hands up under your shirt, and the only thing your mouth can form is a moan.

He's never seen you naked, always a respectable gentleman, but there's no hesitation or uncertainty in the way his hands move around your body. He's not tentative and gentle like you expected; he's touching and pinching and running his nails along your skin like he's done this before, like he knows all your spots. He reaches your chest, where you have no bra, and rubs his thumb across your already hardened nipple. Your back arches and your legs fall open for him with a groan, letting him slot himself in the now empty spot.

He pulls his hand away, moving up to your face and cupping your jaw so you can look at him. He's looking down at you with dark eyes.

"Please?”

He's asking, you know, but there's nothing gentle in the way he's looking at you. You nod as best as you can, and he brings his hand down from your jaw to your chin, fingers sliding over your lips. You feel him nudge his thumb against your bottom lip, and you take the hint.

You open your mouth for him, letting him slide his thumb inside and rub it across your tongue. He's looking down at you intensely as you swirl your tongue around his finger, and when you suck on it a little, he lets out a grunt.

"Fuck," he breathes. He pulls his thumb away, watching as a string of saliva connects it to your lips. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You nod again, but he gives a little humorless chuckle, head tilting at you.

"Use your words babygirl."

"Yes." Your voice is quiet. "Yes, I want you to.”

He stares at you for another moment. You watch his eyes dart across your face, your body, before settling on your lips again. He leans down then, hovering just above you as he licks his own lips.

"Gonna kiss you now," he murmurs. "That okay?"

You fear you look stupid, the way you're just staring up at him, jaw slacked and eyes going in and out of focus. You nod anyway, trying to act normal.

Or as normal as you can, under the circumstances.

He doesn't waste any more time after that. He leans down the rest of the way, pressing his lips against yours. It's slow at first, a sweet little thing that makes you feel warm and safe. You sigh into it, eyes fluttering closed.

But then he licks a stripe across your bottom lip, and you let out a pathetic little whimper, lips falling open just enough for him to slot his tongue in your mouth. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. It's desperate, burning, hot and filthy. He's licking into your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lips. You try to press your thighs together again, but his strong, muscular slab of body is between them, forcing them open.

His hands slide down your sides and settle on your hips. Your shorts do nothing as a barrier, and you feel every modicum of heat in his hands. He slips those warm hands into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, sliding them down your body antagonizingly slowly.

He sits back on his knees then, pulling them both all the way off before tossing them to the side. Then he leans forward again, pressing wet kisses to the skin right below your belly button.

"Chan," you breathe.

"S'okay baby," he mumbles against your skin. You feel a new wave of wetness flow through you. How could your usual nickname be even hotter with half of it missing?

Then he's moving his mouth down, down, down, and you feel him pressing his nose to your slit.

"Oh god," you whine.

"I know," he murmurs. You feel his tongue press against your clit, and your entire body spasms. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your legs and squeezing your thighs to hold them open. "I know babygirl.”

He licks you again, making you groan out loud. You can't help but bring one hand up to his curls, weaving your fingers through them and tugging on them like you've always wanted to. He responds by moaning, the vibrations shooting straight to your core.

You feel his tongue dip lower, spreading your wetness around. He dips it into your entrance, tongue fucking you at such a languid pace you feel like you'll fall apart. You hear him groan against your cunt again, and his hands tighten on your thighs.

"So wet, baby," he murmurs. "Taste so good.”

He presses his tongue to your clit again, and you pull on his hair harder. He grunts, and you feel him rutting up against the bed, his cock hard again, chasing some form of relief. 

"Please baby," he mumbles against you. "Want you to cum for me. Please."

You know yourself, know what gets you going and what really makes you cum, so you want to tell him that it's going to take more than this, that you're not there yet, but you don't get a chance to before he's sliding a finger inside of you, curling it up and finding your spot with such accuracy your vision goes white.

You feel him suck on your clit then, swirling his tongue around it as he slides another finger inside of you. You tug on his hair again, not even realizing that you're grinding up against his face.

You feel yourself getting closer, chasing the release you've been desperate for since he pulled you onto the bed. His fingers curl inside of you again, pressing that spot and making you scream out his name.

"Yeah?" Chan groans against you, voice hoarse and desperate. "Like that? S'okay baby, let go."

"Chan," you choke. You're so, so close. "Chris. Chris.”

He moans at that, speeding up his fingers and moving his tongue even faster.  He's rocking himself up against the mattress with more urgency now, panting and moaning with his mouth pressed to your cunt.

"C'mon babygirl," he mumbles. "Need you to cum. C'mon, please. Need it."

He presses his fingers into that spot again, and you're gone. You arch up off of the bed as you cum, his name ripping itself from your throat as he fucks you through it. You feel your cunt pulsing around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. He keeps licking, his moans sending vibrations straight up your spine until you're over sensitive, tugging on his hair for him to back away. He does, but not before pressing wet kisses to the inside of your thigh.

He sits up then, his hair sticking up all over the place from where you've been pulling on it. He's sweaty and breathing hard, his lips swollen and red from where you were kissing him. You feel his eyes roam over your body, and you know that if you look down, you'll see how your skin is flushed from your ears down to your chest.

He's still sporting a semi, but his focus isn't on that anymore. He gathers you up in his hands, pulling you with him to the top of the bed and settling you with him on the pillows. He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you to rest your head on his chest.

"Sleep," he says into your hair. You notice how his body temperature has dropped-- he doesn't feel like an inferno anymore.

You're too tired to do anything but whine gently at the way he's holding you, too relaxed and spent to say anything. You feel sleep pulling at your eyes as he fixes your shirt over you carefully.

"Ah, shit," he murmurs. "Gotta clean you up. Then I'll come right back, yeah?”

You nod, trying to fight off sleep just a little longer. He presses a kiss to your hair before sliding out of the bed, going to the bathroom and coming back with a warm washcloth. You feel him wipe you down gently, and you mumble out something that might've been a thank you.

He takes the washcloth back to the bathroom, coming back to join you in bed. He pulls you back on top of him, settling the blankets over the two of you.

You're asleep before he can even kiss your forehead again.

When you wake up in the morning, you do your usual pause to see what does and doesn't hurt. You're mostly pain free, you realize sleepily, except for a dull ache in your hips and knees and a pleasant soreness in your–

Oh shit.

Everything slams back into you at once. The lemonade, Chan, him begging for you in more ways than one. It feels like you've been doused in cold water and tossed off of a bridge.

You go to sit up, but when you make an attempt to move, you feel an impossibly heavy weight around your midsection. Said weight snores a bit, and you realize that it's Chan's arm draped across you.

He's sleeping soundly next to you, hair still ruffled and unruly from where you were pulling it, lips still slightly swollen and red. The blankets are pulled up to his chin, hiding his body from view.

Your face burns as you try to really remember everything that happened last night, either to orient yourself through the brain fog or torture yourself. You're not entirely sure. Chan was... he was in rut, you knew that much. And you offered to help. Then he ate you out and gave you what was probably the most intense orgasm of your life, and then you fell asleep.

Typical stuff. Of course.

The memories are still there, but the reality of the situation has you panicking. His eyes are still closed, so you don't have to deal with the embarrassment of him catching you staring, but you're frozen anyway.

You're immediately hit with the overwhelming realization that you just made a mistake. There's no way you can possibly continue to keep your feelings for Chan a secret after this, no way that you can pretend you don't know what his amazingly deft fingers feel like inside of you. How would you ever be able to look him in the face again?

A vibrating sound pulls you from your spiral. For a second, you wonder if it's coming from Chan, but you recognize that, no matter what genetic issue he has, a person cannot vibrate. 

The sound is actually coming from just off the side of the bed, where your shorts and panties lay discarded. You reach over and pluck your phone from the back pocket, turning it over to see an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen.

You're about to send it to voicemail when your heart sinks like lead along with recognition in your chest. It's the genetic clinic.

You're untangling yourself from Chan's arms in record speed, shirking your shorts on and stepping into the hallway. He doesn't stir, thankfully, but you still close the door gently behind you anyway.

"Hello?" You breathe.

The nurse on the other side of the line greets you enthusiastically, and after confirming you are the intended recipient of the phone call, she asks you to hold while she transfers you to the doctor. You wait anxiously for a minute or two, pacing your way to the kitchen island and picking at the skin around your fingers while you listen to the generic hold music.

"Good morning," the doctor says as she comes on the line. She, too, sounds far too chipper. "I apologize for the wait, I was in the middle of rounds when your nurse flagged me down."

"That's okay," you say. Pleasantries feel superficial right now.

"Right, so. We did get some of your preliminary genetic results back," she says. You can hear pages being turned on the other side of the line. "I wanted to let you know that, unfortunately--"

The floor falls from under your feet.

"-- You did test positive for Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Classical type."

You can't really hear anything else she's saying. Something about coming back in, maybe. About starting physical therapy. Taking care of yourself. You feel sick, like you might pass out. Or throw up. 

You manage to push through the rest of the conversation, your voice sounding far away even to your own ears. She lets you know that she's sending follow-up information to your email, says that it's important to have support at such a time like this, and you make a very non committal grunt of acknowledgement before ending the phone call. Your phone chatters on the island, the sound echoing in the empty space.

You can't even form a concept of a thought before your chest feels tight, like there's a rubber band stretching across your ribs and pulling taut. You skin suddenly feels like there are a million and one tiny sets of feet thrumming underneath it. It's too hot. Your shirt is choking you. It's all suddenly too much at once: last night with Chan, the diagnosis, the way you're feeling an ache building in your back.

You need to move. You need to get out.

You're up the stairs before you can really process it, standing in front of your suitcase and rifling through it with speed. You find a pair of sweats and what you’re almost certain is Chan's old hoodie, but you toss them on quickly anyway.

The air is crisp when it hits your face a few moments later. It's exactly what you need. The path around the cabin is familiar– you've walked it countless times during family trips and weekend getaways. You know exactly where to step to avoid the mud, which trees mark the loop back to the house.

You walk until your legs burn, until the tears on your face dry in the cold air. Your mind races with everything and nothing at once.

Classical EDS. Your PCP was right about it being a connective tissue disorder. EDS explains the tummy aches, the racing heart, the migraines, and most obviously, the joint pain. There's no cure. Just management. Just a lifetime of being careful, of physical therapy, of putting in insane amounts of effort to make sure your joints don't fucking disintegrate.

You find this to be the most manageable of all the issues at the moment. 

But Chan…

God, Chan. What were you thinking? He was in rut, vulnerable and needing comfort, and you just... what? Offered yourself up like some kind of heathen? Let him touch you in ways you've only dreamed about, knowing full well it would change everything?

This feels like the biggest issue to you, you realize when you pause on a tree stump. Because if you lose Chan, from something you initiated, you will lose everything else. He is the center of your universe, and everything revolves around him. You can't lose him, especially not over your own stupidity.

You think about going back. Talking to him. Maybe trying to convince him that you're fine, that he doesn't have to worry about you. That you don't like him like that, and you were just being a good friend and helping.

But then you remember his face when he came, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moaned out your name. The way his fingers felt inside of you. How good he smelled.

You'll never be able to forget any of it now, you realize. And it will tear you apart if you lose him because of it.

You realize you've been walking much longer than intended when you catch a glimpse of the position of the sun. The morning chill has given way to a warmer temperature, though your face still feels numb from the wind. Your joints are definitely making themselves known now.

You suppose you may as well head back, even if you don't have any idea what you’re going to do when you have to face Chan. You can't stay out and freeze.

As you round the final bend that leads back to the cabin, you see him.

Chan is standing on the front porch, shirtless despite the cold, his hands visibly shaking at his sides. He's looking in the opposite direction, but you see when your scent hits him, because he whips around and his eyes lock onto you immediately. There's a look on his face that makes your chest ache– he looks terrified, like he's been coming apart at the seams.

You both freeze in your spots, an echo of that moment at the clinic. The silence stretches between you, heavy with everything unsaid. You notice then that his eyes are red, not the same red tint you now recognize from his rut, no. This is the red tint from that day he had to drive you to the hospital.

He's been crying.

“Where–” his voice is labored. “Babygirl. Where have you been?”

"I just..." you gesture vaguely at the path behind you. "I needed some air."

He takes a step forward, then seems to think better of it, stopping himself in his tracks. "You weren't... you were gone when I woke up. Your phone was on the counter, I couldn't... I didn't know where…”

He makes a pained noise in his chest, and then you see his entire face crumble. He pulls one of his arms up to his face, covering his eyes as you hear him start to cry.

Your heart breaks in two.

You rush to him as quickly as your protesting legs will allow, taking the stairs two at a time until you're in front of him. You reach up to gently pull his arm down, but he jerks away, a wounded noise escaping from his mouth.

"No," he cries. "You shouldn't–  don't touch me. I'm sorry.”

“Chris,” you breathe, hoping to cut through his emotional fog. “Chris, please, look at me.”

“Tell me what I did.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“What did I do wrong?” His voice cracks around the words. “Last night, I couldn't… control myself. And you were so good to me and then– you were gone.”

"Chan, no." You reach for him again, and this time he lets you pull his arm down. His face is streaked with tears, those big brown eyes red and swollen. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He shakes his head violently, words tumbling out around hiccups. "Then why did you leave? Why didn't you wake me up? I woke up and you were gone and I couldn't– your scent was gone and I couldn't–"

A sob cuts him off. You grab his hand and tug him towards the door. "Let's go inside. Please? It's freezing out here.”

He lets you tug him inside, at least just until you can close the door. You try to bring him over to the couch, but he's stubborn, keeping his feet planted where they are. He won't look at you, keeping his gaze downcast no matter how much you tug on his arm. You let go after a tense moment, sighing and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Chan. The clinic called,” you say softly. “Thats why I left. My results came back.”

His head snaps up at that, understanding settling over his face. “You… did you test positive for–”

“Classical Ehlers Danlos,” you supply.

He looks like he'll cry all over again, reaching his hand out to you before pulling it back to his side. He squeezes his hands in and out of fists a few times before he shakes his head, tilting his head back until he's staring up at the ceiling.

“I'm so sorry,” he breathes. “Last night… I shouldn't have–”

“Stop, please,” you cut him off, voice hoarse in the quiet. You've run out of energy. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“No, I did everything wrong. I thought I could handle it, thought it wouldn't be too much. Everyone told me it was a bad idea but I didn't want to listen, thought I could control myself.”

You feel bile rising in your throat. “What?”

He shakes his head again. “I shouldn't have said yes.”

He murmurs it, but the cabin is dead silent, so there's no way you don't hear it. There's no way you can misinterpret what he means either. Last night. He shouldn't have said yes when you asked if he needed help.

You take a step back, and you watch his face crumble a bit more. “Right.” Your voice sounds hollow. “It's fine. It was a mistake anyway."

"A mistake?" Now he looks confused through his tears. "No, that's not–"

"It's okay, Chan." You force a smile that feels like it might crack your face in half. You need to end this conversation now so you can go cry in your bed. "We can just forget it happened. You were in rut, I was... available. It's fine."

"Available." He deadpans. His gaze loses some of the previous softness. "Is that what you think? That I just... used you because you were there?”

You find yourself backing away towards the stairs, already mentally checked out. “Isn't it? You said it yourself last night, it was just my scent.”

His face flashes through so many emotions, you're not sure how you would begin parsing through them. He settles on something that looks like a mix of thinly veiled disgust and anger. He fixes his posture until he's back up to his full height now, brown eyes ablaze.

You decide to turn away from him fully at that moment. Whatever this is, this half argument you're having, it can wait until you've taken a good nap. You prepare to climb the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing and one foot on a stair.

That's about as far as you make it before you feel the unmistakable heat of Chan behind you. You stifle back the gasp that threatens to spill when he presses himself right up against your back, head dipped down so he's right by your ear.

“Ask me why,” he breathes. 

You shiver at the feeling of his breath on your ear, and your entire body lights up in record time. You've forgotten how to speak, maybe.

So, you eloquently stutter out a simple, "What?"

He slides a hand around you, reaching from the base of your back all the way to your stomach, pulling you closer to him. “Babygirl. I said, ask me why.”

You swallow thickly. His voice is still hoarse and low from the crying, and it sends a shiver up your spine that rocks your body so hard, you think you would fall if not for the strong arm around you.

"Why," you breathe. The word has no conviction in it. You're getting dizzy.

He leans even closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your outer ear. "Because," he murmurs. "Yes, your scent smells so fucking good. So sweet and warm. But I don't want you because you smell good, baby. I want you because you smell like you're mine.”

You whimper involuntarily at that, and you feel him inhale sharply. His other hand reaches up to hold your chin, tilting your head up towards him. You're looking at each other now, his eyes blown wide and his pupils blown so black, there's barely any brown left.

"Do you understand me, babygirl?" He's breathing hard against you. "Even under the harsh scent of your pain, or the saccharine scent of when you're happy, something in you always smells like you belong to me. Do you know why?"

Your knees feel weak. Not from pain, but because of whatever is happening right now. You let out a pathetic mewl in Chan's hold and watch his nostrils flare. 

"Because you are mine. My mate. You hear me, baby? Mine.”

Then he's tilting your head to the side and kissing down the column of your throat, nipping just hard enough to send electricity through your body. You whine, unable to stop the way your body arches into his touch. 

He makes a low, rumbling sound in his chest, pulling away just long enough to look you in your eyes again. "Wasn't using you," he huffs, saying the word use like it leaves a nasty flavor in his mouth. "I needed you, needed your scent around me to make it better. I couldn't control myself, baby."

He spins you around so that you're facing him now, hands still wrapped around your waist. You think he's about to kiss you, but you see a wave of clarity and seriousness push everything else to the side.

“They asked me at the clinic,” he starts, shuffling with you in his arms until you're back in the living room with him. “If something happened to a family member, or if I had a girlfriend who was hurt.”

You're hanging on to every word, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I told them no to both, but I told them about the hospital, about how you called me crying cause you were in so much pain, and you just kept passing out on me. I told them about how scared I was that if I left the hospital, I would come back and you wouldn't be there. You'd be gone. It was ripping me apart.”

You reach up to touch his face without thinking, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He leans into the touch like he can't help himself.

“I presented because I wanted to protect you down to my very DNA. I was going so crazy about you that my body needed a way to protect me– protect you.”

“Chan,” you breathe.

“They said my inner wolf, that primal part of me, recognized it as my mate being in pain, and I was powerless to stop it. It's you, babygirl. It's always been you.”

The hopeless romantic in your heart is giddy. 

You think about how you'd tried to touch him during the drive up, how he'd pulled his hands away like he was in pain. You supposed maybe he was. Going through his first rut, stuck in an enclosed space with his mate, unable to do anything about it.

You can't imagine the amount of restraint it probably took him to remain normal. The sheer thought of it alone has you blinking back up at him, looking right in his eyes.

With the eye contact, you feel his body swell microscopically, like he's flaxing every muscle so he can look bigger, more threatening, but he is neither of those things to you.

To you he is just Chan.

You're rising up on your toes before you even know what's happening, hand sliding up Chan's neck to pull him down towards you and catching his lips in a hot, burning kiss. 

The hand around your waist tighten's its grip, slotting you even further against his body.

It feels like home. It feels like safety.

You feel his growing bulge press against you, and you hum into the kiss. 

It feels like perfection.

"M'Sorry," he slurs against your mouth. He makes no effort to pull away. "Still in rut. Sensitive."

You say nothing, sliding your free hand down his chest, over his stomach until you reach what you're looking for. You rest your hand over it softly, not grabbing or pressing, but he responds like you do, grunting and rutting up against your hand as he starts panting.

"Babygirl," he groans. "Baby, please."

You start moving your hand in earnest now, cupping his bulge through his sweats as he grinds up against you. His eyes flutter closed and he pulls away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," he grunts. "Wanna be inside. Wanna cum inside you so deep you'll never forget who you belong to. Make myself your alpha."

It's insane how your body reacts to that. You feel your clit jump in your underwear. The Alpha/Omega thing wasn't real-- or at least wasn't based on any science with the condition, but the way Chan speaks, the way his grunts sound so close to your ear, you believe it could be.

"You're gonna let me, right?" He whines. "Please? I'll make you feel so good. Been so good for me already baby. Just wanna make you cum on my cock."

Your moan gets caught in your throat when he slides a hand down your body to grip the swell of your ass. Between that and feeling him, rock solid against you, your entire body comes back to life with desperate, almost delirious need.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Channie, please. Want you. Please."

His chest vibrates with a growl and he wastes no time pushing you back until you're laying against the couch. He kneels over you, large hand reaching down and palming himself through his sweats.

He notices what you're wearing at that moment. He reaches his free hand down, gripping the material of your– his – hoodie. It's entirely too big for you, even when you're standing, but laying back like this, the material absolutely dwarfs you. 

He must like the sight of it, because you watch him grip himself tight.

"Fuck, babygirl. You don't know what you do to me. Wearing my clothes? Are you even wearing anything under that?"

Feeling bold, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater up, just enough so that he can see the expanse of skin right under it. When he looks back at your face, you give him an innocent expression, eyes wide and blinking.

He doesn't even bother taking anything off, just pulls his cock out of his sweats and starts stroking himself again. You feel your mouth go dry just from the sight of it– hard and flushed red, precum dripping from the tip. You grip the material of his sweater tighter.

“Gonna be good, baby?" he breathes. "Wanna get off like this."

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. He looks fucking delicious above you, cock in hand as he strokes himself faster now, moaning at the way you look underneath him.

"Gonna make myself cum on your stomach," he grunts. "Mark you. Then I'll fuck you until you're screaming, so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You feel your cunt throbbing in your underwear. You cant help the way you whine out his name, the way you squeeze your thighs together to try to get some relief. He looks like he's going to explode just from hearing you say his name like that.

He leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch by your head, effectively caging you in. You can feel how his muscles flex under your hands as you touch him, sliding your palms up and down his chest. You find your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way he moves up and down.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathes. "Fucked my fist so many times wishing it was you.”

You wrap your arms around him, one hand going up to that special spot at the base of his neck. As you graze your nails against it, he turns his face, pressing his nose into the pulse point on your wrist, inhaling you and your smell.

He starts moaning louder, breath fanning across your arm as he gets closer and closer to the edge. You're so turned on from it, you feel like you might actually cum without a hand to your body.

"Babygirl," he grunts. "Baby, fuck. I'm close."

You pull him down to you, pressing his face right into your neck. You can feel how his eyelids flutter as his eyes roll back, the arm by your head straining with how tightly he's gripping the couch.

"Gonna let your alpha cum on your stomach, baby? Mark you?”

You nod quickly. You feel him lean in even more, brushing his lips against the soft part of your throat where he no doubt can feel your erratic pulse. You right into his ear, and then he's groaning out your name and nipping at your throat hard, all teeth and tongue and need as he spills all over you.

He makes sure to press his body flush against you while he rides out his orgasm, so that his cum splatters all over your stomach. He grinds up against you with his hips, making sure his cock slides along the fabric of his sweater. You watch him get lost in it, eyes screwed shut as he mouths at your throat, panting and moaning through his high.

Then he stills, just a bit. He pulls away from your neck, his pupils still completely blown as he looks down at you.

You're not sure what he sees when he does. You know sweat is starting to stick to your skin, plastering little bits of your hair to your face. Despite not being touched yet, you feel absolutely cock drunk if only on the sight of Chan alone.

You can't tell if that's what he sees, but whatever it is, it makes his still-hard cock jump against where it rests on your stomach. He's pushing himself up to sit on his knees before you even remember your own name.

He slides down the couch until his face is level with your hips. He pulls the waistband of your sweats down just enough for your cunt to be exposed, and then he's leaning forward, dragging his tongue along your slit.

"Fuck," you cry, body jolting. "Chan."

He doesn't respond verbally, just hums and pulls back enough to stare at your dripping cunt. You find your hips bucking up when he lets his mouth water just enough to drool right on you.

He dives back down to your cunt and pushes his tongue inside of you. You feel him moan against you as he licks you, slow and deliberate. You can hear how wet you are, and you feel yourself throb around his tongue when you hear it.

"I kept noticing your scent change," he says against your clit. He gives it a few kitten licks before diving down and flattening his tongue on you, licking and slurping you from end to end. "Sometimes, I would look at you, or touch you, and you smelled like citrus. Couldn't figure out why."

He takes those absurdly plump lips and suctions them around your clit, one strong arm coming to hold you down when you arch up off the bed.  "Thats just your scent when you're aroused," he continues, nudging his nose against your clit. "Smells so fucking good."

You're certain you might be delirious at this point. The way Chan eats you out feels so much better than anything else you've ever felt, and his tongue has you hurdling to the crest of your orgasm faster than you can believe.

"Oh. Ohh," you whimper. "Channie, m'so close."

"That's my good girl," he murmurs. His lips are still right against your clit. "You're so perfect baby. Let me make you feel good. Want you to cum for me."

He slides his tongue back inside of you, and you feel a hand come up to play with your clit. You're so dangling off the edge, so ready to jump with the right push. You just need a little more, but then you feel a finger slide inside of you and crook up.

You're gone. You cum with a shout of Chan's name, arching up off of the couch as your body shakes from the intensity of it all. He licks you through it, pulling away only when you start to whine and wiggle around from the sensitivity.

He sits back on his knees again, watching you pant on the couch as you try to collect yourself. You look over at him when you catch your breath, and you see him licking his fingers clean.

He leans over you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down. You don't bother asking first, just slot his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. It's absolutely wet and filthy, the flavor of yourself bursting over your tongue when he swipes into your mouth. You suck on his tongue, hard, and he groans into your mouth, hands sliding up under the sweater to touch your bare skin.

"Gonna fuck you good now," he grunts against your lips. You whine and press your body into his. "Okay, baby? Do you think you're ready for me?"

"Yes, Chris," you sigh. He pulls away from the kiss gently to stare at you. Despite the haze of his rut, you can see a hesitancy in his eyes, like there's something he wants but he's not saying. It takes all of two seconds for you to connect the dots.

"Please, Alpha?" you whine.

That seems to be the magic word, because he's lifting you up into his arms and standing up from the couch immediately. In a split second, you're pressed up against the wall next to the TV. You're very thankful for the layer between your bare skin and the freezing cold wall.

He wraps your legs around his waist, and suddenly you can feel the heat of his erection right on you. He presses his cock between your folds, holding you tight while he ruts up into you. 

You're so wet that the head catches against your entrance every so often, making both of you moan into each others mouths.

"Thank you, baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically soft at a moment like this. "'m so grateful. So--" He lets out a pant, eyes rolling back as he lets his head drop back too. "Fuck."

You know Chan well enough to know what he's trying to say. He's thanking you for accepting him, for coming back to him, for letting him be vulnerable.

How could you not? He was so distressed by your wellbeing that a distant part of his DNA woke up to protect you. He ignored his doctor's orders to take you on this trip because he knew you needed it. He was content to suffer through his first rut in silence if it meant just taking care of you.

How could you not love all that he is?

You learn forward and nip him right as his pulse point, and his whole body jerks. You know werewolf lore, know that a bite there means a forever. You don't have the same genetic syndrome, but God do you want to be in his arms forever. You don't even feel like you need to question it.

His eyes, heavily lidded, find their way to your face. "You know what that bite means, right baby?" His voice is hoarse, and even when he clears his throat at your responding nod, it doesn't get better. "You wanna mark me there, babygirl? Make me yours?”

You nod, sliding your mouth up his throat until your lips are pressed right against his ear. You slide your tongue over his lobe and tug on it. "Please alpha. Wanna show everyone who you belong to."

He snakes a hand up your back until he finds your hair, fingers tangling in the roots as he grips, pulling your head back. "I mark you first," he grits out. "Let alpha take care of you."

You can't help the way you go pliant, letting your head fall to one side just enough to expose your neck to him. You watch his eyes and make your expression as wanting as possible.

He groans at that, finally pulling you away from the wall just enough so that he can line himself up. He pushes his tip right into you, and you press your forehead against his, the mixed sounds of your breathing being the only thing filling the atmosphere.

"I love you," he sighs. Your heart squeezes in your chest. "Gonna take such good care of you always, yeah?"

"I love you more, Chan," is your breathy reply.

"I'll give you everything," he sighs. "Everything you want. I just need you to come on my cock first, yeah? The alpha's got you. I got you."

Then he's pushing in slowly, and you both sigh as he bottoms out. You cling to him, pressing your face into his neck as he fucks you slowly into the wall.

He keeps it slow, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your forehead and hair, telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how you were made just for him. You're already feeling the pressure building up in your stomach again, barely paying attention to what he's saying. 

"Gonna breed this tight little pussy," he murmurs at some point. You do hear that, and you clench hard around him, making him groan.

"Oh fuck," he gasps. "You want my seed, huh? Want me to fuck my seed in you, angel?"

Your walls around him again, swallowing him up. You know you can't get pregnant-- birth control and all of that-- but the idea of him filling you up has your body begging for more. You dig your nails into the skin of his back and you feel him throb inside of you. He makes a sound between a grunt and a moan, slamming his hips into yours, cock sliding into you deeper than before.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck, m'so close already. Think you can you cum with me angel? Hm?"

You nod, clinging to his shoulders as you bounce up and down on his cock. It feels so good, too good, and you're already so close yourself.

"Chris," you whine. "I'm– fuck, I'm close."

"I know, babygirl," He sounds so wrecked. "I'm right behind you. You can cum for me baby. Cum for your alpha. Want you to cum on me, please."

He presses a kiss to your neck, right over your pulse point, and that's all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge. You cry out his name, letting him fuck you through it while your cunt pulsates around him. You feel him twitch in you, a deep guttural moan leaving his lips as he slams into you one last time, spilling all his cum inside of you.

He bites you then.

Its not painful, not really, because he doesn't break skin. His teeth aren't sharp enough for that. The bite is more performative than anything, but it sends a shockwave through your body.

 It's a strange feeling, almost like your blood is simmering under your skin, but you're so lost in the bliss of your orgasm that you don't even care. It feels right, anyhow. Like the final missing piece to a puzzle you've been spending a lifetime constructing.

He stays there for a second, sucking a bruise into your neck. His hands are shaking, but he's holding you tight enough that you don't even worry about falling.

Then, he licks the spot on your neck where he bit, soothing whatever pain he might've caused. He pulls away from you just enough to press a kiss to your lips, still holding you up with his cock in you.

"I love you," he whispers. "My mate. Mine."

You reach a hand up to touch his neck, and he tilts his head to the side, giving away to the instincts thrumming under his skin. You take your fingers and trace them along the column of his throat, stopping just under his Adam's apple. 

You don't say anything at first, just lean forward and press your lips against the same spot. Your bite is more restrained, more gentle. He hisses out a strangled sound, and you would assume it was pain if you didn't feel his cock pulse in you.

When you pull away, you look at him, a small smile on both of your incredibly fucked out faces. You lean forward and press a little kiss to his lips.

"I love you too," is your quiet reply. "My mate."

As promised, he's so gentle with you afterwards, cleaning you up and giving you your medication when he scents your hips are about to ache. The entire ordeal is so familiar, so cozy, you wonder how you could've ever let yourself believe that Chan didn't love you too.

Hours later, when you're cuddled together on the couch, dozing off in his lap, you hear him whispering something against your hair. Your mind is so muddled with sleep you can barely make out the words he's saying.

You string together something about mates, something about how he'll protect you, how you're his everything, how he loves you so much.

It doesn't really matter though. You know already, because he's yours, and you're his.

His everything.

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (hyung line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a little bit of angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: some are talking about sex, alcohol and being intoxicated (not the boys). i think that's all idk. anyways!! if you're under 16 pls don't read this.

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: 2022 deni kinda ate with these ngl, so of course i had to rewrite it <3 these used to be my favorite hcs i ever wrote, so i truly hope you enjoy <3. happy channie day!! maknae line here!

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

With Christopher here, things are complicated because he avoids labeling what you guys have like the plague. His work always comes first so that makes him shy away from commitment.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He does, a lot, and that kind of scares him, especially when he randomly starts feeling possessive over you when he knows he has no right to.

No matter how much he tries to deny it, the feelings are there and he’s always reminded of them when he catches himself treating you so much different from the other girls in his life.

You were humming in your seat, head bopping from side to side to the rhythm of the tunes on the radio. A happy bubblegum pop song, one that didn’t fail to lift your already high spirits and put you into the right mood for the long trip ahead.

“You look happy.”

Your head snaps in his direction, a big smile stretching across your face as his melodious laugh fills your ears. Chan wasn’t looking at you, giving all of his attention to the road as he drove behind Minho’s car yet his words made you giddier, just happy to be here in his presence.

“I am!” You nod, still swaying in your seat. “Thank you for taking me along, I haven’t been to the beach in ages.”

Chan hums with a smile before reaching down and gently grabbing your hand, eyes still focused on the road as he raises it to his to plant multiple, gentle kisses on your skin.

“Of course, baby.” He says, giving a final kiss to your knuckles before resting your hands next to the gear stick. “I wouldn’t even have gone on this trip without you.”

The sweet gesture along with his words made your heart skip several beats, fooling your mind into believing he actually felt the same, the scene making you resemble an actual couple. Everybody was convinced you were already dating, since affection and those small touches came so naturally in your relationship, with no awkwardness or second guessing. You and Chan have fallen into this domestic routine where you do almost everything together despite not even being together. Yet, you loved being this close to him, glued at the hip and so enamored with one another but sometimes, you wished things were clearer, to actually know what you were and weren’t. How he viewed and felt about this relationship of yours.

“Something on your mind?”

Blinking your worries away, your heart swelled in your chest when you felt him squeeze your hand lightly, a sign of the silent support and care he never shied away from providing.

Shaking your head, the smile on your face returns, albeit a bit forced. “I was just thinking about how much you must enjoy my company, that’s all.”

That got a laugh out of him, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to drive with one hand, honey orbs briefly meeting yours in the rearview mirror.

“Is that so? You really think that, huh?”

You nod, intertwining your fingers while keeping your eyes straight ahead, softly caressing his hand. “Of course. What kind of person would miss going on a long-awaited trip with his best friends just for lil’ old me?”

Then, you turn to face him, mustering enough courage to appear confident and charming with your next words.

“You must really like me, huh, Christopher?”

His hold on you tightened, almost as if he was afraid you were going to disappear if he let go. You saw him nod his head and when the car came to a stop at a red light soon after, he finally took his eyes off the road to face you fully. His gaze was soft as he watched you like you held the sun in your bare hands and for the first time, Chan hesitated for a brief moment before he leaned over the console to press his lips against yours.

The kiss was so unexpected that you gasped at the contact, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and deepen your dance, change it all together, except he didn’t. He didn’t take things further, hand still holding yours as your lips did all the talking, moving against you in such a soft and tender way it almost brought you to tears, never experiencing such meaningful intimacy with him before.

When he pulled away, his eyes were still serious but slightly blown by your previous actions. In any other circumstances, you’d say it was lust but right now it felt like something more, an emotion that only grew and blossomed the more time you spent together. Something appropriate for your deep connection, beyond carnal desires and sighs of ecstasy.  

“I really, really do like you, Y/n. Please never forget that.”

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

The jealousy is strong with this one. I mean, that’s to be expected when your relationship status is so vague and ambiguous that you guys never talk about it.

However, he’s the softest when he’s with you. It’s like all of his worries and anxieties disappear when you’re by his side.

Secretly a romantic.

“Who is she?”

Minho looks up from his place on the floor at the sound of your voice, one eyebrow rising as a sign for you to go on while he continues to stretch. When you don’t, he lets a small sigh escape him before taking matters into his own hands.

“Elaborate.”

“Who is she?” you try again, arms crossed over your chest while a frown forms across your features. “The girl that was just here. The one you were happily laughing along with.”

Oh, that girl. Minho tries to hide his smirk once he hears what you have to say, being able to sense your jealousy without even having to spare you another glance. Truth be told, he knew exactly who you were talking about from the moment you opened your mouth yet, the part of him that wanted to see you get all worked up took over and made him play dumb.

Quickly composing himself before you notice, he shrugs. “Just some girl.”

He could feel you getting annoyed by now, his nonchalance and dismissal almost making your blood boil. “Lee Minho – “

“Why do you care?”

His voice is lower, usual doe and gentle stare narrowing slightly as he looks you dead in the eyes. Abandoning his stretching, Minho then stands up and takes a stance similar to yours, towering over you. He was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, his scent and him as a whole not only invading all of your senses but also your personal space. Not that you minded, you never did or ever will.

Not backing down, you took a step forward as well, closing in on him while maintaining eye contact. Eye contact always made Minho weak in the knees so you never wasted any opportunity of making him a little hot under the collar. Just as expected, Minho’s body reacts almost immediately, big hands settling on your hips before pulling you flush against him. The intimacy and gentleness of the action have your initial anger vanishing, the only thing on your mind now being him and him alone.

Deciding to play along, your arms naturally gravitate around his shoulders. “Am I not allowed to care about the type of people you surround yourself with, darling?” You smile yet he sees right through you, your words filled with sarcasm and something else Minho can’t quite put his finger on. Despite your affection, this was still bothering you.

But Minho doesn’t comment on it. “Like I said, she isn’t anyone important. You shouldn’t worry your pretty little head about her.” He breaths out, wet lips hovering over yours as he speaks. And before you know it, he’s kissing you, lips coming together in a passionate kiss only Minho himself can provide.

But even as you stand there, pinned to the cold mirror while he gently nips and sucks at your neck, you can’t help but worry about it all. You weren’t his girlfriend so you were fully aware that you had no right to question him about who he was or wasn’t hanging out with. But the fact that he wasn’t willing to tell you, to reassure you like he always did made your heart ache in your chest most painfully.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Thinks he’s being oh so subtle about what you two have going on. Newsflash, all of the boys already know there’s more than meets the eye between you.

Very protective but not in an overbearing way.

Actually really likes you but isn’t sure if you feel the same so he doesn’t act on those feelings.

Changbin was watching you from afar, a smile playing on his lips at the sight of you animatedly talking to some classmates. You haven’t noticed him yet and his heart was almost jumping out of his chest waiting for you to do so, trying to play it cool as he leaned against his car with his arms crossed. He might’ve looked calm and composed on the outside but on the inside, he was freaking out.

You two haven’t seen each other in a bit because of his busy schedule and now that he’s got some free time, one of the first things on his bucket list was to surprise you by dropping by to your school. Changbin had a whole afternoon planned out just for the two of you, one that involved all of your favorite activities and food. A part of him was really confused by his own behavior, especially since you never had ‘the talk’ regarding your relationship but he just couldn’t help it. The urge to spoil and shower you with gifts and his undivided attention was stronger than his doubts were, as usual.

He never realized he was a romantic until he met you, and fell head over heels for your charming personality.

Breaking away from your group of friends, your eyes finally met his and immediately widened at the sight of him, just like his smile does. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree and next thing Changbin knew, you broke into a sprint in his direction, your obvious excitement making the man laugh loudly in delight. You looked so adorable running to him like that, he couldn’t wait to get you in his arms and never let go.

You were almost there when suddenly some dude decided to stop you right in your tracks, blocking your path to get your undivided attention. You were visibly taken aback as you came to an abrupt stop, your face falling as the person started talking. This made Changbin’s mood do a whole 180, wasting no time in starting to make his way over, keen on giving this dude a piece of his mind. Your smile returned as he approached, looking at him over the man’s shoulder as everything he was saying was completely lost on you, Changbin’s magnetic field pulling you in without fail.

“Sorry, uhh…” You paused, trying to recall his name before shaking your head. “My boyfriend is here so I really have to go.”

At the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, the guy turned around to face Changbin so fast, it had him wondering how he didn’t get whiplash. Looking at him, Binnie glared as he tried to look as intimating as possible while the butterflies in his stomach were currently causing a riot over you calling him ‘your boyfriend’. Which wasn’t a hard task since he already looked as intimating as they come because of his well-built body, his mere presence causing the other man to hunch slightly.

“Okay, I-I will call you later then, Y/n.”

Changbin raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms once again. “Me, Y/n's boyfriend, wouldn’t like that, so don’t you even dare.” He glared menacingly, almost like daring the guy to protest in some way. “Now, scram.”

That’s all the warnings the guy needed to flee, leaving without as much of a goodbye while Changbin followed him with his eyes until he was out of sight. Your sweet giggles reached his ears, melting those sharp edges before he felt you throw yourself into his arms, your own going around his neck to pull him even closer. And just like that, the butterflies were back and making him feel like a high schooler around his first ever crush. He returned the hug in an instant, strong arms wrapping around your waist before picking you up and spinning you around, the sound of your delight getting rid of all of his annoyance and stress, the best cure ever invented.

“Hello, boyfriend.” You placed several pecks on his lips when the world stopped spinning, lightly kicking your feet that were still off the ground. “I missed you.”

He wasn’t your boyfriend yet, but after today, maybe he could finally be. 

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

The one that’s truly wrapped around your finger even if he would never admit it out loud. He’s bewitched, mesmerized by every little thing you do and say, his eyes full of adoration as he follows your every movement, almost like a puppy.

Randomly goes: “you can sit here” and here ends up being between his legs in a room full of 7 other men.

Can never take his eyes off of you.

Everyone’s laughter was bouncing off the walls as another dare was swung around, one that had someone pull out their phone and booty call a random number while trying but failing miserably to sound sober. Speaking off, everything seemed to be funny for your intoxicated friends at this hour. From knocking over each other’s drinks to randomly kissing, they were having the time of their lives and that brought the biggest smile to your lips.

“Hyunjin.” One of your girlfriends began, getting both yours and the man that was currently sitting behind you on the floor’s attention. She had a mischievous glint in her glassy eyes, one that had you a bit worried.

“What’s your type?” she finally asked before taking another sip of her drink, smirk growing bigger by the second as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, twirling a piece of her hair around a manicured finger. “Like I’m sure you don’t just fuck randos, they all have to fit some type of criteria, don’t they?”

“What gets Hwang Hyunjin hard?” Another one chimed in, scooting closer in interest.

And there it was. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as all the girls started giggling, clearly very amused and intrigued by the whole situation. Granted they were drunk but since you weren’t, it was a bit harder to hide your annoyance. You and Hyunjin weren’t a couple, heck you didn’t even know what you were but he was latched onto you from behind while you sat in between his legs, strong arms hugging you to his chest. Did they have to ask something like this while you were right here?

Soon, almost all of your friends seemed to be interested in his answer, especially since Hyunjin was known for his notorious reputation with both girls and boys around campus. You finally felt him react when Changbin, who was an even louder drunk, pointed out the look on your face and got everyone staring at you two. His arms tightened slightly around you, pulling your body even closer like he was trying to merge souls while his head came to rest on your shoulder in such a way that prevented the others from seeing his lips moving.

“What do you think, baby?” He whispered, hot breath making goosebumps appear all over your skin and awakening something in you. All his attention was on you now, ignoring everything and everyone around him like he wasn’t just asked a question. As expected, their interest wasn’t piqued for long since Hyunjin didn’t react nor answer, talking among themselves once again, with some hollering and wolf whistling when they noticed him gently moving your hair out of the way to start planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on the side of your throat.

Your breath picked up at that, one of your hands moving to rest over his and intertwining your fingers while his free one sneaked under your shirt to caress the bare skin.

With one last kiss on the back of your neck, Hyunjin spoke again, his next words making your head spin and almost whimper. “Should I start telling them about how sweet your voice sounds while moaning my name? To list all of those things you do that drive me insane daily or should I just let this be our little secret?”

[number1mingyustan]

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

—————————————————————————

(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[nhlclover]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[zweigsangel]

ex fratboy! chris. smut-angst. 1.8k words.

it’s one of those late nights, and you’re standing there in the middle of a way-too-crowded, kinda messy party that, honestly, you only came to ‘cause your friends dragged you here. the air's thick with too many people, bad beer, and random songs blaring loud enough to drown out any thoughts you might’ve had. and that’s when you see him: chris. the ex you swore you were over. but like, really, are you?

it’s weird though, ‘cause he’s just chilling across the room, laughing too loud, his arm around some guy you don’t recognize, talking animatedly about god knows what. he’s got that same stupid, loose stance, shoulders relaxed, wearing that hoodie he always wore, the one you’d stolen a million times. you think— hope, he hasn’t noticed you, so you kinda try to blend in, sticking close to the wall, pretending to check your phone.

you weren’t always like this, all distant and tense. you’d meet up after his frat meetings, and he’d tell you all these wild stories about his brothers, like the time they tried building a slip n’ slide down the staircase and ended up getting written up by their advisor. you’d just sit there laughing so hard you’d cry, and he’d look at you like nothing in the world could ever compare. and for a while, it felt like he was it. but it ended, kinda messy, mostly because chris was…well, chris. he’d blow off plans, flirt with people at parties, and honestly, it just felt like he didn’t know what he wanted. or maybe he did, and it just wasn’t you. he’d show up late and drunk, ramble on about his deep thoughts on the universe, and then disappear for days, leaving you feeling like some kind of afterthought. eventually, you got tired of being the whenever person, so you cut it off. even if it hurt.

it’s been a few months now, and you’re doing your thing—focusing on classes, seeing friends, trying to move on.

but nah. of course he sees you.

“yo, wait up,” he calls, weaving his way through people, looking right at you. you try to act casual, like this isn’t a big deal, like you don’t feel your stomach flip. he stops in front of you, that grin still hanging on his face. “hey,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “long time no see, huh?”

“yeah, well, been busy,” you reply, shrugging. it sounds casual enough, but he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to read something on your face.

“you look good,” he says after a pause, and it’s so out of character for him to just say something like that, straight-up, that it throws you off for a second “uh...thanks?” you laugh, awkwardly. you know he’s probably just trying to be friendly, but you can’t help wondering if there’s more to it. “so...you still doing the same old chris thing?”

he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second. “i guess so,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. and then he kinda sighs, like he’s tired of the frat boy act, or maybe just tired of himself. “been, uh…been thinkin’ about you,” he admits, his voice low. “more than i probably should.”

you try to brush it off, folding your arms to keep your cool. “oh, yeah? that’s, uh, new.”

“i know, i know, i messed up,” he says, sighing. “just…never got you outta my head, y’know?” you can feel yourself softening despite everything. “yeah, well, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

he looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and there’s this vulnerability there, like he’s finally ready to admit something he’s been holding back. “you think i didn’t? trust me, i tried. i just…i dunno. couldn’t do it.”

you don’t want to care, don’t want to feel that old pull, but it’s there, creeping up on you. he steps closer, barely an inch between you now, his gaze never leaving yours. “you want me to back off?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. “just tell me, and i will.”

you could tell him to go. could shut this down, walk away, stay done with him. but instead, you shake your head, just a tiny movement, and he lets out a soft breath, like he’s been holding it in. before you can think, his hand’s on your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your hip, pulling you closer.

the kiss starts slow, tentative, his lips brushing over yours like he’s testing if this is real. then his hand moves up, slipping around your back, and it’s like something inside you snaps. you grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low sound, his grip on you tightening as he presses his body against yours, his mouth moving over yours with more intensity.

“missed you,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough, desperate. you barely register the words, just feel the heat rising between you two, feel his hands sliding lower, pulling you against him, his fingers firm on your waist, his mouth moving along your jaw, down to your neck, sending shivers through you. you tug him toward the hallway, away from the crowded room, and he follows, his hand gripping yours, letting you lead him through the maze of people until you push open the bathroom door, dragging him inside.

the space is cramped and a little dingy, but you don’t care. the second the door clicks shut, his hands are on you, pushing you gently but firmly against the door. his mouth crashes into yours, hot and urgent, and your hands find their way under his hoodie, slipping over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. you tug the hoodie off him, and he lifts his arms to help you, tossing it aside without a second thought, his hands already back on you, roaming down your sides, exploring every inch.

he kisses you harder, more intense, his lips pressing down your neck, his hands slipping under your top, that quickly joins the hoodie on the floor.

“god, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. “yeah? thought you forgot about me,” you tease, but there’s no real bite to your words. it’s playful, but you both know the truth behind it.

“never forgot. couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he admits, his hands sliding up to your bra, deft fingers working to unclasp it. you feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as it falls away, and his hands are on your bare skin, exploring, his touch igniting every nerve in your body.

“you’re, uh…sure about this?” he murmurs, his voice low, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. you don’t even hesitate. “yeah,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

he lets out a soft, almost relieved sound, and his mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time, like he’s been holding back and can’t anymore. his hands slide down, finding the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, his touch steady and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. you step out of it, your pulse racing as his hands explore you, pulling you closer, pressing you against him.

you tug at his belt, fingers fumbling, but he’s already helping, working the buckle loose, kicking off his jeans. he’s back against you in a second, his hands on your hips, his lips trailing down your collarbone, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers in their wake.

he lifts you, setting you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist. “you okay?” he asks, checking in, “yeah, jus’ do it,” you whisper, barely able to hold back the urge to pull him closer, “please.”

he’s kissing you again, his mouth moving against yours as you feel him press against you, hot and hard, and you let out a soft gasp. “need you,” he murmurs, almost pleading, and that raw honesty sends a thrill through you. you nod, breathless, and he positions himself, sliding inside you slowly, giving you a moment to adjust. it feels incredible, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he was made for you.

“god, you’re so tight,” he groans, burying his face in your neck, and the sound of his voice makes you moan softly. as he starts moving, the rhythm is slow at first, deliberate, and you feel every thrust, every movement building inside you. he’s murmuring your name, breathless, and the heat between you is consuming. you wrap your legs tighter around him, pulling him in deeper, urging him to go faster.

“yeah? you like that?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin as he quickens the pace. it feels electric, every thrust sending shockwaves through you, and you nod, lost in the sensation.

“so good, chris,” you moan, the words tumbling out as you feel that familiar coil tightening deep inside you. he leans back, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes, and it drives you wild. “gonna make you feel good, okay?” he says, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart race.

with each thrust, the world outside fades away. it’s just the two of you, the heat of the moment enveloping you, and you feel that sweet pressure building, your body responding to every touch, every whisper, until you’re trembling around him, ready to fall apart.

“come on, babe,” he encourages, his voice low and rough, and you can hear the strain in it as he moves faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “can’t hold on much longer,” you breathe, feeling that familiar rush as he hits just the right spot, sending you spiraling.

“let go for me,” he says, his voice thick with desire, and the way he looks at you, his eyes dark and hungry, pushes you over the edge. with a loud gasp, you’re coming undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and he follows right after, burying himself deep as he lets go. the sound of his voice, mixed with yours, fills the tiny bathroom, and in that moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in each other, together again in a way you thought you’d never be.

as you both come down from the high, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. he doesn’t say anything, just lets the silence settle between you, a quiet, unspoken apology wrapped up in the way he looks at you, his eyes softer than you remember, like maybe he’s finally realized what he’s been missing all along.

and for now, it’s enough to let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[calypsocolada]

MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?” 

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again. 

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya. 

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since. 

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived. 

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed. 

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet. 

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons. 

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds. 

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile. 

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes. 

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind  it took shape. 

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks. 

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family. 

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command. 

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer. 

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away. 

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test. 

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair. 

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way. 

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced. 

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword. 

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders. 

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.  

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station. 

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart. 

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew. 

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of. 

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work. 

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?” 

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you? 

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way. 

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head. 

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. 

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight. 

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement. 

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed. 

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often. 

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head. 

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first. 

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game. 

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back. 

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that. 

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction. 

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal. 

“Y/n? Are you alright?” 

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?” 

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen. 

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed. 

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another. 

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.  

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku. 

But you loved Giyu. 

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.

[jaylaxies]

RULE NUMBER 1: DON'T FALL IN LOVE

PAIRING: jake × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fake dating, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, drunk sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of sunghoon, heeseung, jay and mark, mentions of karina and yunjin, Imk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 16.2k words

SYNOPSIS: your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous!

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 anonnie requested for me to make a jake version of my jeno fic and the poll voted in support so here we are! (both fics are mine) i hope you guys enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Drink and forget. 

That was your plan for the night, and what’s a better way to achieve it than attending a party with your friends?

“Woah! Girl, slow down,” Yunjin scolded you, taking the shot glass out of your hand, “it’s been half an hour, Y/n. If you take another shot then you’re going back to the dorm.”

You groaned, “you know why I’m doing this Yun. I should’ve listened to you and Rina.”

Heeseung almost whined, “what’s the point anymore? You didn’t listen to them and still fell for him instead of me which resulted in him breaking your heart.” 

That earned him a smack on his head by Ningning, who now turned to you with a smile to lighten up your mood, “it’s been two weeks already, babe! Let’s forget about him and dance—” she said, her last word trailed off as she stared at the party entrance, the same time the music got loud. 

“I can’t believe he left so easily,” you whispered to yourself, gulping down your sentiments before paying attention to where your friends were staring, turning around to look at the entrance gate. 

There he was, the reason why you had been cooped up in your room, crying your heart out. The reason why you were drinking to numb your feelings, yet it all went downhill the second your eyes fell on him. 

Park Sunghoon. 

His walk was confident, his sculpted face looked more charming than ever as he sported his ever so appealing smirk looking indifferent to what had happened between you both. 

Topping it all, he had a girl clinging on to his arm, giggling as she pulled his arm to be pressed between her tits. She was clad in a mini dress which barely hid her ass and your friends couldn’t help but glance back at you with a nervous expression on their faces. 

Your face, however, remained stoic as you exhibited no sign of emotions despite feeling the anger burning up inside you, your fist clenching as you saw them walk towards your group. 

You couldn’t believe how Sunghoon was the same guy who used to give you shy smiles whenever your groups used to sit together as he was a close friend of Mark and Heeseung. 

Your friends had warned you, they did, but you were so blinded by his innocent face and pure smile which held secret promises of sincerity and a hope of something more. You took your time to notice that he cared for you, even waiting outside your classes with a bouquet at times. 

He had you swooning, ignoring the warnings and signs you should have seen coming. His sweet talk lured you right into his trap, and you found yourself saying yes to him in a heartbeat, marking the onset of your honeymoon phase. It was dreamy, to the point even your friends were convinced he had changed his ways and finally decided to settle down. 

Yet, deep inside you could feel your gut telling you that it won’t last, and he proved it just right when he forgot your one month anniversary, when he forgot the flavour of your favourite ice cream, when he didn’t bother calling you or taking you out on dates. 

When he admitted that he was bored and wanted out. 

It lasted for two months before he decided to break up, leaving you standing by yourself in your dorm, tears cascading down your face before your roommates heard a broken cry leave your mouth. Yunjin and Karina never left your side after that. 

Others tried to talk some sense into Sunghoon but it was as useful as a chocolate teapot. 

The hope of him regretting his decision went downhill when you saw him with this new girl, barely two weeks after your break up, the corner of his lips turned up into his usual smirk as he stood in front of you all, getting no smile or greetings yet he wasn’t one to mind. 

It was a rare sight to see his best friend frowning, nonetheless a frown of disappointment settled on Jake’s lips. 

Despite the loud music and the array of sweaty bodies dancing all over the room, you could feel the deafening silence in the circle of your group until a small whine came out of Sunghoon’s new girl toy, who pouted and whispered something in his ear, giving you the opportunity to look at Yunjin, who looked equally disgusted at the exchange. 

The girl must have asked him to introduce her because he nodded with his usual smile, turning around to face everyone as he spoke up, “hey guys! Meet my new girlfriend.” He motioned at her to speak up. 

Her fake giggle made you want to throw up, and you noticed how you weren’t the only one who felt this way as Heeseung excused himself from the conversation, rolling his eyes, which made you smile. 

That didn’t stop her, “hi guys!” She exclaimed, dragging out the hi, “I’m Linda.”

A series of snorts and coughed up laughs emerged as she proceeded to introduce herself, which included you who tried your best not to laugh at her oblivious state, completely disregarding the fact that she was not welcomed here. 

No matter how heartbroken you were, feeling like a fool as Sunghoon’s eyes took your outfit in wasn’t something you’d allow to happen. You didn’t bother excusing yourself as you left the circle, Yunjin following you in a beat as you just missed the whine Linda let out at your disrespectful actions. 

“The fucking audacity?” Yunjin was furious, your inner turmoil matching her expression, “I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to bring that bimbo here.”

You wasted no time in gulping down your fourth shot, no one bothered to stop you this time, knowing well you needed it as you tried to keep your tears at bay, it was too late to say you regretted saying yes to the player. 

Your body felt hot as your mind clouded into a hazier state, the confidence overpowered your painful state, your legs taking you to your friends who knew you were drunk beyond your capacity as you danced with them, rolling your body and letting yourself free. 

Yet the one thing that never left your mind was revenge. 

You wanted revenge. 

The booming voice of your alarm clock was successful in contributing to your raging headache as you opened your eyes with a deep groan, feeling disoriented and your hangover building up. 

“Fuck—” you muttered, shutting up your alarm. 

You were surprised to notice the medicines and a bottle of water that was kept on your nightstand, and you didn’t waste a second before gulping it down to help your headache as well as your parched throat. 

Being grateful that it was a Sunday, you slumped back down, trying to recall the night but the only memory that stayed in your head was the one of Linda squishing Sunghoon’s arm on her boobs. Your jaw clenched at how easily he moved on. 

Just then, Karina entered the room with a small smile. She was the only one who looked normal as she wasn’t present at the party yesterday. 

“Oh! I was just coming to wake you up. We’re all going out for brunch since no one is in their right mind to cook,” she informed you with an amused look, noticing how you were still wearing your dress from last night.  

A shower was exactly what you needed at the given point as you tried your best to get ready in fifteen minutes, your mind filled with ideas to take revenge, no matter how childish it sounded. But how? Well, searching the net didn’t help much. You weren’t going to post a bad picture of him in the name of revenge.  

It also wouldn’t work because it was impossible for him to have a bad picture, much to your dismay. 

You sighed, linking your arms with Yunjin and Karina as you got out of the car which the latter drove as you walked inside your usual diner to see everyone sitting together after aligning the tables. 

Heeseung pulled you to sit with him, he barely had his eyes open as Mark went on telling everyone how Heeseung got pissed drunk last night and made out with his knee while crying. 

The scene was easy to imagine which made you all burst into laughter at the poor boy who could only whine, “your knee tastes like mustard!” 

The laughter died down when you felt a repeat of yesterday happening yet again. It was a friends only brunch, but apparently, Sunghoon’s Linda didn’t get the memo. 

You could see his best friend trailing behind him yet again and you wondered how Jake handled Sunghoon despite his actions, which now made everyone uncomfortable to some extent. 

“Should I punch that asshole?” Heeseung asked, whispering in your ear and you sighed for the tenth time today, shaking your head as you completely ignored the two people and focused on eating and chatting with the ones who made you feel better, however, you could feel Sunghoon’s eyes staring at you. 

You just wanted to go back, already tired of the couple who couldn’t keep their public display of affection at bay. Now you were sure it wasn’t just the hangover that made you wanna puke. 

“I think I just lost my appetite,” you commented, causing the guy in front of you to snigger. 

You looked up for the first time to see Jake sitting opposite to you, sending you a smile once he saw you looking his way, which you returned easily. 

He usually kept to himself and he wasn’t the talkative one in the group. You had only talked to him while greeting him whenever your groups met, and once when Sunghoon got drunk beyond control at a party and so you had to call Jake to pick him up. Your interactions were limited to him because of one person. 

Your smile dropped the second you heard that annoying giggle again, Jake only looked your way with a small frown after as you averted your gaze back to your lap, gulping down your anger. 

The sound of a message notification from your phone grabbed your attention, and you opened it to find your group chat being active. 

Uni haters 🤬👊🏼 (minus Sunghoon) mOrk: uhh yo guys this is awkward 😬 heedungie: can’t believe i lost my title of annoying king to sunghoon’s gf??? 🤬 ningx2: she’s not even a guy yunjinnie: but she’s annoying ningx2: can’t argue w that 🤪 rinaa: let’s just eat and leave as soon as we can, the air is suffocating me 🤕 you: too late i can’t eat anymore 🤡 jay: im leaving i can’t w this bullshit, she didn’t even wear her wig properly  mOrk: holy shit? she’s got a wig on?!?! 😨 You laughed as you noticed Jay calling the waiter for the bill, which you all split as soon as you could and made your way out of the suffocating place, leaving the two in there as Jake too, decided to leave early. 

The drive back home was barely five minutes long, which soothed your nerves as you sang along to old songs Yunjin played on the speakers. 

They could notice how you looked exhausted, but it was more than that, they knew you had something in your mind and it was related to none other than your ex. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Yunjin asked once you entered your shared dorm room. 

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine!” You tried laughing but it came out fake, causing Karina to raise her brows. 

“Spill. Right now,” she ordered, making you sit in between them as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, which wasn’t directed to them. 

“Fine. I want revenge,” you confessed, “he looks so happy and unbothered as if nothing happened? How can he say hi to me as if it’s the most casual thing in this world after he broke up with me saying he got bored? Ugh I hate his guts!” You ranted. 

“So, do you have any plans for that?” Yunjin asked. 

“Not really,” you muttered, “safari really recommended me to flirt with other guys in front of him,” you laughed, picking at the pillow cover of your couch. 

Yunjin refrained herself from snorting, “would he be jealous of a random guy though?” 

Karina laughed along, “yeah it’s not like you can date his best friend to make him jealous?” 

Your eyes widened, your head turning slowly as your lips curled into a devilish grin, immediately causing your friends to exchange nervous glances and speak up. 

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re considering this,” Karina blinked, incredulous. 

“Listen—” you started, only to be cut off midway. 

“No way,” a breathy laugh left Yunjin as she tried to contain her words and make you understand without any cussing. 

“It’s not a bad idea, okay?” You tried to convince her. 

“So what? Are you gonna seduce Jake?” She asked. 

You laughed which sounded more like a pfft, “of course not, silly! We’ll fake date each other!” You said, face shining as if you had presented the greatest idea known to mankind. 

“Be so for real right now,” Karina deadpanned. 

“Lord, Y/n think straight. This is real life, you’re not in a cheesy rom-com movie or a book,” Yunjin provided her input. 

“I know! But I just have to make him jealous for what? A month before he gets bored of that Linda girlie, and maybe Jake would agree to it too!” You nodded at the possibilities. 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Yunjin rubbed her eyes, “me either,” Karina said as they both looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. 

Your smile only got wider, “this is the best way to make it work!” You announced before looking at Karina sheepishly, “please send me Jake’s number Rina,” you said in a sweet voice, knowing she was the social butterfly of the university before you waved a goodbye at them, walking into your room, formulating a plan alongside. 

“This is gonna be a disaster, right?” Karina asked Yunjin, sighing. 

“Oh definitely, it’ll be a show.”

You walked in your room, contemplating if it would be alright to discuss this on text or if you should meet up with him, the latter option was more plausible yet scary because what if Jake laughed at you? What if he didn’t agree to work with you for the sake of his friendship. 

With such a stupefied idea, the possibilities were endless. Besides, you weren’t gonna ask for a lot, just a little hand holding, maybe hugging but nothing beyond that. You have to play pretend and smile a lot around each other. That would sell your drama and that would make Sunghoon jealous and realize that he lost a gem. 

You waited and thought about it for a few days before finally giving in. 

You took a deep breath, giving yourself a last nod of encouragement before you picked up your phone, saving the number Karina had forwarded you and clicking on his profile before sending a text. 

To: Jake🐾 You: heyy jake! 🥰 it’s Y/n, can we meet up?  You wondered if that emoji was too much, but you did not get enough time to ponder upon it as Jake texted you back in a minute.  Jake🐾:  Hey, Y/n :) sure, is everything okay? You: yess! i just need to talk to you about something :3 Jake🐾: How about Starbucks at 5?  You: perfect, i’ll be there ^^ Jake🐾: See you <3

Your mouth widened at the heart at the end of the text, before you brushed it off, thinking that he sent it by mistake, or to seem kind. You kept your phone on the nightstand, standing in front of your closet to select an outfit for your meeting. 

The plan was made, you just had to discuss it with Jake but you had never talked to him before, maybe that is why your heartbeat rose up. He was a good looking guy, there’s no denying that and you’ve heard that he was one of the smart ones too. 

You bit your lip as you straightened out your top, rethinking your life decisions. There was no backing out now. You looked in the mirror again, satisfied with your outfit and makeup. You knew you looked stunning as you grabbed your phone and bag before driving Karina’s car to your desired destination. 

The place was almost empty except for a few people who sat and worked on their laptops. It was easy to spot Jake, his dark hair shone under the dim lights of the cafe, he pushed his specs up for it to rest on his perfectly pointy nose, his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on reading a book which you had never heard the name of. 

His aura looked calming, which boosted your confidence as you made your way towards the table he was sitting at. It was near the window, at the end of the cafe, which gave you enough privacy. Somehow the seating choice felt very Jake to you. 

Clearing your throat, you mustered up your courage, smiling slightly. “Hey, Jake!” You spoke, looking him in the eye. 

That was enough to capture his attention, he looked up at you with a smile that reached his eyes. 

He looked adorable. 

“Y/n! Hey, come sit please,” he said, gesturing at the seat on the opposite side of him. 

His eyes were soft as they looked at you sitting down, noticing a strand of hair which you tucked behind your ear, finally looking up at him, trying to find the right words to start the conversation. 

“Isn’t it weird how we’ve never talked before?” You chuckled, causing him to nod with a small laugh. 

“That’s true. How can I help you today?” He asked, keeping the book aside, carefully placing a bookmark before doing so. 

You kept your confident smile on, “I needed your help with this hypothesis I have,” you nodded as you explained it to him, and he was sure that the meet up was for academic purposes now, “so I need to take a little survey. Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked.

He nodded as you took out a notepad and pen from the bag you were carrying. 

“Sure, I’d be glad to help,” he smiled, eyes turning into soft crescents, which you stopped to stare for a second too long before realizing that he was waiting for your questions. 

You snapped out of your daze as you started scribbling on your notepad, “your full name?” 

“Don’t you know it?” He asked, confused. 

“Shh just answer, it’s the official protocol.” You huffed. 

“Sim Jaeyun.”

“Gender?” 

“Seriously—” 

“Just say it!” 

“Okay, fine. Male.”

“What’s your age?”

“I’m 20.”

“Introvert, extrovert or ambivert?”

“Introverted.”

“Marital status?”

“What?”

“Single? Okay. So on a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to help me get back at your best friend by being my fake boyfriend?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jake blinked once. Then twice. “You lost me on that one,” he spoke up. 

His eyes displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, and maybe it was your figment of imagination that you saw him snigger but you weren’t the one to give up. 

Your lips jutted out in a pout, eyes shiny as you looked up at him, “c’mon! You won't let a girl beg for a little help, right? Especially when she was hurt so very deeply by the said ex, right?” 

Jake looked at you, your pout only deepening in the hopes of him accepting your idea. He only leaned on his arm, coming closer with an enthralled smile. 

“So what you’re suggesting here is that I fake date you to get back at my best friend for hurting you?” He confirmed and you nodded enthusiastically, “how’s it going to work?”

“Easy! Sunghoon isn’t the one who gets affected by a lot of things but if I date his best friend, that’s you, then he would get jealous and would regret breaking up with me,” you explained, “then I won’t take him back,” you announced, a triumphant smile on your face. 

Jake nodded, as if contemplating whether the offer was worth it, “what do I get out of it?” He asks. 

“A fake and pretty girlfriend of course,” you smiled, “and a chance to teach your best friend some manners,” you shrugged as if it was a win-win situation. 

Jake’s expression didn’t give out what he was thinking and you were patiently looking at him for some sort of answer, hopefully a positive one. 

“Do I have time to think?” He asks. 

“I would give you some but then I’m an anxious being,” you stated which elicited a laugh out of him as he never expected that coming out of you. 

But he had seen it all, the way Sunghoon behaved with you. He forgot all important dates, gave priority to his parties and the friend group which was potentially harmful for him, not to mention that his reason for breaking up was worse than the worst excuse, saying he got bored, only to find a girl two weeks later. Jake truly hated Linda as she accidentally broke his favourite vase while she made out with Sunghoon in their shared apartment. 

“Fine. How are we going to go about this?” Jake sighed, giving in finally as he saw your face practically lighting up with excitement. 

“Wait! Does this mean you’re in?” You asked just to be sure. 

“I don’t think I have any other option,” he teases but you don’t mind, you were simply enjoying the feeling of victory already, “so, now what?” He asks, finally realizing what he had gotten himself into. 

Fake dating. 

“Now, we’re going to set some ground rules, which of course, we’ll write down and sign as a contract,” you say, getting a page out of your notepad. 

“Like that one movie by Jenny Han?” He raised his brows. 

You stopped to think for a second, “yeah but it’s not like we’ll fall in love or something,” you shrugged with a laugh and he nodded. 

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Signatures

You passed the sheet to Jake, “anything you’d like to change?” You asked as he read it all, and you noticed his brows slightly scrunching as he did so, exactly how they were scrunched when he was reading his book earlier. 

“I’m assuming you told your friends already,” he pointed out rule number six, to which you nodded sheepishly. 

“No kissing?” He asked, “you know no one’s gonna buy it if we don’t kiss, right? But of course, if you’re not comfortable then it’s fine.”

You bit your lower lip, wondering if you should consider it since he was right. Kissing is the easiest way to show affection, “I think you’re right, we’ll do it only when it’s required,” you said, and he nodded. 

You wondered how he was so calm with all of this, and you liked that he was asking questions about it all. 

“What’s with the nicknames?” He read rule number four. 

“Sunghoon is big on nicknames, I bet he calls you some too. He used to call me princess,” you sighed, remembering how it used to be. It hurt but the current hatred overtook that feeling. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

Your eyes widened at his deep, accented tone, but he only smiled, “just practising,” he said and you nodded, gulping down. 

“Okay, so is the list done?” You inquired. 

“Yeah, I just have to add one thing,” he said, scribbling down another rule while you asked him random questions. 

“Have you ever dated before?” 

He shook his head, “you’re my first,” he winked, and you wondered how he was so good at flirting. 

“So—” you were going to ask another question but it seems like he knew what it was. 

“I know I’m silent but it doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced,” he stated, and you were amused as it was the first time he saw him being this way, “besides, this deal of ours would benefit me by driving the girls away.”

“Right,” you snickered, looking at what he had written, “why PDA?” you asked. 

“Because that’s the key to irritate Hoon, especially with Linda around who sees no other seat but Hoon’s lap,” he explained as your face scrunched at the image. 

“You really are smart,” you muttered, signing the contract before handing it to him, who was quick to sign it too before you extended your hand. 

His big hand encased yours in a handshake and you couldn’t help, but notice how his fingers were slender, veins visible on his hands as his grip was firm on your hand. 

You had sealed the deal. 

Y/n and Jake’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

PDA whenever the target is around!

Goal: make Sunghoon regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Y/n       Jake 

Signatures

“Listen, I know plans don’t work at times, there’s no reason to be sad over it—wait why are you smiling? There’s no way—” Yunjin asked as soon as you entered your dorm after your meeting with Jake.  

“He agreed,” you squealed. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jake? The scholar guy who’s silent for the majority of the time, the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before, he agreed to fake date you?” Karina’s mouth was hung open and you only nodded excitedly. 

They both looked at each other before nodding, “now, you need a day out. We’re talking waxing, getting your hair done, and preferably your nails too since you’ve had that colour for too long and new clothes—” they made a list as they successfully dragged you out for all of it the next day, saying it’s a little something they’d want to contribute to your fake dating strategy. 

You didn’t mind a bit of it, being pampered was something you loved and it was long due as you had devoted all your time to crying after your breakup. 

It was when Monday rolled by when it finally settled in. You were going to pretend to date Jake Sim, in front of everyone. Your friends gave you last minute pep talks and you were more than glad that they had decided to help you dress up too. Just then your phone rang with a notification. 

Jake🐾: Morning, sunshine <3 Ready to sell our show?  You: good morning!! i'm more than ready! are you tho? 👀 Jake🐾: I’m already waiting for you outside, love ;)

You almost choked on the water you were drinking as you remembered the rules. 

You had to go to the university with him. 

“Bye guys! He’s here,” you said to your roommates, getting up and grabbing your bag as you made your way out in a hurry. 

Jake was standing by his car as he lived in the apartments and not the dorms, which was ten minutes away from your university campus. As for your dorms, they were a solid five minutes walk from your room. 

He looked up from your phone as he heard you walking closer to him, “hey,” he smiled. 

“So punctual, you’re right on time,” you said, “seems like you’re excited.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger seat door for you, “I can’t say I’m not excited to see other’s reactions,” he admitted as you sat down inside, thanking him softly. 

Sunghoon had never once opened the door for you. 

He got in the car, focusing on the road, “what’s the goal for today, princess?” He asked in his deep tone. 

You blamed your overly sensitive skin for the tingling you felt due to his voice, also sitting to notice how his face looked like a sculpture.  

“Soft launching our relationship,” you answered, clicking his picture. 

“In the cafeteria, during lunch then?” 

“Exactly! You just have to sit next to me and smile, that’ll be enough for Heeseung to suspect something,” you explained the basic plan just in time as you reached the university parking lot. 

“Why? Do I never smile?” He asked, getting his seatbelt off. 

“You do, but only to our group. Others are limited to a neutral expression only,” you pointed out as if you had analysed him fully. 

“Wait,” he stopped you from opening the car door, getting out and opening it for you with a tiny smile. 

Well that worked since people were nosy enough to notice a girl coming out of Jake’s car, which is a scene that never occurs. 

He politely offered you his hand as he helped you stand up. His hand was warm juxtaposing your cold ones, as he pulled you towards him, your shoulder pressed against his chest, which you could feel was chiselled, he definitely had pecks. 

“Smile, princess,” he whispered, and you overcame your state of hyper focus on him before putting on your best smile. 

“What are we doing?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jake was somehow really good at looking at you with fondness in his eyes, he’d be a nice theatre guy if he takes up acting someday. 

“Dropping my girlfriend to her class, of course,” he said smoothly, and you started walking, hand in hand. 

“You’re pretty good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” You teased, noticing others staring at your hands. 

“Why? Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?” He asked back and you were truly amazed to see him retorting to your questions, given that you had barely seen him talk before. 

He felt your hand slipping and quickly intertwined your fingers. The gesture made sure to send a shiver down your spine. 

Sunghoon never held your hand while walking. 

“We’re just getting started, we’ll see how it goes,” you suggested, causing him to nod and continue the conversation you had left off. 

“So what you were saying back in the car is that people perceive me as someone who’s mean?” He tilted his head in question. 

“Of course not! They perceive you as someone who’s unapproachable.” You say seriously, you both stopped walking as you had reached the class. 

He blinked at you once. You blinked back. 

And you both burst out into soft laughter before he ruffled your hair slightly, bending down to your level, “study well, princess.” He winked, walking away to attend his own lecture. 

You tried your best to focus on the lecture as you jotted down the notes alongside, however the feeling of thrill kept your leg bouncing the entire time, your mind working out possible scenarios with everyone’s reactions. 

Soon, the classes were over and it was the time for your lunch break, which also meant that it was the time for you and Jake to act in front of everyone else. 

“We’ll cheer for you,” Karina said and you could only laugh at her expression. She still couldn’t believe that you were going through with this. 

From the entrance of the big cafeteria, you could easily spot the table where everyone had already assembled. 

“Ready?” A deep voice whispered in your ear, successfully causing you to jump back. 

But Jake was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer before you could trip, his eyes equally widened as yours, “god! You scared me,” you said, breathing in deeply to calm your heart. 

You could feel his scent infiltrating your senses, it was a perfect blend of woody and citrus, which was also paired with slight musk and mandarin. He smelled really good. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, letting go so you could stand straight. 

His eyes were full of worry, mouth slightly agape and you smiled to let him know you were okay. “Now, smile and talk,” you said as you both walked into the cafeteria. 

“Do I really never smile?” He asked you, “because people are staring.”

“I told you already! You smile only when you’re around our friends and we have never really talked before, at least in front of others,” you laughed. 

The whole group went silent as the two of you approached. Heeseung was the first one to raise his eyebrows as you sat down with him, but Jake didn’t sit next to Sunghoon. Instead, he sat down next to you. 

Linda, as usual, was sitting on Sunghoon’s lap, but that didn’t stop Hoon from staring at you and Jake. 

“Something is fishy,” Heeseung pointed out. 

“What is?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

Jake was silent when he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You could feel your stomach tingling, and he simply smiled your way. 

“Firstly, I saw you getting out of Jake’s car in the morning,” Hee noted, “secondly, he was holding your hand and he walked you to the class. Thirdly, he’s been smiling nonstop.”

“Dude, no way!” Mark simply laughed, thinking it’s another one of Heeseung’s jokes. 

Ningning looked lost while Jay seemed to be focusing on your expression, “I don’t think it’s one of his jokes this time,” he said. 

“It’s really not!” Hee argued, glad that Jay was agreeing. 

“Does this mean—” Mark’s eyes widened. 

“—that they’re dating,” Yunjin said, acting her best as she widened her eyes, almost standing up at the confession. 

A series of gasps left their mouths, “what?” They collectively exclaimed. 

You tried your best to hold in your laugh as Jake turned to look at you, and from the side of your eyes, you could notice Sunghoon staring at you deeply with his jaw clenched. 

“They are! Look! He’s got his arm around her waist,” Heeseung exclaimed in an overdramatic way. 

“Guys—” you tried to say but Jake stopped you. 

“It’s fine, princess. They know now,” he smiled, pulling you even closer in a side hug. 

That caused Ningning, Mark and Heeseung to scream while Linda squealed, jumping on Hoon’s lap. 

Jake caressed the corner of your lip adoringly, “no need to hide it from our friends, baby,” he said before looking up, “Heeseung is right, we are dating.”

“What the fuck?”

“Since when?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck?”

All eyes turned to Ningning in disbelief as she asked the question, “what? I’m curious,” she shrugged, everyone looking at Sunghoon subtly to observe his reaction. 

You leaned into Jake’s chest, making yourself comfortable as you saw everyone chatting excitedly, your eyes settling on your ex for just a moment to see his furrowed brows and hardened eyes, a vein popping out from his neck. 

Day one, successful. 

“So you’re dating now, huh?” Sunghoon’s voice asked Jake as he entered their shared apartment. 

Sunghoon was sitting on the couch, face devoid of expressions as he asked the question. 

Jake chuckled softly, gripping his bag tighter as he walked into the room, standing in front of Sunghoon, “yeah. Who would’ve seen that coming?”

That caused the other boy to chuckle along, but it sounded strained, almost ending with a scoff, “I certainly didn’t see it coming.”

“You don’t sound happy for me,” Jake said, his tone teasing. 

Sunghoon was trying hard to keep his fake smile up, “What makes you think so?”

“Your smile. It’s strained,” Jake pointed out, grabbing the bottle of beer in front of Sunghoon and taking a sip out of it. 

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, looking Jake dead in the eye, “how can you date her? What happened to the bro code?” 

Jake remained calm, “why? Weren’t you the one who was done with her?”

“She’s my fucking ex, Jake,” he snapped. 

“That’s right, she’s your ex. She’s not yours anymore, she’s my girl.” Jake smiled, keeping the beer back on the table before walking away. 

“Oh! And, try to be happy for us now, Hoon. I don’t want my princess to be sad because of us, yeah?��� Jake gave him his infamous eye smile before returning to his room.

The plan was working. 

You didn’t have morning classes the next day, which is why you had to walk to the main campus instead of getting a ride with your fake boyfriend. Yet you left your dorm an hour before your lecture to meet up with Jake as he had something to tell you. 

The one thing you liked about your University was its beauty, the gardens and fresh flowers only heightened up your spirits as you tried to find Jake in the garden of the STEM faculty, which was mostly empty. 

You spotted Jake waiting for you by a tree. He was reading the same book he had in the cafe the other day, you had also noticed how frequently he used to go to libraries during your relationship with Sunghoon. He loved to read. 

“Hey,” you said, standing in front of him with a smile. 

“Hey there, princess,” he replied, making you tilt your head. 

“Why are you calling me that? We’re alone right now,” you laughed. 

“For practice, of course,” he said in a beat before he handed you a cup of coffee, the exact one which you get from your favourite cafe nearby. 

“How’d you know?” You blink, surprised at his sweet gesture, also thanking him for it. 

He shrugged, “I’m known to be attentive,” he said. 

Sunghoon never knew your favourite drink. 

“Sunghoon talked to me yesterday,” he told you as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“Yeah?” You asked, stepping closer to hear what he had to say. 

“Yeah, he truly hates this setting. He asked me how I could date you.”

“Oh my god, he didn’t even hesitate? What did you say back then?” You asked. 

“Hold on—” he said, grabbing your waist and turning you around, his hand resting on the back of your head as he pushed you against the tree. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes widening as he leaned closer, making your heart beat out of your chest as you looked into his honey brown eyes which were surrounded by little specks of gold. 

“Sunghoon,” he breathed out, “he’s here and he’s looking our way.”  

To Sunghoon, it might look as if Jake and you are kissing but his lips are still inches away from yours, his scent pleasing your olfactory receptors as your ex only scoffed and walked away. 

“Oh,” you said in understanding. 

Jake only chuckled, “so, he went on saying how you are his ex and I shouldn’t be dating you,” he continued to tell you the story. 

Only Jake Sim could talk so calmly in such a compromising position. You wondered if Sunghoon had left already. 

“What did you reply?” You asked, voice coming out in a whisper as your body became aware of his hand which rested on your waist. 

“That you’re not his anymore,” he claimed, “that you’re mine now.” He said, breathily. 

You gulped down your nervousness. You knew it was a part of the act yet you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingling ever so slightly as you nodded. 

“Is he gone?” You asked, referring to Sunghoon. 

Jake blinked twice, finally looking up to see no sign of your ex anymore as he stepped back and you breathed in deeply. 

“The plan is working perfectly then,” you let out softly. 

He nodded, eyes crinkling. 

“I almost forgot,” you gasped, “Yunjin gave me this idea that we should go on a date!” 

“A date?” He asked, knowing that it’ll just be the two of you there. 

“Yes. It’s honestly just to make it believable. We can go out, click pictures and have a good time by eating good food,” you said, looking in his eyes for confirmation. 

“Sure, let’s do that,” he agreed, making you smile as you said you’d text him the details before rushing to your lecture. 

Jake simply leaned back, staring at your rushing figure with tender eyes. 

Another week had gone by swiftly and the only thing that bothered you were the girls who came up to you, asking if you were truly in a relationship with Jake, to which you said yes with the sweetest smile you could muster, crushing all their hopes of having a future with your fake boyfriend. 

Heeseung was hellbent on knowing more about this newfound relationship of yours, Ningning simply wanted to know if the calm and silent guy was good in bed, Yunjin and Karina were amazing at acting as if they didn’t know it was fake. Mark approached Jake as he tried to get a few tips out of him since Mark wanted to man up and confess to his crush. 

As for Sunghoon, you hadn’t seen him for the past two days. He didn’t sit with your group during lunch, nor was in any of your shared lectures. Even his girlfriend came to ask you guys if you had seen him. Only Jake knew that Sunghoon had spent the past two days drinking at their apartment. 

That was the least of your concerns as Ningning kept asking you random questions. 

“Favourite hair colour on guys?” She asked. 

“Black looks heavenly,” you admitted. 

“And haircut?” She asked Karina.

“Anything as long as it’s not a bowl cut,” she winced, distaste for that haircut clear on her face. 

“But guys, undercut looks so fucking hot, you have to admit that,” you pointed out and everyone seemed to agree with you. 

The conversation was casual but Jake decided to take it up a notch and surprise you with something you had decided upon, yet never executed. 

“Let’s go on a date today, baby,” Jake suggested, again making everyone stop and stare at you both. 

“Dude, how are you so cool?” Mark whined, wanting to do the same with his crush. 

“I thought you were shy, but I guess the silent ones are the freakiest,” Ningning commented. 

“He’s literally talking about a date, Ning,” you sighed. 

“I can't believe he took you away from me,” Heeseung shook his head as you gave him a look. 

“You guys were never together in the first place,” Karina reminded him, and he sobbed dramatically. 

Jake looked at you expectantly, his eyes seemed bigger than usual and you could swear they were shining just the perfect amount. It somehow made you look away, biting your lower lip in the process before you nodded. 

“I’d love to,” you admitted. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at five,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it on his right shoulder. 

He noticed how you looked happy this particular day, your face had a certain kind of glow to it and your smile was brighter. It seemed as if you were doing better now, and your friends really loved to see you this way. 

He bent down, touching your cheek tenderly, pressing his lips on your forehead ever so gently, making your eyes flutter close at the soothing sensation. 

“See you then, princess,” he whispered, looking at you one last time before going to attend his next lecture. 

“Did he just?” Heeseung covered his mouth. 

You were just as shocked as the others, not expecting any kind of PDA at all, especially when Sunghoon wasn’t around. That was the first time he had done it. You bit your lip yet again, looking down at your lap, trying to contain your smile. 

Yunjin and Karina looked at you before looking at each other with a knowing look. 

Then they smiled, wishing for the best.  

“What do I even wear?” You huff in distress, looking at your roommates who looked like statues seeing your bed full of random clothes tossed around. 

“You can simply ask him where you guys are gonna go, it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s a surprise,” Karina pointed out. 

You stopped, saying, “you’re right actually,” but then you whined, “I don’t wanna ask him such simple things, help me out guys.”

Yunjin sighed, mustering her stylist expression as she gave your wardrobe and your bed a once over, quickly getting all articles of clothing she wanted before handing them over to you, solving your problem in two minutes maximum. 

“Don’t you think this dress is a little fancy? I mean, we’re probably going to a local cafe,” You asked, cocking your brow. 

“Just trust me and wear this babygirl,” Yunjin said, using her usual nicknames. 

You had just finished applying your lip oil, concluding your makeup as you got a notification from Jake saying he was outside your dorm. 

You smiled unknowingly at the text, a feeling of excitement, or rather, giddiness creeping up your stomach as you bid your roommates goodbye, grabbing your purse and not forgetting to thank them for tolerating your tantrums. 

Walking out of the dorm and towards the exit, you stopped as you saw Jake leaning against his car, which wasn’t an unusual sight for you, however, you had never expected to see him in a black jacket, thinking that he’d be clad in his usual hoodies. 

His hair was neatly trimmed as he sported an undercut, which he didn’t have in the morning, meaning he got it cut right after your classes. 

Right after you revealed your liking for the particular haircut. 

“Jake,” you whispered, walking closer to him, noticing how he wasn’t wearing his usual specs either, probably opting for the lenses instead. 

He was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixated on the flower he held in his hand, completely immersed in his thoughts before he looked up to see you standing right in front of him. 

“Y/n,” he murmured, his heart pounding slightly as he noticed the light breeze gently swaying the hem of your dress, “you look beautiful,” he smiled, dissipating your jittering nerves and sending a wave of warmth through your chest. 

“You look so—” you tried to find the right word, eyes never leaving his face as you had never seen him look so bold before, “captivating.”

He laughed at your statement, “here,” he said, extending his arm and passing you the flower he had gotten for you, the tips of your fingers brushed against his ever so slightly, “glad I could captivate you, sweetheart,” he whispered, winking at you. 

You were left stunned, wondering where did he get his sudden boost of confidence from as you sat inside his car, watching him start the car, gripping the steering wheel normally, yet it made the veins of his hands pop out. 

You cleared your throat, “so, where are you taking me today?” You asked him. 

“Well, that’s something you’ll have to wait and see,” he teased, building up your anticipation. 

“Okay, is it far though?” You asked, falling into a conversation with him so easily, and he told you it would be an hour long drive, making you wonder where you were off to. 

There was something so endearing about others sharing their favourite things and talking about them, you loved to hear all of it and you felt even better seeing Jake comfortable around you as he went on telling you about the books he’d been reading and recommending the ones you’d like. 

One hour felt like a few minutes with him, time passing by effortlessly. Your lips parted in surprise once you saw where you were.

It was the fancy restaurant you’d been wishing to visit from the past year, but never got a chance to do so, “oh my god, I really wanted to come here to eat,” you told him, smile brightening and you were glad you had dressed up for it. 

“I know,” he said, extending his arm for you to hold. 

You looked at him, incredulous, “how?” 

“I asked Karina,” he admitted as you held on to his arm softly. 

You were thoroughly surprised at his revelation, knowing that he could’ve taken you to any normal place nearby but he chose this. You were in awe at how beautiful the interior was as you focused on the little details here and there. 

“You didn’t have to do so much, Jake,” you whispered, loving how his skin shone under the light of the chandelier. 

He shook his head softly, eyes never leaving your face, “I know it’s a fake date but it doesn’t mean that I’ll take you to our usual cafés, you deserve more than that.”

You breathed in softly, breaking eye contact and looking at your fiddling fingers. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest. Everything he did felt so genuine and well thought of. He cared about your likes and dislikes, he always took a note of your preferences. 

Sunghoon never did that. 

“You’re too fucking sweet,” you muttered under your breath so he can’t hear it. 

“Hm?” He asked, menu in his hands as he scanned it thoroughly for all possible options. 

“Nothing,” you smiled, getting your phone out and clicking a few candid pictures of him, which did capture his attention. 

“What’s that for?” He looked at you with big eyes, his face giving out the cutest expressions despite him looking tough in his undercut and newfound style. 

“Why not? Can’t post my boyfriend on my story now?” You asked cheekily. 

It was something you both had decided you’d do, the likes and replies flooded in soon as your friends were flabbergasted at the fact that Jake had cut his hair and dressed up so well. 

You both decided upon the dishes you wished to have and the waiter noted it down kindly, leaving you two alone to talk after. 

“Won’t you post me too?” You asked. 

“I will, you just have to wait for a while. I promise it’ll be the prettiest picture ever,” he said, full of confidence. 

“Well, that’s a challenge then because I don’t usually like my photos,” you smirked and he leaned in. 

“We’ll see how that goes,” he challenged. 

It was great that you could share any kind of emotions with him, whether it was you being goofy, him being silent, or you being nervous as he turns to be confident. It was a mix of everything. 

Soon, your food was served to you and even the scent of the scrumptious meal was enough to make your mouth water as you hummed with delight with just one bite, saying it melted just perfectly in your mouth. 

You didn’t notice him watching your eager face, loving your reaction as he felt like he did the right thing bringing you here. Until you catch him watching you. 

“Is there something on my face?” You asked cluelessly, pouting as you ate another bite. 

“Actually, yeah there is,” he said, leaning closer to caress the corner of your lip with his thumb, brushing away the crumbs gently as you simply sat with your heart pounding at his gesture. Even more so when he smiled, licking his thumb, “all done.” 

“You’re really so good at it,” you muttered, and this time he heard it. 

“At what?”

“If you do this,” you said, gesturing at your lip, “to any girl then she’ll definitely swoon over you.”

He raised his brow, “why? Did you like it that much?” 

An awkward chuckle left your mouth as you tried to dismiss his question, “I’m just saying,” you state, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. 

He only laughed, “alright, sweetheart.”

You whined, and the other families around looked at you both with soft eyes, thinking you both were cute together as his eyes turned into crescents at your behaviour. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so at ease being out with someone. That wasn’t just all, Jake insisted on taking you to another place for a little walk. Night had fallen as you walked together on a rather empty bridge, yet it was a pretty sight—water reflecting the glistening stars along with the crescent moon. 

“How’s Sunghoon?” You asked all of a sudden, not noticing Jake’s smile faltering for a fraction of a second. 

“He’s coping in his own way. I bet he’ll be back to uni tomorrow. But he definitely regrets it,” Jake lets out slowly, “isn’t that your goal?” 

You stop walking, trying to find the right words, “yeah,” you whispered,  “but it’s not over until he confronts me himself. I need some closure,” you said, looking at him with a teasing smile now, “why? Don’t wanna be with me anymore?” 

He licked his lips, biting his tongue as he smiled, which you noticed was another habit of his, “of course not. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

“Yeah? Then tell me more about you,” you said, looking at the water as you folded your arms over the railing. 

He was silent for a few seconds, joining you to lean on the railing, “I’ve always been the shy kid I guess. I was the one who always used to read sitting in the corner of a class and so, I never really had friends.”

You didn’t glance at him, letting him speak freely. Jake was one of the kindest souls you had ever met and it was obvious even in the little time you had known him. You wanted him to be happy. 

“Hoon was my friend ever since we were kids, our families are really close so he was forced to befriend me. He didn’t mind it, he was the kindest child and helped me talk to others, he was also the reason why I met you guys,” he sighed, “Hoon was always first when it came to everything, he led the way for me and I let him do that each time.” He turned his head, looking your way as he whispered, “until I realized I should’ve been the first this one time.”

You couldn’t understand what he was referring to, yet you understood that Sunghoon was dear to him, however his recent actions caused him to drift apart from Jake. 

A flash of light took you out of your trance. Jake had clicked your picture, “show!” You said, almost jumping closer to him and his shoulders rose up as he laughed when you tried to get his phone from his hands. 

“You’ll see when I post it,” he said. 

You whined again, “but what if I look bad in the picture?”

“You can’t ever look bad, sweetheart,” he said earnestly and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you closed your mouth shut, biting your lip as you looked away shyly. 

He chuckled, “let’s get you home now.”

You checked the time on your wristwatch, “oh, yeah. It’s late.”

You both started walking towards his car, getting off the bridge as Jake saw you shiver with the sudden gust of chilly air hitting you. 

He wasted no time in getting his jacket off and passing it to you, “here, it’s cold.”

Your eyes widened to see him wearing nothing but a white tank underneath which displayed his muscles as the moonlight accentuated it further. You never knew he worked out, your eyes travelling to his arms which were veiny. 

Jake looked unreal, almost like the bad boys you’d see in a movie but his well sculpted face made him look like a Greek god. He really had it all. 

You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking as Jake wrapped his jacket around your figure, smiling slightly as you reached the car, his scent enveloped you aa you hugged the jacket closer to you.  

“T—thank you,” you spoke, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering. 

“Can’t let my girlfriend freeze now, can I?” He stated more than asked. 

He helped you get in the car by opening the door, which he always did. It was another habit of his which you found endearing. He got in the car soon, looking your way before he leaned in all of a sudden, his face inches away from yours, causing you to stop breathing for a few seconds. 

The shape of his lips was beautiful. 

He leaned back soon, dragging the seatbelt with him as he secured you in your seat. The proximity reminded you of how he kissed your forehead in the morning, and your mouth worked before your mind could as you asked him about it. 

“Uh, so—why did you kiss my forehead in the morning?” You inquired. 

He most certainly was not expecting that question, and his expression gave it away, “your friends were watching,” he stated, licking his lips, “and Mark was suspicious as we never kissed before or did anything other than hand holding,” he explained. 

“Did he ask you about it?” You questioned, hugging the jacket closer to your body. 

Jake hummed as a reply, seeing you get comfortable on the seat with droopy eyelids, he knew you were going to fall asleep soon and he let you. 

His heart could only take so much for one day. 

He made sure to drive safe, glancing at your sleeping figure from time to time and he swore you looked like a baby when you slept. 

You reached back safely and he stopped the car, he didn’t wish to wake you up when you looked so at peace. He called out your name softly, coming closer to pat your shoulder. 

You stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes slowly to find Jake close to you. 

“We’re here,” he spoke, voice low. 

“Oh,” you blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the street lights as you got out of the car, not expecting Jake to get out along with you. 

You looked at him in question and he just shrugged, his muscles flexing in the process, “let me walk you to your door,” he said. 

Sunghoon never walked you to your door. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a gentleman?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Not when it comes to you,” he uttered quietly. 

Heat rushed up the tip of your ears now that you stood in front of him, “Jake—” you whispered, “thank you so much for today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.”

A fake date, you reminded yourself. 

“It’s good to see you happy,” he took a step closer, “good night, princess.”

He was gentle as he slowly brushed his fingers on your forehead to tuck your hair behind your ear, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your forehead in a featherlight kiss. You closed your eyes, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin as he bid goodbye to you. 

He was walking away by the time you could open your eyes and breathe again, not even bothering to ask for his jacket back from you. 

You looked around your place once to see if your friends were watching this time. 

They weren’t. 

Your room had a tranquil atmosphere as the moonlight coming from the window lit it up. Your roommates were already asleep in their respective rooms as you got changed into your sleepwear and took your makeup off, carefully keeping Jake’s jacket on the bed, not once thinking that your pillow would exude a scent like him too. 

It was hard to sleep, as if you had a feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of you. Even after tossing and turning, you couldn’t find a perfect position to sleep, not to mention how your mind had created a montage of today’s date, replaying it over and over. 

You sighed, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes shut, hoping you’d get some sleep before waking up for Uni in the morning. And slowly, you drifted to dreamland with Jake’s scent lingering in the air. 

Your alarm clock was your enemy. You really needed a few more minutes to catch up on your sleep, grabbing your phone to see if there’s something that could drive your sleepiness away. 

There was. 

Your picture was the first thing you saw when you opened Instagram, it was posted by Jake instead of being put up as a story, which was unusual since he only had two pictures on his account—one of him and the other one of his pet dog. 

A soft gasp left your mouth, heart thumping out of your chest as you saw the picture. The flash made you glow and you had the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you looked at the night sky. 

It was indeed your prettiest picture anyone had ever captured, it was exactly what Jake had promised. 

The caption, however, made you turn around and grab your pillow as you screamed into it, kicking your feet. 

My girl, that’s what he wrote in his caption, paired with a red heart. 

You knew it was for show but that didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach from going feral. It felt too real, the gestures, the little things. It felt more real than your previous real relationship and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. 

It was another day where you had afternoon classes, and so you did not go to the uni with Jake. You had not liked or commented on the picture yet, pondering about how to go on about this. 

Jake had texted you twice, wishing you a good morning first and then asking if you had your lunch yet. You were tempted to reply but first, you gained a slight amount of courage and liked his post. 

You typed a comment with the first thing that came to your mind. 

You’re mine forever ❤️

Your cheeks burned up as you kept your phone down on one of the picnic benches kept around the campus, as that was the exact place you were sitting at after your classes had ended. 

A very whiny and feminine voice called out your name, and you looked up to see Linda along with your ex and your fake boyfriend. The smile on her face was sickening and you wondered what they were doing together. 

Yet again, you did not think twice before getting up and burying your face in Jake’s chest, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. This shocked Jake, you could feel him go still for a negligible second before a deep laugh boomed up his chest, you could feel him vibrate as he wrapped his arms around your frame. 

“Missed me that much, baby?” He asked, patting your head. 

Sunghoon watched the scene unfold with dark eyes. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” you whispered. 

It was the first time you had used a nickname on anyone, heck you never even called Sunghoon that. 

A cough separated you both and now you couldn’t muster up enough courage to look at Jake while he couldn’t stop looking your way. 

“Linda wants to have lunch together, like a double date,” Jake told you and you saw Linda nod excitedly. 

“It’s so romantic! We even got the lunch packed, see!” She raised her hand to show you two bags which probably had the lunch she was talking about. 

This day couldn’t have gotten more weird. 

“That sounds great!” You tried to sound cheerful but it only came out awkward. 

Good for you, Linda didn’t pick up your tone and clapped excitedly, “we only have thirty minutes because I have my salon appointment after so let’s be fast,” she spoke in a go. 

You noticed Jake sporting the same look of confusion as you, it was an awkward situation indeed. Sunghoon didn’t say a word, only observing you and Jake.  

Jake took the paper bag and got the packed lunches out. He had gotten you your favourite salad with grilled chicken as he opted to get the same dish for himself, not forgetting to get you coke, which you preferred to drink while eating. 

He really paid a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes. 

Linda really couldn’t read the room as she never once stopped talking about this new lingerie set she got for herself, “Hoonie liked it too,” she giggled and you tried to focus on eating, not having it in you to picture it in your mind.  

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he spoke, his words harsh. 

That was the first time he opened his mouth ever since you started eating. Linda didn’t care, pouting slightly as she started talking again, “let’s play couples quiz!” She squealed. 

You could feel your headache growing with her high pitched voice. 

“Jake, when’s Y/n’s birthday?” She asked. 

He fixed his gaze on you, answering the question correctly. You tried not to be shocked, displaying your sweet smile for them. He actually knew a lot about you, the eye contact made you bite your lower lip before you asked. 

“Sunghoon, when’s Linda’s birthday?” You asked now, questioning him directly, which he did not expect. 

“Third of February,” he said and Linda gasped, offended. 

“That’s not my birthday!” She almost screamed, bickering with him for a solid minute as Jake passed you a few tissues, seeing the salad get on your fingers. 

“Okay, next question,” she said and she kept on asking him questions as if it was a rapid fire round and Jake answered each of them correctly. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, he knew your favourite colour, your favourite tv show and singer, your favourite cake and song. 

Sunghoon knew nothing. 

Linda didn’t know a thing about Sunghoon either, just like he never knew a thing about Linda. 

Sunghoon slammed his fist on the table, getting up and walking away without any second glance, you almost jumped with how loud the sound was, your hand resting on top of your chest to soothe your nerves. 

Linda ran after him, or rather she tried to run after him in her heels. 

“Are you okay?” Jake asked you softly, his fingers caressing your cheek as he searched your face for any kind of discomfort. 

You nodded, gulping and looking away. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your skin wouldn’t stop tingling where he had touched you, it was almost impossible for you to breathe when he was so close to you. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay. I think I should go and get my assignments done now, yeah,” you said, fumbling over your words as Jake frowned, wondering if he did something wrong. 

“Y/n—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved at him, almost running away, leaving him with a dejected sigh. 

Of course, you didn’t have to answer his questions, he reminded himself. It was a fake relationship after all. 

So, while you laid in your bed with your pillow clutched close to your chest, Jake stood in front of Sunghoon at their apartment. 

“Since when do you eat salad?” Sunghoon asked, tone somewhat disappointing. laced with a hint of jealousy. 

“Y/n likes it,” Jake smiled softly, “It was hard not to like it after.”

“You hated coffee,” Sunghoon almost accused. 

“I like it now, it’s normal to develop your taste,” Jake replied calmly. 

“You’ve never gone on a date before, you’ve never had this kind of hairstyle before. You’re changing yourself and for what?” Sunghoon sighed, shoulders dropping when he accused him again. 

Jake only bit his lip, “love does things to you and I think I'm changing for the better.”

Love. 

That’s all Sunghoon had to hear before leaving the room. 

“Why are you sulking, babygirl?” Yunjin asked you the next day, seeing you sitting with your blanket wrapped around you, a piece of chip in your mouth as you lazily snacked on it. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled, hiding your face. 

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “you were squealing in the morning yesterday, what changed?” 

You sighed deeply, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit down today,” you shrugged. 

She sat down on the bed, right in front of you before pulling you in the most warm and comfortable hug. It was something you appreciated even more this particular day. You felt conflicted with your feelings. 

It’s the little things, it’s always the little things when it comes to Jake, it creates a bigger picture for him. But for Sunghoon, it was only the larger picture with no elements supporting it. 

“That’s the problem, babygirl. I’m not gonna let you drown in your own blanket all evening. You’re coming with me to the party,” Yunjin stated, opening your closet to select an outfit for you already. 

Turns out that Yunjin can be a great manipulator because there was no way you’d be standing in the middle of a party with a vodka shot in your hand otherwise. 

Maybe drinking would help you, it always does. It’s almost pathetic how you’re ready to get shitfaced for a whole night just to get rid of intrusive thoughts, the thoughts which consisted of Jake and Jake only. 

You drank that shot in a go, getting another one as Heeseung tried to stop you but to no avail. Once you had taken three shots, all in a row, you turned around to find Karina, who looked as if she spent a while trying to find you. 

“Y/n! Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing your hand, “come, we’re gonna play upstairs.” Without much fighting, she dragged you upstairs and Heeseung followed behind. 

You wondered what Jake would be doing right now. 

The multicoloured lights were shining bright as they covered the expanse of the whole staircase, which you had trouble walking up, courtesy of your heels and a very short dress. 

Karina opened the door to a room and your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings to understand who you were going to deal with tonight. 

It was your whole friend group and some of their mutual friends too, however that wasn’t why you stood frozen in your spot at the given moment. 

Jake Sim, the guy you had been avoiding since yesterday, was sitting in the same circle, the bean bags, sofas and chairs were arranged to be that way, as he sipped on a can of beer which he held in his slender fingers. 

Seeing him at the party was shocking enough as he rarely attended any, but to add on to it, he was all dressed up as well. 

He sipped on the drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped. The side angle gave you the best view of his undercut and defined jawline, your eyes travelling down to his chest, which was exposed as the top few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, a black leather jacket covering him up as he also sported a few rings on his long, veiny fingers, a necklace gracing his slender neck. 

You almost forgot how to breathe until Karina pushed you forward, which gained the attention of Jake, who smiled your way as he expected you to come over to him. 

Karina and Yunjin high fived in the background, meaning; it was their plan for you both to meet at the party. 

Your heels clicked as you walked towards him, it was as if you both were the only ones in the room at the given moment. He wasn’t being subtle as he stared at you, especially how he looked up when you stood next to him. 

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you to him—which was something you never expected. 

You landed straight on his lap, his arm wrapped around you securely as the other one rested on your thigh, covering up your skin which was showing, courtesy of your short dress. 

Your mind blanked, you couldn’t think anymore as goosebumps rose up your arms when he spoke in his deep voice, the others also stopped to stare at you both as he was not the one to show affection in public. 

Heeseung and Yunjin teased you both, yet that wasn’t something you paid much attention to. You didn’t even see Sunghoon sitting in the same room, as if he wasn’t anyone to you anymore. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, making you sit close to him, your hand working on its own as it held on to his broad shoulder for support. 

You should have been used to this whole fake dating plan of yours, yet you couldn’t ever get used to Jake’s constant surprises. It didn’t feel like it was fake when it came to him and it most certainly wasn’t a help how you could feel the alcohol kicking in, his hand felt warm on your cold skin. 

“Jake,” you whispered, looking at him with hooded eyes. 

However, you never got to say anything further as others had decided on playing a classic game of twenty one dares. 

The first dare went to Mark, who was given the dare to kiss his crush who sat right next to him. 

“Why were you avoiding me all day?” Jake asked in a whisper when everyone else was busy cheering for Mark. 

You had no answer for it, nor did you have any way to control your heart which was thumping out of your rib cage with the proximity. 

You breathed out with a chuckle which sounded forced, grabbing a beer can which was on the table in front of you, “avoiding you? Why would I?” You asked, looking away. 

That wasn’t much help as he was quick to grab your chin, making you look his way again, “did I do something wrong?” 

His actions were bold, yet his voice was sweet and full of concern. You shook your head, resting it on his shoulder, “of course not,” you whispered, not having it in you to look at him, “you’re really perfect, Jake.”

He wasn’t given any time to react as others cheered. 

Apparently, it was your turn to get a dare and the evil smile on Jay’s face gave it all away, as if he knew exactly what was going on between you two. 

“I dare you to kiss Jake,” he smirked as everyone minus Sunghoon clapped, Mark nodding, still red from the kiss. 

“True, we’ve never seen you kiss,” Hee muttered in realization. 

You stopped breathing, seeing everyone cheering for you. You had fake kissed him when Sunghoon was watching that one day in the lawns, yet this was a whole different story when they were demanding an actual kiss from you both. 

Jake’s hand tightened around your waist, your dazed eyes taking in his expression as he raised his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the corner of your lips gently, as if he was asking for your permission. 

You knew you were drunk, yet all your senses made you feel as though you were the sanest person alive. The anticipation felt so painful and you could feel Sunghoon’s stare on you both. 

With a tender sigh, your eyes closed shut as you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him into you. 

Your lips collided in a fervent kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth as his hand supported the back of your head, tilting it slightly as your desire and passion fused together, transcending your surroundings. 

You couldn’t hear the whistling or screaming around your surroundings, your mind completely gave in to the pretty boy, who was kissing you like his life depended upon it. 

His lips were soft, perfectly moulding against yours as you moved them in harmony, letting the sheer pleasure take over your senses to the point you couldn’t differentiate between whether you were drunk which made you feel as if you were in the state of unadulterated ecstasy or it was simply Jake’s effect on your body. 

You didn’t pay attention to Sunghoon, who threw the beer can on the floor, walking away from the room, nor did you care about Linda who ran after him. 

All you knew was that Jake Sim was kissing you and he was exceptionally amazing at it. 

He squeezes your waist as you gasped, letting him bite your lower lip, lacking his usual self control as he mentally claimed you to be too intoxicating for him. 

“Hey! Get a fucking room!” Jay shouted. 

That was enough for you to break the kiss, your eyes still closed as your chest heaved up and down, blood rushing to your cheeks as you felt tingly all over, the shiver going down your spine all the way to your abdomen. 

Jake was already staring at you by the time your eyes fluttered open. His lips looked plump, slightly swollen from how you had kissed him, the veins on his neck seemed even more prominent but his eyes—they were dark, laced with lust. 

He didn’t wish to stop. 

You didn’t want him to stop. 

He got up from the chair, making you stand up along with him, his fingers quick to intertwine with yours as he pulled you with him, your wide eyes drifting to look at Karina who only winked at you, giving a thumbs up alongside it. 

“Jake,” you breathed, following him out and into an empty room, which he locked before pushing you against the wooden door. 

You could barely stand given how weak your knees felt at that exact moment. It most certainly didn’t help that Jake bent down to your level, the dim lights of the room making his skin shine as he asked you again. 

“Why were you avoiding me, Y/n?” His tone gave you goosebumps when you heard your name roll out of his tongue. 

Forming sentences felt like a tough job when his lips were borderline touching yours, “because,” you whispered mindlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Your voice was quiet, just like the room, which made it sound louder than intended as you looked him up through your lashes. 

His jaw was clenched, you could notice him breathing deep, his hold on you tight and you chuckled deeply, alcohol taking over your senses, “I can’t stop thinking of you, Jaeyun.”

You didn’t let him reply before you pressed your lips onto his, your bodies pressed against each other, mouths moving as your lips melded and parted, his hands all over your body, every touch igniting a spark in you. 

He tapped your thigh twice and you got the memo, jumping into his arms as he picked you up with ease, muscles flexing in the process but his lips never left yours while he walked towards the bed, helping you lie down as he got on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist as your dress started riding up your thigh. 

He leaned back, eyes fixated on yours but you only continued to pepper kisses along his jawline, and down his neck, making him growl as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You’re drunk, baby. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he says softly, breathing in your scent as he inhales deeply. 

“I’m not,” you whined, switching your positions to be sitting in front of him, trying to remove his jacket, before he stops you with his fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

He cupped your cheek as you looked at him sadly, “tell me, do you not want me?” You’d ask, playing with his necklace. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t hold himself back, not when your eyes sparkled with innocence and undeniable glimmer of need, “you have no idea, darling,” he chuckles, running his thumb on your lower lip, which was still wet from your kiss, “I want you so fucking much.”

That was enough for you to smile at him, eyes hazy as you slid off the bed and got on your knees, unbuckling his belt as you fumbled with the button of his jeans while Jake couldn’t believe this was happening. 

The strap of your dress slid down, revealing more of your cleavage, that’s exactly when you helped him get out of his jeans, revealing his boxers. Your fingers grazed his clothed cock, your lips tugging up as you saw him groan, even more so when you kissed his semi-hardened cock. 

His eyes never left yours during the entire time you teased him, getting his leather jacket off, leaving him in his white button up and boxers, which you pulled down in a go. 

A shiver went down your abdomen, making you close your thighs with how big he was. His cock was hard, leaking with precum that made your mouth water. He had the biggest cock you had ever witnessed in your life, girth and veiny too. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when you take him in your small hand, squeezing it a smidge before planting featherlight kisses all over his length, swirling your tongue around his head, he bit his lip as he took the scene in front of him. You licked big stripes of his length before taking his head into your mouth. 

That snapped him out of his daze, he couldn’t take your teasing any longer. Pushing himself up slightly, he spread his legs to accommodate your body between it as he grabbed your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you took him in, your hands stroking the base where your lips couldn’t reach. 

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, pushing your head to hold his cock in you even deeper. 

You can’t help but think how he looks nothing like his sweet self in the given moment, he looks like a devil who’s thirsting for lust, his eyes dark and so immersed in your activities. 

His length throbs in your mouth as you continue your ministrations, quickening your pace as you sucked him off with all you had, hearing him growl made you realize how your panties were soaking wet when you release him with a satisfying pop sound, looking up at him again.

He sat straighter, his thumb wiping the saliva that was all over your chin and lips before pulling you up on the bed, spreading your legs to see a wet patch on your panties as you struggled to take your dress off. 

He chuckled deeply, “Oh, bunny. Let me help you with that,” he says, cursing once he sees you without any bra, his fingers tracing your neck, your clavicle and going all the way down to pay attention to your tits. 

However, that’s not all he does. Your toes curl when he yanks your panties to the side, immersing his tongue to tease your clit before he licks and sucks you thoroughly, humming against your folds as he gets drunk on the taste of your juices. 

His tongue prods on your entrance, pushing it in as your fingers grabbed his roots, tugging on his hair which also elicited a deep groan from him, your eyes rolling back with how ecstatic you felt. 

He fucked your cunt, pushing his tongue in while his thumb worked wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you squirm around, finally moaning out, “Jake, oh god!” You cried out. 

“That’s it baby, scream my name,” he whispers against you, the moist squelching noises filling up the room as you arched your back, your body shaking with how you could feel your high approaching, as he yearned for your pussy, not stopping once, as if he had completely plunged his body to focus on your pleasure and your pleasure only. 

You chanted his name as if it was a mantra you had to recite, and that’s exactly when you felt your stomach tightening, a teardrop leaving the corner of your eye, cascading down your neck as you allowed yourself to feel the unadulterated bliss Jake provided you with. 

It wasn’t the alcohol, you admitted. 

You were drunk on Jake. 

You breathed in deeply as he licked you up, finally getting up as he rolled your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers before he also removed his last article of clothing, leaving you to see the shadow of his abs and pecs clearly. 

“Tell me you won’t regret this in the morning, baby,” he breathes out, searching your eyes as his length brushes against your sensitive cunt. 

“I won’t,” you promised, “I want you, I need you, Jake,” you cried out as his eyes turned hooded. 

He silenced your loud moan with his lips on yours, your nails digging into his back as he gave a sharp thrust, filling you up till he bottomed out easily with how wet you were, kissing your tears away and giving you a minimum of two seconds before he grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head. 

“Do you know how pretty you look right now, bunny?” He asks, giving you another sharp thrust, this particular one hitting your g-spot, which had you whimpering out his name, “all mine, yeah?” He asks, thrusting harder, his hips slapping your ass. 

“Y—yours!” You managed to speak, eyes closing shut with pleasure. 

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me when I fuck your pretty little cunt,” he whispers as your wail out when his cock hits your cervix. 

He takes his time to kiss and mark your neck, his teeth digging in as he sucks on your sensitive skin harsh enough to leave marks. 

It was effortless how he moved in and out of you so easily despite groaning about how tight your little hole was and you felt dumb, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. You simply knew and felt one thing and that was Jake. 

He manhandled you easily, turning you around and lifting your ass up, your face buried into the pillow as your mascara smudged, just how your lipstick was smudged all over your cheeks. 

He thrusted into you yet again, smacking your ass as he saw it jiggle with the impact, another moan reverberated the room, which made him spank you twice more before he started fucking you again, your walls clenching around him with need as he gave you almost brutal backshots. 

“I’m—Fuck!” You cried out, almost passing out as you breathed in deeply. 

You both were so close, his cock twitched in you as his thrusts got sharper, “go on, bunny. Cream my cock like a good fucking girl,” he groaned. 

You withered beneath him as you screamed out his name with sheer pleasure as you reached your high, coating his cock with your juices before he also moaned deeply, fucking his cum into your glistening pussy. 

He breathed in deeply as he pulled out, staring at your cunt which was dripping with your juices mixed together. 

He sighed softly, holding you in his arms, “baby,” he whispered softly as you initiated a soft kiss, getting on his lap again as your heart beat rose up to the point you could hear it in your ears while Jake felt the same way. 

He could see how exhausted you were by how you started dozing off in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to have you in his arms now and freeze the time. 

It took him time to get up as he helped you get dressed up again, before he picked you up in his arms, getting down to see the party winding up. You were asleep and cuddling into him, his heart still racing as he saw Yunjin smiling at you two, “take her home with you,” she said, “and you better take care of her,” she added as a genuine warning, which made Jake nod earnestly. 

He would never hurt you.  

He really was perfect with how he took you to his room safely, with how he tried to remove your makeup even though he had no idea what he was doing, yet he was gentle as you slept with how drunk and exhausted you were. He made sure to change your clothes to his loose ones, just so you would sleep comfortably. 

He had fucked you, however he still was respectful and tried to not look your way while he changed your clothes. 

You looked so peaceful as you snuggled close to his pillow in his bed, he couldn’t help but stare at you with a soft smile as he kissed your forehead, “sleep well, baby.” He whispered as he slid under the covers next to you, holding you as if he was scared he’d lose you, his body shivering ever so slightly at the thought as he cradled you in his arms. 

Jake really was perfect. 

Your body was sore, the sunlight almost blinding you, adding on to the throbbing pain in your head as you shifted around the covers, opening your eyes with a groan to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. 

A low cry left your lips as the memories of the past night flooded into your mind, the graphic details of Jake and you, the way he had asked you if you’d regret it. 

You didn’t regret a thing. 

And neither did you know how you’d face him after this. Yes, everything that started off as a fake relationship but even you couldn’t deny that none of it felt fake to you. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw a little note on the nightstand saying—

Good morning, sweetheart <3 Please take this medicine when you wake up and also drink the hangover soup! I’ll be at Uni and will be back by the time you wake up, love. 

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You whined to yourself, kicking your feet, “why do you have to make me feel this way?” You whispered to yourself, gulping and looking at the medicines and a bowl of soup on the nightstand. 

You didn’t realize that you were wearing Jake’s clothes till you spilled a little drop of soup on it, eyes widening for the nth time today as you gasped. 

You couldn’t stay anymore, you got up and rushed to grab your clothes, which were folded neatly before you changed into them with a rush, getting out of his room while you checked your phone, bumping into a hard chest. 

You winced, looking up as your expression dropped.  Park Sunghoon stood there, his eyes sad as he searched your face for some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, however you didn’t give him anything, choosing to walk away but he was quick to grab your wrist. 

“Y/n,” he spoke your name in desperation and you tried your best not to turn around, yet you did, looking at his regret stricken face as he spoke further, “I broke up with Linda,” he started and you almost snorted. 

“Well, good for you,” you said, turning around yet again, only to be stopped. 

“Don’t fucking do this, Y/n,” he breathes, eyes watery, “I know you and Jake aren’t dating. Come back to me, baby, I regret everything I did to you, please?” He almost begs. 

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed out, “you know nothing about us and it’s too late, Sunghoon. I don’t want you.”

He didn’t let you leave, pulling you into a hug as you struggled to get away, “I know you’re angry and you don’t mean it. Let’s be together again, we used to be so happy,” he whispered. 

“And you fucking ruined it,” you cried out, pushing him away, “you ruined everything and you never cared about us! But y’know what? Jake isn’t like you. He’s kind, caring and he’s genuine about everything,” you let out, stepping away, “I love him.” 

Saying that out loud felt like you had lifted a boulder off your chest. Your face was equally surprised as Sunghoon, but you didn’t stay any longer, shaking your head as you rushed out of the apartment and got into the safety of your own dorm. 

You loved Jake. 

And you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it was all fake for him. You sat in your bathtub for hours, pondering and mentally slapping yourself for letting this happen but it was beyond you. Jake was so easy to love. 

What scared you the most that he hadn’t called you once, nor did he reply to any of your texts throughout the day. Your heart broke into pieces when he didn’t show up in front of your dorm to pick you up. 

You were sure he hated you for drunkenly acting up that night, maybe that’s why he kept avoiding you. You had ruined everything. 

The plan for the day wasn’t to attend the classes, but to find Jake. Every second that passed by without him talking to you felt like a punishment, as if your anxiety would eat you up through and through. 

He wasn’t by the lawns, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of frustration when you couldn’t find Jake. Yet you didn’t lose hope as you thought that he’d be in his lectures. 

A big smile etched your face when you found him standing in front of his locker and you sprinted his way, which startled him. It was as if he didn’t expect to see you in front of him, his eyes leaving yours for a second before he smiled at you. 

It was forced. 

“Jake,” you breathed out as you felt fidgety, “can we talk?” 

He bit his lower lip, not answering for a few seconds before he nodded, guiding you towards the rooftop for privacy, not uttering a word throughout the way. 

You stood side by side, watching the cloudy sky as he finally looked your way, “congratulations,” he let out, trying to smile. 

You looked at him, confused which only made him speak further. 

“I saw you and Sunghoon hugging,” his voice broke but he gained his composure, “I know you’re probably back together now and you don’t need me—”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped closer to stop him, yet he continued. 

“We don’t have to fake date anymore,” he nodded, looking at his feet, “I’m glad I could help you forget about him for some time and also with your revenge—”

You were on the verge of crying by now as you whispered his name again. 

“I’m so stupid to have thought that maybe it won’t be fake, but I know you want Sunghoon—”

“Don’t you fucking see that I want you? Sunghoon and I talked, yes we did and I told him I don’t want him. I don’t fucking want him, Jake. You’re not a rebound to me, This isn’t fake to me anymore, I don’t think it ever felt fake to me,” you let out your frustrations, shutting him up fully. 

“My heart feels like it would beat out of my chest every fucking time I’m near you, this longing intensifies each day and it scares me so much,” a crystalline tear escaped your eyes and Jake was quick to cup your face, as if on instinct and wipe it away, “you do this sweet things no one ever did for me, you remember the smallest details about me that no one else seems to care about and I feel restless when we don’t talk. I’ve grown so used to being around you, it’s not fucking fake. I think—I’m falling in love with you Jake,” you finally let out. 

“You—you love me?” He asks, voice barely a whisper as he finds it hard to breathe and you nod, his slender fingers still cupping your cheek, “you hugged Sunghoon—”

“I pushed him away,” you said in a beat, “he hugged me, I didn’t,” you assured him, grabbing his hand which rested on your cheek, “I told him I love you.”

Jake pulled you in his embrace, his body shook slightly which broke your heart thinking how he had it all wrong, you never wanted to see him hurt, just like how he always wished for you to be happy. 

He held you tighter, making you feel safe as warmth bloomed up your chest, “I liked you ever since I saw you trying to play guitar with Jay on the day we met, but Sunghoon was faster to reach out to you,” he confesses and you part your mouth with surprise as he leaned back to look at you, chuckling ever so lightly, “I hated how he treated you but when you came to me for help, I got selfish and used this to get closer to you, even if it meant that I’d have to fake date you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “but I fell harder each day, even more so when I had to hold your hand and it felt so small against mine yet it fit perfectly, when you dressed up so beautifully for a fake date with me, when you looked so adorable in my jacket, when you remembered my birthday and my likes which even I hadn’t noticed before. I fell in love with you, baby,” he smiled through the tears as you pulled him in for a kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably as it full of tenderness and affection, your hearts beating together as you shared unspoken promises through it. 

You weren’t fake dating anymore as you looked at him with a silly smile, taking the document of your agreement out before scratching out a line. 

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[bloodibambiidoll]

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

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