#I still have really bad days and weeks but I’m learning to know that I deserve good things

[goldkirk]

I ate half a serving of some really really good pesto pasta in the evening. Just rocketed out of bed at 3 AM after an hour or so of intense rounds of pain and I’m not going to go into details but holy shit I wish I never ate more than a couple bites of it and just brought a smoothie or soup to the restaraunt instead this is AWFUL. Literally hauled myself into the bathtub with warm water just to breathe.

[saturdaymournings]

ohoho boy tomorrow is gonna be so bad but yanno what I’m gonna be a brave little guy and I’m gonna treat myself to back to back bath days so it’s all gonna be good in the end. Today was so bad today was fucking dreadful but there will be a way !!!!! I have to remember the small joys I have to stay strong

[casbeeminestiel]

Bagel chain on campus you will always be special to me

[salsflore]

just got home from school ～ ate a sandwich to cheer myself up, think i’ll play genshin for a bit and nap ... pulling on shenhe’s banner solves everything

[paarksunghoon]

FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?���

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 

“Drive safe.” 

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.” 

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.” 

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.” 

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.” 

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 

“If we wake up early enough.” 

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[spicyspiders]

old man logan part 2

3.1k words

logan isn't as mean in this, but there are still moments when he is, like when he forces the reader to drink a glass of whisky he poured for him because he doesn't want him to waste it.

part 1

You wanted to give the guy a chance, but fuck, you just weren’t interested. You thought it’d be a good idea, after all, your mother told you she didn’t want you spending your whole summer at home. You assumed what she meant was a summer job, but you thought going on a date would be more entertaining. 

It wasn’t really the guy’s fault though, your mind was much too occupied by the thought of Logan. It has been two weeks since then and your mind hasn’t stopped thinking about it since that day. The only interaction you’ve had with him since then was nods and glances when you saw him outside. 

A week after that day, you learned of his change of heart. It became much louder outside after Logan returned all of the lost toys in his backyard, much happier. You even made a comment about it to your date. 

“That was sweet of him,” the man said from across the table at the bar. 

“Yeah. It sure was,” you responded, trying not to smile too hard. 

“Why do you think he had a change of heart?” Your date asked. 

You quickly changed the subject after he asked, not wanting to give anymore details away. “Sorry,” you pointed to one of your ears, “it’s pretty loud in here.”

”Do you wanna,” he pointed at the door, his eyes bright under the light of the bar. 

You nodded and gathered your things to pay your tab, the sweet taste of the drink you had earlier was still at the back of your throat. Only having one drink at the bar meant it was easy to come up with another excuse to get in your car and drive home. 

The man looked disappointed, but he quickly perked up after you pressed a kiss to his cheek with the promise of next time whispered into his ear. 

“How was your date?” Logan asked when you got out of your car, “not so good I guess since you’re home before sundown,” he let out a cruel laugh. 

“It was just one drink,” you responded as you shut your car door. 

“What,” he tossed the rag he had just cleaned his motorcycle with over his shoulder, “he not want to invite you inside for a nightcap?”

”A nightcap?” You grimaced, “how old are you?”

Logan chuckled, “don’t get mad at me,” he said, stepping closer and into your driveway, “I’m sure he would’ve invited you in if he knew how easy you were,” he said quietly, not close enough for you to smell the cleaner on the rag. 

“Next time he’ll know,” you said, crossing your arms. 

The laugh Logan lets out is loud and booming, much too loud for the time of evening it was, “you’re telling me,” Logan says once he’s gotten his laughing under control, “you don’t put out on the first day?”

“I do when I want to. My mind’s been just a little,” you pause, looking away from Logan’s eyes and definitely not down to his lips, “occupied.”

“Why don’t we go inside and talk about it,” Logan whispers. 

Logan wastes no time getting his hands on you once you’re behind his door. His hands are warm on your hips as he presses you into the door. The kiss is not at all like the one you pressed to your date’s cheek earlier, it’s rough and messy and just what you expected. 

“What’d you drink earlier?” Logan panted after pullings away from the kiss, “it tastes like you swallowed a pound of candy,” he says, looking disgusted. 

“That’s how I like my drinks. Besides, I only had one,” you watched as Logan stepped back and walked to his kitchen, “it shouldn’t be that bad!” You yelled at his back. 

You could hear the sound of cabinets slamming and glass hitting the counter before Logan’s voice followed he sound, “get in here.” He spoke again after you were beside him leaning against the countertop, “I’m putting you on the good stuff. None of that sugary bullshit,” he said as he poured a glass of whisky. 

“I think you just wanted an excuse to drink,” you said as he moved to the second glass. 

“I don’t need an excuse to drink. I’m a grown man, and so are you. You’re too old for that-”

”Sugary bullshit,” you say, cutting him off, rolling your eyes, “I know.”

“A toast,” Logan says after picking up his glass, “to trying new things.” 

You weren’t going to tell Logan you’ve had whisky before, but you play up your reaction just to save his ego. You cough even though you’re used to the burn and make a face of disgust even though you’re used to the taste. 

With a laugh, Logan claps a hand on your back, “it’s not a shot, you’re supposed to savor it,” which was ironic for him to say given how quickly he drank his. With his hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle, he looked at you expectantly.

”What,” you snapped. 

“Drink it,” Logan commanded, “you don’t waste my whiskey.”

“You drink it,” you said back.

Slowly, Logan takes the glass as he steps in front of you and crowds you up against the counter. His eyes stay locked to yours as he takes the rest of what was in your glass into his mouth. You wait for him to swallow, but instead he wraps his other hand around the back of your neck and gets in real close. 

“Open,” he says around the liquid in his mouth. 

You have no choice but to comply, especially when his hand tightens on the back of his neck. The whisky trickles into your mouth, along your tongue, and then down your throat in a warm path. You lick your lips, the tip touching Logan’s as you try to gather the bit that fell from the side of your mouth. 

Logan’s thumb gathers it before he pushes it into your mouth, “good boy,” he murmurs when you suck the taste from his skin. 

He pulls his thumb from your mouth and then back down your chin where the liquid had dripped, leaving another wet trail. He kisses you again, this time much slower. His tongue runs along yours and all you can taste is a mix of whisky and something that is all Logan. 

“You really are easy,” Logan says when he pulls away from the kiss, one of his hands moving to your hard cock tenting your pants, “look at how hard you are,” he says like he’s in awe of a brilliant discovery. “Bedroom?” He asks with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t standing for too long hurt your back?” You respond, biting back your smile as you watch his smirk fall. 

“Little fuckin’ smartass,” Logan grumbles as he hoists you over his shoulder, “I gotcha,” he says at your noise of surprise, making sure to pat your ass for good measure. 

“I can walk,” you say to him after you’re thrown onto his bed.

”Not after this,” Logan responds, swooping down to mash your lips together. With his knee, he made space between your legs for his body and used his hands to lift your legs and get them around his waist. 

You moaned into the next kiss Logan initiated as he rolled his hips to grind your cocks together. For what felt like hours, Logan thrust your cocks together through your clothes. It made you feel like a teenager again, especially with how close you felt when Logan finally pulled away to pull his shirt off. 

You wanted to look over to see if you could see into Logan’s closet to see if tank tops were all he wore. You’d give him props though if they were at least different colors. It’s too bad Logan’s chest was too distracting. 

You ran your fingers up Logan’s chest, gliding through his dark chest hair until you reached his broad shoulders. You used them as a sturdy purchase to pull yourself up to get your mouth against his again. You ran your nails down Logan’s back and he pulled back and let out a noise of pain which had your cock throbbing. 

Free from the kiss, you leaned down to the expanse of Logan's neck to bite at the skin. Above you, Logan moaned when you ran your tongue along the mark you just bit into his skin, the flesh tasting like sweat. 

Logan pulled you back face to face with a hand on the back of your neck. His breaths hit your face as he panted from the pleasure, his eyes dark and full of lust. He pressed a chaste kiss to your kiss before pulling away again to get your clothes off. 

“No underwear?” He asked, a smile stretching out across his face. 

“You didn’t have any on either,” you responded. Logan’s hard cock bobbed in the air between your bodies, but he didn’t let you touch it as he pushed you back down onto the bed once your shirt was off. 

“I’m in my own home,” Logan said as he wrestled your pants off and threw them into the pile of your clothes. 

“You were outside when I got home,” you said, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck to pull him into another kiss. 

“I was waiting for you,” Logan said against your mouth after he pulled away, “you’ve been ignoring me,” he said, nipping at your bottom lip.

”I’ve been busy,” you said before grabbing two handfuls of Logan’s ass to get your cock against his. Your head fell back into one of the pillows on Logan’s bed as your cocks rubbed together, making a mess of precum.

”Whoring yourself out,” Logan said into the column of your neck before he bit harshly into the skin. He held himself up on his forearm, his other being used to go between your legs, past your cock and to your hole. 

He groaned around the skin between his teeth as he circled the pad of his finger around the tight furl of your hole, “you’re fuckin’ killing me,” Logan said, his forehead falling to your neck. “This all for me?” He asked, almost mockingly. 

“Sometimes I like doing the shower if I’m home alone,” you say with a groan when Logan rubs your cocks together again. 

“Yeah? You gotta go fast before mommy and daddy get home?” Logan asks as he presses the edge of his finger to the opening. “Who were you thinkin’ about hmm?” He asks, looking at you with his dark eyes. 

“You thinkin’ about that guy you were gonna go on a date with as you took your shower this morning?” Logan asked, his finger touching your hole, but not yet pressing inside. “Or me? Cause you already knew he wasn’t going to satisfy you,” Logan says, finally pressing his finger inside. 

Logan’s finger met the remnants of the lube you weren’t able to wash from your hole, slicking the way so that his finger could go all the way to the hilt. He moved his finger slowly, not pulling it out, but instead moving it around enough for you to become accustomed to it. 

He leaned down to kiss you just as slowly as he worked his finger, his tongue moving to the rhythm of his finger as he mapped out your mouth. He pulled his tongue from your mouth as his finger left and swallowed the soft noise you let out. 

Quickly Logan left and came back with a bottle of lube after rifling through his nightstand. Back on the bed, he got behind you and got you onto your side and lifted one of your legs up and rested it against his muscular bicep.

His finger, now wet with lube, touched the edge of your hole, spreading lube along the skin. It glided inside as Logan pressed his lips to yours. He kissed and kissed and kissed you as he got you ready for his cock that laid on his thigh. 

The only interruption to your lips was when Logan found your prostate with his two fingers. “There we are,” Logan whispered after he pulled away. For a moment, he fucked his two fingers into your prostate, milking the bundle of nerves until your cock gushed precum. 

You felt full by the third finger, not thinking you could take more, but when you looked down at Logan’s cock, everything in you wanted to try. Logan’s fingers went to your chin to turn your face away and back to kiss him, and all you could focus on was pleasure as his fingers on your prostate turned your brain to mush.

After Logan pulled his fingers free from your hole, he rolled you onto your stomach. He pressed kisses to the side of your neck, right on your hammering pulse as he slicked up his cock. Logan pressed his sweaty forehead to the back of your head as he lined his cock up to your hole. 

You bit into the pillow as the head of Logan’s cock entered your hole. If it felt intense, the rest of the length of cock was damn near overwhelming. You sobbed into the pillow when Logan bottomed out, clenching on his cock as you tried to adjust. 

“Fuckin’ hell, bub,” Logan groaned as he let his weight fall on top of you. 

“Don’t,” you started, but your words fell into a moan when Logan circled his hips, “call me bub while your dick is inside me.”

“What should I call you then? Boy?” He asked, his breaths hitting your ear, “you gonna be a good boy and take my cock?” He questioned, pulling his cock from your hole. “Or should I call you my bitch,” he said as he bottomed out again, “you already take me so well and we’ve just gotten started.”

Every time Logan pulled out and thrust back in, you could swear you could feel his cock in your stomach, like he was carving out a spot inside you just for him. His hips slapped against your ass as he held you down with his hands on your hips, selfishly taking his pleasure through the use of your body.

“Fuckin, wanted you since I first saw you,” Logan said after he thrust all the way inside and ground his hips on your ass, getting his cock as deep as it could go, “knew you would take my cock so well,” he said, biting into your shoulder. 

He roughly flipped you over and placed one of your legs on his shoulder. His cock was back inside with a swift thrust, Logan’s hand on the ankle on his shoulder. Once all the way in, he pressed his lips to your ankle and then nearly bent you in half to get his lips on yours again. 

Again and again Logan pulled his cock from your body to thrust it back inside, and again and again Logan’s cock would nail your prostate. Since the brush of his fingers, there was a burn in your stomach, one that Logan made grow brighter and hotter. 

“This everything you wanted?” Logan asked, not even giving you the chance to answer before he had his lips on yours. You moaned into each other’s mouths when Logan’s hand wrapped around your hard cock and stroked to the thrusts of his hips. 

Your orgasm hit you like a wave of the coldest water, washing over the burn Logan started. The force of it had your back arching off the bed into Logan’s body as stripes of white spurted messily over his fist and between your bodies. 

Logan answered the moans you let out with ones of his own as you clenched down on his cock over and over again, and it wasn’t long until his thrusts came to a halt. Logan came with a shout, his arms wrapping around your body as he let his weight fall on top of you once more. His body gave involuntary twitches as the aftershocks hit and whimpers of pleasure fell from his mouth and into the crook of your neck where his head was buried. 

You raised a hand and ran your fingers through Logan’s sweaty hair, the man raising his head at the contact. He kissed you softly, taking in the soft noise you let out as he shifted and his cock slipped free. After one last kiss, he lifted himself up and walked from the room. 

You stretched out like a cat on Logan’s bed, your cock twitching when you felt Logan’s cum leak from your hole. 

“Comfortable?” Logan asked after he returned, your face smushed into a pillow. 

Like earlier, you could hear the clink of glasses being set down, but new was the sensation of a warm cloth on your skin. You just hoped it wasn’t the one he used to clean his motorcycle earlier. 

“Should I clean you with this?” Logan asked, his lips dragging along your neck. Warm drops hit your back, making you gasp, “or my mouth?”

”What type of lube did you use? Strawberry lube doesn’t taste too bad,” you said tiredly into the pillow. 

“Slut,” Logan responded, sounding almost fond as he wiped you down. “I should take a picture before I clean you up,” he said to himself but loud enough for you to hear after spreading your asscheeks to look at your fucked out hole.   

You rolled over when Logan turned you over with a hand on your hip to get your front. You hissed as the wet warmth came into contact with your soft cock. “Ah,” you moaned at the overstimulation. 

“Hush,” Logan commanded, “you can take it,” he whispered, his body inching closer when your hips came off the bed. “That’s my boy,” Logan praised once you relaxed back onto the bed. 

He left once more to toss the rag away before he joined you back on the bed. He reached onto the bedside table for the bottle of whisky and glasses he brought up. It was quiet for a few moments as he poured you each a glass, save for the hum of the air conditioner. 

“You gonna see him again?” Logan asked after he took a sip. 

You glanced over at Logan, watching how his eyes were trained on the sloshing liquid in the glass, “something came up,” you responded, smiling down into your glass before you raised it and took a sip. 

Logan shifted closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He raised his glass and you clinked yours with his before you both took another sip.

[messenger-of-babel]

Home is Where the Heart is

Summary: You could never tell what Jason was thinking, and this particular night he has a lot on his mind. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: Mini vent- had a bad day and this week has been really tough so I’m changing up the layout of today as well so I could put out a fic that was a little easier on my mind (I always need to have more pep in my step when I write for my lanterns idk why haha. So sorry Kyle my baby I want to do you justice so you're on backburner). It was indeed written to Ed Sheeran on loop cause I needed to lock in fr. ❤️❤️

Enjoy Lovelies~! xx

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When Jason looked at you, you often wondered what he was thinking.

What was passing through his mind that made his irises gleam that brilliant shade of emerald or let the natural curve of his smile adored his face. However, every time that you asked he just blew his hair from his eyes gruffly, but let the smile stay. "That's a secret," he'd say before his hand would pull you to kiss side and he'd press a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was a little known fact that the Red Hood was in fact Jason Todd, but it was known to even less that Jason Todd was actually a romantic at heart. Sure, he had a mouth on him, and he was on the receiving end of your hand up the back of his head more often than he wasn't. But he was also the quiet kind of clingy, the kind that would never ask to hug you or initiate contact, but would stay up so he could have your back pressed against his chest the second you slipped into bed. He'd laugh when you brushed the hair out of his eyes, the scar on the corner of his mouth unable to stop his boyish grin. It was those moments in your kitchen that made you think that maybe, just maybe, your life was all normal.

You knew it wasn't.

When your fingers brush against his forehead you know that the white tuft in his hair was a painful reminder of his death, the scar on his lips you so lovingly kissed caused by the very man who had killed him. His hands were littered with small scars from blocking knives and protecting his head from glass instead of childhood memories of climbing trees. His back was a canvas of white slashes that intersected in a map-like pattern, a surface already so touched that the symmetrical red lines you left seemed less stunning in comparison. Legs sporting burn marks, bruises permanent along his ribs; that was the Jason that you knew. So even if some days you pretended that he was some ordinary civilian like yourself, you still loved Jason with all your heart.

On this particular night he had come home from patrol, sitting on the kitchen counter while you patched him up. You had been a pretty awful field doctor the first time you offered, but he braved through your prods and pokes with a wince. He didn't say anything about the way you wrapped the bandages too loosely or that you had forgotten some antiseptic and had given the wrong type of topical painkiller. Jason could see the worry on your face, so he leant forward and kissed your forehead tiredly, thanking you with a soft murmur.

You didn't need to know when he slunk off the bathroom to rewrap the bandages, or when he reapplied ointment in the right area. He picked glass out of his own skin when you missed some, letting the shards clatter down the sink. All that consumed him was the thought of how soft you were when you handled him, when you passed the bandage around his middle, or when you tried to clean the wound with as little antiseptic as possible to try and prevent the stinging. He normally hated having to doctor himself up, meaning that even the smallest of injuries tended to scar under his negligence. Yet with you he had been ashamed of the scars, hyper aware of how your eyes lingered on them. More so, how other people stared at them when you were out together. So, for months he spent nights in the bathroom redoing the handiwork you insisted so passionately on learning, just so that there wouldn't be a scar you could blame yourself for later.

You were absolutely perfect, so there was no reason that he couldn't be for you too.

You had become better though, and that was through the help of Alfred. Now you had patched him up efficiently and tightly, patting his hip affectionately when you pull the bandage tight. "Almost done," you smile up at him, fingers pulling the end of the bandage tight and reaching for a bandage clip. "Just got to secure it and you'll be good to go."

He smiles and drops a tired kiss to your skin as usual, pulling your fingers away when you’re done so he can raise them to his lips. "Thanks, darl." he grins, eyes tired but grin still lively as ever. He slides off the counter to wrap his hands around your waist, kissing your nose. You just huff and give him a side glance, arms circling his neck without hesitation.

"What's got you all worked up?" you ask with a light laugh when he’s overly affectionate with you, making Jason groan and drop his head into your hair.

"Just tired." he mumbles. "Bruce pissed me off again today, started lecturing me on the way home."

"Bruce pisses you off most days." you chide. "How did you ever escape the lecture?" you chuckle, moving with him as he begins to sway.

"I turned the commlink off and came up through Southside Gotham so he couldn't follow me." he grins.

There it was.

"There's always something with you, isn't there?" you shake your head, beginning to spin around with him softly in the candlelight. He laughs, and you imagine it’s the sound of a young boy finally getting to live life normally again.

"Always is, babe. you know me." he chuckles, and his eyes flutter over to the candles you have on the counter. It was always dark when he came home normally, and in his tired state he hadn't questioned it. After all, his family worked best in the dark.

"Power outage at the moment?" he asks.

"Power got cut off." you murmur back with a sigh. "We missed last payment. Only a few days, but you know how quick they jump on those these in Gotham. It's all paid up now, but it'll take a day or two to get back. Cold things from the freezer are in the washing machine with the ice blocks."

He hums, stroking a hand up and down your back. "You're well prepared. Sorry for making you deal with them, I'll handle it next time, I promise."

Jason hated using Bruce's money.

Not only was it something that sat bitter in his mouth ever since he had come back, but he didn’t need it. Dick had also rejected it and moved to Bludhaven, and even though he'd never admit it, Jason respected the way he managed to build a home for himself there. He wanted to do that too, and he could do it damn well by himself. He still took some money, but it was no more than a wage from Bruce. He considered protecting Gotham his job, and he wasn't stupid. He wasn’t going to let his pride get in the way of helping you both live. He hated to see you stress about finances, but you never asked him. You never asked him to reach out to Bruce for more or reach out to Bruce yourself.

The first time rent had gone up it had nearly priced the both of you out of the cozy apartment you lived in, and you had been in tears for days trying to find a second job to cover the expenses. Yet you didn’t come begging for Bruce's assistance, no. You looked at him with those teary eyes and asked him to help make a budget with you so you could figure a way out, and you did. You were the most resilient person he knew, the most resilient person he loved.

He held you closer as he spun you softly around the kitchen.

You were going to need to be resilient.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his arms bask in the warmth of you. Your skin against his made the thrumming in his side ease and the headache blistering behind his eyes subside. As you relaxed against him, his head raced of all the ways that he could tell you. Tell the most perfect being that had ever walked into your life that he was leaving, and not only that, he was going to have to break your heart on the way out.

He cursed Bruce. He cursed Bruce for making enemies that had cunning greater than his own, for dragging him into the mess he had created. He had yelled and spat and screamed at the older man until his voice resonated off the cave walls, storming from the cave after tonight's fight. Bruce had asked the impossible of him, after they both got their asses handed to them in a surprise attack. They had taunted Bruce, not the Batman, and had enough evidence to bring Bruce's world and carefully hidden persona crumbling down around him. It just so happened that they had enough to bring Jason's down as well.

They knew about you.

Pictures of you had fluttered down towards him, filling him with an indescribable sense of fear. As hard as they fought, they had let the new visitor of Gotham's nightlife slip through their fingers and Bruce had asked him to break up with you not a second later. There was no empathy, there was no kindness or waiting for it to sink in for him.

But there never was.

In that moment Bruce was Batman, but Red Hood had been the scared Jason Todd.

How did he tell you that he wanted to break up when that was the furthest thing from the truth? That he would walk through hell barefoot and dunk himself in the Lazarus pit again if that mean that you were still there to warm his bed at night? How could he tell you that he didn't love you when his heart ached to tell you it every time he got the courage? He could play the tears, play the part of a sad breakup. That part was easy, considering how this was shaping to be one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. It was the rage that he couldn't muster, for once. Rage was something that he saved for the streets, a place already so crime ridden and scummy that his bitterness and anger were practically masked under the filth. It wasn't a place for your home, the little shelter the both of you had carved out of Gotham with your own two hands.

So, he spun you around the room, eyes watering with tears yet to shed as he thought about how to let you go. He knew you wanted to stay, and that made his heart ache in return. It was like losing a part of him that hadn't even been lost yet, a void already forming in his chest. He sniffled lightly and thankfully you didn’t hear or notice his arms squeezing tighter, as if to imprint the feeling of you against his body. He tried to tell himself it was only a temporary thing, that he could explain it all to you later when the threat was done. That thought often lost against the conjured image of your heartbroken eyes his mind created to torture him, and the persistent thought that you'd probably never want to see him again when he was about to break your heart so violently.

You don't notice something is wrong until the first tear hits your hair, silently giving way to more. You notice the slight shake in his arms and the tension still wound in his body. Normally the stiffness in his muscles flowed out of him like water when he stepped over the threshold of the house, but not tonight.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask softly, pressing into him to try and comfort him, your heart panging in confusion at his strange behaviour.

Jason would never tell you, but when he looked at you he wondered what the rest of your life together would look like, and if you'd ever considering changing your name to 'Todd'.

[puckinghischier]

Neighbors

nico hischier x fem!reader

summary - reader can’t bring herself to talk to her new neighbor

notes - guess who’s backkkkkk!!! y’all i have missed writing so much, and i’m so happy i could get this out to y’all. i’m a bit rusty so keep that in mind while reading, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. and as always, happy reading 🫶🏼

request - from my 400 follower celly - “Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission!” “What do you mean abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again” with either luke or nico

[3.3k]

“I really think today is the day, Mia,” you speak in to the cell phone wedged in-between your shoulder and cheek, putting away a few decorative trinkets on the newly hung shelf above your TV.

“You’re telling me you’re actually going to talk to him?” She questions, her tone telling you she doesn’t believe you in the slightest.

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you miss ‘I don’t believe my best friend has the guts to talk to a cute guy,’” you huff out, stretching your arm as much as you can to reach the high shelf.

“I mean, your track record precedes you, Y/N. You’ve said for three weeks now you’re going to introduce yourself and the universe has given you every opportunity possible,” she references the several hallway and elevator encounters you’ve told her about. “but, instead of hearing about a meet cute to an epic love story each week, all I get are stories of why you couldn’t say more than a garbled hi to him before darting into your apartment.”

Finally reaching the shelf, you huff both in response to her statement and the large reach you just accomplished.

After moving in to your new apartment a month and a half ago, you learned on your second day here that your neighbor directly across the hall from you is the most attractive guy you’ve ever met.

You ran into him while carrying a few boxes up to your new space, almost plowing him over while stepping out of the elevator because of your blocked field of view from the stack of boxes.

You apologized profusely, your line of sight still blocked, telling the stranger you know you shouldn’t be carrying this many boxes at once, but you really didn’t want to make another trip down and up. You made a bad joke about deciding to test out your sonar detection incase your eye sight ever left, and gave a few low, drawn-out beeps resembling those you’ve heard on TV.

When you heard the deep chuckle from the other side of the boxes, you turned yourself sideways to see who you almost ran over.

The man standing before you was simply the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. His dark, incredibly soft looking hair matched his dark brown eyes perfectly. The light dusting of facial hair covering his face was definitely working in his favor. The smile on his face was really what made your cheeks heat, though.

Feeling the embarrassment of your terrible joke creep up your neck, you slipped out one more sorry and then all but sprinted to your (thankfully) unlocked door, not even offering your name.

It was that night you told Mia about the handsome stranger, vowing that you were going to redeem yourself one of these days.

Since then, you’ve ran into him what seems like every other day, but never could find the brain power to actually speak to him. It’s either the cliché of both of you leaving your apartment at the same time, or you both end up in the elevator together in complete silence due to your avoidance of uttering anything embarrassing in the confined space. There was one time you unknowingly parked your car beside of his, the two of you walking together the entire way up from the garage to your floor with only a small hi and a wave from you, because you pretended to be listening to your headphones in order to avoid awkward small talk.

“Well, I was never ready all of those times,” you rotate your shoulder in a few circles, trying to work out the small sting you caused. “This time I’m ready. I can feel it.”

“If I was the one living next to him I’d be feeling something alright,” Mia quips back in a suggestive tone, leading you to scoff at her raunchy joke.

“Mia, I’m being serious. I think today’s the day. It’s Tuesday, so I’m pretty sure he should be getting back from the gym around three, which means if I go down to the lobby and pretend to be getting back from a walk around that time I’ll have the perfect in,” you confide your plan in her, having thought about your strategy since last night.

“You are being so insane right now, can you even hear yourself? Just go knock on his door and ask to borrow sugar or something. Then, when he asks what you’re cooking, invite him over for dinner and BAM! a date you didn’t even have to try for,” she suggests.

“Mia, that sounds like the start to a bad porno, I’m not doing that,” you refuse her suggestion right as you hear several loud voices coming from the hallway outside of your door.

Walking over to look into the small peephole, you see not only your attractive neighbor, but several other insanely good looking-men standing outside of his door. You look down at the watch on your wrist, noticing it’s only two, confused as to why he’s home right now.

You can hear Mia chattering away in your ear, but you have no clue what she’s saying, your brain too focused on the men in your hallway.

“Mia, shut up. He’s home,” you interrupt your best friend, causing her to pause momentarily.

“What do you mean he’s home? Did you not just tell me he would be home at three?” she asks you.

“I mean, that’s how it’s been every Tuesday until now. But he’s home. And he has…friends over,” you whisper, worried that if you can hear them they can hear you.

“Friends? Like, other guys? Or does he have a bunch of girls over? Y/N, if he has a bunch of girls at his apartment right now maybe this isn’t the kind of guy you want to go after. Seems like he can’t make up his mind. Or maybe he’s trying to be the next Hugh Heffner and is holding auditions out of his apartment,” you listen to her ramble. “And if that’s true you definitely don’t want to involve yourself with all that. I mean, can you imagine-“

“Mia, so help me God if you don’t shut the fuck up right now I’ll hang up on you,” you snap out, not enjoying her wandering mind.

Watching the men on the other side of your door laugh and converse has you even more curious. You’ve wondered since you moved in what he does for work. The hours he comes and goes are often inconsistent and don’t line up with any job you know of. He never seems to have the same days off, and sometimes you even go several days without seeing any sign of him.

You’ve wondered if he was a doctor, because it would explain the late nights and odd hours, but you’ve never seen him wearing scrubs, all of the men in the hallway currently sporting athletic wear. You thought maybe he was a lawyer, because you see him wearing suits pretty often, but he never carries a briefcase or anything else to prove your theory. You’ve even contemplated that he owns his own company, seeing as he seems to work when he wants and would explain the random down time in the middle of week days.

Of course, you understand you also have a lot of free time during the week, but you have a typical, nine to five office job, you just haven’t started at your new branch yet. Which is partially to blame for the new found obsession with your new neighbor’s whereabouts. You have way too much free time on your hands.

“Damn, someone’s grumpy today. It’s all that pent up frustration from not talking to mystery man. Just go outside and say hi already. Or is today really not the day?”

Even though she can’t see you, you roll your eyes at your friend’s words.

She’s teased you endlessly about this since the second you mentioned him to her. She’s even made a tally of how many times you’ve claimed you were going to speak to him and then didn’t (13 times to be exact). You know she’s just poking fun, but you also know she won’t stop doubting you until you actually do it.

It’s this that prompts you to tell her “You know what, fuck it. Today is the day,” and open your door.

The voices in the hallway stop, all four heads turning to look at you.

Your phone is still being held to your ear with one hand, while the other hangs down at your side.

Your neighbor, standing in the middle of the group, gives you a warm smile, taking in your appearance.

When you look down at your stained t-shirt and your neon pink pajama pants, you mentally palm your forehead, not even thinking to change before making your grand gesture.

Looking back up at the group, heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks, you freeze, the simple “Hi” lost on your tongue.

With furrowed brows and a tilted head, your neighbor speaks out a soft, “Hey there, you okay?”

You nod your head a little too aggressively and manage to squeak out a ‘Fine! Peachy! Never been better!” before slamming your door.

Turning and leaning against the cool door, you close your eyes and try to block out the memory of what just happened.

“Girl…I don’t know what just happened, but that didn’t sound like a hi,” Mia speaks from the phone, startling you, having completely forgotten you were on the phone.

“Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission,” you shake your head no.

“What? Abort mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor? Just go back out there and try again,” she suggests, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Yeah, and he’s too attractive. I can never speak to him again. Plan be damned, I’m going to have to move apartments again,” you whine out to her, letting the dramatics take over.

“Oh shut up, it’s not that bad. I’m sure he’s already back to talking about whatever with his friends. He’s probably not even going to remember it by the next time you see him,” she refuses to play into your drama. “Plus, you’re a catch. I’m sure he’s been as curious about you as you are about him. Sometimes the silent treatment works wonders.”

A knock on the door you’re leaning against startles you, causing you to jump away from it as if it’d burned you.

“Mia, someone’s knocking,” you whisper, looking out of the peep hole to see your neighbor’s smiling face looking back at you.

You let out a small yelp, jumping back again while covering your mouth with your hand, knowing it’s likely he just heard you.

“Mia it’s him. He’s literally knocking on my door, what do I do?” you ask he as he knocks again.

“Oh my god, you dumbass, answer it! This is your in!” she exclaims through the speaker.

“I can’t answer it! I’m wearing a ridiculous outfit! And I just opened and slammed my door in his face like a freak. Plus-“ you’re cut off by a muffled voice.

“You alright in there? I know you’re standing at the door, I can hear your voice. I just want to make sure you’re okay and didn’t need anything. Sorry if we startled you,” his accented voice carries through the thin door.

“I’m hanging up now, go talk to your man,” Mia chuckles and hangs up the phone, leaving you on your own to deal with the situation before you.

Cursing her, you bring your phone away from your face and wipe your hands on your fluffy pants.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that,” you speak through the door.

“You know, if you open the door I won’t bite,” your neighbor jokes, causing another wave of embarrassment to settle in your stomach, not knowing why you decided that talking to him through the door was a normal thing to do.

Taking a step towards the door, you reach for the handle and open it. You’re greeted with the handsome stranger standing not even a foot from your door, no sign of his friends.

He gives you an amused, but warm smile.

“See? It’s just little old me out here,” he brings his hands up in a surrender pose.

You give him a nervous laugh.

Observing his athletic attire, you admire the poorly hidden muscles peeking out from under his compression shirt. The sight makes your cheeks tinge red once again.

When he senses you’re not going to speak, he breaks the silence instead.

“So, you sure you’re okay? You seemed a little…frazzled a few minutes ago. Wanted to make sure we didn’t scare you or anything,” he starts. “I imagine four large hockey players standing outside of your door might seem a little intimidating to a single woman living alone,” he brings his hands down from his face, sticking them in the pockets of his athletic pants.

You wonder if the surprise is evident on your face. In all the time you’ve spent brainstorming about his career, hockey never crossed your mind. You knew your new city had a huge hockey following, but you never thought you were living across from one of the sports’ players.

Realizing you still haven’t said anything, you clear your dry throat.

“Oh, no, you guys didn’t scare me. I just…I don’t know why I opened the door, to be honest. Guess I had a major brain fog moment or something,” you lie, hoping he buys your lame explanation.

The man standing in front of you lets out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, as long as we didn’t scare you, I guess we’re alright then.”

“Yup, we’re good,” you pop the ‘p’, rocking on your heels slightly, needing to channel your nervous energy somehow.

You expect this to be the end of the conversation, but he still stands there, observing you.

“So, do I get to know your name, neighbor?” he questions you, breaking the silence between the two of you for the second time.

His question surprises you slightly, not expecting him to drag the conversation out any longer.

“Well, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” you hear the words come out of your mouth, with an unintentional flirtatious undertone.

“Nico,” he tells you with a smirk, leaving room for your own reply.

“Y/N,” you move to cross your arms over your chest.

“Since you didn’t protest, I’m guessing you are?” he asks vaguely, causing your brows to furrow in confusion.

“I’m what?”

“Single and living alone,” his smirk only deepens.

Well shit. Is he…flirting with you? While you’re dressed like this? And have only ever made terrible impressions on him before?

“Well, Nico, that depends on why you’re asking,” your mouth is apparently miles ahead of your brain right now, not knowing where this sudden burst of confidence and flirty personality is coming from. “Are you asking because you’re curious about your weird new neighbor, or are you asking because you’re some kind of serial killer that’s stalking his prey?”

This earns a real laugh from him, not just a short chuckle, and you want to melt at the sound.

“I’m asking because I think my new, ‘weird’ neighbor just so happens to be very attractive, but I can tell that she’s far too shy to ever make a move on her own, so I figured I’d help her out a little bit,” he leans forward slightly.

His words make your mouth snap shut and causes you to stand up a little taller, not at all prepared for the conversation to take this direction.

All these weeks of you avoiding Nico, dodging him in the hallway and the elevator, flat out ignoring him from the car garage to your doors, not even being able to say one coherent word to him, and it’s all been pointless? He’s been thinking about you all this time too?

You feel so stupid in this moment. Knowing that he caught you, and knew that you were running from him this whole time makes you squirm, and not in a good way.

Your mind immediately goes back to Mia’s words not only earlier today, but every other time you’ve discussed the man standing before you. Her insistence that you were psyching yourself out for nothing and all you had to do was talk to him echoes through your mind.

“Oh…uh…well…in that case, yeah. I live single. Wait, no, I mean, I’m alone,” you wince, hearing the trainwreck coming out of your mouth. “Okay, I’m just going to shut up now and nod my head,” you shake your head yes, preventing any more jumbled words.

Nico laughs at you once again, clearly amused and not at all repulsed by your awkward nature.

“Well, I live single too. Just incase you were wondering,” he echoes your previous word stumble, shoulders still shaking from laughter.

“Twinsies,” you blurt out, holding your hand out for a high-five.

Before you can make your brain work like a normal, functioning person, Nico slaps his open palm against yours, biting his lip to keep from laughing again.

“I think I’m going to stop while I’m still slightly ahead,” you start, taking a step back into your apartment. “Thanks for checking on me, but clearly I’m lacking any coherent braincells right now, so I think I’m gonna get back to decorating,” you try to end the conversation, not wanting to give yourself anymore embarrassing moments to keep you up at night.

“Wait!” Nico quietly shouts, his face showing it was his turn to be embarrassed, clearly not meaning to have screamed in your face.

You pause the closing of your door, staring at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just, do you want to grab dinner sometime? If you’re not interested that’s fine, but I wanted to at least put the offer out there before I don’t get the chance to speak to you again for another month,” he rushes his words a bit.

You’re so shocked you just stand there and stare at him for a solid minute, the braincells you lacked mere minutes ago now bouncing around in your head like a pinball machine.

Nico stands there expectantly, waiting on either an acceptance or rejection.

“Are you sure?” is what you manage to come up with.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Nico huffs out a laugh through his nostrils. “I’ll even do all the talking if you want.”

You knew you were already going to accept, but his offer made you feel slightly warmer inside. Obviously, he’s been victim to your inability to coherently speak during moments like these, but not pressuring you to carry a majority of the conversation and still wanting to spend the time with you despite your nervous habit sealed the deal even further.

Not trusting yourself to not botch your words once again, you nod your head yes, unable to hide the smile that makes its way onto your face.

Nico returns your smile, a triumphant look in his eyes letting you know he was genuinely worried you’d say no.

“Alright. Good. Awesome. Great.” Is all he says, taking a small step back towards his door.

“Well now you sound like me,” you tease, that small bit of confidence making its way back to you.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me already,” he shrugs. “See you around?” he continues to walk backwards until he meets his closed door, jumping slightly when he runs into the solid material.

You giggle at him, nodding your head yes again, finding his sudden nervousness cute.

“See you around, Nico,” you give a small wave before shutting your door, taking in what just happened.

You unlock the phone still in your hand, clicking on Mia’s contact before bringing it up to your ear.

“Listen I know you’re mad at me, and I probably shouldn’t have hung up on you, but I knew you wouldn’t talk to him if I was on the phone and you needed a push, so really I did you a favor-“

“Mia, today was the day,” you interrupt another one of her rambles, grinning while hearing her screams to spill every detail.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely!!! As I mentioned earlier, I apologize again do sending so many asks, I'm sick and stuck at home rn, so my brain has been working on overtime, so if I have an idea and think u might like it, I am sending them lol.

I wanted to know if u could write spencer x bau!reader, where reader is a technical analyst with Penelope for the team. But the last case was a pretty big one and she ended up sacrificing her sleep and needs to Penelope and everyone else could rest? So now that the case is over shes beng kinda stubborn and doesn't really wanna adress it, nor rest till she finishes the few remaining things?

Like always, you don't gotta write anything I request!!! I hope you've had a good week so far and get plenty of rest lol <333

Sincerely, :]

Hi sweetheart! No worries, send as many as you like! I'm just answering them at my own pace :)

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 876 words

“Hello my favorite genius.” Penelope snags Spencer by his sleeve just as he’s about to step into the elevator, using his momentum to swing him around and start him back the other direction. “I need you to get your ladylove out of my office—” she winces. “Our office. Sorry. Old habits, they do die hard.” 

“She’s still here?” Spencer asks, having learned long ago how to bulldoze through the fluff of conversations with Garcia. “I thought she’d be home already.” 

“Oh, no,” she says gravely, voice dropping to a whisper as they near the tech room. “I don’t think she’s been there in days. You cannot say anything, but she’s starting to smell.” 

Spencer prepares himself for the worst as the door opens, but all he finds is you, cute if a little bedraggled, hunched over your keyboard. 

“Hi,” he says tentatively when your glassed-over eyes don’t leave the screen. Your face is awash in blue light, blank but for the determined pinch of your mouth as you work. “Ready to go home?” 

“You can’t kick me out,” you say. Spencer blinks in surprise and a bit of hurt at your blunt tone before he realizes you aren’t speaking to him. “You can’t make him kick me out, either. I just have a few things left to do.”

“Very admirable work ethic,” Penelope shoots back, her own voice chipper with a steel edge, “but you’ve done plenty. We can finish this tomorrow.” 

You don’t stop typing even for a second. “Go home, Pen.” 

She gives Spencer an emphatic, helpless look behind your back, and he nods, signaling for her to go. She backs out of the room with her hands held up in front of her like she’ll need to ward you off, grabbing her bag and shutting the door behind her. 

“Hey.” Freed from the last constraints of professionalism, Spencer slips into his most honeyed tone. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I’ve got a bed and a fridge full of almost-bad takeout waiting for us at home.” 

“Just a couple of things left to do,” you mutter, but your tone is considerably less hard than it had been with Penelope. 

“There will always be things left to do.” He walks up behind your chair, setting his hands on your shoulders and his chin on your head. You smell a bit stale, a sure tell you’ve been too long in this room, but nothing so bad as Penelope had warned him about. Just day-old you. “I may not know the full scope of things, but I know you’ve been working really hard on this case. You deserve some rest. You need some rest,” he amends. “Let me drive you home.” 

Something like longing flickers across your expression, but then it hardens back into resolve. “Thanks, Spence, but I can drive myself once I’m done.” 

Spencer decides to switch tactics. Oftentimes, the best way to get you to accept help is to let you think you’re actually helping someone else. He straightens and takes a couple of quick steps back from your desk with your chair in hand, rolling you with him.

“Hey!” you reach for your keyboard, but Spencer’s already swiveling your seat, turning you to face him. 

He sets his hands on the armrests. “Sweetheart, I just got off a four hour flight after a three day case. I’d really like to go home, but I’m not leaving here without you.” The divot between your eyebrows takes on a new character, frustration softening into sympathy. “And you haven’t even let me say a real hello.” 

A spark of happiness lights your eyes a second before they fall closed, face tipping up in eager anticipation as Spencer dips down to kiss you. It’s soft and lingering, and you rub your lips together self-consciously after it’s over, realizing how chapped they are. Spencer wonders when the last time you drank water was. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.” 

“You’re not,” he reassures you quickly, wanting you pliant but not guilty. “I mean, I don’t mind. Of course I don’t mind waiting for you. But are you ready to go now?” 

You cast a hesitant, skeptical look back at your computer, but Spencer smooths his thumb over the inside of your wrist, and you relent. “Yeah, okay. I just have to come back early tomorrow to finish up.” 

Spencer hums noncommittally. He was already planning on disabling your alarms after you’re asleep tonight. You need rest more than the higher-ups need your reports. You stand, grabbing your bag from under your desk and letting him shepherd you towards the door. 

“Do you think we could order some new takeout?” you ask him. 

“Good idea,” he agrees, somewhat relieved. “The stuff in the fridge has chicken in it, I don’t trust that.” 

Your laugh is somewhat lighter than usual, exhaustion setting in now that you’re out of your cave, but Spencer relishes the sound regardless. “Yeah, me neither. Pizza?” 

“Pizza,” he confirms. 

You make it all the way downstairs before your eyes flare and you spin around. “Shit, I think I left the light—”

“Nope.” Spencer takes you by the shoulders, steering you towards his car. “Someone else will take care of it.”

[the-thing-withfeathers]

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist | next part

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface. 5.8k words.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

[missqhughes]

Kiss prompt 9 with my #1 lanky man Luke Hughesss??? 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

THE #1 lanky man. i need him. enjoy love!

-

it was a bad day of hockey for luke.

he felt absolutely miserable coming home after learning he wouldn’t be able to start the season due to a shoulder injury. as he drove home in complete silence, only the gentle whirl of the engine was heard, and a deep frown nestled on his face.

meanwhile, you were sat at the kitchen table, typing away on your laptop while catching up with some last minute class work.

you had been deep into your work, the faint jingling of keys at the front door brought you back into reality, and you shuffled to the door, opening it at the same time luke was pushing it open, his sad eyes boring into yours.

“oh, lukey,” you sighed, cupping his face into your hands, gently pulling him further into the apartment, “what’s wrong?”

“i can’t play,” his voice was tight, disappointment running through his words, “said i’m gonna be out 6-8 weeks.” luke’s frown grew deeper, his large hands reaching to wrap around your waist, drawing comforting circles around them.

“i’m sorry lu… but this could be good yeah? more time to prep for the season?” you caressed your finger along his cheek, a gentle smile cracking on his face as you did so.

“always looking on the bright side, huh?” he said, putting his things on your shared wooden side table, where a picture of the two of you lived. you took his hand in your small palm, guiding you both to the living room, luke bringing your hands back up to his face, finding comfort in your simple touch.

“sometimes you of all people need it.”

“i think i really just need you right now.”

your hands dropped from his face, moving down to his broad chest as he dipped down to place a soft, loving kiss on your lips. luke sighed into you, his mouth moving ever so slightly against yours. he moved your arms from your chest, wrapping them around his body as he took his lips from yours, instead pulling you into a sweet hug, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“is this making you feel better?” you giggle, feeling him smile into your skin as he places light kisses into your neck,

“so, much better.” he mumbles, his kisses heating up, little groans escaping his plump lips as he bit and sucked lightly into your skin. you closed your eyes, your hands finding his biceps with a firm grip. a small moan escaped lips, and with it you pushed away his face from your neck, him pouting when your eyes find his.

“calm down lukey, don’t even know if we can do any of that with your shoulder…” you tease, luke’s brows furrowing with your words,

“what? no it’s not that bad, i promise,” he pleads, finding the slight desperation in his voice adorable.

“i’m just teasing you baby. c’mon, gotta start making dinner.” you stand on your tip toes, him still having to bend his neck slightly to kiss you, feeling a grin against your lips before his mold perfectly to yours,

“and what’s for dessert, you?” he says, wriggling his eyebrows,

you roll your eyes, taking his hand and pulling him lightly to the kitchen, “yeah yeah, whatever.”

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

Part 2

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[randomshyperson]

Party Monster - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #01

Summary: A Halloween party takes an interesting turn when Wanda reunites with her ex-girlfriend. Maybe she'll learn a lesson or two, or maybe she'll still be terrible at following orders.

Warnings: (+18), Dom!Reader with Brat!Wanda, ex-girlfriends who are not over each other at all, really rough smut with teasing and orgasm denial, a lot of cursing, power dynamics, toxic behavior, unhealthy relationship (implied), the “cheating vs we are on a break” dilemma, mentions of a party atmosphere but no explicit alcohol consumption mentioned, Ghostface mask during smut scene ‘cause I’m a simp for Amber Freeman. | Words: 2.688k

A/N- Someone needs to get slasher movies away from me, but I thought this would be a good theme for kinktober. And we started with dom!Reader too because it’s a tradition. Good reading by the way, your horny people.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was definitely a bad idea.

Terrible, poorly thought-out, and reckless.

But Wanda finished putting the costume together and the final touch - the black gloves - made her take a deep breath, trying to gain a little confidence in her Halloween costume.

In the bedroom mirror, there was still a photograph that she knew she should have taken from there to at least fool herself that she could move on, but just as she had done dozens of times before, Wanda adjusted the item to prevent it from falling. 

Your smiling figure stares back at her, and Wanda sighs softly, ready to party.

She crossed the campus in half an hour, alone because the girls went ahead and honestly, Wanda wasn't that close to her friends nowadays. Not since the break-up anyway.

"Hey, Wanda!" The male voice shouting her name startles her for a moment. But she forces a smile as she is enveloped in a strong hug, Steve Rogers entering her field of vision in the next second. He looked drunk when she got a closer look. "Glad you could make it."

The forced smile begins to bother her face, so Wanda stops, swallowing dryly and trying not to look so uncomfortable. 

"Yeah, thanks." She mumbles awkwardly, nodding towards the open door, where the party seems even fuller and livelier. "Stark sure knows how to throw a party."

Steve laughs. "That he does." He says, looking ready to start small talk. Usually, he's as out of place as Wanda in crowded environments, but now he's got enough alcohol in his system to seem cool compared to the rest of the team's jocks, who stand out at parties with their eyes closed. "The guys are inside, come say hi and we can get you something to drink."

The non-existent details of the exact people who constituted the " guys " Steve was referring to made Wanda's stomach turn. But the blond had already grabbed her hand and was pulling her into the crowd, and frankly, Wanda wasn't going to make a scene.

She could handle the possibility of you being at the party, even if she hadn't seen you for four weeks. And three days, nineteen hours, and according to the clock by the beers, fifteen minutes.

"Guys, look who showed up!" Steve announces to the group at the ping pong tables. Wanda remembers the first year when you first visited the fraternity house and you made a joke about the number of expensive objects in the place, and she laughed even though she didn't really get the joke. God, she was so whipped back then.

The whole group looks at them at once. Wanda almost giggles at the scene, all the creative costumes are a sight to behold. Natasha in leather outfits similar to her sister's, or Tony in some kind of colorful armor. Thor dressed as the god after whom he was named, and Clint as a green archer. 

And then there was you, with a ghostface mask around your neck so you could get to taste your drink.

You almost choke on the liquid when you meet Wanda's gaze, and she could consider it a personal victory. At least you looked as affected as she was.

It's obvious that the atmosphere gets heavy. Everyone there knows that you two broke up and that it wasn't a pretty thing. Or easy.

And maybe that's why Yelena hides a tense laugh behind her glass of drink and Natasha rushes over to greet Wanda and put an end to the scene.

The only person Wanda really wants to greet tonight puts her mask back on. You drop the glass and leave without saying anything, making the mood even worse. 

Natasha clears her throat and strokes Wanda's arm gently. "Don't mind her, I, we, are happy to see you, sweetheart. I'll talk to her, enjoy the party."

It's sweet of Natasha to worry, but as the night goes on and you don't exchange a word, and you keep ignoring her, Wanda doesn't feel a bit better.

She tries to have a good time, but her gaze keeps seeking out your figure, which manages to evade her curiosity masterfully. 

You disappear for a good few minutes after beer-pong, and Wanda begins to consider leaving. So she dismisses Bucky Barnes' story about a mess with the rival team and decides to be miserable in her bed instead of at a party full of strangers.

She turns into the corridor and there's a Ghostface cornering a pretty girl at the bottom of the stairs.

Anger blooms and dominates her actions before she can think about it. She lunges forward and grabs the figure by the cap of the costume, hard enough to almost knock the couple over.

The male's shout makes her wince.

"Are you fucking mental?" Complains the stranger in confusion and indignation.

"I-I, shit, I thought it was someone else" She stammers with wide eyes, walking backward, away from the confused couple. 

The scene attracts the attention of a few people around, but she feels her back hit somebody and before she can turn around, two hands come around her waist and push her away from the angry guy.

Wanda blinks, and you shove him away harshly. "Back the fuck off, motherfucker." 

The man snorts indignantly. By now, half the party is staring at the scene.  "What the hell? She started it."

"And I'm finishing, fuck off." You cut him off coldly, and you probably wear that costume better than he does, because the guy hesitates and turns away to grab the girl's hand behind him, leaving without saying another word.

You turn your masked face to Wanda, and she feels hers burning with shame. All you do is shake your head in disbelief and take the hard way upstairs.

Wanda follows you without thinking about it.

She stops the bedroom door from closing with her hand and ignores your protest.

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to talk to you." You cut her off, holding up a finger. "I don't even want to look at you, Maximoff. Get the fuck out." You advance but Wanda is quicker. She closes the door behind her, and you end up pressing her into the wood by the arms. 

You sigh heavily, as affected as she is. 

"I thought it was you." She confesses in a shaky whisper, her hands trapped behind the body you kept squeezing. "I don't know what I'd do if I saw you with someone else."

You chuckle dryly, taking a step back. "Apparently you'd try to throw me to the ground."

Your attempt to pull away completely is interrupted - Wanda grabs your wrists, trying to get you to wrap your arms around her again. It becomes a struggle of pushing and impatient grunting. Until Wanda is forced against the bed, and her apologies break down into a dirty moan.

Your hand around her neck - in an attempt to get her to shut up and stop repeating what you don't want to hear - has a very different effect. 

You're on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with your own body. Wanda thinks you can feel how wet she is against your thigh.

"Don't make a fucking sound. I don't want to hear you, understand?" You warn, the loosest grip on her throat to allow her to breathe. Wanda nods obediently and has to bite her lip hard when you pull up her skirt, only to grope for her panties. 

Silence is an impossible task, especially when your fingers, so eager and familiar, thrust into her without warning. She squirms, throbbing in your fingerprints, and the sigh of pleasure is yours.

"Fuck, I've missed your pussy." You pant, fucking her carelessly, hard, and deep. The sound of Wanda's soaked arousal makes her ears burn - but she doesn't mind. She's busy trying to keep still, even when you're driving her over the edge so quickly. You notice, of course, and pull out as soon as she's ready to let go, and Wanda breaks into a loud whimper, her hips thrusting restlessly into the air.

You let go of her throat to grab her cheeks. "You're not going to come, Wanda. You don't deserve it. And you know why, don't you?"

Her pussy is throbbing, enough to be almost painful, knocking her out of orbit. All she can do is whimper, nodding; you let out a wicked chuckle. "And why don't you deserve it, darling?"

Of course, you'd make her admit it. Because everything so far hasn't been hell enough. Wanda turns her face away, and with her silence, a slap hits her pussy. She spasms, moaning loudly, her back arched in the mattress. 

She almost came in one go. Holding onto the edge at the last second.

"Oh god please." She whimpers shamelessly, and you grunt, watching the wetness ooze down her thighs, her pussy clenching against the emptiness in front of you. Wanda wants to come so badly that you almost feel sorry for her. "Just... one time. I'll do whatever you want."

You chuckle, and spread her legs a lit more to fit your body, pressing her against the bed. The friction between your joined hips makes her groan, trying to grind up onto you, but you remain firm, holding her still.

"Tell me." You demand. "Why aren't you allowed to come?"

She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "I... I can't."

You sigh impatiently and walk away at once. Wanda almost cries at the lack of contact.

"Get out of my room."

"N-no, please-"

"Then say it!"

Despite her shame, Wanda swallows her tears. "I fucked up."

You chuckle coldly, busy opening a drawer. "Clarify it." You command, and Wanda only obeys because she knows very well what's in the last drawer of your bedside table, she can feel herself clenching for the feeling. With a dry throat, and looking brazenly at what you're wrapping around your waist, she retorts: "I fucked someone else." She murmurs, biting her lip when the hardness is properly fitted. You laugh dryly.

"Hm, and why did you do that?"

Wanda spreads out on the bed, a bait. You don't fall for it. She pants in anticipation. "I wanted to get a reaction out of you. We're on a break. I wanted you to regret it."

Your hand begins to slowly masturbate the dildo and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, becoming even more aroused by the image. 

“I’m the one who will make you regret it.” It is your final clarification. But Wanda gasps.

"Take your mask off, I want to look at you."

But you chuckle again, darkly enough for Wanda to shudder. "What you want doesn't matter to me anymore."  You retort, and Wanda has no room for hurt now, the lust and longing for the feel of your body on hers taking over all her senses. "Get on all fours, you’re gonna watch yourself."

Wanda moves on trembling limbs, her face burning. She tries to ignore the mirror in the corner of the room, but as soon as you're behind her, your hand grabs her hair and forces her head up. 

The Ghostface mask stares back at her. "You're going to watch me fuck your needy pussy and you're not going to cum, Wanda. No matter how much you want it, how much you beg for it." You warn sternly, your free hand adjusting the toy at her entrance. "Because petty, selfish girls who ruin a three-year fucking relationship don't deserve to come, do they?"

She shakes her head, at this point, she thinks she'll agree to anything you say. And you must understand that pleasure has gotten the better of her because you start masturbating her entrance with the tip of the fake cock and it's enough for her knees to give way. She whines in a plea.

"Please-"

You sink into her at once, filling her to the brim and Wanda moans throatily, her hands clutching the sheets. The last time you were this deep, playing power games, Wanda squirted on the new sheets, and she's not sure that after going a month without touching you, she can stop it from happening again. "God."

You chuckle hoarsely, seeming to have the best time in the world with this. You pull out of her only to enter again, slow enough for Wanda to let out a sob. "Hold it."

"I-I can't." She cries out, choking on her own breath, and instead of taking pity, you sink in again, picking up a rough pace. Wanda would have fallen onto the mattress, but you grab her hair again and force her to watch what's happening.

"Look how beautiful you are when you're being properly fucked." You tease, your hips never failing against her. Wanda can only moan in return, each second more impossible to stop the knot in her belly from bursting. "I know no one makes you this wet, Wanda. No one knows your body like I do." To prove a point, your hand slips between her legs, and eager fingers flick her neglected clit exactly in the way that makes her squeal to the ceiling. 

Thank God for the loud sound of Tony Stark's parties.

Wanda is sure she's going to cum by now, and you can tell because you've been through this hundreds of times, and you know her body like the back of your hand. The fake cock slides out the second she's ready to let it go, and Wanda collapses flaccidly onto the bed with the lack of your hands while unable to hold back her tears.

"Fuck you, I hate you, I fucking hate you, you bitch." She babbled breathlessly, the frustration of her second stolen orgasm of the night making her groggy. You chuckle as she squirms on the bed, hugging her own body, and Wanda doesn't even notice that you've moved away just to lock the door.

Wanda is still trying to catch her breath when you remove the mask in one pull and kneel in front of her on the bed, between her legs which you pull open. 

You don't give her a chance to prepare, you move in and start eagerly fucking her pussy, ignoring how Wanda writhes on the bed and muffles her moans in the mattress. 

"Oh my god." She meows, her knuckles clutching the sheets, and the only thing stopping her thighs from closing against your head are your hands holding her tight. "I c-can't hold it, detka! 'can't-"

You stop again, and Wanda thinks she might kill you. This time, you sigh into her. "Hold it, or I swear to God I'll switch to another college."

Wanda is forced to chuckle at that. It's stilted and hoarse, and she knows there's a grain of truth in your words, but she does it anyway. Even more annoyed, you stand up. 

She despairs but is giggling nervously. "No, wait, babe, I'll behave, I promise."

It's your turn to chuckle, in disbelief at the scene. Wanda clung to you as if your departure was the worst thing in the world. 

"You're a lying brat, Wanda." You say, and despite the harsh words, your hand gently strokes her hair. Wanda sighs shakily, the redness in her cheeks showing how much she enjoyed the words. You push her hands away and take two steps back. Far enough, you quickly untie the item from around your waist. "I'm going back to the party. And if you want to cum tonight, you'll stay here. Waiting like a good girl."

She opens her mouth to protest, but you hold up a finger in warning, and the seriousness in your gaze is enough for her to know that if she disobeys now, you'll send her away.

Swallowing dryly, she lets you go, and when the door closes, she throws herself back on the mattress. 

Her body’s on fire, and the traces of your shampoo on the pillow don't help. She moans low, adjusting to touch herself. 

Maybe, just maybe, you won't mind if she comes while looking at your picture on the bedside table. 

[castiwls]

labyrinth - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'oh no, i'm falling in love. Oh no, I"m falling in love again'

Requested; @beanysofa

Notes; this song is so cute i love it sm! requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Oh no i’m falling in love

Falling in love after Jessica had seemed impossible. Just the thought left a queasy feeling in his stomach and an overwhelming sense of guilt. Falling in love would be betraying her, betraying the life they could have had. 

He’d never admit it but the thought of love scared him. Everyone he’d ever loved seemed to die or leave and every time it seemed like it was his fault. Sam had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that finding love was something he was simply immune to. While he craved the affection and security that came along with love he knew his love only put people in danger.

And he refused to let anyone else be put in danger due to him. But the world seemed to tilt on its axis when you first appeared in his life. The walls that he’d built over time came crumbling down more and more every day. 

The first time he’d realised what was happening was a week after you’d first appeared in his life. Sam had found himself yet again immersed in research when he’d been broken from his concentration by a plate being placed in front of him. 

He stared at the plate for a moment before turning his head. You smiled shrugging slightly, “You’ve been at it for hours. You need to eat.” You gestured to the plate before glancing at his laptop. He felt his breath catch slightly as you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to get a better look at the screen. 

Clearing his throat he looked back to the plate before him. “You made me a sandwich?” Sam smiled slightly feeling you lean back, your hand still on his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t think you’d appreciate a burger.” You laughed lightly. 

Sam let out a small laugh of his own, nodding his head slightly. You’d already noticed his eating habits enough to know what he did and didn’t eat. Did you really pay that much attention to him? The thought left a warm feeling in his stomach. You cared. “Well,” you gave his shoulder a slight squeeze. “I’ll let you continue. But promise me you won't sit here all night? It’s not as productive as you think.” You teased.

“I promise you I won't sit here all night.” Sam turned back to face you. You nodded before turning to leave. He frowned slightly at the loss of your touch, feeling the space where your hand had been slowly cool as you disappeared around the corner.

Taking a breath he turned back to his laptop. He started at the sandwich again, feeling a smile pull at his lips. The thought of you paying attention to him enough to realise things such as what he ate and his less-than-healthy sleeping habits left him feeling slightly giddy inside. A feeling he hadn't felt since…since Jess.

As he sat the realisation of what these feelings meant slowly dawned on him. He was doing the one thing he’d promised himself he’d never do again.

He was falling in love.

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Over the last few weeks, Sam had come to the realisation that he was in fact falling in love, and he was falling fast. He’d learned from a young age that he was someone who seemed to love too hard. Someone who fell hard and fast and then had to deal with whatever the fallout was after.

But you were someone that he couldn’t help but fall for. He knew it was a bad idea. Falling in love always seemed to be yet his head and his heart seemed reluctant to agree.

Sam stiffened slightly as you fell onto the couch beside him. Your leg pressed against his as your head fell back against the couch. “Tired?” He smiled tilting his head down to look at you. You let out a breath sending him a slight smile. “You have no idea.” 

You stared at the ceiling for a moment and he couldn’t help but slowly trace your features with his eyes. He barely noticed the smile that grew on his lips as he watched you blink at the ceiling. 

Just being close to you was enough to raise his mood and make his day better. Suddenly your eyes moved to his and he felt his breath catch. A slight blush crept on his cheeks as he realised he’d been caught staring.

Much to his surprise you said nothing, you didn’t even tease him you just simply held his gaze. After a moment you let out a quiet sigh, your head dropping to his shoulder. You both stayed quiet, as his gaze stayed on you. 

Slowly his body began to relax more into the couch. Cautiously his hand slowed moved until it brushed against yours. He’d noticed the way your breath had slowly begun to grow slower as you’d sat and was slightly surprised when your hand wrapped around his.

His eyes moved down to where your hands were joined and his blush seemed to grow even more. Laying his head against yours he felt his own eyes begin to droop.

He knew he was done for. You’d waltzed right into his life and seemingly claimed his heart against his will and there was nothing he could do.  The realisation had hit him like a truck that he was falling in love again. But maybe he was okay with that, maybe he was okay with falling in love as long as it was with you.

[2chopsticks2eyes]

Well Shit

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: ~30k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe, Vaginal Sex, Protected Sex, Unprotected Sex, Friends With Benefits

Summary: Your ex is a cheating bastard who had been your only experience with sex (which he was absolute shit at). Getting back into the dating game was not what you expected, so your older brother's annoying best friend, Minho, decided to offer to show you the ropes on what it's like to have actual good sex.

Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @kyungpenguin33. This took longer than I expected because life hit me like a truck for a while. But hopefully, nothing slows me down for the next fic I have in store!

__________________________________________

“He didn’t even fucking deserve you anyway! You’re too good for a guy that constantly smells like pickles and dick cheese.” Your best friend Tiffany blatantly carped as she sprawled out on your bed while mindlessly scrolling away on her phone.

You had just recently broken up with your boyfriend of three years and for some goddamned reason, Tiffany had to bring up the topic constantly. Apparently, once you get to college, boys decide they want the next, new thing. You just wished he would have ended things with you before he started fucking half of the ‘sorostitutes’ that were willing to open their legs for him.

You felt like a jug of milk. What was once a refreshing, healthy relationship, started to slowly become sour and curdled. You thought you two were in love, hence the long-lasting relationship, but you guess he saw the expiration date before you did.

It had been about a month since you ended things with him, yet here Tiffany was, rambling on and on about how she always knew your relationship ‘was doomed to fail’ and ‘emotionally toxic’. You couldn’t help but wonder, if she ‘always’ knew that, why did she never say anything to you about it? Why did she constantly fawn over him? Why did she feel the need to whine about how she was ‘so jealous of you for snatching him’?

Now, you loved Tiffany, you did. She was always there for you when no one else was. Even if she mostly acted as if you were a child and considered herself your influencer. You learned to look over it because, whatever she did, she did it out of love, right?

That’s what led you to invite her over to your house, well, more like your family’s house because who the fuck can afford to live alone on campus as a broke college student these days? 

Anyway, you were currently laying down on your stomach on the plush carpet of your floor with oodles of papers and textbooks spread around you while Tiffany, still on your bed, continued to berate you with nonsensical chatter.

“I knew he was a bad apple from the start, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be a good friend and be supportive of you. And now what? This is where it got you.” 

You rolled your eyes and slumped your head down into your hands. “I get it, Tiff. I should have seen this coming. But I’ve moved on now…” You were… partially telling the truth. “...and so should you. I’m glad you care about me, but I don’t even want to think about that douchebag ever again.”

She lowered her phone and raised an eyebrow at you that silently screamed ‘uh-huh suuuure’, then she sighed deeply and returned to her mindless scrolling with a ‘higher-than-thou’ look on her face.

“Tiff, didn’t you come here to study with me? We have finals in two weeks and a paper due in economics tomorrow.” You said while assessing her lax composure. 

“Oh, I’ve already gotten that taken care of. You really need to stay on top of that kind of stuff, ya know? Or else the next three years of your undergrad is going to be a disasteeeer~! Not to mention veterinary school after that!” 

You scoffed and returned your attention to the mounds of work around you. Here we go again with the whole ‘I’m more mature than you’ act. It’s true that you really needed to pick up the slack, but you also knew that Tiffany was only at a marginally passing grade. She always half-assed her work.

The sound of a phone buzzing pulled your attention and you looked up to see Tiffany putting her phone up to her ear. “Heeey baby! What’s up?” You internally cringed from her zero to sixty babygirl voice. “Right now? Yeah! Totally free!..... Uh-huh….. Of cooourse….. Kay kay! Be there in a jiff! Love ya babe! B-byyyeeee.” You wanted to gag but quickly composed yourself when she returned her focus to you, sitting up from the bed as she spoke. “Jay’s wanting to go out tonight so I’mma bouce!”

You wanted to say ‘why did you tell him you were free if you were obviously here for me?’ But you decided to just let it go. You weakly nodded your head. “Kay, have fun.” 

“Oh you know I will.” She said in a suggestive tone. She basically skipped away but stopped with her hand on your bedroom door handle. She turned back to you with a brazen smile. “Like, I know we’ve only been dating for, like, a week, but my god that man is way better in bed than my last boyfriend was.” She spoke quietly as if someone would hear her gossiping in this completely empty house.

“Who, David?” You engaged ruefully, not quite sure which poor soul you friend was preying on this time.

“No, silly! It’s Mark! David was the one I dated before Chad and Chad was the one before Mark.” She giggled bubbly.

You chuckled. “Man, you really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

She rolled her eyes and looked at you pitifully. “I can’t help it that I have standards that these guys can’t live up to!” She released the doorknob momentarily and began to look quizzical. “Now that I think about it, maybe I could hook you up with Jackson! He was one of the better ones!” She declared jovially while pulling out her phone again. “Plus, someone needs to show you what a good fuck is like now that your previous old scrotum has moved on…” She rambled as she searched through her phone.

You sprung up from the floor like lightning and rushed over to her. “Nononono, Tiff. No matchmaking, please. Especially not with your sloppy seconds!” You pleaded while holding her arm pathetically.

“Too late, love! Already sent your number to him! You’ll thank me later, trust me.” She winked at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. “Love ya lots! Lemme know what he says!” When she turned to the door and opened it, both of you were startled out of your skin to see a man with sandy blonde hair holding his hand up as if he was about to knock on the aforementioned bedroom door that was now wide open.

Lee Minho.

Why this motherfucking bane of your existence was here, knocking on your door, you didn’t know. But your focus was shifted by the bubbly giggle of your best friend. “Oh my god, Minho! I didn’t know you were here! Why didn’t you come and say hi to me??” Her exuberant voice rang loudly.

Your best friend was a serial flirt and everyone knew this, but it still pained you to watch it unfold firsthand anyway. Especially to the man she knew to be a close family friend.

“Uhhh, actually I came here to see your friend.” He awkwardly stated before he turned to you with a big, annoyingly cocky smirk. “Hey there, kitten.”

You just grumbled and pushed past him and grabbed Tiffany’s arm to see her out. 

As you two retreated, Tiffany hollered over her shoulder to him. “I hope we’ll cross paths on campus later! Bye, Minho!” You heard Minho reply with a faint ‘bye’ as you ushered her out with a quick hug goodbye.

Now, here's the thing you need to know about Minho, you don’t hate the guy, you just find his existence to be extremely annoying.

Lee Minho was your two-year-older brother’s best friend since you were in middle school. For as long as you could remember, Minho was a constant visitor at your house. He was always treated like family by your parents and that had never changed over the years. However, when your brother decided to study abroad and Minho wanted to stay at home and go to the nearby community college, you figured he would slowly drift away.

Nope. Why would you think such a thing? You already knew it was his life goal to be a pain in the ass.

That motherfucker would come to your place weekly, almost even several times a week, just to hang out with your family. For some reason, you were the only one who found it weird because your parent’s welcomed him with open arms like he was a part of the family. Even going as far as giving him the key code to the house! It wasn’t like he had a bad relationship with his parents or anything, he had a wonderful family! Which just made it more annoying when he would come around.

You couldn’t really figure out just why he got under your skin so much, he just did.

Which is why, when you shut the front door behind you and turned back inside to see a smug grin stretched across his unreasonably handsome face, you felt the urge to just go ahead and punch the pretty off of it. “Mom and Dad are out of town right now. You’ll have to come back next week to annoy me.” You said scathingly as you marched back to your room.

You could already feel yourself tense up when he turned to follow you. “Well, what’s the fun in that if I can just annoy you now? Just ‘cause your big bro’s gone doesn’t mean you can get rid of me that easy.” You dropped back down to the floor where your circle of stress resided and he plopped down onto your bed, immediately making himself comfortable on it as if it were his own damned cotton duvet he was sprawled across.

You snapped your head at him. “Do you have any particular reason to be here other than to drive me up the fucking wall with your shit?” You gave your deadliest glare, but that just seemed to amuse him further.

“No, that’s about it. Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know? Plus I would never be opposed to… what was it you said? ‘Driving you up the wall’? Sounds like a really fun challenge to me.” His smile was evil and you hated that it made him look even more attractive.

You scoffed in disbelief and returned to your notes. “Great. I feel honored to have warranted your undivided attention.” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Well, if you have nothing better to do, at least keep it zipped up while I study for my finals.” 

“Oh? You sure you don’t want me to zip it down instead? You might find something even harder than those finals there, kitten.” You shot daggers at him with your eyes but his suggestive smile remained all the same. This motherfucker… did he really just say that?

This was a norm between the two of you. He would teasingly make lewd or flirtatious comments to you and you would always tell him to kindly fuck off. You never truly had any malice to your words and he knew this. So, the playful banter continued.

“OR I might find myself with an outrageous hospital bill after I shove your testicles so far up into your ass that you choke on them.” Your voice was saccharine sweet as you openly threatened him. It was as if you were a well-behaved waitress that would spit in his pudding spitefully.

He didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry, babe. I’m not into the whole cock and ball torture kink. Maybe we can explore what you like instead?”

You hoped he didn’t notice the red tint to your ears as you muttered expletives under your breath. “What I’d like is for you to shut the hell up and let me STUDY.” You obviously sounded absolutely done with his playful banter and he finally relented.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Fine. I’ll leave you be this time, kitten.” He stood up from the bed and crouched down in front of you, flicking the edge of the textbook you were scanning over. “But if you ever need help with any of this, let me know.”

You just hummed your response, opening your laptop in front of you and refusing to make eye contact as he reluctantly slunk away from you and out of your house.

When you heard the front door shut, your head dropped from your shoulders to hang in front of you as you groaned. Why, just why, did you both end up wanting to be veterinarians? He constantly made fun of you, saying, “oh, it’s so cute how you want to follow in my footsteps!” or “you chose this major to be closer to ME, didn’t you?” 

UGH.

And that stupid smug face of his he made when you had finally declared your major was on a constant loop in your brain. He only called you that stupid nickname because you had rescued a cold and starving kitten on the side of the road when you were in high school and he named you that because that’s what made you find your dream of becoming a vet.

You were IN LOVE with your little Boots. Not to be mistaken for footwear, you named your kitten Boots because she was entirely black except for her four white paws. She was your number one emotional support after your breakup and you had no clue what you would do without her.

As if on cue, Boots casually walked into your room, licking her chops (most likely just finishing demolishing her food bowl like the little piggy she was), and nonchalantly plopped down right on the entirety of your keyboard as if it was her own personal heating pad.

“Boo-baby! I’m working!” You made no move to do anything about it because when cats demand your attention, it’s a crime not to comply. She just stared back at you with an adorable slow blink and your hand moved on its own to start petting her.

Her purring instantly started easing your mind and a fond smile bloomed on your face involuntarily. Slowly, her soft fur and soothing sounds washed away your worries. You felt the stress of school turn into confidence that you knew what you were doing and a reminder that your grades have been awesome. You felt that the annoyance of the people in your life, your ex, Tiffany, Minho, well… they didn’t really matter in terms of you living your own life.

This is your emotional support. Your precious Boots.

Without any words spoken or her even knowing what was going on, she knew when you were suffering. And she always made it her job to help you. That’s why it hurt your soul to meet people who say they hate cats because they are ‘evil’ or ‘assholes’.

Okay, yeah, they definitely can be assholes, but they aren’t inherently evil! They just have unique… personalities. It takes time and love to earn their trust, but when you do, the bond is like a special gift that is only reserved for you.

It was at that moment when you were lost in your thoughts that your phone buzzed. When you unlocked your phone, you saw a text from a random number.

Unknown Number:

Hey, is this Tiffany’s friend?

You:

Yeah, who’s asking?

Unknown Number:

Hey, this is Jackson

We met a couple of times a while back

Tiffany’s ex, remember?

You:

Yeah I remember

Look, I’m sorry if Tiffany told u something weird

I know she had good intentions but…

Please just ignore her lol

Sorry if she made u feel uncomfortable 😅

Jackson:

Nah, I’m not uncomfortable at all 🙂

Actually, I was kind of looking forward to talking to u

You:

Really?

Why tho?

Jackson:

I dunno 😅

I know we only met a couple of times

But I remember u were pretty cool

Really cute too 😉

You blushed a bit and found yourself kind of nervous. It felt like it had been ages since you were single and you just kind of forgot how to interact with guys that were interested in you… but you were kind of excited that someone was into you. Even if you felt like an utter twat trying to think of a response.

You:

Really?

Ur not so bad urself 😅

Jackson:

Oh yeah?

I know me and Tiff used to date and all but…

I was kinda excited to hear that u were available

You didn’t know if you wanted to thank Tiffany or strangle her.

Jackson:

I was wondering…

U have any plans for tomorrow night?

Okay. Keep it cool. Don’t be weird.

You:

I have class until 6

But after that I’m free

Jackson:

Nice, u wanna go to Sideways with me?

I hear they’re giving people one free shot tomorrow

You weren’t a huge fan of the local bar, too many college students and not enough dancing, you were more into the nightclubs where you could just dance to your heart’s content while blending into the crowd. Plus, who takes a girl to a bar for a first date? But you weren’t about to tell him that, so you figured one night wouldn’t hurt.

You:

That sounds like fun

Count me in

Jackson:

Awesome! It’s a date, then! 😉

I’ll pick u up at 8?

You:

Sounds good!

See u tomorrow! 😊

Jackson:

Bet, see u then

You screamed internally and looked at Boots. “Holy shit, Boo-Boo… What the fuck am I doing?” She just stared at you blankly, deciding she was bored with you now as she stood to stretch dramatically before she hopped up on your bed to make herself comfortable there instead.

You tried not to spiral into anxiety but this would be the first date you had been on after your breakup. You had no clue how to act or dress or not seem like a meager airhead that spends her Saturdays watching anime and cuddling her cat in bed wearing nothing but her panties and an oversized graphic t-shirt.

…Yeah you desperately needed assistance. You just prayed that Tiffany would be available to help.

________________________________________

“Not this… ew, no… oh GOD definitely not!” You just sat at your small vanity while Tiffany was raking through your closet to find you something to wear.

Classes were a lot less stressful that day than you had imagined and Tiffany was more than eager to help you get ready that night. You were thankful that you had a good amount of time to get ready because Tiffany was being super picky. Like, she looked like a fucking hound dog sniffing out anything that seemed even remotely designer.

“Do you have ANYTHING sexy in here?! I feel like I’m browsing through the clearance section at GAP!”

“Hey!” You knew she was kind of right, but she didn’t need to point it out so blatantly!

“What? It’s true!”

You huffed. Your ex never really took you out on fancy dates so you never really had the need for anything other than everyday clothes.

“Well excuse me for not dressing like fucking Kim Kardashian at the Met Gala!” She just crossed her arms and raised a brow in a ‘come at me, bitch’ kind of way. You sighed in defeat. “If I have anything remotely suitable, it’s probably buried in the back…”

You turned around to your mirror to continue with your hair and makeup, which was a whole other challenge in itself. You were already basically finished but you decided to be meticulous because, why not? Your new first date since high school should take at least a little effort, right?

“Well it’s not anything near perfect, but this will have to do.” You turned back to your friend laying out one of your black, tighter-fit dresses. “Where are your heels?”

You stood up and walked over to assess the dress. You hoped you could still fit in it, it had been forever since you wore it. “I can’t wear heels, remember? I would legitimately break an ankle if I stepped on anything that wasn’t even a tiny bit of flat ground. And even that is not guaranteed to keep me upright. Heels on me are just a hospital bill waiting to happen.”

She looked crestfallen. “Oh right, I forgot you’re clumsy as fuck. Those weak ankles will be the death of you, I swear” You giggled, knowing she was completely accurate in that statement. She hummed as she assessed your limited amount of shoes. “I suppose these strappy Mary Janes would look cute. Not necessarily the sexiest, but they will suffice.”

You had already stripped and were about to put the dress on when she stopped you. 

“You’re not going to wear that underwear, are you?” You looked down at your plain, black cotton bra and panties and shrugged. 

“Yeah, why not? Black works pretty well, no?”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have anything sexier?”

“Why? It’s not like I’m guaranteed to fuck him on the first date.” You stated as you grabbed the dress.

She grabbed it back from you with an incredulous face. “Are you serious?” She put the dress back down on the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders, donning her typical expression of looking down at you as if you were a child. “Honey. Now I know you haven’t dated in a while, but when a man takes you for a night out at a bar, he’s wanting to do the nasty, bump uglies, go home for ramen, Netflix and chill, beat that puss–”

“Alright! I get it! I get it!” You interrupted before she could plant any more images in your head. And really? For a first date? At this point, you really did feel out of the loop. You had only had sex with one guy, were you ready to go that far with a guy you barely knew?

“Well… I’m just gonna play it by ear… if he doesn’t like my underwear, he can go milk his monster by himself.” 

She sighed and stepped back, rubbing her temples. “Fine, but if that happens, don’t come whining to me and asking for more hookups.”

You didn’t even want this hookup in the first place! You had to internally hold yourself back from throwing a bitch fit and just forced yourself to calmly reply with– “Okay, Tiff. I won’t.”

She looked smug for some reason and you slid your way into the tight dress. “Ew! How is there already so much cat hair on it?!” She whined, trying to pat the hair off your ass.

“I have a cat, Tiff. Cats shed. You know this.” She looked annoyed and retrieved the lint roller from your nightstand.

When she finished rolling all the hair off you and you put on your shoes, she had you spin to assess you. She sighed. “Well, you’re no Audrey Hepburn, but at least you’re giving the right vibes.”

It was at that moment you both heard the front door open. Your parents were still on their anniversary trip so there was only one person it could be…

“Minho! We’re in here!” You quickly shushed your best friend, but the damage was already done. The door to your bedroom opened and Tiffany immediately walked over to grab him by the arm. “Ohmygod, perfect timing!” She was wrapped around his arm like a monkey and he looked slightly awkward until he looked at you. “Look at my masterpiece! I mean, probably not a masterpiece, per se. Especially with the limited resources I had to work with, but isn’t she great?!”

He was frozen next to her as he looked at you. “Y-yeah…” He seemed to snap out of it and he returned with his usual cockbox smirk. “What’s got you all dolled up, gorgeous?”

“None of your goddamned busine–”

“She’s got a hot date tonight! Like super hot.” Tiffany cut your scathing remark off.

Minho’s smile slightly faded and you rolled your eyes. “Okay, let’s not get carried away, Tiff. He’s a good-looking guy you decided to force upon me, that’s all.”

“Oh don’t give me that, bitch. I know you’ve already thought about fucking him ten ways to Sunday and back!” I mean with all the talk of fucking the man, how could you not imagine it?

You figured spit boxing was no use and, as if fate was on your side, Jackson texted you to tell you he was here. You huffed at the pair and grabbed your clutch purse. “Whatever, I have to leave anyway. Just lock up when you decide to leave…” You marched past the two and straight for the door before you felt a hand grab your wrist.

“Hey…” You raised a brow at Minho who had broken free from Tiffany’s iron grasp. “Be careful, okay? You have my number so call me if you need anything, yeah?”

You felt goosebumps and brushed off his hand. Was this Lee Minho being serious for once? What was the world coming to? “Yeah. Okay, whatever.”

And with that, you walked out the door, leaving Tiffany in your house alone with Minho. For some reason that just didn’t sit right with you. Why though?

________________________________________

The date was going… not as well as you expected…

The car ride was nice, he made pleasant conversation and he was super flirty. But when you guys got to the bar, Jackson ran into some of his guy friends and ended up getting absolutely wasted. However, he did keep you close to his side the whole time. Maybe a bit… too close? 

He had his hand around your waist the entire time, keeping you pulled close to him, and he paraded you to his friends like you were a fucking strumpet and they quickly seemed to take a liking to you as well. He had then decided to take you out back because he and his friends wanted to smoke.

“You want one, gorgeous?” Jackson offered you a cigarette and you declined.

“No thanks, I don’t smoke.” You decided not to mention that you thought smoking was absolutely repulsive and gave you the urge to blow chunks. However, you remained vigilant in your composure.

“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna try?” His buddy said across from you, absolutely sloshed.

“I’m good, thanks.” You couldn’t hide the disgust in your voice and there was a lull in their conversation.

One of the taller, beefier friends of Jackson spoke up. “That’s a real pretty girl you got there, Jax.” He tilted his head to address you. “You got any friends, darlin’?” 

Before you could answer, most likely to tell him to kindly fuck off, another man spoke up. “Or maybe Jackson wouldn’t mind sharing.” You immediately felt chills wrack your body. You didn’t know these men… you didn’t know what they were capable of…

They all laughed and you looked at them with disgust. You turned to Jackson and spoke quietly in his ear. “Can we talk?”

He looked at you with a lopsided grin and pulled you back inside, winking to his friends as he closed the door behind him. He led you to a quiet hallway next to what looked like the bar’s stockroom. You felt his hands move to your hips as he pressed you up against the wall. His hands roamed up and down your sides, making your skin crawl, as he looked down at you with hunger. “Kay, baby. Let’s talk.” 

Without any further indication, he started hungrily kissing you. You didn’t want to not reciprocate, but the man was all tongue and it kind of made you sick to your stomach, especially with the taste of cheap beer and smoke lacing his spit. You gently pushed his chest, but he refused to back away. You moved your head to the side to escape his mouth, but he just continued to kiss down your neck.

“Jackson! I really just wanted to talk!” You tried to reason while he continued.

“We are talking, baby…” He growled against your skin.

You had lost your patience when he started groping your ass. At this point, you found yourself pushing him, hard. “Get the fuck off me, Jackson! I want to go home!”

He froze in place, and when he stood back up straight to look down at you, he looked pissed. “What the fuck, bitch? You come out drinking with me, cling to me all night with this sexy little black dress, and then get pissed from a little kissing?!” He looked really pissed off and you wondered why in the world would your best friend hook you up with this guy. “You’re just a fucking cunt tease. Find your own ride home.” 

And with that, he stormed back into the throes of the bar. You were speechless.

‘Find your own ride’?! It was already past midnight! Public transit had already finished their routes for the night, your parents were out of town, and you couldn’t afford an Uber! There was only one other option and you really really didn’t want to have to resort to it.

You angrily stormed out of the bar and pulled out your cell phone. Here goes nothing…

The dial tone only rang once before you heard the receiver. “Hello?”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before you responded. “It literally pains me to say it, but I need your help…”

________________________________________

You stepped into the sleek, white KIA sedan and buckled up, refusing to look at the driver. You could feel his stare on you, but you really didn’t want to have to explain this whole embarrassing experience to him.

“I don’t even get a hello? So cold.” The teasing lilt in his voice made your blood boil, but he was doing you a favor, so you felt the need to indulge him.

You turned your head and donned a sickly sweet smile. “Hello, Minho.” Your smile instantly dropped when you looked straight forward again, waiting for him to get the fuck on with it.

“Oh, what lovely company you are! You should call me more often to come pick you up at 1 o’clock in the morning!” He said as he began to drive away from the front of the bar.

He had a point. This was actually a really big favor he was doing for you and you were being a raging bitch about it. You grumbled in frustration that you were forced to be grateful to this man. It was silent for a moment before you forced yourself to say something. “I’m sorry, Minho…”

You watched as he side-eyed you. “For?” He seemed to be genuinely at a loss for what you were talking about.

You felt the stress from the situation cause your inhibitions to falter. “I’m sorry for being an ass to you instead of thanking you for your help. I’m sorry that I was naive and thought that I would be able to go on dates like a normal person so soon after ending my three-year relationship. And I’m sorry to myself for being an idiot and letting that douchebag and his friends treat me like a whore and then let him kiss and touch me even though I didn’t want it!” Your voice became more and more upset the more you rambled on.

Minho full-on looked at you now. “He touched you?! Without your consent?!” He was visibly pissed and you couldn’t fathom why. “Who the fuck is this guy? Tell me his name. Does he go to our college? I swear, I’ll go full Bruce Lee on his ass.”

“Calm down, Nancy Drew. It’s over and done with. I’m never going to see that twat-waffle ever again…” His death grip on the steering wheel slowly relaxed, as well as the tension that was rising in the air.

It was silent for a moment and then you suddenly heard chuckling coming from the man beside you. “What?” You were about positive you were about to get miffed at him again.

“Did you really just say ‘twat-waffle’?” He asked while laughing.

You wanted to respond with something more defensive, but you couldn’t help but find his amusement contagious. “What? That’s what he is!” You involuntarily giggled through your words. “Seriously though, if that’s what guys are like nowadays, I might as well say goodbye to my sex life because there’s no way I’m dating that kind of trash! Not to mention that most men are incapable of making a girl climax anyway so that makes it even harder to find someone to date!” Shit… maybe you had one drink too many…

“Hey! Not all guys are like that!” He looked at you in mock offense. “In my book, if a guy can’t get a girl to cum, he doesn’t deserve to either.”

Your giggles turned into full-bellied laughter. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my brother’s best friend! Don’t tell me you’re going to join Tiffany in gossiping about my ex too!”

His smile vanished. “Why? That asshole doesn’t deserve a single breath of air let alone a whole conversation about him. He deserves to be left forgotten and the world will be better off because of it.” Minho had lost all humor at the mention of him and he spoke to you dead-serious. “You deserve to be with guys better than him. Better sex than him too from what it sounds like.”

You scoffed. “Yeah well, unfortunately, he has the only dick I’ve ever known. I don’t even have anything to compare him to, the bastard.”

He finally pulled up in front of your house and cut the engine. “You could compare him to me. Someone who actually knows what he’s doing.”

You started cracking up, but your laughter slowly faded when you realized he wasn’t laughing along with you. Wait, was he serious? Surely not… Your face morphed into one of perplexity. “You’re joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” He raised an eyebrow and looked as if he was challenging you. “Personally, I think you need to explore your likes and dislikes with someone who’s willing to be your guinea pig. We already know each other well, meaning I like to believe you trust me more than a random hookup. So, the way I see it, it makes sense that I would be better fit to show you what it’s supposed to be like before you go chasing guys that would probably end up like that, quote-unquote, ‘twat-waffle’.” 

He said while using his hands to motion his quotations, immediately opening the driver-side door and stepping out of the car before you even had time to process his words.

You had short-circuted and you were frozen in your seat as if you were glued to it. Hundreds of images, ones that you never thought in a thousand years would have crossed your mind, began flitting through your brain. You quickly came to your senses and ran after him as he began unlocking the door to your house.

“If this is just one of your stupid tricks, it’s not a very funny one, Minho. It’s actually really fucking shitty to joke about.” You declared, furious and defensive as the two of you stepped inside. 

He huffed and turned around to face you in the entryway. He looked slightly annoyed. “Like I said, not a joke. If you don’t want to and you think I’m crazy for even offering, then you can go back to dating douchebags who fuck like jack-rabbits just to leave you unsatisfied and I can go back to enjoying the fun task of annoying the hell out of you. No harm done.” He smirked as he walked off with a shrug to head toward the kitchen.

What the actual fuck was he thinking? How did he even come to this conclusion? No, why did he even want to fuck you in the first place? “You’re right, I do think your crazy–” He turned back to you, now holding a fresh glass of water, with a complacent expression plastered on his face. “...but…” You took a second to look at him. Really look at him. 

It had always pissed you off that he looked like a fucking Greek god with absolutely zero effort. He was cocky and proud and knew just what to say to get what he wanted. He was one of those people that, when you complimented him, would just agree with you and praise himself. He might have been the least humble person you had ever known.

Still… He wasn’t precisely rude about it, he just had an insane level of self-confidence. You supposed he deserved to be proud. His face was naturally beautiful, but you knew he at least put in some effort. Before your brother left, he and Minho would hit the gym constantly. And, by looking at the chiseled-looking man in front of you, he never stopped. From his teen years to manhood, age definitely treated him nicely.

Okay, if you were being honest with yourself, you may or may not have pictured what might be under all that linen. He is a gorgeous man, after all. And as you stood there staring each other down, your eyes drifted to his lips. It had been so long since you had been touched…

You found yourself licking your lips and he reciprocated the action. 

Minho suddenly walked up to you until he was inches from your face, looking down at you with an intense expression. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You bit your lip as you searched his eyes, looking for any sign of this being a sick prank. There was none.

“But?” He questioned with a smirk and a raised brow, imploring you to continue your statement.

What is he doing to me? I must be going crazy… Shit shit shit…

“...but…” You sighed, dejected. “You have to promise not to tell anyone…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you said the words that seemed to escape on their own. You were even shocked with yourself for even entertaining the idea.

His face morphed into several different expressions simultaneously. Shock, hunger, eagerness, and anticipation colored his eyes, but he donned a collected appearance. “You’re not drunk, are you?” He asked tentatively.

You looked at him in the eyes again with a scowl. You might have a bit of a loosened tongue, but you knew for a fact that you were nowhere near drunk. “If I were drunk, I would have vomited on you for even asking.”

With your scathing remark, he returned to his normal irksome demeanor. He smirked and bent his knees a bit to be at eye level with you. “Is that so? Then maybe I should just go home? Since it is sooo beneath you to see what I can do… how good I can make you feel…” He whispered so close to your face that you could feel his breath against your lips.

He brushed past you and headed toward the front door. You cursed yourself for what you were about to do, but the discussion was already leaving you needy as hell. “Wait.” You said with irritation coloring your voice, refusing to turn around to face him. You heard his footsteps halt and you closed your eyes with a short, exasperated sigh. Still unable to face him, your voice was firm. “Prove to me what you can do and I might be willing to use you…”

You didn’t have to look at him to know he was wearing an infuriating, triumphant smile.

He said no words, but you heard quiet footsteps grow near. As you waited in anticipation, you felt a shiver run down your spine when he gently swept your hair back off the side of your neck. You felt his breath against your ear before you heard his words. “My pleasure, kitten…”

First, you felt a single chaste and moist kiss be placed at the base of your jaw and you let out a shaky breath that you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Your fists were clenched so hard you could feel your nails digging into your skin.

Next, you felt the feather-light touch of his hands start to creep from your sides, down to grasp your hips. His now firm grasp pulled your ass back to be flush against him and he continued his slow torture of gliding his moist lips up and down your neck, your hairs standing on end with the ghosting breath against your heated skin. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” You hadn’t realized that your breathing had become heavier, but you heard his whispered words against your neck loud and clear. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just responded with an aggressive nod.

You felt his teeth as he smiled against you and his thumbs started rubbing circles into your hipbones. You were feeling the dizzying effects of his touch and smell and your mind was racing with thoughts of what he was planning on doing to you. As he started kissing your neck with a bit more purpose, a sudden thought popped into your head. “N-no marks…”

He hummed against your skin and you felt his tongue dip into your clavicle. “Of course…” His mouth started kissing, licking, sucking, and nipping just fervently enough not to leave marks and your breathing picked up as his hands started to wander. When he was sure that you weren’t going anywhere, his hands started gliding up your stomach to just below your breasts.

He teased you, acting as if he were about to make a move to cup them, but his hands started gliding back down. You found yourself desperately wanting him to touch you as his hands smoothed down the fronts of your thighs until his fingertips reached the skin at the hem of your dress. Your heart was thumping when he groped your thighs and his thumbs circled around just the inside of your thighs over your dress.

His ministrations were painfully slow, from his continuous devouring of your neck to the teasing of his hands. He denied you further touch again as he moved his hands, still playing at the edge of your dress, around to lightly grope your ass.

You were about to snap and you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. You spun around in his arms, obviously taking him off guard, and you didn’t allow yourself to think as you wrapped your arms around his neck and stole his lips with your own. Holy shit… you were kissing Minho…

At first, he seemed to be shocked by your boldness, but soon he began to kiss you back with equal amounts of fervor. His lips were soft and plump and his tongue danced along with yours as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You arched your body into him and he wrapped his arms around you, hands still tracing patterns down your lower back.

When he pulled you closer to him by your ass, you moaned into his mouth. You knew your panties were drenched and you were almost embarrassed at how quickly he managed to get you basically dripping for him. How could such a pestilent man affect you so intensely?

However, when he pushed you up against the wall and pressed himself against you, you could feel he was equally as affected. You hadn’t realized you were shaking in his hold until you moved your trembling hands up to tangle in his blonde locks. “Shit, Minho…”

You whimpered into his mouth and he shushed you. “Shhh, let me take care of you, kitten.” He sealed his lips to yours again and you felt his hands grope your ass once more before gliding one of them down to the hem of your dress again. Only this time, when he moved to the inside of your thigh, he dipped his hand underneath your dress to tease the edge of your panties.

“Oh fuck…” He chuckled at your falsetto, whispered words and he returned to attacking your neck as his fingers moved over to rub circles over your thin underwear.

Your head was thrown back in ecstasy as he pleasured you in slow motion. You had no clue why being this frustrated from his teasing would turn you on so much. You tried to grind down on his hand, but he still only lightly pleasured you.

“M-Min… please. Oh god!” He pinched your clit over the material and chuckled when you jumped.

“Tsk tsk tsk, so impatient.” He sighed against your neck before standing straight and looking down at you. “You can’t rush perfection, kitten. I’m going to take my time ruining you…” He pressed his lips against yours and you pulled him back by his hair.

“Well then take your time in my bedroom and not out here in the fucking hallway. I don’t want Boots watching.”

The smile that grew on his face as he laughed at your statement made your head feel fuzzy. Then, before you knew it, you were in the air, quickly wrapping your arms and legs around the man as he carried you to the bedroom, your dress hitching up to your hips at the action. He shut the door behind him with his foot and he gingerly sat down on the bed with you still stradding him. “Do you want me to strip or do you want to do it for me?” He raised a brow (those damned sexy eyebrows) in question and licked his lips with a lopsided grin as he pulled you as close as humanly possible.

Gosh, this man was infuriatingly sexy. “Aren’t you supposed to show me what I want, mister expert?” You quipped as you rested your arms on his shoulders.

He flashed his teeth and leaned back slightly, stripping only his t-shirt off before returning his hands to rub up and down your bare thighs. Your ogling eyes were beyond obvious and he gently grabbed one of your hands. He moved your hand to glide from his bulging pecs down to his chiseled abs.

He released you and allowed you to keep mapping his skin out with your hands. You wanted to lick him all over and trace every vein and crevice on his body. You found the courage to latch your own lips to his neck now and he hummed contentedly. You found yourself involuntarily grinding against the bulge in his sweatpants and he groaned.

His hands that had returned to your ass moved up to the back of your neck and one of them found the zipper on the back of your dress. You were shivering with excitement as you felt your back being exposed slowly to the chilled air and his hands felt like they were on fire as they caressed your bare skin.

However, instead of stripping you completely, his hands moved back to your thighs to creep up under your dress again, halting your movements. Your anticipation had stopped your mouth against him and you began panting into the crook of his neck. 

When he reached your panty line, his fingers deftly dipped underneath your underwear this time and you moaned into his skin when his fingers dragged through your folds. “So wet already…” He whispered in your ear before grazing his teeth over the shell of it. He quickly flicked the pad of his thumb over your clit and you hugged him close with a gasp. “Can I taste you, sweet thing?”

You could almost cum from those words alone. Your ex refused to eat you out because he thought the idea of it was disgusting. This made you extremely self-conscious of having him, or anyone else for that matter, see you naked for too long. However, Minho had you wound up so tight that the coil in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment and you really wanted to take him up on his offer.

You pulled back and looked back into his eyes which were black with desire. “Y-you… you want to do that?” The disbelief in your voice was apparent and you moaned when he shallowly dipped his finger inside you.

“Fuck, more than anything…” He bit his lip and you held onto his shoulders as he pumped his finger in and out of you.

Sooner than you would have liked, he pulled his finger out and your breath shook when you saw him lick his finger clean.

“Shit…” He said with eyes closed in bliss. When he opened them again, they were filled with pure, carnal desire. In the blink of an eye, he had you on your back with your dress shucked off and thrown into the dark abyss that was your room.

It was dark, only the moon shining through your window illuminating the god-like man above you, so you weren’t too terribly self-conscious. But with the way Minho sat there on his knees between your legs, staring down at you, it had you squirming a bit. Shit, maybe I SHOULD have worn sexier lingerie.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous…” His hands roamed over your thighs and drifted around to undo the latch of your bra. It quickly joined your dress and you cried out when his mouth was like a magnet to your nipples. I guess he doesn’t care about the underwear…

You couldn’t control your hips as you rutted up into him, desperate for stimulation as your nipples were being abused. You had to admit, the man did wonders with his mouth, and the thought of that tongue between your legs had you whimpering.

Without removing his mouth from your nipples, you felt his fingers loop under your underwear. He finally relented his attack to free you of your underwear and your whole body went stiff as he lowered his face between your legs.

He must have noticed because he immediately halted and looked up at you. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You were pleasantly surprised that he was so concerned about your comfort.

“No no, it’s okay! It’s just… he never… I’ve never had anyone…” You were too embarrassed to say it out loud, but he seemed to understand.

“Man, he’s more of a piece of shit than I thought…” You gasped when he kissed your inner thigh. “Just lay back and enjoy kitten. I’ll show you how it’s done.” And without further ado, he moved to hover over your entrance.

You shivered and your eyes closed in anticipation when you felt him blow his hot breath over your sensitive folds. And when you finally felt him… OH… MY… GOD…

You were incredibly grateful your parents weren’t currently home because the moan you belted out was absolutely filthy. Your hands instantly flew to his hair and he had to hold on to your legs to keep you from crushing him between your thighs.

It was everything you wanted and more and you were feeling delirious from it. He had started by sliding his tongue through your folds from base to your clit and then he closed his puckered lips around the sensitive bead and sucked while circling his tongue around it. You were almost sobbing it felt so good. When you felt him insert a finger and find your G-spot, you went insane.

“HOLYFUCKINGSHITRIGHTTHERERIGHTTHEREOHMYGODYES… Please don’t stop! Fuck please… Fuckyesyesyes! Don’t stop! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplea– AHH!” You unexpectedly came with furious power and you could feel yourself soaking his face violently.

In the moment, you felt like you were in heaven, but when he popped up from in between your legs with his stupid ass smirk and your release dripping from his chin, you were mortified. 

“Oh my god, Minho, shit I’m so sorry! Shit. Fuck! …That’s so fucking embarrassing…” You buried your face in your hands, so mortified you wanted to cry, and he immediately grabbed your wrists, pulling them away to show his befuddled expression.

“Embarrassing? I thought that was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do!” He looked at you like you were crazy, but your face was still bright red. Apparently, he could even notice that in the moonlight because he then guided one of your hands to the crotch of his sweatpants to feel his erection. You gasped at the heat you could feel all the way through the thick material. He leaned down and growled in your ear. “Does this feel like I thought it was embarrassing?”

You pressed your palm against him and he groaned in your ear. You were desperate to feel him inside you and you were suddenly bold enough to slowly dip your hand into his pants to palm him over his boxers.

“Fuck… do you have condoms.” He said as his head dropped to your shoulder.

“Y-yeah… top drawer.” You said motioning to your nightstand. 

He hopped up and made quick work of removing his sweatpants and boxers. Holy shit. Either your exes dick was super small or Minho’s dick was super big because the difference was catastrophic. When he knelt between your legs again, condom in hand, he must have gauged your expression. “Everything okay?” You could hear the humor leaking through his restrained voice.

Your blood was indubitably boiling. It’s just not fucking fair to be so fucking perfect. Just more grounds for him to be cocky as hell. You cleared your throat and looked to the side. You had to say something because, honestly, you were genuinely uneasy about it. “It’s just…” You side-eyed his beautiful dick again. “...I haven’t… I don’t…” You sighed in frustration, not knowing how to say it.

He began patiently stroking it. “The suspense is killing me, kitten.” He smiled sarcastically and you stared daggers up at him.

You huffed and looked away again, eyes involuntarily snapping to his dick again for a half second. “Like… how do you know it will fit? I mean your’s is like way…” You peered up at his face which was trying desperately to not erupt in laughter. You sat up and shoved him. “I’m serious, asshole! That thing is terrifying!”

He had exploded and your push caused him to collapse on the bed in hysterics. He was holding his stomach in pain from how much he was laughing and you glared at him.

“Fine! If it’s such a joke to you, then whatever! Now, if you’ll excuse me–” You attempted to get off the bed, but in the blink of an eye, you were on your back again.

“Now now, let’s not throw a temper tantrum, little thing.” You shivered as he licked up the column of your neck. “Not only can I make it fit, I’ll make you beg for it.” He kissed your cheek before grinning down at you mischievously.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Prove it.” This one challenging statement had him instantly devouring your mouth as his hands eagerly roamed your body. You tasted a hint of yourself on his lips and you couldn’t explain why that turned you on so much. He had you heated up again in no time, and when you felt two of his fingers slowly enter you, you moaned with his lower lip between your teeth.

He started pumping his digits in and out of you with blinding speed and it was almost too much for you. Involuntary ‘ah, ah, ah’s fell out of your mouth when he moved his mouth to your nipples and your eyes clenched shut when you felt a third finger join the others. He slowed his pace so he wouldn’t hurt you, but when you felt him insert a fourth finger, he knew exactly what to do to distract you from any discomfort.

He dug up into your g-spot again while his thumb circled your clit and you were shouting out expletives again. You were whining and thrashing and he sat back on his knees just to watch you fall apart. You felt another orgasm wrack your entire being, but your body screamed more, more, more. “Minho, fuck! Minho! Minho!”

“What is it, kitten? What do you want?” He gave you an evil sneer as he moved in inches from your face. You glared at him before you basically punched him with your lips.

“Fuck me right this instant, goddamnit!” You shouted with your head thrown back when you released him, gasping for air.

He pulled back again and laughed. “As you wish, your highness…” Your whole body slumped into the bed when he removed his fingers and you were panting from the intensity of the situation.

“Wait–” You snatched the condom from him, leaving him with a dumbfounded expression. “I wanna do it…” You ripped open the package and threw the wrapper into the void, tentatively taking his unbelievable cock in your hand and looking up at his expression as you slowly stroked him.

He looked like he could cum any second from finally having some stimulation after holding back for so long. Before you knew it, you gave him a little kitten lick on the tip, collecting a load of precum, and watched as he visibly shivered. “Fuck, kitten…” He sounded almost like he was in pain. Watching his throat bob as he dry-swallowed gave you a longing you couldn’t explain.

You decided enough was enough and you rolled the condom down his length before laying back and spreading your legs.

He bit his lip and his black eyes were devouring you, but he stopped himself as he hovered above you. “Jokes aside, tell me if I’m hurting you at all, okay?”

You felt your heart thump violently and you sensed an uncomfortable swirling in your stomach. Why was he being so nice to you? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Okay…” He smiled sweetly for once. “Now, for fuck’s sake, can you please just fuck me?” 

He cackled at your impatient remark and you gasped when you felt the heat of his tip poke at your entrance and he dragged it up and down your folds. You dug your fingers into his shoulders as he hovered over you, watching you to assess your expressions, and he slowly sank into you. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight discomfort, but the delicious feeling of his hot tumescence dragging against your walls had you seeing stars.

You whimpered as he slowly entered and you were glad to see that he wasn’t completely unaffected. His brows were furrowed as well and when he went as far as your pussy would allow, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder, keeping himself still as he breathed heavily. “Shit…” He mumbled.

“Yeah… shit…” You agreed as your fingers tangled themselves in his sandy hair. How did you get in such a situation to have Lee Minho buried deep into your sopping cunt? You both lay there trying to control your breathing while he remained motionless inside you. After the discomfort lessened and your desire grew, you started to squirm. “Minho… move…”

He began slowly grinding into you for what seemed like ages. And when you desperately rutted up into him, he wasted no time in receiving the hidden message. Immediately, he slowly pulled back and you felt him start to languidly place wet kisses across your collarbone. You cried out in ecstasy when you felt him expertly rock back into you.

His pace slowly started to increase and his kisses became more hungry as time passed. You pulled him up by his hair and made him lock lips with you, hoping that would stifle your moans.

It didn’t.

You were whimpering into the kiss and his hips moved in a way that hit all the right places. He released your lips so he could grab one of your legs and hold it in the crook of his elbow. He then proceeded to snap his hips into you as if his life depended on it.

“FUCK! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You cried out.

“Tell me how good it feels, kitten.” He said between breaths, eyes searching your own.

“Shit sofuckinggood– ah! Fuck! So good Minho!” You were just about sobbing now and you couldn’t find it in yourself to give two fucks about the undoubtedly cocksure smile that painted his face.

“Damn kitten, you’re so fucking tight. That asshole has no fucking clue what he lost. Fuck!” He sped up his thrusts and you were clawing at his chest, unable to handle the raw pleasure he was bringing you.

This was the most incredible feeling you had ever had and your reactions were like you weren’t even yourself anymore. One particular thrust had you screaming. “MINHOFUCKSHIT! DontstoppleaseMinhodontstop!!!”

“Fuck, I would never…” He huffed and he seemed close as well with the way his rhythm stuttered and his thrusts became more powerful.

You came while screaming his name and he came while burying his face in the crook of your neck with an animalistic growl. He rode both of you through your orgasms and then gingerly pulled out so he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Wait here.” Was all he said before he stood, tied the condom, and walked across the hall to the bathroom. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He returned with a washcloth and began cleaning you. Okay, he has definitely proved himself.

When he finished, he collapsed next to you on the bed with heavy lids, turning his head to look at you. You returned his gaze and sighed. “I guess I have a new guinea pig…”

________________________________________

Your economics class had just ended and you and Tiffany decided to grab some coffee and hang out in the campus courtyard before she went to her next course. Thankfully, you were free for the rest of the afternoon and you were desperate to get home and take a hot bath, maybe watch some porn, and take a well-deserved nap. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure something was really wrong with him. Like, he could not hold a conversation for shit.”

You laughed at your friend’s ramblings about her latest breakup. “Wait, so this one was Jay, right? The one you went out with after my place last week?” 

“Yyyep, that’s the one. Like I said before, the sex was amazing, but I need to date someone with an actual functioning brain.” She huffed and slurped down some of her drink that looked like a cupcake version of a coffee. “Like, how hard is it to find someone who’s able to fuck me like a whore but talk to me like an adult?! Those men are, like, nowhere to be found!” An image of Minho slamming his cock into you flitted through your mind, but you quickly snapped out of it.

You just continued to laugh because you knew Tiffany dropped guys left and right all the time for the smallest things. “There’s no such thing as a perfect man, Tiff. Might as well accept the truth.”

She grumbled and began to tie her hair up. You took a sip of your iced americano and arched your brow when your friend’s eyes lit up and she instantly took her hair back down and combed her fingers through it. She waved her hand in the air to someone behind you. “Minho! Over here!”

Oh no…

You whipped your head around and, sure enough, the man was walking toward you two with that same annoying-ass grin. After that night almost a week ago, you sent Minho home with an awkward (and slightly sexually charged) goodbye when you decided to take a shower. Since then, the only communication you had with him was a simple exchange of texts the following day:

Minho😈:

How r u feeling today?

Sore? 😏

Kitten😼:

Why? 

R u wanting me to leave u a Yelp review?

*Lee Minho: too cocky for his own good*

Minho😈:

Oh? So that WASN’T the best sex of ur life?

Could have fooled me 

I counted and… 🤔

Do u want to know how many times u screamed my name?

Kitten😼:

Ur fucking crazy

I have to go get ready

Later, psychopath 🖕

Minho😈:

Can’t wait 😉

…That had been the last form of communication you had had with the man and you definitely felt like you needed to have a serious conversation with him. But you were NOT prepared to see him NOW!

You quickly spun back around and scrambled to pick up your phone to make it seem like you were doing something else other than having an internal panic attack. “It’s about time I caught you on campus! I was starting to think you were avoiding me!” You couldn’t help but glance at your friend when she flirtatiously held his forearm when he reached the concrete ledge of the garden the two of you were sitting on in the courtyard.

“No, not at all. I’m actually glad I ran into you guys.” You refused to look up at him although you could feel his eyes burning holes into you.

“Oh is that so? Well then join us!” She tugged on his arms and you closed your eyes, praying that he wouldn’t accept.

“Sure, I’ve got some time.” Your eyes immediately snapped open and you watched as Tiffany pulled him down to sit on the other side of her. You scowled up at him when he leaned forward so he could talk to you around her. “Hey there, kitten. You seemed to be super interested in your home screen there.”

Tiffany giggled and you looked down to see that you hadn’t even unlocked your phone in your attempt to look busy. You could feel the blood rush to your ears but you just shoved your phone in your bag and fixed your vision on the bustling students roaming the courtyard. “So what if I am?” You tried to deflect the conversation. “Why are you here anyway? Where is your normal posse of goons? The ones I actually like?” And by goons, you mean the infamous Chris, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix. There were Seungmin and Jeongin as well, but they decided to pursue the same path as your brother, but you still missed them…

“Oh, they’re nearby. I told them to meet me out here when they were finished getting their coffee.” Of course they would happen to be here at the exact same time as you. 

“Then why aren’t you with them? Did you get lost?” You said as you finally turned to look at him with a sarcastic leer.

Fuck him for looking so incredibly gorgeous for no goddamned reason.

“Nah. I saw you guys out here and I thought it would be fun to come annoy you.” He winked and your face twisted into a disbelieving scoff.

“Okaaaay, I think I’m going to head to class early, babe. I see you two bicker too much anyway.” Tiffany stood up and said to you with a giggle, clearly trying to escape the awkward tension. “Oh! And Minho…” She opened her backpack and ripped a scrap of paper off of her notebook, scribbling something on it and handing it to him. “We never really exchanged numbers even after knowing each other for so long! So I thought I’d finally give you mine.” She bit her glossed lips with a flirtatious smile that annoyed you for some unknown reason. “Call me any time.”

And with that, she strutted off to class. The man looked surprised but slipped the paper into his jeans pocket nonetheless. He smirked at you and you realized you had a disgusted look on your face. “Are you seriously wanting to bag my best friend now? You’re disgusting.” 

Your gut churned as you looked away and you froze when you heard him scoot closer to you. “Why? You jealous, kitten?” You could hear the smile in his voice and you scoffed, head turning in the opposite direction from him before turning back.

When you looked at him, he was a lot closer than expected and your breath hitched for a moment before you regained your composure. “And what, exactly, would I have to be jealous of?” You tried to sound firm, but you could feel a hitch in your breath in between words.

You could have imagined it, but you watched as his smile faltered just slightly before returning to its teasing appearance. “I dunno, you tell me. Afraid of someone playing with your pet?”

You had to turn away because looking at him was just too intense. You scowled at the concrete, an uncomfortable retching feeling building in your stomach from the topic. “You can fuck whoever you want, Minho. It’s not like I actually own you…” You puffed out a half chuckle at the idea. You looked at him again and his smile, although still stretched across his face, was lacking in vibrance and color. “I’m just your friend’s naive little sibling that happens to have a pussy. You said it yourself, you offered yourself up to just be a guinea pig because I’m inexperienced. Nothing more.”

Why did it make you slightly queasy to say that? It was the truth.

Now his smile had vanished entirely. “Hey now, that’s not true and you kno–”

“Baby girl!!!” Minho was interrupted by a man running at you full sprint behind Minho and a smile automatically stretched across your face. You immediately stood up and opened your arms as he crashed into you with a crushing hug, picking you up and spinning you around with glee as the two of you giggled.

“Oh my god, Jisungie! It’s been so fucking long since I’ve seen you!” You giggled in his arms. “I know my brother isn’t home these days, but, sheesh man, you know you can still call or text, right?”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, girly.” He made a pouty face as he set you back on your feet and held you by your shoulders. “But I figured Min had been keeping you up to date.” He stated as said man stood up next to you with a grumble.

Jisung was a part of your brother’s group of friends even though he was your own age. However, Minho and Jisung hit it off the most and they undoubtedly had the closest bond within the friend group. This being said, the two ended up being roommates once Jisung graduated high school, and, unless Minho was loitering at your house, the two were attached at the hip.

Unlike Minho, you and Jisung always got along swimmingly. Actually, you loved everyone in your brother’s group except for Minho, which is why it was kind of a comical irony that you and Minho had ended up in your current situation. They all also knew your particular distaste for Minho…

As if reading your mind, the rest of the group soon followed Jisung as you could see them walking towards the three of you. Felix’s arrival was much like Jisung’s as he wrapped you in a huge hug and kissed you on the cheek.

“Where the hell have you been, princess??” Changbin said as he came and ruffled your hair with the annoying title most of them had taken to calling you.

“Buried in my studies, that’s where. As soon as I started here, I instantly regretted cramming most of my credits into freshman year.” You chuckled.

All three of the boys that were also in their freshman year, Jisung, Felix, and Hyunjin, groaned in agreement. “Tell me about it! I even signed up for the bare minimum and I feel like my life is crumbling. I don’t know how you do it!” Hyunjin whined.

“But it’ll be worth it. I did the same in my freshman year and, now that I’m in my senior year, I don’t feel like I’m killing myself just to graduate with my bachelor's.” Chris said from where he had his arm flung over Minho’s shoulder as the younger man wore an artificial disgusted guise from the action.

“You really do need to take it easy sometimes though, love. You’ll burn yourself out.” Felix said with a concerned smile as he played with your hair. Jisung had wrapped his arms around your waist from the other side of you and rested his head on your shoulder and you giggled at the two boys’ affection.

“I know, I know. I just want to make sure I can make it into Veterinary school after graduation.”

“Which reminds me. WE were having a discussion so will you guys–” 

“You two?! Talking?! Without tearing each other apart?!” Hyunjin dramatically interrupted Minho as the group looked back and forth between you and him with befuddlement in their eyes.

“Yes.” Minho said through clenched teeth with a scowl at the man who instantly recoiled. The feisty older blonde quickly pried Jisung off of you and eyed the younger’s amused expression. “Now kindly fuck off, all of you vultures.” Minho continued as he grabbed your backpack from the ledge and wrapped his warm fingers around your wrist and briskly dragged you away.

“Bye, princess! I’ll text you and we can all meet up sometime!” Chris bellowed at your retreating form.

“Sounds good!” You waved at the five smiling men with your free hand and they all waved back.

Minho led you out of the courtyard and through a couple of buildings, finally leading you to a semi-demolished parking garage that was notorious for being unoccupied. When the two of you walked in, you saw his car parked in probably the only spot that wasn’t in ruins.

“Have you gone completely brain-dead? Why are you parked in this dilapidated lot? You know they have much closer parking with way less risk of being squashed by rubble?”

He just shrugged as he opened the passenger door for you to get in and simply replied. “Free parking. And I don’t mind walking.”

When he finally hopped in the driver’s seat and started driving you eyed him. “Where the fuck do you think you’re taking me?”

“You don’t have class, right? I thought I’d take you to mine. Make you some dinner as thanks.”

To his? As in his apartment?! “Thanks for what? For letting you fuck me? I’m pretty sure there was a mutual benefit there, Min.”

He puffed out a half-chuckle. “No, you pervert. It’s a thanks for trusting and listening to me the other night by giving me a call to pick you up when you needed me.”

For some reason, you felt your cheeks heat up and you scoffed. “Trust might be an overstatement, but that was just because I didn’t have any other choice.” He shot you a crooked grin at your snide comment.

“Well then, I suppose this is me thanking you for using me for yet another reason.” He winked at you and you turned your head to look out your window with a scowl and crossed arms when you felt your face turn bright red.

When you entered his apartment, it wasn’t quite what you imagined. For some reason, you expected to see posters of half-naked women on the walls and trash everywhere. But, as far as you could see, the place was actually clean and decorated very nicely with spotless surfaces and the only thing that you could see that you had expected were the various game consoles by the TV. The typical fuckboy energy was noticeably absent. 

There were two separate rooms on the left side of the large living room and a sizable bathroom close to the entryway. The kitchen was on the far wall with some pretty flowing curtains hanging from the windows surrounding it. The living area was directly left of the entryway in front of the kitchen with a large sectional couch and a cozy armchair.

His place was… really nice.

As he shut the door behind him and took off his shoes next to your own, he assessed your face as you looked around. “What do you think?” He almost sounded… hopeful?

You contemplated your response. “It’s… a lot more mature than I had expected…” You couldn’t look at his face as you verbalized the semi-compliment, instead running your fingers over the soft leather of the couch and taking in the concentrated scent of pure Minho.

Why was that so appealing to you?

He chuckled behind you and you whipped around when you heard he was much closer than you had anticipated. “Well… thanks? I guess?” You cursed yourself when your eyes flitted down to his plump lips. And, judging by the shit-eating smile on his face, he knew.

However, instead of acting on it, he just walked around you into his open-floor-planned kitchen. “What do you want to eat, kitten? Canned tuna? Maybe with some warm milk?” He teased.

“Har, har. You’re a comedic genius, asshole.” He just cackled at his own lame excuse for a joke. “I dunno, what do you have?”

He pressed his palms on the countertop of the island and leaned forward, your eyes lingering a bit too long on the prominent veins of his forearms. “I was thinking kimchi fried rice, does that sound good?”

You basically moaned. “Oh god, my favorite.”

He flashed you a crooked smile. “I know.” And with that he simply turned around and got to work, leaving you caught off guard and a tiny bit flustered.

________________________________________

“That was probably the best kimchi fried rice I’ve had in my entire life.” You groaned from where you sat at the island counter, holding your stomach from how much you ate. “I feel like I’m about to explode, though.”

He briefly lifted a brow at you over his shoulder from the kitchen sink where he quickly washed the dishes. “Was that a compliment I just heard?”

You flipped him off and he guffawed. “Don’t flatter yourself, it was merely an observation.”

He wiped his hands off and moved to stand on the other side of the island from you. “Do you want some wine?”

You glanced at your phone for the time and saw it was already almost six. You thought for a moment and assessed the cute, pleading pout he donned. You rolled your eyes. “Fine, it’d better not be shitty box wine though.” You eyed him speculatively.

He looked disgusted. “Gross. I’m not a Neanderthal, kitten.” He pulled out two wine glasses and sat them on the counter. “Red or white?”

You just stood and walked over to the living room to judge the comfort of his couch. “Don’t care, surprise me.”

As you plopped down, you could instantly feel yourself being absorbed by the plush cushions and you groaned. You closed your eyes for one moment and listened to the pouring of the wine and the clinking of the glasses before he stood in front of you, setting the bottle on the coffee table and handing you a rich red wine. You claimed the glass, swirled it a bit, and sniffed before taking a sip.

The bitterness was perfectly complemented by the sweet and fruity undertone, an obvious decadent fermentation. This surely had to be an expensive red. “Holy shit, Min. What is this, Merlot? Pinot Noir?” You tried to look at the bottle from where the couch was swallowing you, but the label was facing away from you.

“Cabernet actually. You like it?” He inquired as he sipped his own serving.

“It’s probably the best red I’ve ever had.” You savored another large swig.

He narrowed his eyes with a mischievous smile. “The best food and the best booze? I’d say I’m a pretty good host.”

There he goes with the self-appreciation again. You rolled your eyes and continued to drink enthusiastically. “I would hardly consider this booze, Meanhoe. But don’t worry, you still have time to screw it up somehow.” A sudden thought crossed your mind. “By the way, where’s Ji? He should’ve been here by now.”

He just chuckled and refilled your empty glass, which you accepted eagerly. “I told him to stay at Chan and Changbin’s place tonight.”

You arched a brow at him. “You told him to? And why is that?” You were inexplicably anxious as you guzzled your drink a bit. Shit, you were going to develop an alcohol dependency from being around this man.

A grin slowly grew on his face once he took a sip and sat his glass down. “I told him that I was having a pretty girl over tonight.” He was slightly leaning toward you, now biting his lip to tame his smile.

You were drinking more out of bashfulness now. You knew your face was flushed, but you tried to maintain your composure all the same. “How presumptuous of you. Is that the only reason you invited me over? Am I just here so you can bag me and send me on my way?” Your stomach churned painfully at the thought. It’s your fault anyway by agreeing to this mess.

His face fell and his eyes widened in panic. “What? N-no, I–”

“Because if that’s the case, I think I should just leave now.” You chugged the rest of your glass and set it down on the coffee table. 

He gently kept you seated by placing a hand on your bicep. You could feel his heat searing through your shirt. “Kitten, no! Listen! I’m sorry I said that. I really just wanted to make you dinner.” You eyed him hesitantly. “We haven’t talked much since that night and I mostly just wanted to get the chance to talk to you alone…”

In your rush to get up, you hadn’t realized how close the two of your bodies had become. You were lost in his pleading eyes as you mumbled. “Then talk…” You tried to sound begrudged, but your voice came off more wistful than you had intended.

His thumb stroked your bicep from where he continued to hold onto it and he sighed. “I know that the other night just kind of happened out of nowhere.” You bit your lip and blushed, memories of the night flooding your vision and making his grip on you seem more intense than it actually was. He sighed and released your arm, allowing your vision to clear a bit. “I wanted to apologize for what happened… I know you’ve always hated me and I didn’t mean to take advanta–”

“What? I don’t hate you.” You blinked at him, bewildered. Yeah, you were always annoyed by him and were irritated by his constant overwhelming presence and teasing. But you wouldn’t say you hated the man.

He looked at you perplexed. “But I thought–”

You cut him off again by placing a delicate hand on his thigh and raising a brow. “Minho, just because I have a general distaste for your antics doesn’t mean I hate you.” He gazed into your weary eyes for a moment and then looked down at where your hand was resting on his bare thigh where his shorts had risen from sitting down.

You were suddenly all too aware of how you had involuntarily leaned toward him, and you pulled your hand back as if you had just placed it on hot coals. You cleared your throat and sat straight again. “So… you don’t hate me?” His wry grin made your blood boil. Damn girl! When did you become so thirsty?

You scoffed and tried desperately to look anywhere but at him. “Don’t get a big head Minho, you still are the most infuriating person I have ever met.” You pushed his shoulder and he cackled. Your lame attempt to hold back a smile was futile as you leaned back and let the couch envelop you once more. You lifted your chin to indicate the wine bottle on the table. “Do you have any more?”

________________________________________

You had tears in your eyes as you cackled hysterically when Minho was telling you of the time he and Jisung had been forced to make out at one of their parties during a truth or dare game. He explained that the rest of the group was even more bashful than they were when it was all said and done.

“When we dared your brother and Felix to do the same, even though Felix didn’t mind, your brother had to drink the nastiest assortment of cocktails just to get out of doing it. We teased him for months and Felix, to this day, threatens him with smooches.”

You had fallen over on his shoulder and clutched your stomach as it ached from the laughter. He couldn’t control his own chuckle as he sat down his half-empty wine glass next to yours and the two bone-dry wine bottles on the table. Needless to say, you were pretty tipsy.

“What do you mean by make out though? Are we talking just swapping a bit of spit? Or were you full-on licking each other’s tonsils?” You felt a lightbulb blink on in your head and you shot to sit up. “Ooh ooh! Show me how you kissed him!” You puckered your lips and leaned toward him, still unable to contain your giggles. He looked startled momentarily and he leaned back to look between your eyes and awaiting lips before you saw the makings of a smile grow on him.

“Oh, it would be my pleasure, kitten.” You watched the signature evil smirk on his lips and your breath hitched when his palm cupped your rosy cheek. Like a tiger, he pounced on you, making you lightheaded as he immediately intruded your mouth with his tongue.

He was relentless and you were struggling to keep up with his expert tongue as it roamed your mouth and he bit at your lips. His free hand wrapped itself around your waist and held you close as his lips pressed against you aggressively.

When he finally pulled back his hands and released your lips, you found yourself subconsciously reaching for him again. He looked almost as caught off guard with the kiss as you were. Your eyes were glazed over in a wild drunkenness on Minho that affected you way more than the wine had. His face abruptly turned serious when your hands wrapped around his shoulders and tangled in his hair to prevent him from retreating.

He searched your eyes and you found yourself feeling hot all over when he wiped away a stray tear that had escaped from your laughter just moments before the tension rose in the air. Before you knew it, you were surging forward and capturing his lips with yours once again.

He hummed in a surprised tone and returned his hands to your waist as you devoured him. Before long, you swung a leg over to straddle him and pulled yourself flush to him when the ache between your thighs became too strong.

He smiled against your lips but pushed you back by your shoulders. You glowered at him with a huff as he chuckled at your cute pout. “Kitten, I told you this isn’t why I brought you here. Not to mention the fact that we’ve been drinking.”

Your arms that were still wrapped around him still tried to pull him infinitesimally closer and you basically growled like a cock-hungry animal in heat when he resisted. “I get that you’re trying to be polite, Minho, but I legitimately want the opposite of that right now.” His push wavered and you got close enough to whisper against his lips. “I want you to be disrespectful, Minho. I want you to be absolutely filthy.”

You briefly passed your tongue over his pouty upper lip and you could tell that his resolve was close to ruin. His closed eyes and the low rumble in his throat proved as much.

When he still refused to falter, you glared at him with a fire that could burn through his soul. Time to bring down the hammer. “Please, Minho. You aren’t likely to have me so shamelessly groveling for dick again.” You challenged and his eyes opened with a new darkness to them.

You slightly heard him curse under his breath and you were abruptly flipped over onto your back with the man between your legs, your hair splayed out against the velvety soft leather of the couch. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t requested me to be so rude to you, kitten.” He growled as he lewdly surveyed your body with his hands.

“Try me.” You dared him once again, already breathless.

He licked his lips and bit at his lower one as his eyes skimmed the bare skin from your ankles to your shorts. His hands roved over your legs slowly and the ache became even more prominent. You huffed in frustration.

“Minho! Get on with it!”

He looked down at you with an expression you had never seen before and you shivered when he grabbed your arms with blinding force and pinned them above your head. He whispered against your lips with malice. “You want me to be disrespectful?” You pondered, but could only dumbly nod your head as a certain vibration racked your body, the sensation making you an airhead fuckdummy. “Then shut the fuck up, kitten. Or you won’t get anything tonight.”

You were speechless. You had no clue how frightening Minho was when he wanted to be and you knew that you had probably drenched your panties all the way to your shorts with how aroused you were getting. His grip on your wrists had you arching up into him and his bulge against your crotch had you panting.

He sneered and abruptly smoothed his tongue up the column of your neck all the way until he sucked your ear lobe into his mouth and nibbled on it. You whimpered and spread your legs further to urge him to press closer.

To your dismay, he pulled his pelvis away from yours as if he knew exactly how much it would drive you mad. You groaned in frustration and glared up at the man smirking triumphantly above you when he wouldn’t release his grip on your wrists. “Fucking Lee Minho! You’d better do something soon or I’m just going to go home and take care of it myself!”

He moved a hand but refused to release yours as he held both of your wrists with the strength of the one that continued to pin your arms. “Is that so?” With his freed hand, he slowly traveled the back of his index finger in a feather-light touch down the center of your forehead. “Because I don’t think…” His finger slowly cascaded down the arch of your nose and over the crest of your lips to continue its way down your neck, cleavage, and abdomen. “...that you can touch yourself the way I can…” Well, shit.

His eyes that had been following the trajectory of his finger suddenly snapped back up to your face as he traveled his way down to the crotch of your shorts, sneaking up inside them from the leg hole and breaching your panties to just barely graze your throbbing entrance. Your brows furrowed and your voicebox had a mind of its own when it ripped out a desperate whine and a small “please”.

His eyes were dripping with lust and you watched as his tongue swiped over his delicious plump lips. “Fuck, that word sounds so pretty coming from your mouth… Say it again for me, beautiful?”

The fog of red mist that blurred your vision and rationality slightly died down enough for you to remember to act annoyed with him. You just glared up at his dark irises in defiance.

He smiled wickedly, knowing precisely what you were playing at. “Wanting to be a brat, are we?” His fingers, which were still playing with the edge of the crotch of your panties, retreated from your shorts entirely and you could have sworn you felt a frustrated scream rise in your throat.

“Wait!” You whined and his hand paused on your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and resigned yourself to becoming a vulnerable bitch-baby tonight, too heated for any alternative. When you opened your eyes, you made sure they looked like hot embers that would burn through his self-restraint and, if the defenseless expression on his face had anything to say about it, you had succeeded. And to hopefully drive your efforts home, you sensually whispered. “Minho… Please.”

The last word came out in a broken whine and you inwardly congratulated yourself when you heard his breath hitch just the tiniest bit.

You weren’t quite sure of the chain of events, but in the blink of an eye, you were thrown over his shoulder and carded away to somewhere else in the apartment. He moved so fast that before you could say anything, you were being thrown down onto a plush mattress and had hands fumbling with the button of your shorts.

When you lifted your hips so he could yank off all obstacles between him and your bare body, you sat up to quickly undo his own jeans. It felt like you couldn’t get them off fast enough, hands shaking with anticipation. When both of you were finally stripped bare, he had you pinned down again with one of his hands and his other hand was already exploring your wet folds.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He groaned against your lips and you could only whimper in response as he slid two fingers inside you and immediately curled them to find your sweet spot again. “You want me to be disrespectful?” He questioned with a smile that pressed up against your panting mouth. When you nodded, he released your hands and crawled in between your legs. “Then I’m not stopping until you beg for my cock.”

The fingers inside you immediately got to work and he sucked on your clit with a force that blinded you. “HOLY FFF–” You couldn’t even finish the word as it got stuck in your throat from the overwhelming velocity he was working with to bring you to your first orgasm. Your hand involuntarily slapping and gripping the sheets with force.

Your jaw was slack and your whole body tense with all of the sensations you felt all at once. Your fingers slowly tangled in his soft blonde hair and you couldn’t even breathe when you reached your starry peak. When your orgasm settled and you finally exhaled with a loud, drawn-out grunt, you realized he wasn’t stopping nor slowing down. If anything, he seemed to be working even harder, flicking your pearl with his tongue even firmer, and thrusting his fingers even faster.

Now, instead of being unable to breathe, you were almost hyperventilating with the oversensitivity of it all. You could definitely finish your words now as you clutched the sheets with white knuckles. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Minho! Minho! OhgodMinho!” His name was a mantra on your tongue and you could almost see the smirk in his dark eyes as he looked up at you.

You were in too much bliss to care at the moment and after your next orgasm crashed over you, you came down from it with a sob. When he still refused to relent, you were in a purgatory of whether it felt like the greatest pleasure you had ever felt or the most painful oversensitivity you could think of.

However, after those first and second orgasms, the next ones seemed to have a snowball effect. The next one happened even sooner after the other and the next one was even faster than the last. This continued until your whole body was in a constant state of tremors. You could barely even recognize your own voice through your sobs as you begged. “P-p-please M-Min–” You exclaimed before a gasp of much-needed air. “Please! I-I need y-you!!”

He smiled up at you and relented, crawling back up to hover over you as he pressed the fingers that were covered in your juices to your awaiting lips. You sucked them in immediately, eyes hooded as you watched his lustful gaze. You suddenly felt him pulling your jaw down with those fingers to open your mouth for him and, once you had opened all the way with his fingers on your tongue, He stuck his own tongue as far into your mouth as he could possibly reach and he licked up the roof of your mouth.

The feeling of the wet muscle against your gums made you want to plead for him to do more god-awful things to you.

You whimpered as your free hand floated between the two of you to grasp his leaking cock. His mouth froze on yours and you felt the vibrations from his moan reviberate into your own mouth. As he released your jaw and moved away from your mouth, you began giving him lazy pumps to coax him to do more. “I need you, Minho. Please…” He froze in place, as if trying to regain his composure, but he failed miserably.

He seemed to be just as desperate as you because he was off you and pulling out a condom from his bedside drawer in a flash of dewy beauty. Your eyes hazily roved over his body as he tore open the condom. You couldn’t deny it, he was most undoubtedly the most beautiful creature you had ever laid eyes on and it pissed you off to admit it.

When he had finally rolled the rubber over his length, you were startled when he roughly flipped you over on your stomach and lifted your hips in the air, slowly sinking into you as the stretch caused both of you to moan in tandem. He had one of his hands digging his fingers into your waist and the other tangling into the hair at your nape, both of them using you as leverage to begin forcefully thrusting inside you with a vengeance.

Your face, which was firmly pressed into the silky smooth sheets, was scrunched up in pleasure and oversensitivity that was arguably even more delectable than before. You had no clue why it felt so good to be manhandled, but you soon realized that this was yet another one of the unknown pleasures that Minho had introduced you to. You were bound and determined to discover even more with him.

You felt like you were melting into the earth as he pounded into you and you felt yet another overpowering pressure threaten to explode in your core. Every thrust pushed out a tiny yelp from your lips and you felt Minho move both of his hands to your breasts and bend down next to your ear. “You have one more for me, kitten. I know you do.” With that, he tweaked your nipples and you cried out loud enough you were sure you shook the foundations of the building. “That’s it, good girl. Cum for me.”

You were shaking profusely through your orgasm and he pumped into you with blinding force until he, too, came unraveled from the pleasure he found in you.

The air was mingled with your combined panting and the steam rising from yours and his skin. When you felt him pull out of you, it was all you could do to not pass out then and there. Your head was in a haze and you just laid there, limbs limp, for an unspecified amount of time. You could vaguely hear some shuffling from somewhere inside his apartment. Some running water, a door opening, and closing, then your field of vision was obstructed by the man standing in front of you in just a pair of boxer shorts.

Holy shit, he’s so goddamned gorgeous.

He set down a glass of water on the nightstand and started wiping your spunk and sweat off of you with a damp cloth. “M-Min, I can–”

“Shhh.” He quieted you, but you were adamant. He had made it painfully clear that none of this was serious, so there was no point in staying longer.

You reluctantly lifted yourself off of the bed and slunk away from his unidentifiable expression as he stood watching you, towel in hand. “I’m going to have to leave anyway so I’ll just save you the trouble. I’ll shower at home.” You really didn’t want to have to make the trip back to your place, but when you looked at the time, it was already almost time for the last nearby transit to stop for the night. “Oh shit, I have to go, I’ll miss the bus!” 

You rushed to collect your clothes scattered about the room and you watched out of the corner of your eye as the man aggressively threw the towel in his laundry bin. “If you are gonna leave, at least let me take you home.”

You grimaced at the sharpness of his voice. “What’s the big deal?” To the naked eye, he seemed blasé, but you could tell he was secretly aggravated by the way he pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

He swiftly ran his hand through his hair, still mussed from your eager fingers earlier. It seemed as if he was deep in thought, looking at nothing off to the side until he neutralized his face, looking back at you. “Nothing at all.” He shrugged, feigning indifference. “I would just rather you not head back home so late by yourself.”

You sighed in defeat, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. “Fine.” You grumbled and turned to head towards the front door. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” He asked as he hobbled after you while trying to put on his pants at the same time.

“Yes, Minho. Right now. I’ve sobered up and it’s making me super tired and I have class early in the morning.” Again, he was silent as he threw on the rest of his clothes and led you out of his apartment.

The car was eerily silent the entire way back to your house and when you got out of the car, his only farewell was a solemn “G’night.” Before slowly driving away.

Much to your dismay, the whole encounter made the night a sleepless one and you knew the next day would be a complete nightmare.

________________________________________

Your head drooped as you struggled to keep your eyes open in the back of class. Several times throughout the day, you had found yourself nodding off in every single one of your lectures. Not to mention the weather was absolutely horrid with the muggy April rain and thunder that threatened to lull you to sleep every other minute. By the end of your last class, you were finally confronted about it.

When you had eventually fallen completely asleep on your desk, you had awoken to a loud thud of a foot hitting the leg of your desk. Your head whipped up at the speed of light and saw your professor standing over you with an arched brow and a disapproving frown. “Really? Now? I would have expected this of some of the other students, but you?”

She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. You quickly stood up and collected your things. “Oh my god, professor I’m SO sorry! I had a hard time sleeping last night and–”

“I don’t care about the reason, just don’t let it happen again.” And with that, she left you without another word, bulldozing over the words that were lingering on your lips. 

You marched out of the classroom, unbelievably irritable and aggravated. It’s not your fault you were up all night! Your mind refused to let you sleep! If anyone is to blame, it’s Lee fucking Minho. Why did he have to act like such a pouty prick last night? Just because you saved him the effort of cleaning you even though you were going to immediately shower when you arrived back home?!

You were silently fuming as you made your way through the building and, on your way to the exit, the man of the goddamned hour showed up. Speak of the fucking devil! He was next to an open classroom door that students were filing out of while he leaned up against the wall talking to a classmate.

She was a small, cute, petite blonde and you don’t know why, but just the sight of the duo disgusted you. She giggled and placed a delicate hand on his bicep and you wanted to barf. You knew he was free to see and talk to whoever, but how was it fair that he was wide awake and acting as if he didn’t just get laid the night before while you were utterly miserable?

You had to walk right by him to get out of the building and you were feeling pretty petty anyway, so you used the students passing nearby to your advantage as you fell into step with them. When you neared the couple, his back was to you and you ‘accidentally’, and rather aggressively, shouldered past him and continued on your merry fucking way.

You hadn’t even made it more than a few meters before you heard your name being called and the pattering of fast-paced footsteps nearing you. You decided to just continue walking as if you didn’t hear him and you finally felt the man grab your arm and swing you around to face him. A scowl was already reared and ready to go on your face when he turned you around and it just deepened when you saw his stupid beautiful face with his stupid cocked eyebrow.

“To what do I owe this delightful company you bring on such a gloomy day?” What a complete shift from his icy attitude last night… You couldn’t disguise the absolute disgust that lingered on your face as the petite blonde who Minho had been talking to just moments before decided to slide her slim fingers down Minho’s strong forearm as she passed.

“See you tomorrow night, Minho.” She purred in a sultry tone and a lustful gaze as she walked away backward for a few steps before finally turning and strutting down the hall.

You turned back to Minho with the nastiest grimace you could muster and he looked at you even more smug than before. “Better watch out, kitten. Your jealousy is showing.” He chuckled as he whispered the words close in your ear. The entirety of your hair follicles stood on end and you willed away your goosebumps as you stepped away from him.

“Stop spewing your shit. What do you want with me, Min?” Your question was clipped and you didn’t wait for a response before you started walking towards the exit once again.

He quickly caught up to you and walked in front of you backward, facing you as if it were the easiest thing in the world to match your pace despite the direction he walked. His grin was still dopey and stupidly attractive. “Someone’s got her panties in a twist! Didn’t like my friend back there?” You could see the taunting in his eyes and you just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk from his face.

“I couldn’t care less about your friend.” You failed to hold back the venom from your voice as you spoke and his smile grew. You huffed. “Unlike you, I don’t spend all my free time fucking my friends.” Again, the words were dripping with malice.

His smile faltered. “And who ever said I was fucking around?” His voice had become slightly agitated and you tried to appear unfazed by it.

You shrugged and looked straightforward, just to realize the two of you had come to a complete stop in the abandoned hallway. “You seem to take that sort of stuff pretty lightly, considering all things, and it doesn’t take a genius to see the effect you have on people.” You didn’t even have the chance to gauge his reaction before you were pulled to the side by your forearm.

The next thing you knew, You were being pushed against the door of a small, dark room off to the side. Is this a fucking janitorial closet?

“For your information–” You couldn’t see his face too clearly, but his voice almost sounded like a snarl. Threatening even. “I don’t take that shit lightly. I barely even know that girl outside my classroom.”

“But she said–”

“For christ’s sake, there’s a party tomorrow night! It’s Chris’ last one before he graduates and he wanted me to be there.”

You blanched. “Oh…” You kind of felt hurt that you didn’t know about it, but these were technicallty your brother’s friends. They had no obligation to babysit his little sister while he was away.

You were ever grateful to the pitch darkness of the room so Minho wouldn’t see the sheer disappointment on your face, but his eyes must have adjusted to the light because you suddenly felt the feathering of his fingertips over your cheek. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, kitten.”

You willed back the angry tears and slapped his hand away. “There’s no misunderstanding, Min. We’re fuck buddies. It’s none of my business what you do and don’t do with other people.” It was silent for a beat before you continued. “And I don’t need to know what our–” You huffed and pursed your lips, whipping your head to the side so you didn’t have to face him. “...what your friends are up to.”

He was quick to place his hands on your arms and step closer. “Kitten! They’re your friends too–!”

You wanted to punch something and you cut him off with a raised voice. “And speaking of late night shenanigans–!” You pressed your finger to his chest. “You.” Your eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and you watched as he backed up with wide, befuddled eyes from your aggressive shift in demeanor. “I was up all fucking night because you decided to keep me all wound up from everything that happened last night!”

You could faintly see him trying to hold back an amused smile and stifle a laugh. You almost growled at him as you grabbed his retreating form by the shoulders and turned him around so you were the one pressing him against the door now. “It’s not fucking funny! I got chewed out by my professor because I fell asleep in class!”

He made no attempt to hide his amused smirk and he laughed at your pissed scowl. He leaned down to face level with you and narrowed his smug eyes. “Oh? Did I leave you wanting more?” You scoffed in disbelief at his audacity. “Because I would have happily taken care of it for you if you had stayed with me.”

You were burning from the inside out and you couldn’t tell if it was from the rage or the tension that permeated the small room.

He straightened back up and sighed. “You only have yourself to blame, kitten.” He tried to free himself from your grasp, but you refused to release him. Instead, your body moved on its own as you crashed your lips to his.

You could feel the bewildered tension in his body only for a millisecond before he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, his tongue eagerly falling in sync with your own. You pulled back only slightly to hiss against his lips. “Fuck that. This is your fault and you’re going to fix it.” 

With that, you began quickly unclasping his belt and popping the button open on his jeans. “Woah! Kitten, we’re at school!” Although his words said otherwise, his actions made no move to stop you.

“Exactly. And you’re the one who felt the need to hide us away in this godforsaken closet, so we’re going to make good use of it.” You refused to look him in the eye as you sank down to your knees and mouthed at his slowly hardening dick over his boxer briefs.

The shudder of his breath was music to your ears and you hummed against him when he smoothed his hands over the top of your head. “Fuck, kitten…” He groaned. “I thought I was supposed to take care of you.” You felt the soft thud of his head leaning back against the door.

You pulled your mouth away so you could free his erection from its breaches. “Yeah, and I would rather be ‘taken care of’ with a hard dick rather than one so flaccid you’d think you just walked in on your naked grandma.” You eagerly sucked down his length and the weight of his cock on your tongue made you press your thighs together.

His voice was strained as he grunted his approval. “Trust me, kitten. You’re able to make me hard as a rock in no time at all, even without needing to do all this.” With that, he grabbed your hair and pulled your mouth off him. He bent down and angled your head up to look straight at him. “Now get up off that disgusting floor and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll feel it through next week.” The huskiness of his voice had you swimming in your panties and, after he tucked himself back in his pants, you quickly obliged as you let him drag you outside and to his car.

________________________________________

“Shitfuckshit more, Minho!” You were almost sobbing from the damned tease and the firm patterns he was applying to your clit in the car as he rushed back to his apartment. You were basically dry-humping his hand as he continued to torment you over the thin fabric of your leggings and you could almost cry in relief when he finally parked in the lot of his building.

You couldn’t get inside the door quick enough before you were on him like a pack of wolves, devouring every inch you could get your claws on. He was quick to respond as he returned your ravenous kiss and stuck his hand under the waistband of your leggings and underwear. His finger ran along your folds and you gasped at the delectable touch. “Shit… you’re so fucking wet…” He groaned against your mouth and you felt yourself being led backward so he could press you up against the wall.

He pulled away from your mouth to look at you as he slid two fingers into you and pressed his palm firmly against your clit. You threw your head back against the wall, jaw slack, as you held his strong forearm in a vice grip and ground down on his hand. All the while feeling the muscles move under the skin of his arm. He obviously enjoyed your reaction as he bit his lip to hold back a cheeky grin. You tried to restrain your noises, but a choked sob breached your lips when he latched his lips onto your neck.

His fingers were slowly thrusting in and out of you and it was heaven but hell at the same time. You couldn’t control the buckling of your knees and felt his other hand tighten around your waist.

When he was sure you wouldn’t fall, he retreated his hand from inside you and he laughed at your affronted face, completely offended that he would rob you of such pleasure. However, this was quickly rectified once he sunk down to his knees and stripped off your undergarments. You were breathing heavily as he looked up at you with blackened eyes that bore into your soul.

Wordlessly, he took one of your bare legs and draped it over his shoulder, pressing his moist lips to your inner thigh soon after. Your breath shuddered when his other hand ran its fingers through your inner labia once again and your gasp was evident when he gently kissed your clit. Still staring into your hooded eyes, he slowly inserted three fingers and you mewled at the stretch.

When his lips and tongue clasped around your clit, you were done for. Instead of thrusting his fingers, he was now digging and pressing rapidly against your g-spot as your orgasm washed over you. You whined and mewled as he led you through your high and you had absolutely drenched his face and your legs.

You grabbed at his shirt to pull him up and he chuckled as you pulled him by the collar to his bedroom.

You found yourself aggressively pushing him down on the bed and fumbling at his belt and jeans to rid him of them. When you finally shed both of y’all’s clothing completely, leaving no separation between your bodies, you instantly climbed up him to straddle him.

He quickly grabbed your hips as you lifted your hips to position him at your core. “Woah, wait! L-let me get a condom!” He shuffled to remove you from his lap, but you refused to move. Instead, you dropped yourself to place your sopping pussy up against the length of his flattened dick, not penetrating, just teasing as you slid your heat up and down him.

It looked as if the action knocked all of the breath out of him and the grip he had on your flexing thighs was enough to make you shudder from the delicious pain. He had his head thrown back against the plush bedding and had his eyes scrunched up as if he was using every ounce of his willpower to not just fuck you raw. But that was what you needed from him.

Still grinding on his twitching cock, you leaned forward to run your tongue along his collarbone. “Have you ever fucked anyone raw, Min?” You giggled as his head shot up and his eyes bulged out of his head.

“W-what?! No!” You bit your lip and closed your eyes momentarily, appreciating the drag of his tip against your throbbing clit.

When you opened your eyes again, he looked almost like he was in pain. “Well… I assume you’re clean… and I know I’m clean… and on birth control… and I’m used to not needing…” You looked away blushing and his dick twitched beneath you.

“Holy mother of god…” He slightly sat up and grabbed your face to smash your lips together, using his tongue to explore the entirety of your mouth before pulling back to search your eyes. “Are you absolutely sure, kitten?” He sounded distraught and your vision was hazed over with lust as you continued to grind on him.

“Of course, you might be a piece of shit, but I trust you…” You briefly moved your smirking mouth to nibble at his ear and whispered sensually into it. “I like the feeling of being filled up. The feeling of cum hitting my walls and spilling out slowly is my number one weakness.” He whispered dozens of expletives in response and squeezed you infinitesimally closer by your ass.

“Just a fair warning…” He growled against your neck as he lifted your hips. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last if I go in raw…” You giggled and reached in between your flush chests to grab his painfully hard erection to position him at your entrance and his breath shuddered as he rested his head against your shoulder.

Both of you emitted loud, pornographic moans as you sank down on him and you relished in the thought of your ass being bruised in the shape of his fingerprints. You had to wait and adjust to his size once more and you didn’t think you would ever be able to get over how amazing he felt. You were trembling, he was sweating, and both of you had moved to lazily entangle tongues.

When you made a move to start grinding, he gripped your hips again. “J-just a little bit longer… you have no idea how amazing you feel.” You don’t know why, but you felt a fluttering in your stomach and, in fear of what it might mean, you willed it away. Instead, you replaced it with mischievousness. 

You began a slow journey with your tongue dragging down his jaw, neck, and clavicle just to find your destination on his strong pec. You lazily kissed and sucked all around it and when you closed your mouth around his nipple, you squeezed your pussy tight around him just before you felt a jolt beneath you.

“Fuck!” He grunted and his fingers dug into your hips further, producing a pain that you would have never realized would be a turn-on. You could feel his glare burn into you where you were latched onto his pec and you hummed against him, repeating the action as you flicked your tongue. “Motherfu–”

He cut off his swear short when you felt yourself being lifted off of him and thrown onto your back in the soft bedding. You gasped and he growled as he sunk back inside you, this time not relenting as he crushed your cervix.

“You’re a fucking brat.” He snarled against where his mouth was devouring your neck. “You asked for this, kitten…” He left the skin of your neck chilled with his saliva as he pulled back and poised himself up on his knees. You were thrumming with need as you watched him grab your ankles and throw your legs over his shoulders, hefting your hips up with his strong arms and nailing you directly in your sweet spot.

The breath was knocked clear out of you.

Your eyebrows scrunched, your jaw slackened, and your whole body went taut with the overwhelming feeling of just him. He was all you could feel, see, smell, taste, and hear as he continued to relentlessly pound into you. Minho. Minho. Minho!

He folded you in half when he kneeled down to lick your lips open and you let him in willingly. It wasn’t long before your lips forgot to move against his as you released small “ah– ah– ah” ‘s with every thrust, all the while he was lapping up the saliva that pooled at the edges of your mouth. He barely had to even graze his thumb over your clit before you came with a cry of his name on your lips.

You were still riding your high when you ran a hand through his sweaty hair. You could see the restraint in his features. “Cum in me Minho, please.” His head dropped down to your breast with a moan and a few breathless expletives before you felt him empty himself inside you, a feral grunt seeping out of his clenched teeth that had bitten down on the swell of your breast.

You gasped at the delicious feeling and threw your head back, baring your neck to him and prompting him to glide his tongue up the length of it.

Once he pumped out every last drop and his tongue had finished properly tasting the entirety of your neck, he flopped over on his side next to you. The air almost seemed to be laden with steam and arousal and all of your exhaustion from the night before, that day, and the mind blowing sex came crashing down on you like a tsunami.

The last dregs of your consciousness were consumed with Minho cleaning you, changing you, and hydrating you before you passed out beneath the sheets that smelt like the concentrated scent of just Minho…

________________________________________

Hannie🐹:

Hey beautiful

Princess👑:

Well hello Jisungie

To what do I owe this rare attempt of social interaction?

Hannie🐹:

Oh shush, u haven’t tried to reach out either!

Princess👑:

True, but the question still stands

Hannie🐹:

Ur coming to Chan’s party tonight right?

You tried to bury the sting that the question presented, but it still hit a sore spot to know that even that one random chick Minho was talking to knew before you did. You gulped back the lump in your throat.

Princess👑:

I didn’t think I was invited

Hannie🐹:

What? Why wouldn’t u be?

Princess👑:

Well the fact that I had to hear about it from someone else was a big indicator

You cringed after you sent the message, realizing the salt that was poured all over that sentence.

Hannie🐹:

What?!?!

Princess👑:

It really is fine Hannie

No one expects you guys to include me just because I’m ur friend’s little sister

When he didn’t respond, you assumed he had just dropped the issue, deciding that you weren’t worth the trouble. However, as you were walking out of your last class of the day, your phone lit up in your hand with the caller ID indicating that your conversation was far from over.

“Hannie?” You raised the phone to your ear as you walked down the campus sidewalk.

“Pardon my manners, princess, but you’re a goddamned idiot if you think you’re only ‘his little sister’ to us.” You balked at his words. “For starters, you are our friend just as much as he is.” You felt your steps slow with each word from his mouth. “Secondly, the only reason you didn’t hear about it sooner is because Hwang Hyunjin is a complete pabo. He was in charge of telling you, like, a century ago and apparently he forgot to tell not only you, but a whole bunch of other people.”

Was that really true? Or was he just trying to make excuses?

“Either way, Chan definitely wants you there and I know for a fact that I want you there.”

“Ji, really, it’s fi–”

“Please?” You could practically already see the cute pout on his face and you habitually smiled.

After a long sigh and some deliberation, you caved. “Okay, fine. Send me the time and address.”

The next what felt like a whole thirty seconds was filled with the adorable sound of Jisung’s triumphant self-appreciation as he sent you the information. You couldn’t hold back the giggles of endearment for the man and the call ended with a smile on your face.

“Ooooh, who was that? If the smile on your face is anything to go by, its a boooy~” You heard your best friend’s chipper voice ring from where she sauntered up beside you, scaring you half to death.

You jumped and held your hand to your heart as she giggled at you. “My god, Tiff! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” She grabbed your hand that was pressed to your chest and swung your intertwined hands as she walked with you to the bus stop.

“Sooo, who was it?”

“Just Jisung.” You shrugged as the two of you sat on the bench to wait.

“Oh my gosh!” Tiffany gasped and clutched your arm, earning a raised brow from you. “Did he tell you about Chan’s party?! Are you going?!”

OF FUCKING COURSE she knew before you. You had to take a deep breath to maintain your composure and not blow the fuck up. “Yeah, are you?”

“Um, of course?!” She said as if you were crazy to even ask. “Do you think Minho will be there?”

Her question threw you for a loop and your mind was immediately brought back to earlier that morning when you snuck out of his apartment before he woke up. You definitely didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness of being kicked out so you went ahead and took it upon yourself to initiate the task.

You sucked your teeth in and stood up, watching as the bus slowly approached. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

She flashed you a mischievous grin and swiftly turned to take a seat in the back. When you joined her, she swiveled in her seat to face you. “I want you to help me hook up with him.”

You felt like you had just been punched in the gut. “WHAT?!” You startled at your own raised voice and shyly bowed your head in apology to the few surrounding onlookers. You looked back to your friend and you really hoped your face didn’t betray your panic.

Why, of all people, did she want to start pursuing your Minho? No. No, he’s not yours. He’s just a friend. Was he even considered a friend? Shit, the lines were blurring.

“What? I totally know he’s into me and I might have a better shot tonight if you talk me up.” Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice your inner turmoil.

Wait.

What did she say?

“How do you know he’s into you?”

She rolled her eyes with a cheeky smile. “He saved my number, love. He texted me today and asked if we were going to the party. A guy doesn’t save a girl’s number unless he’s for sure into them. Especially if the girl has been very obviously flirting with them and is not just a buddy-buddy relationship.”

You felt like you had just been bitch slapped and you sensed an indescribable feeling rise in your throat, prompting you to force yourself to swallow it back. Why was he texting your best friend? “H-how do you know he’s not already taken?” You knew he wasn’t, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of him being with your best friend.

“Again, he saved my number.” She actually seemed somewhat annoyed now. “What’s the big deal? Are you going to help me or not?”

Your throat was completely dry and you felt the heat pumping through your veins. “You can have so many guys, Tiff. Why Minho, exactly?” You grimaced as she crossed her arms and glared at you.

“Oh my fucking god. What is your DEAL? Is it just because you hate the man?! Get over yourself, sweetheart. He’s a grown man and I’m a grown woman and there is clearly a mutual attraction so I’m not going to let your pettiness get in the way of my fun. If it really bothers you, then forget I asked. I can win him over by myself anyway.” She sneered as she turned her attention to the window and thus ended the conversation.

You felt tears prick at your eyes and you didn’t quite know where you were, but you pressed the button to be let out of the bus anyway. Why? Just why did it have to be her to steal him? No, not steal… He’s not yours…

He’s NOT yours…

When you stepped out, you took a large gulp of fresh air and willed the tears away. You refused to let her demean you. You refused to let her ruin your fun tonight. You refused to let her win. The fucking bitch needs to be knocked down a few notches and learn that she can’t just earn everything by spreading her legs. Well, that is if Minho didn’t take her bait…

________________________________________

Tiff💞:

Hey babe

Can we just forget about earlier?

I’ll see you tonight kay?

😘

Not even an apology or anything. What a bitch. You probably looked like you had murder on your mind as you looked down at your phone and back up at Chan’s frat house. You took a deep breath to will the fury from your soul and smoothed your hands over your clothes, only slightly self-conscious of the dainty material you had recently purchased. 

For no particular reason whatsoever, you had recently decided to go shopping for a few outfits of the, um… more mature variety. Not to impress anyone in particular… Definitely not to gain the attention of a certain someone… You just wanted to broaden your wardrobe. That’s it. No other reason…

You still wore your regular combat boots because there was no overcoming your ability to break your ankles in heels, but the rest of the outfit was definitely new to you. (Plus, the black boots kind of looked cute with the rest of the outfit.)

Your sheer black tights were silky smooth up your legs to be met with a short (almost too short) high-waisted solid black mini skirt. The real kicker was your top. It was a jet-black eyelash-lace corset/cami top that rose well above your navel and you were almost too chicken to wear it due to it looking practically like lingerie. But the issues with Tiffany and Minho made you uncharacteristically bold that night. You decided to wear a form-fitting leather jacket (also black of course), but it still left most of your top visible.

You, once again, willed your breathing to steady as you walked up the steps and opened the front door.

The party was in full swing as you warily made your way through the party goers. It was almost impossible to focus due to the crowd, the noise, the heavy air, and the dim lighting (minus the flashing and colored lights that lit up most of the open area of dancers).

Is this the norm for college parties?

You didn’t even know where you were going, you just knew there was one person you were subconsciously searching fo–

…Minho…

You halted in your tracks and you watched in horror as you saw that your best friend had found the man first.

Bile rose in your throat as you watched Minho hand her a drink with a smile and she clung onto his arm like a fucking leach. Hyunjin and Changbin were with them, but Tiffany only seemed interested in running her hands over Minho’s muscular arm and talking in his ear, entirely too close to him with her filthy lips.

You were sure you were gonna be sick.

You saw Minho’s eye wander about the room as Tiffany took a breath long enough to take a drink, and you panicked when his gaze snapped to yours. Before you could even acknowledge either of your’s reactions, you beelined it to the kitchen with all the alcohol that you had passed earlier and shoved your way through the crowd to hastily find the room and make your drink. A strong drink.

You had just finished stirring it when you felt a gentle hand on your elbow. You whipped your head around to be faced with the bane of your existence. He was so damned beautiful you wanted to just punch him square in the face. The top half of the buttons on his black button-up were undone to show off the low neckline of his white undershirt, causing your eyes to want to wander down to his perfectly defined chest that was adorned with a single silver pendulum necklace and a beaded choker that would look feminine on anyone but him. His blonde hair was styled back out of his face and it accentuated his beautiful, dark round eyes.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you–” Before he could finish his sentence, he must have noticed your ensemble due to the fact that his eyes were bugged out and were blatantly gazing down at your clothes. “Oh fuck…” He whispered so low you almost didn’t catch it. When he cleared his throat and came back to the land of the living, his cheeks were pink when he said, “You look so fucking gorgeous…” Your exhale was shaky and you could almost get drunk off of his handsome grin alone. You hated it.

It took you a moment to rip your eyes from him, but when you did, you decided it was necessary for you to chug your drink for dear life.

“Woah, woah! The night’s only started!” When he made a move to still your cup, you pulled it away from him with a glower.

“For me maybe, but who knows how long you and ‘little miss man eater’ over there have been exchanging verbal foreplay.” Minho’s eyes widened comically and turned back to look at Tiffany who was glaring daggers at you both.

“I’m sorry, verbal what???” He asked incredulously as he turned back to you. You heard me dickwad. However, instead of voicing your thoughts, you just huffed out a disbelieving half-chuckle and turned back to refill your drink.

This definitely needs to be twice as strong.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me…” You rolled your eyes, already knowing where this was headed. “Kitten, are you jealous?” You turned back around to be met with a shit-eating grin and you were about two seconds away from kicking him where the sun doesn’t shine until you suddenly found the other five men you were here for huddled by a wall talking amongst themselves away from your so-called bestie.

You just clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes, walking away without a word and marching over to the group.

Jisung saw you first, a huge smile lighting up the entire room until it was instantly erased with an expression that looked like he suddenly shat out a brick. At first, you were concerned, that was until the other four followed his gaze and had the same series of reactions. It was only when you got closer that you saw all of them ogling your outfit and you found yourself wanting to shrink into yourself at the attention.

“H-Hey guys!” You said with a wary smile as you stopped in front of the semi-circle they made at your arrival. It was only from your words that their trances were broken and they all looked back up to your face with blushing faces before not-so-subtly avoiding your eyes. You felt embarrassment wash over you like a bucket of ice and you wrapped your arms around yourself as you averted your eyes down to make yourself look small. “I… I’m sorry… did I overdo the outfit? I haven’t really ever been to one of these parties. Heh…”

You nervously chuckled and rubbed the cold sweat off the back of your neck with one hand while the other was still firmly wrapped around your torso. “No!” You heard multiple panicked voices say in tandem before the sound of clearing throats.

Felix, the angel, smiled sweetly at you and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. “Of course not, sweetie. You look beautiful.” He stepped back as the rest agreed and Jisung stole the next hug.

“More like a fucking goddess!” You felt your feet lift off the ground as he squeezed your waist and your cheeks flooded with heat when he pressed his soft lips to your cheek before retreating.

After the rest greeted you similarly, Chris stepped to the side to reveal a tray of shots on the small table behind him. “Now that the whole group is finally here, we can finally start the real fun!” You’re part of their group? Everyone grabbed one of the seven shot glasses before Chris handed yours directly to you with a whisper in your ear. “Don’t take anything from anyone unless they’re one of the six of us, yeah?” The hot breath you felt against you made you shiver, but you nodded regardless.

“Yah! Get out of her ear, perv!” Minho shouted from behind him as he held his own shot. Chris stepped back to look at him with raised brows, but you intervened first.

“Oh calm down, Minho. We’re all adults here.” Changing your threatening tone to a lighter one, you raised your glass. “To Chris’ last year! We’ll miss you Channie!” And you, in the slightly petty and tipsy mood, planted a kiss right on Chris’ cheek, startling the blushing man in the process. Tension set aside, everyone raised their glasses to dink ‘em and sink ‘em. Minho only downing his after he was finished glowering at your smug face.

You caught up with them for a little bit, but with every passing minute, you felt the drinks start to hit you. And, as per usual, when you drank, you got very… touchy-feely. Your first victim was Felix, but that was because the man was always ready for cuddles. After that, you had stolen Jisung from Minho, who was possessed with about the same amount of drunken clinginess, the latter having Jisung previously wrapped around him as the elder had his own arm thrown over his shoulder. However, Jisung was happy to switch to wrapping his arms around your semi-bare waist instead when you beckoned him.

It was just as Changbin was giving a very detailed speech to Hyunjin about the importance of cardio when you glanced over at Minho. Your eyes widened when you took in the absolutely livid expression he had directed at Jisung and Felix before a wry smile grew on your lips.

A plan formed in your head. A wicked, evil little plan to give Minho a taste of his own medicine. However, before you could execute it, the she-devil showed up and found purchase around Minho’s arm again.

“There you are! I thought you said you’d be right back!” She said with what was supposed to be a cute pout, but all you saw was the manipulative sneer hidden in her eyes as she glanced at you. Minho looked at her with wide eyes and then back at you with what looked like anxiety.

“Wha– I– Um…” As he was babbling in his loss for words, you pulled away from the boys surrounding you and turned around to face them with a dubious grin that didn’t reach your eyes.

With your back facing Minho, you downed your drink and rid yourself of your jacket, letting the refreshing air conditioning soothe your previously confined arms. When you placed your empty cup and jacket on the small table behind them, you extended your hands out to the men. “C’mon, who’s going to show a girl a good time tonight and dance with me?”

You eyed Chris who was already gulping down his own drink, the man staring at all the bare skin you had on display all the while, and setting his empty cup next to your own. You smiled up at him as he took one of your hands and you watched Jisung’s eyes flick over to Minho before grabbing your other one. Your smile brightened further and you hugged them both by the neck giddily before dragging them over to the makeshift dancefloor.

You could feel several pairs of eyes watch as the three of you retreated and you couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug with the thought of Minho and Tiffany being a couple of them.

You felt the alcohol wash away your anger and jealousy and let the upbeat music pump through your veins as you danced between the two men. At first, it was very PG, but the density of the crowd thickened and soon enough Chris was up against your backside while Jisung was against the front. The more hyped you got from the heavy air, loud beats, and strong drinks, the more bold your dancing became.

You had one arm thrown around Jisung’s neck and the other thrown around the back of Chris’ head from behind as you began grinding against the pair. They must have been equally as plastered because their roaming hands were definitely encouraging you. Jisung’s hands roved over your waist and abdomen as Chris’ paved their way up and down your hips and thighs.

All of you were sticky with sweat and the feeling of Chris’ breath on your neck and Jisung’s lustful eyes watching your body move was making you even hotter. Even though you were super insecure at the beginning of the night, you now felt bold and sexy and wanted. You felt a sliver of pride that you were still able to make men covet you even if… others didn’t.

After a while, you felt that same hot breath from behind you talk into your ear again. “I’m gonna tap out for a bit gorgeous.” Chris said before he kissed your cheek and weaved his way through grinding bodies to head back over to the group.

You returned your eyes to your remaining dance partner who met your gaze with hooded lids. You allowed yourself to be pulled flush against him, but you turned so your back was up against him now as you grinded and rolled against his firm body. Your whole mind was clouded and all you knew was how good the body against you felt.

With the man out of your line of vision, you closed your eyes and let yourself be consumed in the moment. Your hands reached back and threaded through his silky hair and you felt the fingers that trailed down your hips tickle the spot where your outer thighs met your skirt.

You gasped when you felt his hard cock push into your lower back and he squeezed you tighter when you rolled back into it. Gosh, Minho, you feel so good.

But why did Minho’s fingers feel longer when you went to grab them?

Your internal question was already forgotten when you felt his warm lips touch down on the soft curve of your neck and the next thing you knew, you were dragging him to the nearest secluded area to taste those lips that you always seemed to crave now. The lips that made you cum a hundred different ways by now.

Turns out the nearest secluded spot was a door that led out to a small side patio that was somehow completely deserted. Without much thought, you whipped back around with blurry vision as you pressed your lips to his. Well… tried to at least. It took a couple tries to hit your target, but when they did, you groaned and instantly tangled tongues with him. But…

Why does this seem so foreign? Does it just feel different because you were drunk? And had Minho been wearing a t-shirt this whole time?

When you allowed your hands to roam up under his shirt, the lustful groan the man emitted had your eyes flying open. That is definitely NOT Minho’s voice.

“Ji-Jisung?” He fluttered his eyes open when you sprang off of him, stumbling back like a fucking hooch monkey, and he gave you a confused blink.

“Wha– Huh? What’s wrong, princess?” He stumbled a bit as he picked himself off the wall you had pressed him against and you covered your mouth in mortification. You could only widen your watery eyes and shake your head in disbelief as you watched him look more and more concerned. It wasn’t until he grabbed your face to wipe your tears that you realized you started crying. “Oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?!”

He sat you down on a patio chair to squat in front of you and rubbed soothing circles on your knee as you buried your face in your hands. “Nononononono!” Your turmoil was muffled behind your hands and you started sobbing as you looked back up at Jisung. “I-I’m s-so sorry J-Ji–” 

He was frantically searching your eyes and he ran his palms up and down your arms. “What in the world for?” Confusion was tattooed across his face and you felt even more ashamed that you would have to explain.

“I…” You tried to gulp down breaths to explain between sobs and slurred speech. “I d-din’know it was you who…” Another round of tears cascaded as you saw a distraught realization wash over him. You felt awful for using your friend so horrendously. You couldn’t believe how selfish you were just because you didn’t want to share…

Minho…

Minho must have gone home with Tiffany. Why wouldn’t he, right? She was beautiful and sexy and you were a completely sloshed jackass. He probably never wanted to see you ever again after one night with that dick-whipped cunt of a woman.

You felt your whole body start shaking as another round of sobs wracked your body and Jisung quickly wrapped you in his arms. “Shh shh, it’s okay. You haven’t done anything wrong, sweetie. It’ll be okay…” His calm and reassuring voice made you squeeze onto your friend for dear life.

“I-I’m s-so s–” He just continued his gentle hushing to get you to calm down and he helped you focus on your breathing. Tears still flowing down your face but sobs having died down, you sat back to look at him. “Ji…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’re both drunk, it happens.” He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel like you weren’t an absolute piece of shit.

“Ji, I…” Your words had zero filter as they supplied a watery– “I-I think ’m in love w'Minho.”

His eyes widened. You expected him to freak out. To call you a whore or spit on you. What you didn’t see coming was the slow smile that crept across his cute cheeks. “Minho-hyung?” You nodded with a sniff and he instantly wrapped you in a hug again. His voice was muffled against your hair a bit, but he replied tenderly. “I can think of no person more deserving of your love than him.”

What on god’s green earth did he mean by that?

He sighed and pulled back again, wiping away more tears. “Have you thought about telling him that?” The question had your mind reeling and you felt sick of just the thought of it.

Wait. Maybe it’s not the idea that made you sick. Maybe it was…

In the blink of an eye, you threw yourself off the chair and leaned over the railing, immediately hurling your guts all over the manicured lawn below. As the snot, tears, and vomit evacuated your body, you felt Jisung’s cool hands pull your hair out of the way and rub soothing circles on your back. This man is just too good for this world…

You felt like you spent years over that railing, somehow more still coming out, until you heard the door to the house open and close. “What happened?” Was that Minho’s voice? Why is he still here?

You lifted your head to look back at him, not even considering the fact that you probably (most definitely) looked like a trainwreck on steroids. “W-why’re you he–” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before you were ralphing again.

“Evidently, she’d mistaken me for you, do you have that water I asked for?”

“Yeah.” When did he even ask Minho to come out here?

“Here, kitten. Drink this.” He held up a bottle of water next to you and you eagerly grabbed it. “Don’t chug.” He said holding it out of reach before he gave it to you. “You’ll make yourself even more sick.” You sat down again and slowly nursed on the water as your eyes stayed glued to the piece of artwork that was Lee Minho.

You watched his beautiful lips move as he faced Jisung, but you didn’t hear any of the words that were exchanged. All you could hear was the thrumming of blood through your veins in your ears and the bass of the music from inside. Also when you heard the beautiful melody of Minho’s laugh… MY. GOD. The man was just too perfect…

Your vision slowly faded as you stared at his pretty eyes and you just wished you could dive into the two black pools of his irises. The darkness that was slowly encompassing your vision was thwarted when you felt yourself being buckled into the back of an Uber by Minho as he slid in next to you and gave the driver his address.

Before you could think about what you were about to say, you chuckled. “Y’mean Tiff in’t ‘lready spread-eagle on yer bed?”

You expected him to get annoyed, but he just side-eyed you with an amused smirk. “You’ve got it pretty bad, huh?”

“Well excuse me for having experience with a man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for other college girls.” Well, that was surprisingly well-enunciated… However, before you could pat yourself on the back for that small victory, you were having a hard time keeping your eyes open and you raised your hand to take a drink, only to find your hand bottleless. Who the fuck drank all my water?

The look he gave you was melancholy and he gently pat your knee before responding. “Don’t worry, kitten. Tiffany isn’t at my place. And I doubt your parents would be thrilled to be woken up so late by hearing you stumble in the house at two in the morning. Hence my reasoning for us staying at my place. Is that alright?”

You didn’t even register your dumb nod as you zoned out on his beautiful face. His features were so breathtaking that your hand moved unbidden and you found yourself tracing the sharp contours with your shaky fingers. He didn’t move a muscle as your fingers ghosted over his nose, eyelids, jaw, and then finally the plump outline of his lips.

“Y-yer so b’tiful Min…” His eyes burned with a familiar fire and he gently lowered your hand when the car pulled up to his place.

________________________________________

Minho😈:

Where did u go?

Kitten?

R u at least safe?

Please talk to me

I called ur parents and they said ur alright

I’m sorry if I hurt u in any way

I would never intentionally do anything to harm u

U mean so much to me…

Just… let me know when ur ready to talk…

You scanned the texts that had been flooding in all day after you snuck out of his place without a word at the crack of dawn. Made easier due to the fact that he was courteous enough to sleep on the couch due to your inebriated state. You remembered everything. Everything. Including your agonizing realization of your feelings for the man. 

Your phone clattered to the ground when you chucked it and turned over in your bed to bury your face in your pillow. Luckily, you didn’t ever really get hangovers, but that didn’t mean you weren’t entitled to a day to wallow in self-pity. So this is where you’ve been all day, the night quickly approaching as you squeezed your pillow tighter.

You weren’t worthy of his attention. You were just a convenient pussy. Tiffany is way more experienced and probably showed him some of that expertise last night. If your last boyfriend couldn’t even be satisfied with you, who else would? You were a shit friend who used Jisung, one of your best friends, as a tool. You were worse than nothing. You were a disease.

You felt yourself drowning in a sinkhole of your thoughts before a knock at your bedroom door pulled you out of it. You kept your face buried as the door opened and heard your mom’s sweet voice. “Honey?”

You just responded with a non-commital grunt.

“Minho called again…” Silence. “Honey, I know you two were never on the best of terms, but he’s trying so so hard to mend that since your brother left. I don’t know what happened between you two, but I just know he sounded genuinely upset.” You felt the tears well up in your eyes and kept your head firmly planted in ur pillow, slowly suffocating yourself.

You felt a dip next to you in the bed and the gentle hand of your mother rubbing your back. 

She was silent for a moment before she sighed. “I never told you this, just because he asked me not to, but I think it might be necessary now…” That caught your attention just enough to twist your head to look at her loving smile. “When you and your boyfriend broke up, Minho called me every single day for a week to check and see if you were alright. He was the one who bought your favorite snacks every day, not your dad.”

You furrowed your brows and sat up next to her. “W-why didn’t he want you to tell me?”

She gave you a soft smile and patted your knee before she stood up. “That’s something you’re going to have to ask him yourself.” She turned back to you when she reached the door. “Your father and I are going to an office party tonight and won’t be back until late. Really late.” She raised her brow, hinting at a suggestion. “Call us if you need anything. I love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too, Mom…” You mumbled as she left the room.

When the door shut behind her, you pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in your hands. How could this happen? You’ve disliked this man ever since high school, it just doesn’t make any sense to start falling in love now. I mean, his dick is magic, sure. But you’ve been craving to just see him any time of day just to simply be around him! He’s probably sick of your mixed signals and mood swings.

It had taken you by surprise when you woke up an hour later to the sound of the doorbell, not even realizing you had fallen asleep in the first place. Your parents had probably already left when you were sleeping, so you scrambled up out of your bed and went to answer the door.

When you opened the door, your heart stopped. No other man on the planet could sport a bare face, discheveled hair, and sweatpants and still look like a fucking god like Minho did. You had only started to realize just how gorgeous he was when he hit his senior year of high school. It had pissed you off at the time, but now… well, actually no, it still pissed you off. It just wasn’t fair to have such power over you with that piercing gaze and ability to make hearts stop at the sight of him.

“Minho…” You whispered as your eyes widened. He stood in the doorway and scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t want to let myself in because… because I didn’t know if you wanted to see me or not…” I always want to see you. You cursed your own thoughts for being so weak for the man. Without a word, you stepped to the side to let him in. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced, kitten. But I just had to make sure you were alright.” He mumbled as he looked down to step out of his shoes. “Or upset with me…”

Boots unexpectedly ran up to Minho with a cute little meow as she rubbed her face and beautiful black fur against his legs with quiet purring. You both smiled down at the adorable feline and Minho bent down to scoop her up in his arms, knowing how much she loved to be held (unlike other cats) by people she trusted. You felt a fluttering in your chest just watching him hold her. Knowing that, just like your precious boots, you had also come to care for the man. 

You raised your hand to pet Boots, but your eyes were fixed on Minho’s. “I’m not upset with you Minho… If you want someone else, it’s not my place to get in between that.” You turned to head back to your room, but as you approached your bedroom door, a gentle hand loosely wrapped itself around your wrist and stopped you in your tracks.

You warily turned around and Minho’s expression was a mixture of anger and hurt. “If you think, even for a second, that I prefer her over you, you’re more stupid than I thought.” He said the words with a lethal calm that made shivers run down your spine. Your face was incredulous, but he ignored it. “The idea that I would prefer anyone over you is almost an insult.” You allowed him to pull your body closer to his as he now had his hands wrapped around your waist. “I think of you every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. I’ve been hating myself ever since we started this whole arrangement because I feel like I’m just taking advantage of you, which was not my intent at all. But I didn’t want to stop it either because I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose what we have… I don’t want to lose you…”

You closed your eyes from the burning you felt pricking at your tear ducts and involuntarily leaned into his touch when the backs of his fingers gently brushed over the flushed skin of your cheek.

“You’re so, so beautiful, kitten. Inside and out.” It was unlike Minho to get so sentimental, but he seemed to feel the need to speak his piece. Even if it caused a dusting of pink blooming on his ears and cheeks. However, your blush felt like it rivaled his as it radiated all throughout your body.

Your hands, which had been curled up against his chest, started fidgeting as you looked down at them. You didn’t know if you should ask him or not, but you decided you needed to know. “Minho… why… why did you call my mom to check up on me after my breakup?”

He stiffened momentarily, but quickly recovered. You looked back up at his face and it was turned to the side, completely crimson. “I…” His lips formed a tight line and then relaxed as he turned back to look at you. “I couldn’t stand the thought of what that prick did to you. I wanted to go beat the living shit out of him, crush his nuts, curb stomp him, anything, but I realized that you would most likely prefer comfort over violence. But I knew that one of the last people you would want to see would be me, so I tried to help from the sidelines.”

Your lip wobbled slightly and you pressed yourself a bit closer to him. You were mad that you couldn’t even disagree with him because, at that point in time, you would’ve dreaded the idea of this man, usually void of sentimentality, coming to attempt to comfort you.

The only real comfort you had was Tiffany and, looking back on it, she was pretty shit at it. Now that you’ve realized what a bitch she was, you could recount several occasions where she was just a toxic friend. And you were blind to the situation in favor of seeing the truth.

“So…” You were almost too afraid to ask the question you didn’t know you wanted an answer to or not. His hand that had been stroking your cheek moved to lift your chin up to look at him. His eyes portrayed patience and attentiveness to your words. “Did… did anything happen between you and Tiff?”

The corners of his lips turned down as he furrowed his brow, but it soon morphed into an expression that screamed ‘really?’. He sighed. “Like I said, I only prefer you. I have not and will not ever see her or want her that way.” His eyes flickered from your eyes to the floor in anxiousness and added with an adorably shy mumble. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Relief washed over you like a tidal wave and your body moved on its own when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and ran your fingers through his sandy hair, pressing your lips to his with a tenderness that you had not shared with him before now. You could feel relief flooding him as well as he relaxed under your touch, as if kissing you released all tension in his body.

This kiss wasn’t like the hungry and ravenous ones you two had always shared. This one felt as if you could melt into each other and become one. It was slow, sensual, and filled with all the love you could possibly portray. As you paused the kiss and pressed foreheads together, you closed your eyes as if to pretend you weren’t about to say the words just begging to leap off your tongue.

“Minho… you still annoy the shit out of me, but…” He offered a wry smile against your lips and you opened your eyes and disconnected foreheads to watch him raise his brow with a smirk. You bit back your smile and hid your face in his neck. “...I think I might be in love with you?” You said it like it was a question, almost too quiet to hear, as if you weren’t quite sure if you should’ve said it.

He was silent and you were apprehensive to raise your head. But, when you finally looked at him, you proceeded to witness the most beautiful smile you had ever seen appear on his face. You tried to suppress your suddenly bashful smile, but he only squeezed you tighter. He bit his lip to do the same with his own grin, but he morphed his look to something more mischievous. “Are you sure you don’t just like me for my incredible skills in providing mind blowing orgasms?”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a light smack on his pec. “Ah yes, you’re right! How have I been so blind? I’m only in love with your dick.” He just chuckled at your words dripping with sarcasm and stole a kiss, slow and controlled before he murmured against your lips.

“I love you too, kitten. I have for quite a while now.” Your eyes widened and you could have sworn you saw a bit of fear in his eyes before he was biting his lip again, a smile hidden just beneath the surface.

“W-wha–? How long?!” You pulled back slightly to see his full face and he giggled bashfully. Lee Minho being bashful? He was always so confident and controlled that you almost wanted to capture this moment on camera.

“Well… honestly, it’s been ever since you started dating that douchebag. I didn’t really know why I started to be such an obnoxious dick to you, but I later realized it was just because I was jealous.” He pulled you close once again and tentatively kissed your jaw.

Your heart was racing at the thought of him being in love with you even if you were with another man, yet not interfering directly. But now you finally had him, and you were determined to keep it that way. You squeezed yourself infinitesimally closer to him and kissed his lips slowly before saying, “Well, now I’m yours.” Your lips drifted to whisper in his ear. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

You made your point very clear when you grazed your lips and teeth down the side of his neck while pushing your pelvis into his. “Fuck…” He let out a low groan and slid his hands down to the lower cleft of your ass and gave your cheeks a light squeeze. He captured your lips with a sudden ferocity that made you tremble. Once he led you backwards into your room and pressed your body against the door as he closed it, your passion increased tenfold.

He ground his thigh against the apex of your glistening cunt, your panties dragging along your clit, and the pressure had you gasping against his tongue. Your hips couldn’t help but to roll against him and you could feel the effect of your efforts when he pressed his groin into your hip. You whined in pleasure when he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hip, pushing even closer to you and making it easier to drag the length of your sopping crotch down him.

His other hand, which had still been kneading your ass, moved around to slip up under your shirt to feel the skin of your waist and lower back. You emitted a gasp and then a moan when you felt his warm fingers crawl up under your bra and fondle your erect nipple. You bit your lip to hold back an embarrassing noise you felt crawling to the surface when his lips latched onto your collarbone and started leaving sweet kisses up the length of your neck.

Your fingertips ran up under his shirt to caress his abs and pecs and he took it upon himself to take his shirt off, quickly ridding you of yours shortly after, lips barely leaving each other as you stripped each other completely bare and you pushed him down on the bed to straddle him.

“Shit kitten… you’re unreal…” He stared up at you as if you had hung the moon and he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs gently, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. You leaned down and began marking up his beautiful chest, but he cupped your cheeks and brought your lips up to his own, placing his hands on your thighs once more. “Can I taste you baby? Make you feel good?” With each word, his hands drifted up to your dripping pussy until his fingers were teasing your entrance.

When he finally plunged a single digit in up to the first knuckle, you found yourself choking on a gasp and nodding frantically. He moved with a speed that made you dizzy when he flipped you onto your back and knelt between your legs.

He stared at your cunt with a hunger that made you shy, but you held back the urge to close your legs in self consciousness. When he looked back up at you and hovered his mouth over where you were aching for him most, he made eye contact as he licked a fat strip up the entirety of your crotch, making sure not to neglect your clit as he sucked it into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the swollen bud.

You threw your head back and moaned like a brainless whore as your hands gravitated to his beautiful blonde mane. However, your head wasn’t down long as you were determined to watch this adonis of a man feast on you. And when he inserted a finger inside you, you were done for. He held your hips down with bruising strength as you writhed beneath him and added a second finger.

You were reduced to a whimpering mess as the man fucked you with his fingers slowly, wanting to gradually build your pleasure. “Minho!” You whined in both gratitude and frustration. He smiled as he briefly pulled his mouth away.

“You gonna melt on my mouth, kitten?” You were beyond words and could only nod your head to communicate. “Say it again…” He breathed against you, making you tingle from the hot air coming from between his lips.

You immediately knew what he meant and your heart swelled. “I love you, Minho.” You gasped and rolled your eyes back as he instantly crooked his finger up into your g-spot and returned his mouth to you. Only this time, his tongue joined as he quickly thrusted his fingers in you with precision. “Fuck I love you so much! Shit!” You screamed his name as you did, indeed, melt on his mouth.

He lapped up your orgasm as if he was famished for you and his mouth slowly sucked and nipped its way up your body to latch onto your neglected nipples. You whined, just wanting him to be inside you already as you wrapped your legs around him and hung on him like a koala, pressing your body to his as you suspended yourself in the air under his crouched position.

He chuckled and pressed you into the mattress again, his warm chest and pelvis pressing against you. You rutted into him until you couldn’t take it anymore and pushed him over until his back was pressed up against the headboard and straddled him once more. “Please fuck me, Minho. I need you to fill me up…” You whispered against his lips as one of your hands tangled in his hair and the other was frantically stroking his dick. To make your point, You knelt down to hover over his cock and let a string of saliva drip from your mouth down onto his throbbing head right before taking him in your mouth.

His thighs tensed under your palms and you closed your eyes in bliss as you listened to the beautiful sounds he was making because of your efforts. You swallowed down more of him and you felt a shaky hand push you back by your shoulder. “Shit, you’re too good at that…” He heaved and roughly grabbed your hips to bring you flush to him, slightly lifting you so he could impale you on his cock.

You clung onto him as you sunk down and squinted your watery eyes to get used to that familiar, delicious stretch. The breath was stolen from you and you felt like you could cum without even moving, your emotional mindset making it all the more intense.

It wasn’t long before you needed more and you gradually started bouncing on him, burying your face in his neck and latching onto his neck with your mouth to muffle your cries of pleasure. He guided your hips with his strong hands and you could tell he was holding himself back from just bending you over and annihilating your pussy into the mattress, but all you felt were his sweet kisses across your neck and shoulder and whispered words of how much he loves you and how beautiful you were.

You weren’t sure how long you two were going at it, lost in the sensation that was just purely Lee Minho, until you ground into him harder and cupped his cheeks with your hands. You tried portraying every ounce of your love for him with that one kiss and slowly picked up your hips, only to drop down on his cock with dizzying speed and force. His mouth went slack against yours and you watched as his eyebrows turned inwards in bliss.

You continued the action a few more times, fusing your body to his, until he took matters into his own hands. Before you knew it, you were on your back with the man thrusting into you with a force that made you scream out his name. 

His mouth, hands, and tongue were all over you and your nails dug into his back with the ever-increasing intensity of his thrusts. “M-Minho! ‘M’so close…” You whimpered and he growled into your shoulder.

“Cum on me, kitten. Soak me.”

A few more thrusts and you were done for. You cried out your ecstasy and he followed soon after, riding you through your orgasms.

He was still sheathed inside you when he plopped down on your body to catch his breath. You carded your fingers through his sweat-damp hair from where his face was pressed against your chest and you watched as his breaths gradually slowed.

When he was properly relaxed again, his cock soft inside you, he brought his face up to yours to litter kisses all over your skin, pulling a giggle from you. His smile was blinding when he pulled back to look down at you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“So, does this mean I can properly call you my girlfriend now? Or do you fall in love with all of your FWBs?” You smacked his arm and he giggled as he laced his fingers in yours with the hand you had just used to abuse him.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Ah, yes. You mean all of the many friends I fuck?” He smirked in response and you just sighed and relaxed into his touch. “No, there’s only room for one annoying asshole in my heart. So I suppose I can accept your proposition…” His smile was both equally parts amused and bashful as he squeezed his arms around you and buried his face in your neck to take in a deep breath of your scent.

“It’s about goddamn time…” He said after another long squeeze and you couldn’t control your sudden urge to smack his cute ass. You squealed out a giggle when he startled and quickly pinned your hands above your head. His eyes were mischievous right before he bent down to bite you on your shoulder, causing you to moan and his cock to jump inside you. His mouth drifted up your neck until he was whispering in your ear. “I hope that was worth it, because now you’re never getting out of this bed tonight.”

And he wasn’t bluffing if the awkward (but not unwelcome) limp in your step the next day had anything to say about it.

________________________________________

“You’re shitting us. You two?” Hyunjin looked positively floored the next day you and Minho had the group all together and told them the two of you were dating.

“How the fuck did this happen? I thought you hated Minho!” Changbin, equal disbelief in his tone. Minho scowled at him and Changbin held up his hands in a hasty defense.

You had vehemently apologized to Jisung the next time you saw him and told him you’d never forgive yourself for what happened. He just laughed it off and said he was happy for you, but you couldn’t help but notice a touch of sadness in his smile while the rest of the group freaked out. However, Chris seemed a bit sheepish himself as well.

You tried to focus on the smiling face of Felix instead. “Don’t get me wrong, he still properly annoys the everliving fuck out of me, but I guess he passes for a tolerable enough boyfriend.” You smiled teasingly at him and he scoffed at you with a suppressed smile.

“So what does the big bro think about this?”

You smiled wide and confident at Chris’ inquiry and casually answered. “We’re avoiding telling him like the plague.” 

Minho spoke up at this. “So I swear, if any of you motherfuckers breathe a word before we say so, you will end up having a very short lifespan.” The group chuckled nervously and you whacked his shoulder while he had the audacity to act all innocent like he hadn’t said anything wrong.

“Why do you gotta be such a pain in the ass, Min?” You casually repremanded him with little to no bite behind the question, instead chuckling at him.

“Well I guess their dynamic hasn’t changed at least.” Hyunjin scoffed.

Suddenly, the group’s attention drifted to something behind where you and Minho were standing and you turned around to see Tiffany strutting straight up to Minho, acting as if you, or any of the rest of the guys for that matter, didn’t exist. “Hey, Minho! I was wondering if you want to grab lunch with me? I have a coupon for that sandwich place down the road and I thought I could use the company.” She ran her hand down his arm and circled his fingers around his wrist.

What a brazen bitch.

He pulled his hand from her grasp and immediately wrapped his arm around your waist with an annoyed expression directed at her. “Uh, no thanks. I was gonna go get lunch with the guys and my new girlfriend, so I think I’ll pass.” You heard Changbin and Hyunjin snickering behind you and you couldn’t contain your smug smile as you watched the rage morph on her face when she eyed where you and Minho connected.

She scoffed and looked at you like you were a pathetic worm, making you slightly curl in on yourself. The way she could make people feel like trash was one of her best capabilities. “Are you kidding me?! You were really so fucking hungry for dick that you felt the need to prove something to me by taking him? That’s just sad, sweetheart.”

Minho took a step toward her, not actually planning on doing anything violent, only to intimidate her just enough to have the enirety of campus feel the need to give him a wide berth. You held him back anyway and she just scoffed at him.

She slightly leaned around to look at you past his towering form and sneered at you. “Fine, have it your way. I already got to fuck your last boy toy anyway, I don’t need this one too.” Your heart dropped and she gave a wicked smile before turning and, right as she started leaving, you heard a voice speak up from the group of boys behind you.

“Oh just go choke on another cock why don’t you, deep-dished bitch.” She whipped her head around with fury in her eyes before hastily stomping away. You and Minho looked back incredulously at Jisung and he just shrugged. You don’t think you had ever heard anything so malicious from his mouth and a wide smile broke out on your face before hugging him. He gave you a warm hug back and smoothed his hand up and down your spine. “No one talks to my soulmate’s girl that way.”

You smiled up at him and squeezed him once more before returning to Minho, wrapping yourself around him and trying to ignore the fact that your best friend had fucked your ex without you knowing. However, knowing how much the men around you cared about you, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a flying fuck.

Minho leaned over to quickly press a kiss to your head and squeeze you. “Do you…” You vehemently cut him off with a kiss pressed to his lips as you shook your head. He smiled down at you and then began guiding you. “C’mon, Changbin’s gonna pass out if we don’t feed him soon.”

“Yah!” Changbin yelled and Minho cackled right before his phone went off in his pocket.

To both of your surprises, it was your older brother and as soon as Minho answered, you were sure the whole campus could hear the screaming from his end of the receiver. “WHAT THE FUCK MINHO?! MY SISTER?! YOU’RE FUCKING MY BABY SISTER?! YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD, DUDE!”

The two of you looked at each other in terror and you looked over to see Tiffany with her phone out and an evil grin on her face moments before strutting away. That bitch used my brother against me?!?! You turned back to the rest of the guys that had their eyes fixed on the two of you and their horrified looks confirmed your suspicions that they had, in fact, heard your brother’s bellowing.

Well shit.

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