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atlabeth · 24 days ago

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unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended.

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.”

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.”

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.”

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.”

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.”

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply.

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend.

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it.

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him.

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.”

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said.

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.”

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said.

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut.

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on.

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that.

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly.

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did.

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word.

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice.

You needed to finish this essay immediately.

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you.

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair.

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.”

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor.

“Fiyero?”

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—”

“What are you doing here?” you repeated.

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.”

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.”

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?”

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.”

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.”

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.”

“That sounds about right, yes.”

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.”

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?”

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night.

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.”

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked.

“Five pages, but that—”

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted.

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this?

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity.

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?”

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.”

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?”��

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat.

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize.

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes.

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you.

“Yes?”

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.”

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.”

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.”

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.”

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.”

“I smile plenty,” you insisted.

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.”

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.”

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?”

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.”

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?”

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.”

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly.

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!”

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.”

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?”

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.”

That got you paying attention. “What?”

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!”

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?”

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!”

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.”

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut.

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.”

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.”

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.”

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.”

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same.

You were comically doomed.

The next day went… shockingly smooth.

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated.

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper.

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you.

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about.

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long.

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you.

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said.

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?”

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.”

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.”

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.”

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked.

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted.

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy.

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon.

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three.

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection.

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.”

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said.

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.”

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.”

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.”

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone.

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.”

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.”

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.”

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.”

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence.

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence.

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to.

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing.

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.”

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.”

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.”

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?”

“Help you up?”

You nodded. “I can do it myself.”

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.”

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said.

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.”

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now.

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused.

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?”

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.”

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero.

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for?

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself.

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use.

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface.

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up.

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something.

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone.

And you found yourself laughing.

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.”

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder.

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?”

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!”

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.”

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?”

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut.

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat.

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?”

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you?

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered.

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?”

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—”

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight.

“Of course,” he nodded.

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore.

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up.

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours

“Until you can change,” he said.

“...Thank you,” you said.

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again.

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting.

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs.

You weren’t out of breath from exertion.

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monzabee · 5 months ago

Text

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?”

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.”

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–”

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?”

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?”

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy – he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.”

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.”

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone.

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.”

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?”

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment.

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!”

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.”

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?”

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–”

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–”

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.”

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?”

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.”

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?”

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!”

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover.

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!”

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?”

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.”

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?”

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...”

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?”

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers?

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?”

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?”

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?”

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?”

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.”

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.”

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?”

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.”

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?”

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?”

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.”

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?”

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach. But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to [email protected], but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.”

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.”

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?”

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?”

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.”

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.”

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?”

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.”

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?”

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.”

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?”

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!”

“I know you don’t,” he nods.

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!”

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.”

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.”

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.”

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.”

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up.

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pyrrhiccomedy · 8 months ago

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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

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kookslastbutton · 1 year ago

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

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onelittlespiral · 9 months ago

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FML: Video

“Shoot, I don’t know about this. Something about watching this feels weird.”

My bro just kept holding my face, “You said you wanted to be one of the bros dude. Just keep watching, this video will tell you everything you need to know”

“Yeah, you said that, but this is just static and nonsense, and something about it has me on edge. Just let me get out of here.”

“But don’t it speak to you? Isn’t there something you want to let out jock boy.”

“I…no, no I… I can’t… stop, what’s happening?”

“Jock boy is about to learn what being a bro is all about. Jock boy wants to listen carefully to his bro and watch the video.”

“No no no… but, it… it sounds so… calm…”

“Yeah jock boy, just like a mind vacation. Just let it happen. Good jock boy.”

“Must… listen… to… bruuuuhhh.”

Sometimes it takes a little convincing, but eventually they all fall. Their eyes grow wide before their muscles go limp and mouths drop open. It usually only takes a little bit for them to process. But when they finally do come too, it’s like a whole different world in there. The first one I did by accident. Found the weird file and sent it to my roommate as a joke. It wasn’t until I got back from class that I saw just how much power I now had.

Gone was the theater kid, in his place was a souped up bro ready to knock back some cold ones, and get sweaty in the gym. It was a surprise when he began rubbing my thigh in the sauna, and pulled me in for a kiss. I melted in his arms as he positioned me on the bench and began stretching me out. I was so relaxed he slid in with no lube, fucking me raw and hard as his tongue kept my mouth distracted from moaning. Thought I just got lucky there, happened to get a gay guy. But I quickly learned for him now, “any hole’s a goal.” And it was confirmed when I tried it with a second guy:

Good old Southern boy, and as straight as they came. Thought he was hot shit in class. Sent him the file when we were on a group project together. By the next day when he came in, he couldn’t add two numbers together with a calculator. He was still smug as hell but in bed, let’s just say he earned it. He was about as thick as an ear of corn, and he knew how to plow a field and spread his seed.

I had tried a couple others since then. A scholarship rival here. A group mate there. A couple disappointing dates that ended up really turning the night around. But my friend had finally gotten curious and started asking some questions. I didn’t need someone to question what was happening. I needed a lifting buddy. This was my first time trying to edit the file to get some different results.

“Hey, bro? What happened last night? I feel hung over as fuck..”

Holy shit he was massive. “Nothing too much bro. You just got fucking shit faced.”

“Huhuhu, yeah,” he gawfed, “sounds right.

It was time to try the trigger and see how much the changes worked, “Hey, jock boy, tell me your name.”

His laughter stopped as his eyes glossed over, “My name is Jack, but my friends just call me Jacked.”

“What do you want more than anything, jock boy?”

“To serve my bros,” he replied.

“Will you do anything for them?”

His mind flickered for a moment. I saw a look of confusion pass over him. He looked down, “Hey, what… WHAT HAPPENED? What did you do-“

I walked up and held his face“JOCK BOY, STOP.”

He tried to fight it, his mind pulling him back to the abyss. But as I watched his body slowly relax, I knew I had won even before he said, “Ye-yeah. Sure thing bro.”

“Jock Boy, will you do anything for your bros?”

His face broke out in a shiteating grin, “Fuck yeah, anything for my bros.”

“New exercise routine. You, face down, ass up. My bed. Now.”

He excitedly ran back to my bedroom. I heard the bed squeal under his weight. Good to know I could edit things. Can’t always let my bros have all the fun.

#bro #straight to gay #fml #jockification #hypnosis #jock

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watchmegetobsessed · 9 months ago

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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.

And that person is music producer, Y/N.

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting.

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing.

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one.

NEXT PART

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

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improbable-outset · 1 year ago

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📄 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Married couple, Unprotected sex, SMUT, kissing, vaginal fingering, brief cum eating, tit sucking, giving Miguel a hand job while he explains the male anatomy 🫡 brief praises, body worship, eventual breeding kink, mentions of contraceptive pills, couple role play(?)

𝐀/𝐍: Is it me or has tumblr updated and it’s harder to use now?? Like I can’t move images like I used to?! Anyways this is inspired by my old mutuals fic (Salty if you see this, hey bestie!! That Doc fic examining player still lives rent free in my head!) Anyways, enjoy!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In an effort to make amends for neglecting Miguel, you dedicate a night to spend quality time together. However, Miguel has other ideas to make the evening unforgettable— using science.

Your joints clicked as you stood up from your work chair. You’ve finally finished your project that you’ve been putting your blood, sweat and tears into and sacrificed your sleeping schedule to complete.

Your body felt stiff and heavy from sitting in one place for so long. The apartment was quiet as expected to be at this late hour, amplifying the creaks of your joints.

You switched off the monitor before you left your office and plodded upstairs to the bedroom with heavy steps and slouching shoulders.

You found Miguel in the bedroom, engrossed in tinkering with his watch with only his sweatpants on and no shirt.

His eyes crinkled up as he sensed your presence. “There she is…”

You didn’t feel like you deserved his acknowledgment, let alone his affection, especially the way you’ve neglected him for your work the past few days.

He didn’t expect you to say anything back but he felt the weight of your solemn expression, “¿Estás bien?

You shake your head mutely in response, guilt washing over you. He stepped closer, closing the distance with a gentle stride. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

Your mouth was dry from the lack of fluids you’ve been avoiding, making your voice slightly hoarse “I’m sorry, I’ve been pushing you away.”

He lowered himself and held your chin with his thumb to tilt your head up so you would look at him. The gesture made your heart ache.

“Is that why you’re upset? You know I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always come back to you mi alma,” he murmured.

Even if he did lower himself to be level with you, he still felt bigger. It made you feel protected, the way he towered over you with his large frame.

The holographic lamp illuminated the room, casting a gentle glow. With its subtle lighting you could see the crimson gleam from Miguel’s eyes, which melted the weight of your stress from the past few days and the newfound guilt.

You were glad the main light wasn’t on to flood the room with its sickening bright glow that would scream at you — your eyes needed a rest from the screen and the absence of flood lights gave that comfort you needed.

He leaned in to kiss you and you tiptoed to deepen the kiss. It felt refreshing, feeling his lips again— almost like an anchor that kept you grounded.

You wrapped your arms around his neck while he wrapped his around your waist. His tongue teased your lips before slipping in, tasting you and you let him take his fill of you before pulling away.

“Miguel…” you breathed, hesitant to break the peace in the room.

“How about we shift our focus on a different kind of study.” He suggested. There was a lighthearted undertone in his sentence that you tried to articulate.

You cocked your brow inquisitively until you remembered Miguel’s background in the science field. “Study? As in science?”

“Science is such a broad term. Let’s start with biology and anatomy,”

You heart stuttered in both anticipation and excitement along with your core already throbbing. You could already sense where this was going as soon as you heard anatomy. The atmosphere felt charged guided by the intimate spirit of Miguel’s proposal.

He lifted you up before gently placing you on the bed.

Being a skilled geneticist, Miguel seized every opportunity to share random biology facts, particularly in the most unexpected moments with you.

It was one of the many things you found attractive about him, especially seeing him being so engrossed in explaining things to you in a way you would understand. It made the complexities of biology feel like an intimate and shared journey.

But you’ve never seen him act like this before sex. Perhaps he was trying something new to keep the spark alive.

“How about we remove your clothes.” His hands hiked up beneath your shirt as he spoke.

“Is this part of the biology teaching?” You asked.

“Let’s just say it’s part of the more practical application.” He removed your shirt and your pants, leaving you in your panties and bra. “And you’re the specimen.”

You were amused with where this was going, seeing Miguel’s professional act starting to surface. A scientist eager to teach (and please).

You felt him run his hand over your neck. Spots of goosebumps rose on your skin from the cool air in the room.

“Your skin is so soft…” He murmured into your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

Another advantage of being married to a geneticist was that Miguel knew all the sensitive areas on the body and what made you tick. Even before you did anything together, he was aware of all the areas that could arouse a woman.

His lips grazed over your collarbone, trailing down to where it meets the shoulders.

“The collarbone is connected to your shoulders by the supraclavicular ligament,” he explained softly. He kissed the soft skin around the area.

“Suprac—clavic—ular ligament—” Each syllable accelerated in pitch as you tried to repeat after him.

His hand reached behind your back to unclip your bra before slipping them off, one strap at a time.

Your breasts were now fully exposed and he reached over and cupped one with his large hands.

“The breasts are a collection of organs that play an important role in the reproduction of human females, amor. They are key to producing milk,” He kissed along your chest until he reached the valley between the two breasts.

“They also serve to attract a sexual partner…which seems to be working on us.”

You didn’t expect him to lick the skin where his lips hovered over between your breasts. You shuddered in shock until he pulled away to look up at you again.

“They’re also erogenous zones, making them more sensitive to simulations. Would you like me to demonstrate?” You nodded in response.

You managed to catch the corner of his lips curve up in amusement, even if he made a concerted effort to conceal how turned on he was right now.

He wore the familiar analytical veneer he always carried when he was working in the lab, except this time you could see his excitement babbling beneath the surface.

He dipped his head until his mouth latched onto one of your breasts. Despite knowing this was going to happen, you couldn’t help the surprise whimper that slipped from your mouth.

His tongue lapped over your hardened nipple while his other hand still fondled with your other breast. You groaned out from his touches, running one of your hands over the locks of his hair.

It was flattering, seeing Miguel soaking in everything from you, even when you felt like you had little to offer. Miguel seemed to never get enough of you and to this day, your heart still leaped out of you chest with him around.

He released your nipples and you were met with hooded crimson eyes, dazed and awestrucked. You couldn’t stop your shoulders from bunching together in shyness at him.

He moneuvered you so you were laying your back on the bed. Two broad arms rested besides you on the bed with his abs displayed over you.

“Between the legs are the female reproductive system, we’ll be focusing on the labia minora and the labia majora for this lesson,”

He pulled your panties down, revealing your wetness between your thighs.

A sudden rush of cold air brushed against your folds, making you more wet and exposed. His hand reached over, extending out of your line of sight until his fingers were lightly stroking around the delicate flesh.

“The labia minora is a set of two fleshy folds that form around the inner portion of the labia majora. They are positioned around the vaginal opening to protect the urethra and…”

You gasped when you felt one of his fingers slip into your slick cunt before slowly moving in and out of you.

“…and the vagina.”

His sentence was finished off with the soft sounds of your slick from his fingers along with your breathy moans. Your walls fluttered around his finger while he slipped in another digit in, prompting you to grip onto the sheets tightly.

He moved to your ear and spoke in a lowered tone, his breath brushing against your earlobe. “Do you remember which hormones are released when a person is aroused?”

He rubbed his thumb over your swollen clit while watching you fall apart from his touches. You couldn’t fully process the question in your head, let alone form a coherent response.

“God— Miguel-!” You babbled out.

“Come on amor, I know you know the answer,” he coaxed, having the audacity to continue teasing your cunt with his fingers.

He was going to keep teasing until he got an answer from you. You wouldn’t be surprised if he refused to let you come too until you responded to him with the right answer.

“O-oxytocin and…hm-m…serotonin?” Your words came staggered and breathless. You were fighting the urge to rock your hips further to ride on his finger but you knew better not to push your luck. This was for science after all.

“Such a smart wife. Are you feeling it, amor? The euphoric feeling and the release of the hormones throughout your body?” Miguel was still near your ear as he asked.

You were so drawn into bliss, you almost forgot about the whole biology lesson and the practical demonstration.

You could tell that watching how responsive you were to his touches excited him, especially if it included him talking about what he knew best.

He withdrew his his hands away and curved his finger so none of your slick slipped away. He spread his fingers apart, watching the string of your fluids clinging onto the pads of his fingers.

You felt your face heat up in astonishment, you’ve never seen yourself leak that much before.

You weren’t surprised to see him stick his fingers in his mouth to clean himself up. He ate you out before so this was nothing new to him.

Once he was satisfied, he manoeuvred himself to remove his pants along with his boxers, freeing his aching cock. Despite the low lighting, you could still see it throbbing and the veins lining on the skin.

You sat up enough so you could reach to his cock. You wrapped your hand around his length, earning a low groan from him. “Since we covered the female, do you wanna walk me through the male anatomy now?”

You swiped your thumb over the tip where his pre-cum was leaking from. You were purposefully tormenting him now.

“You’re unbelievable,” he grunted, but you could clearly see he couldn’t stop the grin tugging on his lips.

“Come on Mig, do it for biology,”

You started stroking his length, making sure you touched every part of his skin from the base to the tip.

His breathing became shallow with low whimpers stringing out but he tried to compose himself before he spoke.

“The penis and the testicles both….have a lot of blood flow to them but— hmm.. the main purpose of the testicles is to produce testosterone and—” He couldn’t help the low moan that came out when he felt you increase your pace, but he was still determined to finish.

“Go on…” you prodded.

“…produce testosterone and sperm cells…dios— the penis….the penis is the biggest part of the male anatomy. It allows urination, ejaculation or urine and semen, shit! It also helps the male with erection-!” He finished off the last sentence in one shaky breath. Your hand came to a halt around his tip.

“Thanks for the clarification…” You released his dick swiftly, satisfied by his explanation.

After catching his breath and recomposing himself, Miguel positioned himself so his dick was near your opening. His tip nuzzled against your folds with you silky walls clenching desperately onto nothingness.

You were ready for him, even your clit was throbbing in anticipation, and there was nothing you wanted more than to have him inside you right now.

“Now that we’ve completed the preliminary, I think we should come to the conclusion,” he said.

You couldn’t help the breathy giggles from your lips. He was really immersing himself in the role, playing the part of a tutor with dedication and charm.

He pushed himself inside of you. You haven’t done anything in a while so you had to allow yourself to readjust to his length again.

You fleshy walls struggled to open up but eventually you did accomodate to his size, feeling the familiarity of him.

Once he was all the way in, he came to a halt. Feeling yourself stretch out for him was dizzying. But sudden realisation hit you.

“Miguel, I might be on my fertility window…” you interjected, a tinge of nervousness in your voice.

While you and Miguel have discussed growing a family together in the past, the timing never felt right, and you weren’t ready for the responsibility of motherhood yet.

You’ve been taking birth control pills for your peace of mind. However, with the onset of your work project, you’ve stopped taking the pills and your body was still adjusting to the withdrawal— including your accelerated libido.

Miguel’s face didn’t falter but you could practically see the gears turning in his head from your statement. Everything felt more apparent, especially now with his dick buried inside of you.

“What are you trying to tell me, amor?” You could feel his cock twitching in anticipation inside of you and touching your cervix, almost making you lose your bearing.

“I’m off the pills Miguel. So there’s a chance that I might get knocked up after this…but it is part of biology, right?”

You ran your hands over his broad chest and he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch before resting his forehead on yours.

“You wanna be a mami?” He asked, assuring full clarity and consent from you.

Miguel, a devoted lover, would do anything to make you happy and would give you a family if that’s what you wished for. You nodded and that’s when you knew, he was ready for fatherhood too.

Your hands now wrapped around his naps, fingers lacing together. His gaze dropping to where you bodies joined.

He dragged himself out, feeling the suction from your walls, before snapping his hips back in again. The friction against your walls forced a whine out of you.

He began rolling his hips repeatedly against you in a steady rhythm, each slap ending in a jolt of overwhelming ecstasy. Your fingers were losing their grip around his neck and your hands slipped, with your nails now pressing onto his back.

Your mind and senses started to evaporate and all you could think of right now was chasing your high and Miguel filling you up with his cum, staining you and finally getting you pregnant.

You wanted to feel him for weeks, feel how much he stretched you and filled you. Your nails were digging further into his back as he thrusted deeper into you, hitting your cervix with each snap of his hips.

“Gimme a baby, Mig.” You moaned out, the mere throughly of him breeding you drove you insane. You needed his fill, you needed him to knock you up.

“Sí amor, I’ll give you as many babies as you want,”

His thrusts became more sporadic and you sensed he was lost in a haze too. A few strands of his hair stuck to the moisture that developed on his forehead. You were sinking further into the sheets, taking in everything he was giving you.

The room filled with the bed creaking in protest and the slap of his hips into yours. Soon, his pace became sloppy and uneven.

You watched the familiar trence of your husband’s climax unfold. You always felt a sense of pride knowing that only you could see him so scattered outside the composed and stoic demeanor that everyone else was used to.

His brows furrowed in full concentration and his words came out messy and slurred along with strings of your name.

He finished off with his cum pulsating inside of you in thick loads. He didn’t pull his his hips back until both balls were drenched into you. You felt your walls clenched from the withdrawal as he pulled out.

Immediately, Miguel grabbed one of the pillows and positioned it beneath you, elevating your rear.

“Keep it in there,” he instructed. He didn’t want any of his cum to go to waste and leak out.

He starts to massage your thighs to sooth any aches you were feeling. You mind drifted back to the birth control pill that you still kept in the cabinet. There was still another box left, yet you knew that you weren’t planning to take them anymore.

You mentally reminded yourself to dispose them in the morning. You looked up at Miguel again, who was still massaging your thighs.

You sighed. “You know there’s a chance I might not get pregnant the first time…”

In that moment, vulnerability wrapped around your words which connected the both of you in shared acknowledgment.

You let your mind wandered about finally getting pregnant, with Miguel praising you and kissing your swollen belly. You imagined all the appointments you’d have to attend to, leading up to the day of your baby’s arrival.

“So, does that mean we’ll be having more biology classes?” Miguel stopped massaging and spread you legs again to display your slick core.

“I think so…how about another round?”

He leaned into kiss your forehead. “I’m down if you are.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @slootbear @thealleydog @huniedeux @lazy-idate @club-danger-zone @blankknsfww @ivory3577 @spdrwdw @migueloharasoulmate @ednaaa-04 @miguelbaby @alyeskathewave @r7yirr @palesatan @keigoloveminty @krentkova19 @laysmt @daisy-artfield @famouscattale @fairywitch2000 @lazyjellyfish300 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii

Does anyone recognise the banner I used at the top of the post??

Part 2

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angel-eyes05 · 2 years ago

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to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

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i2sunric · 1 month ago

Text

𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 (p.sh)

falling out of love

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: sunghoon x reader (f)

SUMMARY: you used to think love was unshakable, that once you had it, it would always be enough. but with sunghoon, you realized love faded slowly, like a photograph left too long in the sun.

WARNINGS: established relationship, angst, break up, sunghoon doesn’t love reader anymore, he was a lil loser when they dated, reader suffers, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th November 2024

WC: 2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy (project) @whateverhoon @theothernads

NOW PLAYING: enough for you by Olivia Rodrigo

The restaurant was small and cozy, the kind of place that smelled like freshly baked pastries and homemade soups. You fiddled with the edge of your napkin, glancing nervously at the clock.

Silently cursing yourself for having arrived to the location a whole forty-five minutes early.

“Hey,” Sunghoon’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft and uncertain.

You looked up to find him standing there, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket—one that he must’ve definitely stolen from his father, since it was a lot oversized on him— a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

He wasn’t wearing his usual confident smirk, and for some reason, that made your heart flutter even more.

“Hi,” you said, smiling as he slid into the seat across from you.

There was a pause as both of you tried to think of what to say. You’d known Sunghoon for a while, but this was different—this was a date.

It all started when the two of you were paired together for a project, and, unlike many with whom you have worked, Sunghoon genuinely helped you through all the presentation making.

That had ignored a genuine friendship, until Sunghoon built up the courage to ask you out on a friday dinner date.

“So,” he said finally, clearing his throat. “Do you— uh, come here often?”

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Are you seriously using that line on me right now?”

Sunghoon groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

“It’s fine,” you said, still laughing. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Cute, huh?”

You chuckled and reached across the table to remove his fingers from his face, and strangely enough, he took the opportunity to hold your hand.

Feeling butterflies tickle your stomach, you reciprocated the warm smile he was giving you.

The conversation between the two of you went on flawlessly then, not forced like it had at first.

After your dinner, Sunghoon took you to get some ice cream and you just walked around the park until it was getting late. Again, without having to ask him, he walked you home.

As soon as you got in front of your doorstep, he waited a couple of steps behind you.

“I’m really glad you actually showed up today.” he confessed, making you feel a pang of sympathy for him.

“Of course, Hoon, I had a great time.” his expression lit up, both for the nickname and your response.

“We can do it again sometimes.” He gingerly proposed, and you nodded “Sure, we can organise that.”

Sunghoon smiled happily and placed his hands in his pockets, due to the cold of the evening “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sunghoon.” You said and turned around to open your door.

But, as you felt courage and euphoria bubble inside of you, you turned around and hurried towards him.

To your surprise, he was still standing there, probably waiting for you to get inside.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a soft kiss on his plump lips.

He was taken aback, his eyes so wide they almost fell out. Tentatively, he placed his hands on your waist and held you as he kissed you back.

It wasn’t something lustful, just a gentle brush of lips. But it was enough to ignite a giddy sensation in the pit of your stomach.

“So, see you on Monday.” you said as you stepped back, tripping against the small stairs.

“Wo— careful there.” Sunghoon laughed and helped you steady “See you.”

You gave him a warm smile and finally entered your house, closing the door behind your back. Perhaps, giving the quiet and shy guy a chance wasn’t as bad as everytime thought.

A few months passed and after the awkward dates at first, the two of you finally became an official couple and spent most of your free time together.

You were at the skating rink, after having begged your boyfriend to take you there and teach you what he knew.

After having taught you the basics, it was a surprise how you still needed his hands to steady you as you wobbled on the ice.

“You’re doing great,” he said, his voice warm with encouragement.

“Liar,” you said, laughing as you nearly lost your balance again.

Sunghoon grinned, his grip tightening on your waist. “Okay, maybe you’re a little wobbly. But you’re better than last time.”

“How do you even manage to jump?” you asked, genuinely curious. For you, it was even hard staying upright, but you had watched Sunghoon’s tapes of his old competition, and he moved gracefully.

“I circle the rink to gain momentum,” he replied, “But don’t worry, I was worse than you when I first started.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, feeling a little more confident as you glided forward.

However, said confidence was short-lived.

One moment, you were laughing, and the next, your foot caught on the ice, sending you tumbling to the ground. You landed hard, wincing as pain shot through your wrist.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon was at your side in an instant, his eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to sit up, but he gently pushed you back down.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice firm. “What if it’s serious?”

“It’s not serious,” you assured him, but Sunghoon was already pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“Should I call an ambulance? Or maybe the rink staff? They might have a first aid kit.”

“Sunghoon,” you said, grabbing his arm to stop him. “I just landed badly. It’s not a big deal.”

He looked at you, his brow furrowed with concern. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you said, smiling despite the pain.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. But I’m carrying you to the car.”

“Sunghoon, I can walk—“ you tried to protest, but it was useless.

“No arguments,” he said, scooping you up before you could add anything.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he carried you out of the rink, his face set in a determined expression. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, but the warmth in your chest told you how much his concern meant to you.

Love didn’t end with a dramatic fight or a sudden goodbye. It ended in the quiet moments, in the spaces where words used to flow freely, now replaced by a heavy silence. It ended in the way his touch, once warm and reassuring, now felt distant and mechanical.

You used to think love was unshakable, that once you had it, it would always be enough. But with Sunghoon, you learned that love wasn’t always about grand gestures or promises whispered under the stars. Sometimes, love faded slowly, like a photograph left too long in the sun.

It had all felt magical at first, like the scent of cinnamon and gingerbread that lingers in the air during Christmas times, or the sea breeze that hugs your skin while walking during a summer evening.

And now, as the two of you sat in the same room, the weight of what had been and what was left between you hung heavy in the air. You could feel it—the slow unraveling of something that once felt so permanent.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care anymore. It was that he didn’t know how to, not in the way he used to.

And maybe, just maybe, neither did you.

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the flickering TV screen that neither of you had been paying attention to. Sunghoon sat beside you, his posture stiff, his arms crossed tightly as if holding himself together.

It had been weeks—months, maybe—since you’d last felt truly connected to him. The warmth that once filled the spaces between you was gone, replaced by a chilling distance that no words seemed able to bridge.

“Do you even care anymore?” You asked suddenly, your voice breaking the stillness.

Sunghoon’s head turned sharply toward you, his expression unreadable. “What kind of question is that?” he replied, his voice low but strained.

You looked at him, your chest aching at the sight of his tired eyes. He looked like a stranger now, and maybe that was what hurt the most. “It’s a question I’ve been too afraid to ask,” You said quietly. “But I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me the truth,” you said, your voice trembling. “Are you still in this? Are we still in this?”

His silence was deafening.

Your heart sank as he avoided your gaze, his fingers fidgeting nervously in his lap. That was the answer, wasn’t it? The one you’d been dreading but already knew deep down.

“Do you remember how we used to be?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “We couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop laughing. You’d look at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.”

“I remember,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of something unspoken.

“Then what happened to us?”

He finally looked at you, his eyes clouded with guilt and something that looked like regret. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I wish I did. But somewhere along the way… things just changed.”

The words cut through you like a knife. You had expected such words, but hearing them aloud made them real.

“I still care about you,” he added quickly, as if trying to lessen the blow. “I always will. But…”

“But you don’t love me anymore,” you finished for him, tears welling up in your eyes.

He didn’t deny it. And that was the part that hurt the most.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of what had been left unsaid hung heavy in the air, suffocating you both.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you said finally, your voice breaking. “I can’t keep holding on to something that isn’t there.”

Because you tried, with all your being. You tried to linger in those small moments you now spent together.

But the way he didn’t meet your good morning with a smile anymore, the way he’d try to get out of the house so quickly just not to talk to you.

The way he came back late, and the way you two barely talked until you pass out on the bed. Without ever, ever, touching each other.

It hurt, more than a shot to the heart would.

Sunghoon’s head dropped, his hands covering his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You stood, your legs trembling beneath you as you gathered the strength to walk away. “So am I,” you said, your voice shaking with the weight of your heartbreak.

“I think I’m moving out,” you said with a shaky voice “I’ll spend the night at my parents and come to gather my things tomorrow.”

“Ok.” was all Sunghoon said, and you were sure once you stepped outside, you’d break down.

Because he didn’t fight for you, he didn’t try to hold you back, to make things right. Was it really so late? Were you really that shattered?

You could still remember all those times he was so shy around you, when he’d blush at the mere brushing of your elbows while walking.

You reminisced your first time, when he was so gentle, when you ended up talking the whole night away, just content to be with the other.

But the Sunghoon sitting on the sofa wasn’t the same fell in love with. No, he was a stranger to your heart.

He didn’t hold its keys anymore, he had given them back to you, ready for another one to keep them safely.

You were glad for him, glad for all the memories he made you experience, and how he had never once broken your heart, even accidentally.

Except for that day.

As you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, you paused, glancing back at him one last time. He didn’t move, his figure slouched and defeated, and for a moment, you thought he would stop you.

But he didn’t.

And as you stepped out into the cold night, you realized that letting go of someone you love isn’t just about walking away—it’s about accepting that sometimes, even love isn’t enough to keep two people together. It wasn’t glue.

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spider-stark · 2 years ago

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SPIDER-BOY

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.

friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Two months.

That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned.

Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.

And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return.

Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far.

“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?”

Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?”

“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.”

“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?”

“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing.

His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.”

“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.”

Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance.

“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further.

“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.

Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?”

“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.”

He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.”

You cocked a brow at him, “How so?”

“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?”

“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile.

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.”

“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted.

“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.”

“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.”

Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.”

Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology.

“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment.

“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.”

He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.”

The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face.

“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.”

Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing.

“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.”

His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it.

“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.”

Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights.

Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker headcanons #tasm peter parker imagine #tasm peter x reader #andrew!peter fanfiction #peter parker fluff #andrew!peter fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #tasm fic #spiderman fic #mcu imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 6 months ago

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would you like to tell us about your research on virginity?

but also...wdym STIs aren't as scary as we think??? I was told most of them are incurable? I know you can make aids untrasmittable and that they've even succeded in curing it a couple times but that's about it. I would love to be educated about this

yeah, the basic idea with the virginity project was that the whole concept of virginity is pretty bullshit in the context in which it was initially significant, namely cisgender women being penetrated by cisgender men, so as soon as you take it outside of that context by introducing gay and trans sexuality it totally falls apart. I mean, hell, it stops working if you even look at two cishet people doing literally anything OTHER than penis-in-vagina sex. I tripped up so many people initially when I started asking questions like "okay, so you don't think a woman loses her virginity from a man going down on her. so what if it's two women? what's the difference?" and just really getting people to face down their very penis-centered view of the sex, to the result of several people telling me that it kind of made them reevaluate what they actually think of as the first time they had sex. it's also fascinating to either read other people's accounts or discuss firsthand how queer people have either tried to make themselves fit into the binary of virginity - queer man disagreeing over whether or not you have to have penetrative anal sex to lose your virginity or oral sex is sufficient, a fascinating case of a lesbian who felt that have sex with other cis women didn't "count" and asked a cis male friend to have sex with her just so she could feel satisfied that she'd lost her virginity - or abandon it entirely. Hanne Blank's book Virgin was a formative starting point, and it really exploded for me from there.

as for the STIs - hey, bad news! you fell victim to the scare tactics used to make people afraid of sex! almost all sexually transmitted infections are very easy to treat and cure with the right medicine, which is why it's important to get tested regularly and check in with your healthcare provider at the first sign of something amiss. pubic lice, scabies, trichomoniasis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis - all of those are pretty easy to get rid of with some help from your doctor and a run to the pharmacy!

the major exceptions are the 4 H's: herpes, HIV, HPV, and hepatitis B.

herpes is with you forever but is an incredibly mild companion to share your body with, considering most people never experience any notable symptoms and those who do can curb the severity with medicine.

it's also worth noting that herpes is so common as to be virtually ubiquitous; the World Health Organization consistently estimates that somewhere around 80% of the world's adult population is carrying herpes simplex virus 1 or herpes simplex virus 2. a great deal of those people don't even get it from having sex, but rather by catching HSV-1 from a parent or other people they come is close contact with as a child.

you're actually thinking of HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) when you mention AIDS becoming untransmittable, but that's still a very good thing! the care available for people with HIV has come incredibly far since AIDS first became known and claimed so many lives, and today it's more than possible for people infected with HIV to live long, healthy lives by taking the proper medication to manage their viral load.

with management, people with HIV will not develop AIDS (which happens when the immune system is sufficiently depleted by HIV) and by consistently taking their medication people with HIV can become undetectable (the viral load in their body is too small to be detected or measured in tests), at which point they are unable to transmit the virus to other people.

HPV (human paillomavirus) comes in many different strains, most of which are absolutely harmless and go away on their own after a couple of months or years of freeloading in your body. I cannot emphasize this enough: HPV is so common that virtually everyone who has sex has, will have, or has had it in their lives, and the vast, VAST majority of those people will never be troubled by it literally at all.

the trouble comes from a few strains of HPV that can cause genital warts, and a few others that can cause cancers in the throat, anus, cervix, vulva, vagina, and penis. while HPV can't be treated, you can reduce your risk of developing cancer by getting the HPV vaccine if you haven't already and, if you have a cervix, getting regular Pap smears to catch early warning signs of cancerous developments.

hepatitis B is a viral infection that targets the liver. in rare cases it can cause chronic health problems that can be very dangerous, but I have to emphasize that's not common. in most adults who get hep B, there will be no symptoms and it will resolve itself in a matter of weeks. the infection is riskiest in children, but at least in America most people have received vaccines against hepatitis B as babies since the 90s.

in conclusion: get your shots, take your medicine, use protection, get tested, and talk to your doctor, but know that if there's one thing humans are good at it's figuring out how to manage STIs. we've been doing it for a long time - most sexually transmitted infections and parasites have been with us since before we we became modern humans - so we're really good at it!

#sex edventures 2024 #sti posts

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skteezcursed · 10 months ago

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❝MY EVERYTHING❞ — c.jh (request)

PAIRING. choi jongho x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS. jongho has always been your person, as well as you were his. neither of you knew exactly when everything shift from friendship to love, neither knew how madly in love either were. you trusted him blindly. he would move mountains for you. all you both needed to do was to say the three little words.

GENDER. smut. pure fluff.

AU/TROPES. best friends to lover. idiots in love. college au. jongho is a simp.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WARNINGS. soft sex. cunnilingus. handjob. blowjob. fingering. dry humping/thigh riding. unprotected sex (pull out method and please don’t do this). cock warming (kinda). let me know if i forgot anything.

WORD COUNT. 12k (a little more than you requeste but i did it haha).

NOTES. english is not my first language. jongho is the sweetest. all the boys pariticipate, but mostly WooSanSang. this story is for pookie minnie (@yourlocaljonghoe), hope you like it, sorry for the delay. thank you @bro-atz for being the beta! bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraing how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

It was ridiculously pathetic, it had to be.

There was no way everything could possibly get better, feel better, just be better because you entered a space, and yet, the rays of sunshine felt like they shine brighter, the wind of early fall could be felt on his skin (as if he wasn't in the closet out space of the library), the hushed conversations quickly muffled as all his eyes could see was you entering the library with your laptop and books in hand, your bag hanging from your shoulder as your hand took some of the hair away from your face.

He knew it was wrong, to feel the things he felt for you, you were his best friend after all, but he just couldn’t control it. You have always been there for him during middle and high school, people used to joke that you two were a couple, he had even helped you get away from unwanted attention, that was probably when it all started, when he started to look at you differently, when your touch started to burn his skin in a good way, when the butterflies in his stomach stopped being from anxiety and started to be because you were close to him, your hand in some part of his body, or simply when your eyes found his, followed or not by a small smile.

It was only when you sat in front of him that he realized how he was staring, feeling his ears turn red but thankfully your attention was mostly focused on your things. Both had different subjects as you two were from different courses, but you always find time to study together, even if just for a bit, a habit you both got mainly thanks to how difficult high school had been.

“How were your classes? I thought you’d be here only later.”

“Last one got canceled,” he tried not to focus on your face, rather at your hands and how you splattered everything at the table, making a small smile appear on his lips. “You know you don’t need to bring your whole house to your classes and such, right?”

“As if you don’t always try to get at least one of these from me whenever we study together,” you laughed before throwing an eraser in his direction which he easily catches, making you roll your eyes. “Anyway, do you mind if someone joins our study session?”

“Someone?”

It wasn’t common for that to happen, mostly because either of you had a project together with someone else, but since classes had barely started, it didn’t really made sense for someone else to enter your little study sessions.

“Yeah, he’s actually my senior, we gonna help each other out in two different projects,” if you had been paying attention, you’d notice how Jongho’s eyes widened slightly and how his Adam’s apple went up and down nervously. He had seen you before with other guys, going out and having fun, but it always caught him off guard when you asked first, since the last time you asked if someone could join, ‘they’ ended up becoming your boyfriend. “He’s super nice I promise you’ll like him! His name is Seonghwa and he’s the sweetest!”

“Oh, yeah,” he tried to compose himself a little so you wouldn’t notice the frown on his face or how slightly annoyed he was. Although he didn’t really expect you to see through his actions or wait for him to finally grow a pair and finally ask you out, it still hurt the fact that everything didn’t seem anything other than a friend caring for another, “is he coming now or?”

“(y/n)?” Both raised your heads as a figured stood beside you, making Jongho hide his jealousy the best he could. The man was one of the most wanted guys on college. Perfect slick back hair, perfect teeth, perfect smile, perfect height, perfect body, perfectly polite, a gentleman if all, and he had his eyes focused on you, as your smile spread widely as his presence was noted. “Hope I didn’t take too long, had to fix a few things with the teacher.”

So, he was supposed to join regardless of what Jongho said? What if he said no? Would you still have had Seonghwa joining in on your session?

“Hey Seonghwa! It’s okay, don’t worry!” You two exchanged quick hugs before you pointed to Jongho. “This is the guy I was telling you about, Jongho!”

“Oh, the famous Jongho! Hello!” Famous?, Seonghwa’s hand was stretched out to Jongho who quickly took it, a polite smile on his lips as Seonghwa took the chair on your side. “I’m so sorry to barge in and wanting to do this fast, I just -”

“It’s okay, I know,” God and you gave him that smile? Jongho quickly lowered his head, trying to focus on the book in front of him, trying to ignore how you and Seonghwa giggled at each other. “- right, Jjong?”

His head quickly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips, finding both you and Seonghwa staring back at him, before clearing his own throat trying to buy a little bit of time.

“Yeah, sure,” that was the right answer, or at least he hoped, although he knew he would say yes to whatever you asked of him. As he watched your smile widening, he couldn’t help but smile himself, but once your attention shifted to Seonghwa, who also had a big smile, something shifted in him, not going unnoticed by the senior. “I- I have to go though -”

“What already?” You whined making his movements stop for a second, Seonghwa’s eyes not missing the interaction between you and your best friend. “I just got here! We were supposed to go to the diner later on our way back!”

“I won’t be long, I just needed to check all the details,” Seonghwa’s voice was quick, his gaze shifting between you and Jongho, “sorry to interrupt, we talk later, yes? I’ll text you!”

He had your number already?, Jongho cursed himself at that thought, he was your senior, you were doing a project together, of course he would have your number, but why did that bother him so much?

“Ok, we’ll talk more later, I’ll also check with Mingi and Yunho about when you can come over so we can start the project!”

“I’ll try to reason with Hongjoong, but with Eden’s last feedback he got into his own head and -”

“I get it!” You cut him with a smile, Jongho’s eyes observing everything, how your smile would widen, and a small giggle came out at Seonghwa’s words, how his eyes would linger a little longer on your face before falling down and back up. “I’ll text you once I get back from the boys, okay?”

“Yeah sure! Thank you (y/n), you are a life saver and,” as the seniors voice trailed away, Jongho realized he was now the focus of the attention as you eyed him pointing your head towards Seonghwa, who studied Jongho’s reactions, “thank you Jongho, it’s really nice to meet you, I’m happy to have finally met (y/n)’s best friend after all the things she said about you.”

“What did she say?” His eyes traveled down to you who lowered your head, but he could still see the red tips of your ears and the shy smile on your lips before looking back at Seonghwa who had his eyebrows slightly raised at the two of you. Clearing his throat, Jongho turned his attention to the senior. “Either way, it was a pleasure to meet you too Seonghwa.”

The older one just nodded with a small smirk your way before kissing the top of your head and walk out of the library. Jongho’s leg bouncing like crazy under the desk, trying to not demonstrate how that small interaction made his intestines twist, his jealous curiosity trying to figure it out how did you two got so close so fast. It was only when he saw your raised eyebrows that he notices he had been staring, again.

“Okay, spit it out,” you crossed your arms on top of the book, your eyes analyzing his face, “he is nice, you seemed to like him, so why that frown on your head is present?”

“I don’t have a frown,” the bouncing getting worse as he turned his eyes away from you, who quickly kicked his still leg under the table, getting a surprised look. “That hurt,” you just smiled tilting your head making him sigh, “how long have you known him though? You plan on having him at your place, are the guys okay with that?”

A shadow of confusion crossed your face before a wide cocky smile take place as you pointed your pen to him.

“You didn’t listen to anything we talked about, did you?” Jongho sighs and lower his head before hearing you scoff and kick him again, making him eye you annoyed. “You didn’t listen to what you agreed and now you are jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” although he tried to change the topic, you didn’t bulge, throwing the pen you were holding towards him, making him glare at you before shaking his head. “Okay, maybe I didn’t listen to everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m jealous!”

“If you say so,” the victorious smile you had almost made Jongho say something, but what he really wanted was to kiss that away. So what he was jealous? “Either way, you better control your not-jealous face tomorrow, Hwa and Joong are already -”

“Why tomorrow?” You eyed him shaking your head. “What did I agree to?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow once we arrive at Hwa’s place.”

“You barely know him and you calling him ‘Hwa’ and planning on going to his house and-”

“With you,” you cut him slightly annoyed but still amused, you loved when Jongho showed his jealous and protective side, trying to ignore how your heart was beating out of your chest because of that, “I’m going there with you tomorrow, as you agreed, and while you do what you agreed, me and Seonghwa will work on our projects.”

“And what the hell am I doing there?”

The cheeky smile you sent his way make him swallow hard, before you shake your head focusing back on your books.

“That’s on you for not paying attention and agreeing to something you don’t even know what it is.”

Although he tried his best, he couldn’t hold back a smile at your words and the smile you sent him. He couldn’t tell you he just said yes without thinking because it was you who had asked him. He couldn’t pretend he would say ‘yes’ to whatever it was that you might ask of him. He was down bad for his best friend, that was the truth as much as he tried to hide it.

“Earth to lover boy!” Before he could process, one of the cushions of the couch found his head making Jongho glare at two of his roommates, noticing as they exchanged smiles, San shaking his head, as Wooyoung appeared to be having the time of this life. “What did you and (y/n) do today? You are more distant than usual.”

“Nothing happened, what you talking about?”

Jongho sigh and joined them on the couch, San’s eyes lingered on the youngest one a little longer, but before anyone could say anything, Yeosang appeared on the hall, a towel on his shoulder and his clothes in a basket, a knowing smile on his lips, making all the other frown.

“You are not a good liar Jjong,” Yeosang laughed putting his laundry in as all three waited patiently for the older one to emerge. “I saw you three at the library.”

“Three?”

San and Wooyoung said in unison, but Jongho lips were sealed shut, cursing Yeosang as his smile grew wider. The eldest was an innocent angel most of the times, but he could be even more wicked than Wooyoung when he wanted to.

“Jjong and (y/n) were talking when Park Seonghwa entered the library joining them.”

“Wait, THE Park Seonghwa?”

Yeosang nodded at San’s question, both quick to understand why Jongho was sulking so much, but Wooyoung needed more, he always needed more and Jongho was starting to serious considering killing his best friends at that moment.

“The Park Seonghwa? Perfect, handsome, hot looking guy Park Seonghwa? The one that can have any pussy and dick he wants at any time, just by looking at someone?” San and Yeosang tried to hide a laugh as Jongho’s head slightly turned to focus on the second youngest that was still processing the fact that Seonghwa had been around Jongho and you in the afternoon. “Oh, I’m not condemning (y/n), that dick is probably a 10/10!”

“Woo!”

The other two said the same time Jongho’s fist found Wooyoung’s arm, make the other complain in pain holding his arm.

“What? If Jjong isn’t gonna act he can’t be mad if other guys show interest in (y/n)!” Everyone knew Wooyoung was right, Jongho even sigh holding his head down, the image of you and Seonghwa still carved in his brain. “Look, (y/n) is beautiful, smart, kind, funny, any guy would want a girl like that, you can’t blame Seonghwa for that, but,” all eyes turned to him, a cheeky grin on Wooyoung’s lips before he focused on Jongho, “that doesn’t mean you are out of the race, not until he asks and she accepts being with him.”

“Wooyoung is right,” San said with a smile, following the line of the thoughts Wooyoung was trying to show, Yeosang quickly joining them, also understanding what his friend was saying, all three receiving a head shake from Jongho. “C’mon Jjong, you know Woo is right!” As Jongho lifted his head, the others tried to hide a smile, maybe this time he’d listen and finally ask you out. “Why don’t you ask her out tomorrow? Go to the diner, pretend is a normal day and ask her out, ask her to give you a chance, but check first if her and Seonghwa aren’t together.”

“We are going to Seonghwa’s apartment tomorrow,” a groan escapes all their mouths, but Yeosang was quick to stand up, his thinking face making itself visible for all of them. “What is it Yeo?”

“Know your enemy!” All the others kept waiting for Yeosang to finish as we shook his head seating back down, a smart smile on his lips. “First, do you know why you two going to his house?” Jongho shook his head making the others giggle.

“He was probably too busy staring at (y/n).”

Jongho joked he was gonna hit Wooyoung again, making the second youngest try to hide behind San, making the other three laugh.

“I mean, you are not entirely wrong,” he sighs and noticed the other three waiting for him to explain what had happened, “I mean, once he was there, I tried to ignore how she was looking at him, I mean, have you seen the guy?!” All the other nodded, but Jongho ignored sighing, the image of you smiling and giggling with Seonghwa coming back into his mind like a slap in the face. “So, I tried to focus on my studies, which didn’t really work, until she asked me a question and I just nodded agreeing -”

“Yeah, because you are down bad!”

“A simp of the worst kind!”

“Bet you were just trying not to get caught drooling over her.”

He scoffs shaking his head at his best friends’ remarks, getting out the couch hearing them complaining before turning with a hidden smile.

“Look, I know I’m a simp okay? How could I not be? Not when she looks and acts like that!”

“I mean, she’s not too far behind you, so -”

“What you talking about, San?”

The older ones exchanged looks. It wasn’t uncommon for them to turn to Jongho saying you had a crush on him, that they could tell, but he never really bought that, always thinking they were playing with him, so they had stopped talking about it, even if it was obvious how you two looked at each other whenever you were in the same space.

“The same way you are down bad for her, she is for you.”

Jongho scoffed and the other three rolled their eyes.

“She could have Park Seonghwa on around her pinky! Why would she want me?”

“I agree, I never said she was good in the head,” the face Jongho made brought a laugh to the two older ones as Wooyoung was quick on his feet with his hands in front of him asking for Jongho to wait for him to finish, “look, all I’m saying is that you two are blind when it comes to each other, okay? You may not see the way she looks at you, but everyone else does.”

“Why you think people don’t usually come at her asking for a date?” Yeosang continued, standing up just like Wooyoung, standing in front of Jongho with arched eyebrows. “You may be a teddy bear, but you are fucking scary when you want and the looks you give to any guy that approaches her gives us the chills!”

“She dated before, what you guys talking about?”

“She dated because she was tired of waiting for you and someone else took the initiative,” San joined the other two in front of Jongho making the younger one groan in frustration, “look, we don’t know if (y/n) and Seonghwa are together or something, it may be just a homework thing, Seonghwa is an outgoing person, he talks to a lot of people, it may not be what you think.”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at her.”

“Was it anything like you look at her?”

“What was that supposed to mean Yeosang?”

“Did it look like she held the sun, moon and stars, the air in his lungs, like a ray of sunshine after a gloomy day, or -”

“I don’t look at her like that,” he cut Wooyoung making all the other three leave snarky smiles at that comment. “Do I look at her like that?”

“Only when you know she’s not looking at you.”

San commented putting a hand on Jongho’s shoulder pulling him back to the couch and seating him down by the shoulders, the other three circled him with knowing smiles, maybe that was the last push he needed to finally grow a pair and talk to you about his feelings, feelings everyone knew you also had for him, except himself.

“Fine, what do I have to do?”

He was a coward.

He was the most coward person you could ever find.

In his defense, you ended up going to the house first, so he couldn’t bring up anything before, as originally planned and, once he arrived, you were already working on your project with Seonghwa in the living room as you two guided him to meet with Hongjoong.

He needed someone to sing this ballad he had done, but the lyrics were still a mess, and his voice wasn’t as fitting for the song as was expected, the instrumental was almost done, but without the person to sing it, it felt hollow, broken, exactly like the words Eden used to described one of Hongjoong’s latest works.

If he was honest, Jongho liked the lyrics and the instrumental, he knew the song was incomplete, but he liked it nonetheless, the instrumentals were heavenly, as you were so quick to say once Hongjoong finally showed you what he was working on. That was when all his courage fell into pieces.

“Hongjoong! How is this even better than before the summer break? You are a music genius, don’t listen too much into Eden’s words!”

And you kissed him.

On the cheek.

But it was still a kiss.

Seonghwa’s hands firm on your waist, Hongjoong holding your hand with a shy smile.

You and Seonghwa being way too comfortable with each other never made so much sense until that point. You two were hooking up, or almost at it. His hand always on you, waist, hip, shoulder, arm, you name it! He had lost his chance, again.

“- that’s why Jongho is here, right bear?”

Your eyes lit up to find his, a shadow of something caught you off guard, but he quickly nodded, the shadow no longer there, but still made you question what had happened.

“Yeah sure, but I still don’t know how much of a help I can be.”

“Our little angel said your voice is incredible, we need someone to sing that song Joong is writing.”

Our little angel.

God he just wanted to die at that moment.

All the others noticed something was wrong, but as you stepped closer, Hongjoong quickly moved his chair as Seonghwa pulled you closer to him.

“Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, (y/n) showed us some of the recordings from your singing and you have one of the most amazing voices I’ve ever heard and I could also use of another music major for this, you’ll have your credit, don’t worry about that, but I want this to be memorable, perfect even, and I think you can help me achieve that if we work together.”

It was a love song.

You could easily tell by the guide Hongjoong had done with the lyrics he had it done, adding the soft melodic instruments the song was incredibly powerful. Jongho’s eyes found yours, they had concern in them, you were blaming yourself for the discomfort he was feeling, probably because you knew he was shy and singing in front of millions – although it was his dream – was still something too far away to grasp, even with the tips of his fingers.

The fact you had showed them the singing videos, how they acted around you, their little angel, it was more than obvious to him that you and Seonghwa were a thing, you were just trying to find a way to let him know. Hell, he knew you loved to hear him sing, maybe he could use that song to let you know how he felt, all the feelings he harbored for you could go into that song, a small letting go present. He could never be with you, because regardless of his friends’ avid points, you weren’t in love with him like he was with you.

In love.

God how something so beautiful can be such a painful thing?

“I’ll do it.”

And that was how he found himself in Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s place every other weekend. He and Hongjoong working on the song, while you and Seonghwa were somewhere in the apartment as he tried not to notice whenever your laugh became too loud or you two became too quiet, trying not to focus on the idea that you two might be in his room while he was -

“What’s up with you today?”

The song was quickly cut out as Hongjoong stared at Jongho, your muffled laugh and scream managing to pass the soundproof situation Hongjoong created so they could work on the music before using the studio the music students were allowed in only for the final version.

“Nothing is wrong, sorry, I’ll focus I -”

Both were cut as steps were felt on the other side of the door and Hongjoong noticed how Jongho’s face fell as your muffled scream was heard along with Seonghwa’s laugh.

“You do know they are just friends, right?” Jongho’s eyes peaked up at the ‘friends’ word, trying to ignore the smirk that appeared on the elder’s face. “God you two are infuriating, Hwa was right, damn it.”

“What you talking about? They are just friends? But -”

“Seonghwa is in a relationship,” Jongho stopped talking at that, waiting as Hongjoong sighed raising his eyebrows, “me and him are together, we call (y/n) our angel because otherwise we wouldn’t have happened.”

“So… All of this… What -”

“You two are just as idiots as we were,” Hongjoong got up from the chair getting closer to Jongho that was still processing the information, “your voice wasn’t the only reason why we made her talk to you to participate, but also because we wanted to be sure you were just as into her as she is into you.”

“Oh,” he said as he tried to ignore the image of Wooyoung saying ‘I told you so’ popping into his mind. “How can you be sure?”

“Because she told us,” at Jongho’s shocked eyes Hongjoong laughed loudly before going towards the computer playing the song they have been working on for the past month, as it came to an end, the elder’s eyes found the younger ones at the ground. “Did you write those parts thinking about her?”

“That obvious?” Jongho sat down on the couch looking into the sheet of paper with the lyrics, missing the way Hongjoong eyed him. “She’s my best friend Hongjoong, I- I can’t fuck this up and lose her, what if -”

“Can I suggest something?” Jongho’s eyes lifted to meet with Hongjoong’s analytical ones, a simple nod was all he managed to give in response. “Tomorrow you two leave early, you take her back to your place, we’ll talk to Yunho and Mingi and make them find a way to keep her away from the house, you get your roommates out and shoot your shot, but do it properly, she deserves something great after all the time you made her wait.”

Having only Wooyoung, Yeosang and San up his ass about you was nothing compared into having Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Mingi as well. Unlucky for him, Seonghwa easily got one of his roommates’ numbers, since he already had Yunho and Mingi’s, and it was easy to make a group chat which made Jongho almost killed Wooyoung for the nth time every time he saw the group chat name pop up.

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid okay, so san is taking care of the fort with yeo I’m almost done with the food, who is coming to pick us up?

yunho @ please get the baby laid I will, if hwa and joong do it she’ll suspect

mingi @ please get the baby laid she already suspects something is up bc we said she cant come home

yunho @ please get the baby laid yeah, bc your excuse was shit

hongjoong @ please get the baby laid it was a horrible excuse, but since it was mingi she let it slide

seonghwa @ please get the baby laid also bc jjong distracted her with books and a trip to the cafe

wooyoung @ please get the baby laid so I made dinner for nothing?

san @ please get the baby laid ignore him, we ready, we leaving the food in the oven

yeosang @ please get the baby laid yunho don’t forget to grab the chocolate bouquet on your way over!

yunho @ please get the baby laid I wont, I’m on my way!

“Are you cheating on me?” Jongho never locked his phone a put it away as fast as in that moment, making you raise your eyebrows and open your mouth slightly. “Who is she? Is she prettier than me?”

“Of course not, you are the most beautiful person to walk on earth,” that wasn’t a lie in his view, it was also something he would casually drop at you from time to time, you knew that, but still, always surprised you, awakening the butterflies in your stomach you tried to always keep dormant. “I may be an idiot but I’m not that idiot to be cheating on my favorite girl in this world.”

Ever since yesterday Jongho decided to be bolder, to show more of his true intentions to you, his true feelings, and he was loving every hint of pink and red he could see on your face and ears. It almost made him realize that, maybe, this may work. That the others were right and you both felt the same thing, and God he wish it would be true.

“You can’t say shit like that Jjong!”

“Why not? It’s not a lie.”

Maybe, but you playing with my feelings is a problem, you wanted to scream that at him. Cursing him over and over thanks to all the things he had awoken at the same time in you since the day before once you two left Hwa and Joong’s apartment. You couldn’t lie and pretend you weren’t enjoying the attention, not that you liked the fact that Seonghwa and Hongjoong forgot to tell both of you they had a date with tickets they bought a few weeks prior, or even the fact that Mingi said you couldn’t go home until late at night, you knew he probably would have someone over and wouldn’t want you or Yunho to hear him, so you were more than happy when Jongho said his roommates wouldn’t be home and you could stay there as long as you wanted.

You just didn’t expect all the flirting he was doing, but you would never complain.

“People may think something else,” you focused on your drink and the three hard cover books he bought for you, your fingers lingering a little longer on the titles, his eyes focused on you, observing, trying to get any hint you may give him, “besides, I’ve seen some girls looking at you while we were picking up the drinks, one of them looks really pretty and your type.”

It hurt you to say these, but he was your best friend and nothing more could ever happen, or you may lose him. You didn’t care if Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yunho and Mingi kept saying you were just running away, taking the easy way out, the cowards way, the thought of possibly losing Jongho was too much of a risk, you preferred to have him as a friend than nothing at all, all because you couldn’t help yourself on falling for your best friend.

“I don’t want them though,” the form he said it, so nonchalant caught your attention, making you eye him curious, trying to hide the hurt that you felt inside, the idea that he may have someone. You knew he had been with other people before, but he never really introduced you to them. Once you realized that you tried to move on, started dating someone, but there was only one man that made you feel wanted and loved, and that man was sitting in front of you drinking his americano. “I already have someone in mind, it would be mean to get involved with someone if I have another on mind, no?”

The entering of the knife was quick, but the twist was tortuously slow, the final blow being the smile he gave you. The smile you loved so much that you had only seen directed to you, but now he’s using it to talk about someone else, someone that it wasn’t you.

“Who is she?”

“You know her,” he chuckled at your reaction before continuing, “but I don’t think she sees me like that much, although the guys say I’m just over thinking it, that she definitely likes me and -”

“She’d have to be crazy not to like you, baby bear,” your hand reached his over the table, it didn’t matter if your heart bled, all you ever want is to see Jongho happy, even if it’s not with you. “You are one of the most incredible human beings I’ve ever met, whoever has your heart will be forever loved and I envy that.”

At his raise of eyebrows, you quickly realized what you had said and tried to pull your hand away, but his fingers wrapped around yours, intertwining your fingers, your eyes quickly went to the girls you saw talking and eyeing Jongho earlier, finding their eyes on your hands before moving away, making a victorious smile play on your lips.

He was still yours for the time being and that was enough.

“What got you all smiley?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly trying to pull your hand away, but his grip was strong but careful around your hand, just like everything he did regarding you, “baby bear, it’s nothing, can I have my hand back?”

You giggled at the pout he gave you, the puppy eyes staring around you two before resting on you again trying to understand what had happened. Your hands quickly found your drink as so did his. While you couldn’t hold a smile while drinking, he couldn’t help his cute little pout at what you had done.

“Want me to be your wingman?” He questioned after a while, making you eye him confused as his eyes fell on your hand that was enveloped by the warmth of his hands not long prior, a small guilt filing your insides. “That’s why you dropped my hand, right? So, show me who he is, I’ll be nice, I promise.”

“It’s not that Jjong,” you said quickly as soon as he stopped, his eyes had a different shine, one that you had seen at the library a few weeks ago when Seonghwa appeared to ask Jongho to sing to Hongjoong’s song, for a second you thought you had made Jongho jealous, and you felt good for a second, until he wanted to leave and you panicked. The control he had over you was surreal and all you wanted was to take his hand on your and kiss it tenderly in front of everyone, “I dropped your hand because…”

“(y/n) it’s okay, I promise I -”

“I have someone in mind too,” you said it so quickly your mind couldn’t follow through, putting a hand in front of your mouth before focusing on your drink, “he also has no idea and, I’ve been into him for a while now, I tried to make him see it, but apparently he doesn’t see me as anything other than a friend and that’s okay, and since we are in a public place, if the girl you have eyes on sees us, it may ruin it for you so I-”

“Wanna go home?”

“You know I can’t go home.”

“Weren’t we going to mines?” His smile was soft; the shadow of a moment ago disappeared. Jongho was good at hiding, it didn’t take you long to realize that, so you nodded getting your coffee as his hands took your books putting on the bag with some other things you bought at the book section. “We can talk about it when we arrive, will that be okay?”

“We don’t have to Jjong.”

The truth was, you didn’t want to hear him talk about the girl that caught his attention, you wanted to be that girl. Once you finally stood up from the table, his right hand found your left making you gasp in surprise on how hot they were despite the ice americano he was having it. That was one of the things you liked the most about Jongho, how warm he always was, how his warmth would always find you and embrace you, always accompanied by the smell of his cologne. Which was one of the reasons you always loved when fall started, because he would lend you some sweatshirts and jumpers with his smell, even when you didn’t ask, he always had them.

As he guided both of you back to his apartment, you allowed yourself to feel the warmth of his hand and body next you whenever you could, cursing at every heavy wind that hit your face taking his cologne and warmth from you, making you involuntarily hide behind him, making him chuckle every time, until he stopped turning to face you. His perfect cupid’s bow just a few centimeters from you, as the wind hit again, he pulled you closer, your hands going around his waist under the coat he had opened, your face hiding against his chest, his cologne clouding your thoughts, but little did you know the effect that had on him.

Seonghwa and Yunho were right when they said you might say you were into someone depending on the situation, and if you did, this guy it would be him. The fact you couldn’t look him in the eye while saying those things, the reaction you had to the girls that flirted with him earlier noticing your intertwined fingers and leaving, how happy you were at that, how right your hand felt in his, the small hurt he saw in your eyes and face at the thought of Jongho liking someone and this person seeing them together. How could he have been so blind for so long? How could you not see how he acted around you?

“Here,” he said stepping a little away from you, both highly aware of how your hands still lingered on his waist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away, if he could, he would kiss you right then and there, “we can’t have you catching a cold and stopping to hide behind me everything a wind blows, so…,” his hands swiftly took the scarf off his neck placing around your own, covering your lips and nose, only your eyes visible to him as he took your hand back making you both get back into walking, “we almost home, so we won’t be cold for long.”

You wanted to stop him, to make him hug you again, to feel him close again, but all you did was follow his steps as you started to see the outline of his apartment in the distance. Although you knew none of his roommates were gonna be there, you caught yourself craving Wooyoung’s food. Maybe, just maybe, you could stay until they come back and ask him to make you something, that way you could also spend more time to Jongho.

You have been to his apartment multiple times, but something felt different, probably because you finally realized he might get a girlfriend, that you had lost him for good, because no one in their right mind would let him go, only if they were insane. Which was exactly what you were as you noticed he may never be yours because of how much of a coward you were.

As the sound of the lock along with the turning of the lights made you raise your head, you stopped dead on your tracks. There was a fort blanket in the living room, you could smell Wooyoung’s food – although you couldn’t see it – and you noticed as Jongho stopped behind you, his breathing on your ear as one of his hands found your hip and the other your arm squeezing both lightly, making you gasp.

“Surprise,” the chuckle made you wake up and eye him curious, only receiving a small smirk in response as he headed to the kitchen, your steps were cautious, there was no reason for this to be happening, nothing bad had happened. As your feet led you to the living room, you found fairy lights all over the place, the tv on playing an ambient music, “(y/n), come eat!”

Instantly, Wooyoung’s food filled your lungs and you drooled at the thought of what he had made and why he had made dinner. Were any of the boys in a romantic date before you arrived and didn’t have the time to pull it down? But then why would Jongho tell you it was a surprise? As you finally reached the kitchen, you found a banquet at the island, making you scream a little and jump, making Jongho chuckled before start preparing a plate for the both of you before heading back to the living room. The fort blanket already awaiting the both of you, a small memory from the time you two were children.

For a moment, both of you just enjoyed the meal Wooyoung had made, reminding you to thank him, which made Jongho said to also thank San and Yeosang for building the fort. You wanted to ask him then and there what that was all about, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the way he was enjoying the meal, the comforting silence between the two of you. How your knees touched on occasion but none of you had a care in the world if that kept happening, ignoring the electric shocks that ran through both your bodies.

Jongho changed the ambient sound to one of your comfort shows, the coffee table quickly pushed to the side with both plates on top along with two empty bottles of soju. You two were sitting with the backs on the couch, his left arm lazily hugging your shoulders, the tips of his fingers feather like along your arm, sometimes playing with your hair when you rested your head on his shoulder.

Trying not to think how warm he was, how close he was, how drunk on his cologne you were, how deep in love you were with your best friend. As you moved, Jongho swiftly took your legs putting on top of his, holding them in place as him right hand burned your skin despite the jeans you wore. Ignoring how he pulled you closer, only a little more and you were on his lap, his left arm still enveloping you, caressing your left arm and pulling you closer from time to time as your head on occasion would fall a little more. If you only had the courage, you could easily kiss the crook of his neck, his cologne filling your lungs, it wasn’t like you needed anything more to live if you had him.

When the second episode finished your head was already heavy, barely noticing as Jongho tried to untangle the two of you, a groan escaping your lips making him laugh before kissing your temple, being careful as he started to make some distance between you two. What he didn’t understand was that the groan was for nothing more than the idea of having him far away. His warm, cologne, the homey feeling you had with him whenever you two were together. You now realized what you were going to miss the moment he asks out the girl he has eyes on, you were going to lose him, even if he was never actually yours.

You watched as he took the plates on his hands. The third episode had started, but all you could do was stare at the spot Jongho was prior. All you could feel was how your skin burned and body ached to be closer to him again. His flirty demeanor had got to you. All the feelings you fought so greatly every day for the past years to keep low, he brought to the surface.

“(y/n)?” Your eyes turned to the spot Jongho had left, finding a chocolate bouquet before you could see him coming back to the fort. The smile on your lips made his gummy smile becoming more visible. “I was supposed to give this to you on the way out, but couldn’t wait,” his shy smile had returned as you took the chocolate bouquet in your arms, fingers trying to see all the chocolates that were there before eye him with startled eyes, “too much? Too much, right? Okay, sorry I -”

“Jjong, what is all of this?”

“What you mean?”

You sigh putting the bouquet down.

You wanted to say it wasn’t too much, not really, but with everything he was doing, it was. He was playing with your feelings, even if he didn’t know about them. The talk from earlier came back to you, maybe he was trying to make you feel better? Maybe, Mingi, Yunho or Hongjoong had said something to him about your crush on him without saying your name and now he wanted to cheer you up?

A small chuckle left your lips, because that’s definitely something Jongho would do.

That’s one of the reasons you love him so much.

Love.

You were in love with you best friend, all it took was for him to flirt with you openly for a day for you to admit that. You sigh as your eyes returned to the bouquet to focus on him again, a small pout on his lips. He thought you hated it everything he did, which made you hate yourself at that.

“You said surprise, but nothing happened for us to have a movie fort blanket night and the boys not being here…,” you noticed how his head focused on the way your hand enveloped his own, the warmth not only staying in your hand as his eyes found yours. “Jongho, what’s this? If this is yours and the guys’ way of saying it’s okay for the guy I like not to -”

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” His eyes were focused on you, making you suddenly feel self-conscious, trying to shy away but at the same time wanting his attention on you, wanting the way he was looking at you. “I don’t mean on the outside, of course you are beautiful on the outside, but I meant as a whole, you are beautiful, incredible, talented, intelligent, kind, and so much more that I could spend the rest of our lives telling you about it,” you gulped but didn’t move away as Jongho approached you slightly, testing the waters, “I’m sorry it took me too long to notice, I’m sorry for being a coward and take too long to say it, but -”

He cut himself looking to both your hands. You weren’t responsive; you were a statue watching him declare his love for you, he was questioning himself again, all the signs he had seen earlier vanished from his mind, the courage to finally tell you his feelings evaporated like water in a hot day, he started to sulk in his seat, mad at himself, as he felt your hand touch his cheek, an electric current going through his body full speed as he raised his eyes to meet your halfway.

“Jjong, please...”

You couldn’t finish, because you too were a coward.

You loved him, but did he love you too? Was that his way of confessing that he wanted you just as bad you wanted him? For just as long as you wanted him?

“I love you, (y/n),” he saw the moment your breathing stopped, how your hand fell from his face, your warmth going away with it, your eyes a mix of feelings that he couldn’t follow, “you are the one I like (y/n), you are the one I love.”

It was like your brain stopped functioning, your eyes watered and Jongho panicked for a second before holding his hand that was going to wipe your tear away.

“Please don’t joke about this, not about this, Jjong.”

“I could never joke about my feelings for you, (y/n), ever.”

The small smile was all he needed before leaning closer to you, slowly, watching your every reaction, expecting the denial he always thought he’d find if he confessed his love, but instead you met him halfway. A simple and tender touch of lips made both of your bodies combust. Eyes meeting for half a second before he pulls you closer to him again and you obliged to his wants, because kissing him was all you had on your mind since you were thirteen.

His hands were firmly on your hips pulling you to him as you were quick to put each leg on either side of his left leg, your hands messing up his hair, the kiss was hungry, urgent, just like his hands as he explored your back, ass and thighs. None of you cared about breathing, it was an inconvenient at best, you could live without air, but you couldn’t live without feeling each other’s lips anymore.

You whined as his lips disconnected from your mouth finding your jaw, teeth sinking into your skin as you pulled Jongho’s hair, the moan reverberating on your skin. Your whole body ignited at that sound, wanting to hear it more, you needed to hear it more. As you let your body weigh down, you felt his thigh under you, God how you imagined this scenario so many times before. Instinctively you started to move your hips slowly against his thigh, making him stop kissing your neck and look up at you.

One of his hands hugged your thigh, the other firm on your waist as your movements became more preeminent. As your head finally lowered finding his hungry eyes observing your features as you rocked your hips on his thigh, embarrassment quickly flooded you, making you stop and try to move away from him. Instead of letting you, his hand on your thigh found your back and pulled you closer to him.

You could feel the pool in between your legs, the arousal making you uncomfortable, begging you to continue, but something was holding you back, and you couldn’t stare at Jongho in the eyes. As his arm enveloped your waist, his left hand found your face, fingers lightly on your chin making you meet his eyes.

The hunger was still there, the lust, but they were tender, careful, the effect of feeling secured in his embrace along with the eyes of admiration and understanding made your whole body burn as he pulled you closer, locking your lips again. It was calm, almost experimental. Your arms were quick on his shoulders as your hands found the nap of his neck, one of them playing with his hair as the kissed deepened.

It was only when you felt his hands on your hips guide you across his thigh and the friction you felt making you moan in between the kiss, that you forced the break eyeing him curious. The smirk was present, but it wasn’t cocky, it was wholesome.

“Am I dreaming?”

He chuckled as he pulled you closer to him by your hips, moving them so gently on top of his thigh as he flexed them, thanks to the clothes the movement wasn’t very perceptive, also because you buckled your hips up as you felt his muscle against your clothed core, making him chuckle a little more.

“So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Jjong, please…,” his hands again moved your hips against his thigh making you bite your lip but not break eye contact this time. “I may have had a few dreams about you yes.”

“Did I made you feel good on them?” You nodded as his hands pulled your hips down, flexing his thigh as you were now in control of your own hips. “I’ve had them too, you know?” Your half-lidded eyes causing his pants to be an even bigger bothersome as a small moan left your mouth. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Jjong?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and make me feel good, yeah?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

With that his mouth lashed back into yours as he guided your hips across his thighs. As you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open from the stimulation, his mouth found your neck, going all the way down to your chest, open mouth kisses being left on the open cleavage, eyes on you at every single movement he made.

You were so busy riding his thigh that you barely realized his hands were no longer on your hips as one of them went under your shirt, the tips of his fingers tingling against your burning skin as his other hand had a grip on your thigh. The build up on your lower stomach making it harder for you to concentrate as his hands grabbed those both parts of your body, you were sure your waist would have the imprint of his hands.

“Oh God, please-fuck,” your breathing was hollow, your legs ached but you couldn’t stop, it was too close to grasp, your fingers digging onto Jongho’s shoulder as you felt his lips on your neck again, his hand on your thigh pulling it more apart making your whole body weigh rest on his thigh as he flexed it once again, making a cried moan leave your lips, “fuck, Jjong, so good.”

“Let it go sweetheart, I’m here, this is just the first of the night,” you shot your eyes open finding the smirk present and he quickly gave you a peck on the lips, hands back on your hips as he kept making you move them, “use me for now, I wanna see you come undone on my thigh, please.”

It was the ‘please’ that made you lose it.

Your whole body trembled as you pulled Jongho’s face close to you as his hands gently moved your hips running you out of your high as your swollen lips let go of his own. He was glowing under you, his eyes were shining like a stary night and all you wanted was for this to never end, if it were a dream so you would never wake up.

As his hands came back into roaming your body, you came to your senses.

You had just cum by riding his thigh.

He saw the small panic look in your eyes and pulled you closer to him, kissing your lips as he lifted you up, his right leg quickly joining the left under you as you straddled him properly. Once again pulling you down on him, making you feel his bulge under you, making you both moan before making eye contact.

“This is real.”

“As real as it can be sweetheart,” he pulled you closer again kissing you tenderly as you rocked your hips against the outline of his cock, a moan escaping both your mouths as you allowed your weight down on his lap. “Are you sure you wanna keep going?”

“Do you?”

“I asked you first,” his small smile was back as you backed away from him, although you never stopped moving your hips, feeling him getting harder and harder under you, closing his eyes trying to control his breathing making you smile. “Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t keep going unless you tell me you want me to.”

“I thought I said I wanted you to make me feel good, baby bear.”

You smile as your hands went to the back of his head playing with his hair pulling slightly making him groan, your smile widening at that as his hands gripped your ass squeezing it harshly making you moan.

“Guess I shall make your dreams come true then.”

“Please do.”

He smiled as in a swift move he turned you both and put you on the couch, your hips on the edge with him between your legs. Although you said it was okay, his eyes still lingered on your face as he unbuttoned your jeans sliding them away from your body before tossing them somewhere in the fort. Your thighs shut as his hands went to your knees, gently putting force to see if you were having second thoughts.

Why was he so thoughtful and careful?

You decided that after this, was your time to make him feel good, but right now you wanted his head between your thighs. At that you spread your legs, a mix of embarrassment and confident took hold of your body as you watched him take in your soaked panties. His eyes finding yours once again and you nodded, feeling the tingle in the base of your stomach coming back.

His fingers taking the last piece of fabric between you and his mouth, ever so gently, still watching every single one of your reactions. The truth was, neither of you could believe this was happening, it all felt like a dream, but it was real. It was real and Jongho would do his best for this to be the best night of your life.

As your panties finally met the ground, his eyes focused on your dripping cunt as you held the urge to close your legs, but he noticed the twitch, his focused was on you as he slowly and gently held your legs open, his lips kissing all the way to your left knee to your mid-thigh, before closing in on your hip, looking at you one last time, finding pure lust in your eyes, making him smile as his lips finally met your throbbing clit.

The gasp came in sync with the jolt of your hips, but Jongho was faster holding them down with a smirk that made you roll your eyes. He was having fun with all your reactions; you couldn’t pretend you weren’t enjoying it as well seeing the smudge grin on his face. Before you could say anything, his lips found your clit again, but this time, kitty licks were added to it, making you squirm a little as he held your hips down.

He licked a long stripe at your dripping cunt before starting to suck on your clit, making your back arch as you moaned loudly, your right hand quickly finding his hair pulling it harshly as you were still a little dazed from your previous orgasm. Your hips quickly moving trying to build more friction as Jongho lifted your left leg over the couch, holding you open with his right side as his left hand left your hips, one finger quickly prying at your entrance as he sucked in on your clit.

Once his face left your cunt, two fingers quickly entered you, as he curled them inside, a small kiss was left on your clit making you jolt and whine before forcing his face back into your throbbing bud of nerve as his fingers nimbly worked you up to your second orgasm of the night. You left hand finding your breast and squeezing it just enough to help you build the pressure.

“Fuck Jjong, keep going like this, fuck!”

“You like my fingers or my mouth better?”

As you didn’t answer he slowed down his movements making you groan.

“Both, fuck, please! I can’t choose, Jjong, please, I like both!”

“Good girl, so, cum on them, please sweetheart.”

Your hand pulled more of his hair making the groan reverberate through your body from your clit. God how he knew how to use his mouth and fingers! As you felt your second orgasm coming your legs started to shake and Jongho picked up the pace, his fingers curling inside of you are he went back to suck on your clit.

You cursed before a screamed moan leave your lips, legs trembling as your whole body felt heavy, limbs falling into the couch as he helped you out of your high. Closing your legs gently before getting up and to get you some water and a wet cloth. As he did that, your eyes found the tent in his pants, holding his wrist, his attention quickly falling back on you.

“Where you going?”

“Getting you some water and something to clean you up.”

“Are we already done?”

He smiled at your question. You were clearly fucked out, and yet you forced your legs out of the couch, eyes focused on him.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

He squatted in front of you, his lips and nose glistering with your juice, and God you wanted to feel them again, and so you leaned in catching him by surprise at first before he cages you against the couch, your legs opening again as stood there in between them, kissing you like his life depended on it, while his hands held you like you were glass. A small peck was left on his lips as one of your hands held his face, the thumb lingering on his perfectly swollen cupid’s bow lips, a smile forming in yours.

“I don’t want this to end, please Jjong, please I need you, I need all of you.”

“Fuck-” he murmured under his breath as he looked down at your cunt, at the mess you had made on the couch, the mess he helped create. His eyes lingered on the tent in his pants, how his hard leaking cock was already painfully present and all he could think about was you and how you’d feel around his cock. “I’m not fucking you on the couch.”

“Then take me to your room,” you caged him with your legs on his waist and arms on his neck, his laugh brought a light smile to your lips, God you loved that man, you loved every little piece of him, and you wanted him so badly right now. “Stop being such a gentleman, I know you want this as much as I do.”

“One of us need to keep our minds clear.”

“C’mon baby bear, please!” You whined with a pout making him smile as his eyes focused on your face, his hands lazily on your thigh and waist, you knew you had him. “I’ll be good, promise.”

“I just still think I’m dreaming?, I guess?”

“You are not,” you laughed kissing him gently on the lips, feeling him wrapping his arm around your waist as grip your thigh tighter, “you know how I know this isn’t a dream?”

“How, oh my oh mighty?”

You hit his shoulder making you both laugh before play with his hair, pulling it out of his face, a small smile plastered on both your lips.

“Because this is so much better than any other dream I had of us.”

At the raising of his eyebrows, you giggled pulling him in for another kiss.

“So, we never actually had sex on any of your dreams?”

“That’s classified information, only to be revealed after the act.”

You laughed loudly as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head, but gasping at the sudden yank he gave to your body, making both arms and legs hold him tighter, one hand firmly on your thigh as his other arm, held you by the waist making you giggle as you both left the fort heading towards his room. Your lips finding his neck kissing every single space you could, feeling his fingers sink more into your skin.

As he let you on to the bed you finally let go of him, his hands quick to take off your shirt as yours worked swiftly to remove his own shirt and pants, and soon, the only piece of clothing either of you had was the boxers he was wearing. Precum staining the fabric already stretch out because of how hard Jongho was. Your eyes fixed on his boxers, he was thick, a little longer than usual, but thick.

You barely noticed his fingers finding your jaw until the moment he lifted your head to face him, a smirk plastered on his lips as he noticed your eyes lingering on his body. You had seen him without a shirt before, you know he is built, he just preferred to hide his muscles and you didn’t mind that one bit. If not showing his physic he already had a line of women and men after him, if they could see him like this, it would multiply by the hundred.

No, this was all for you.

He was yours.

He loved you.

Just like you loved him.

Your eyes fall to his boxers again with a questioning look, making him chuckle before taking those out. If you thought your mouth was watering, now it had truly become a waterfall. He was a little longer than average, but he was so thick. You reached your hand to touch him, but his hand quickly stopped you.

“C’mon Jjong, let me help.”

A simple nod and you started to work on him, the precum quickly being used as part of lubricant as your lips found the red leaking head, a small kiss left there, just like he had done with your clit on the couch not long ago. Your knees quickly finding the ground as you were quick to lick his shaft, the moans that left his mouth only igniting the fire inside you.

Your mouth and hand worked skillfully on him, his hand tangled to your hair helping guide the pace, every so often you’d look up only to meet him with his eyes closed and mouth open, small moans leaving his lips as you worked him up. A smirk always present as you noticed the reaction of your body to your hands and mouth on his cock.

“(y/n),” he was breathless and although you raised your head towards him, your hands didn’t stop moving, “fuck, your mouth is so perfect, you are perfect.”

You took him into your mouth once again. You knew he was close. He started to thrust into you, controlling more of your head movements, he wasn’t gonna last long. You felt him empty himself on your throat the same moment the most beautiful moan you ever hear came out of his lips, you took it all in, swallowing quickly as he pulled you in for another kiss.

Your legs were still trembling from earlier, but it didn’t matter as held your body close to him.

His taste on your mouth, your taste on his.

“Jjong, please.”

You whined against his lips as he nodded guiding you to the bed. The mattress sinking under you as you laid on your back, your legs open so he could fit in between them, his cock already getting hard again as he pumped himself up.

“You sure about this?” You nodded as he reached for the drawer, already knowing he was looking for a condom, the change in expression was all you needed to know. He didn’t have one. “Fuck, (y/n) I-”

“I trust you.”

You pulled his face to you, kissing him gently before locking your legs around him.

“Are you sure?” You just nodded before he kissed you again. “I’ll pull it out.”

In all honesty all you wanted was him inside of you, to feel him fully, nothing else mattered.

You felt his tip at your entrance, his eyes went to you once again, doubt filling them up.

“Jongho, I’m not a virgin, I’ve had sex before.”

Despite the words, your tone was serene. You knew him well enough to know he was scared to hurt you, the thing was, you knew he never would.

“But this is your first time with me, and I intend to make it the most pleasurable to you, I don’t care about anything else but that.”

His lips found yours once again. As his tongue slipped into your mouth you felt him stretching you out, a moan leaving your lips as he moved to kiss your neck. Slowly, every inch of you was touched by Jongho. You had never felt fuller in your life. As you opened your eyes, his were careful watching your reactions.

“You can move,” you bit your bottom lip as his hips started to move back and forth, you could feel every inch of him. Slowly he picked up the pace, thrusting into you, hitting your cervix every time he thrusted in too deeply, but you couldn’t care less, especially not when his fingers found your clit, circle movement making you moan in pleasure as his thrusts gotten sloppier. “Fuck, Jjong, ye-yes! Please, right fucking there, oh fuc-fuck-fuck!”

“You are so tight, so perfect for me, taking me so well sweetheart,” his lips found your again and both hands held your waist again holding you in place, “fuck I won’t last long.”

“Me neither, fuck!”

You bit down his shoulder, your nails digging into his back, the scratch marks were probably gonna be visible for quite some time. Jongho hid his face on your neck biting down as his thrusts got deeper, erratic, neither of you would last long. His thrusts quickly slowed down, but before you could complain, his hand was back into your clit, circle quick movements as his thrusts kept being sloppier. He wanted you to come first.

At that you held your breasts, pinching your nipples as you allowed yourself to feel everything he was giving you. As you clenched even more around him, both cussed and moan loudly. The third wave finally hit you as one of your hands squeezed your boob, while the other found his forearm that was moving your clit, hold it to a stop.

With a small nod he pulled out, hand already pumping himself as he watched you underneath him, like he had always wanted you to be, like he had always dreamed. White stripes of hot cum soon were splattered around your torso, one hitting high enough to reach your chin, making the two of you laugh as Jongho collapsed on your side.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Before you could say anything, he got up heading to the bathroom. You could hear water running before steps could be heard. His hands worked quickly and carefully to clean you up, taking extra care with the overstimulated areas. You took your time to observe him.

You were definitely lucky to have him.

The giggle that escaped your lips making his eyes snap at you, a tint of red appearing on his ears as he put the towel away, ignoring your giggles as he went to grab you two a bottle of water returning to the room, finding you in the same position, a small smile plastered on your lips. All you did was point to the side of the bed with your head and he smiled pulling the covers, as he knew you two would soon feel cold.

His back to the mattress as your leg went over his. His arm stretched out as your head laid on his shoulder, the tips of his fingers caressing your bare skin light enough to tickle at points. Your arm going towards his neck, a small caress on his cheek before he faced you. A silent conversation. Realization of what had happened. The dream was real. You two liked each other. Loved each other.

“I love you, baby bear.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed your forehead pulling you in closer, making you giggle. “You are everything I could ever need or want, thank you for choosing me.”

“I’ll always choose you, Jjong.”

A small simple kiss, but full of meaning was the last exchange that happened between you two before you two fell asleep.

As the sun entered the room, you groaned stretching your sore muscles, realizing an arm was around your waist, you were naked and not in your room. Your head quickly snapped remembering what had happened the night before, finding a sleepy Jongho hugging you like his life depended on it. A small smile took form on your lips as everything came back to you, making you realize it really wasn’t a dream.

“I’d stop moving if I was you,” he’s hoarse morning voice made an electric current flow throughout your body and reach your core, you knew your body was sabotaging you, making you hyper aware of the growing hard on Jongho had up your ass, how his hand was so close to your breasts, “you know, morning wood is not fun…”

You laughed, receiving a groan from Jongho as he pulled you even closer to him, hiding his nose on the nape of your neck. The small tap on his arm around your waist was enough for him to loosen up his grip, but before he could complain you were facing him, hyper aware of his hard cock pressing your lower belly. His questioning eyes at your smirk was everything it took for him to shut up.

“Luckly, you have someone to help you with that…”

Your hand swiftly moved in between your bodies finding Jongho’s hard cock, playing with the tip, observing his face change expressions as you worked on his morning wood.

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, but I want to.”

Your body moved up and away just enough so his cock was at your entrance, your hand holding it still as your leg went above his hips, allowing you to grind on his cock, wetting it on your own dripping cunt. Both moaning lowly as his hand fell on your hip, your hand quickly putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Fuck- have I told you, you are perfect already?”

“I could use the reassurance.”

You giggled as you felt him enter you, he almost stopped at your expression. You were still sore from last night and he was thicker than normal, but you held him in place, nodding as he kept pulling inch by inch inside of you, until you were full, staying like for a while, just until you felt adjusted to his size, feeling him twitch inside you from time to time, clenching around him whenever that happened making you both laugh at that.

“Jjong?” He hummed, eyes picking up on you as you called his name. “Can you please, move?”

“Will you be okay?”

“Mhm, promise, just move, please.”

As his length moved slowly in and out of you, the moans that escaped your mouths at every breath, yours considerably louder than his, as he also took the time to kiss along your neck as your hands messed up his hair even more.

This time it wasn’t rushed, not that last night had been, but this time it was different, more intimate. You could feel your orgasm arriving, you knew he was close as to how he grabbed your hips at every thrust.

You two were so into the moment, that you barely noticed how three voices entered the apartment, how they were quick to move things around, or how steps started to grow closer to the rooms.

“GOD FORSAKEN FU- SHUT THE FUCKING DOOR NEXT TIME!”

You both stopped at the exact moment Wooyoung’s screams reverberated through the walls of the apartment. Jongho quick to cover you up the best he could before eyeing the door, he could see shadows on the wall, he knew the guys were waiting for him to tell that it was okay to pass to their rooms.

Although he panicked, you couldn’t help but laugh, making him laugh as well before giving you a small kiss before slipping out of you, making you whine at the loss of not only his warmth temperature, but also the emptiness you felt inside. Jongho quickly picked up a random sweatpant and headed towards the door, looking at you for a second before smiling and shutting the door behind him, only to find all three of his roommates with shit eating grins on their faces, despite what had just happened.

Before any of them could say anything, Jongho lifted his finger with a death stare, more specifically directed to Wooyoung who had the cockiest smile the youngest had ever seen. With an annoyed sigh Jongho pointed to his room with his head before opening his mouth, words most directly to Wooyoung than any of the other two.

“Shut it! I don’t wanna hear it!” Wooyoung was the first to try to say something after Jongho’s words, but San quickly eyed him as Yeosang pushed him further on the hallway putting a hand in front of wooyoung’s mouth, leaving both Choi’s behind. The youngest however looked at San with a soft smile as both eyed the door to Jongho’s room before speaking again. “You were right, I was an idiot, okay? Just give us a few minutes.”

“You know Wooyoung won’t let you live it out of it, right?”

Both laughed at San’s words knowing it to be true.

“He can say whatever he wants man, I honestly only care about her, if she doesn’t mind his antics, I couldn’t care less.”

“I’m happy for you, Jjong.”

San said with a small smile, a hand rested on Jongho’s shoulder as he passed the youngest heading to his own bedroom. With a sigh, he opened the door to his room finding you looking at the door with a small smile before tapping on the bed, making him laugh and take a few steps before you stop him pointing to his sweats before you speak again.

“No clothes allowed in, c’mon, take those off.”

“You are a menace, you know that?” His sweats were soon on the floor as he joined you in bed, holding you close in his arms. “I think they can control Wooyoung for like thirty minutes.”

“So, we better make the best of those thirty minutes.”

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