#I went to sleep last night with this feeling

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

fine line ── l. hs

↳ summary ── heesung's got two problems: (1) he can't sleep, and (2) he's addicted to the 1AM combo of instant ramyeon and coffee milk from his favorite convenience store around the corner. the only thing more consistent than his insomnia? his nightly visits for his beloved snacks (and maybe to glare at the new night shift employee, too). & pstt, spoiler alert: you're the said new night shift employee. and you don't know what's worse: his weird food choices or his apparent superiority complex. either way, if you have to watch him inhale another bowl like it's his last meal ever, you might lose it. but hey, you know what they say—there’s a fine line between love and hate...

↳ pairing ── heeseung x f!reader

↳ genre ── idol!heeseung, e2l!au, strangers to lovers!au, convenience store worker!reader || angst hehe, crack, eventual fluff

↳ ✎ᝰ 15.4k (gasp, she kept it under 20k????)

↳ contains ── so much bickering and banter, reader is kinda sassy and a lil crazy, heeseung is a lil weirdo at first, CRACK (this entire fic revolves around EXTRA HELL FIRE RAMEN PLS), angst, both heeseung & reader can't communicate their feelings & are stubborn as hell, tension tension tension! , deep conversations about life choices lol, cursing

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── IM ALIVE (barely) ! i survived a global expedition (one 12 hr flight) just to come back and face an apocalypse (i got a bug infection and a cold) but dragged myself out of my deathbed (my comfy bed) to finish editing this because i told yall i would and bc i felt bad ghosting everyone for a week LOL apologies (if anyone cares,,,pls tell me u do or i'll cry rn) anyways i hope yall enjoy this one,,,this one was fun to write, it felt very sitcom-y and was lowkey based off of backstreet rookie vibes (only bc it's set in a convenience store). i hope you all enjoy & pls let me know what you think :') thank u for the support & love always <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

It’s simple, really. 

Customer service voice on, a smile plastered on your face, greet the customer, scan the item, take their money, bag said item, throw in a half-hearted ‘Have a good night!’

And repeat. 

Well, most of the time. 

Occasionally, there’s the fun of kicking out a few drunk teenagers looking for a bathroom that you definitely don’t have (yes you do). But otherwise, this graveyard shift at your local corner convenience store? 

Total dream job. 

You get paid—as in actual, legit money—to sit behind a counter, scan snacks, and feast on your personal holy trinity of microwavable cheesy ramen, peach juice, and potato chips. What could possibly go wrong? 

At least, that’s how the manager sold it during your interview. And by interview, you mean the three-minute conversation that went something like: 

“Can you work nights?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool, you’re hired.” 

No background check, no follow-up questions, not even a glance at your resume. A broke college student with insomnia and schedule flexibility? You were the perfect candidate. 

And it’s not like you’re picky. You needed cash, and this seemed like a pretty solid deal. What can you say? College is expensive, and someone’s gotta fund your caffeine addiction and deeply specific (and yet completely necessary, you would argue) habit of playing at every single claw machine game you stumble across. 

So yeah. Easy work.

At least, that's what you thought.

Because on the night of your first shift, exactly at 1:09AM, the doorbell gives its friendly little ding, and in walks...something.

Someone?

Whatever it is, it's a walking shadow. Oversized hoodie. Baggy pants. A baseball cap shoved under the hood. A black face mask covering whatever’s left of his identity. You think it’s either a ninja, a celebrity in disguise, or—more likely—a vampire who hasn’t seen sunlight since the Joseon era (you’re leaning more towards vampire).

But more than the wild theories running around in your head, something else piques your curiosity.

Because unlike the other weirdos that usually shuffle in at these ungodly hours, this one moves with true purpose. He beelines straight to the ramen aisle, snags something off the top shelf (most likely the ultra-spicy soup one because, of course, you already have the shelves memorized), and then grabs a bottle of coffee milk from the cold drinks section without even so much as glancing at it.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. Like he’s done this a thousand times before and is now on autopilot mode.

You watch, intrigued. And then—horrified.

Because who in the right mind pairs volcanic spicy ramen with coffee milk? Is that even legal?

You’re barely recovering from your own appalled thoughts before he’s already at the counter, placing his borderline apocalyptic snack combination on the counter in front of you with the same eerie precision he has.

You fail to keep your poker face on when you scan his items, your face scrunching up in disgust.

“Uh,” you shake it off, forcing yourself back to reality, “That’ll be—”

But before you can even finish your sentence, he’s already fishing out the exact amount—three crisp bills—out his back pocket and holds it out for you.

There’s a beat of silence.

You stare down at the money in his hand for a second too long, suddenly convinced this guy practices his convenience store interactions in the mirror or something.

When you don’t show any further signs of moving, he eventually gives up, placing the money on the counter with a quiet sigh, grabbing his ramen and coffee milk, and striding off to the self-service corner like he personally owns the place.

All of this. Without. A single. Thank you.

Wow. Okay. So tonight’s customer is potentially a vampire with a side gig as a professional jerk. Good to know.

You internally scoff at the entire interaction, but—unfortunately for you—you can’t look away. Because this guy? This walking shadow?

You’re weirdly intrigued. Like when you accidentally click on a pimple-popping video and immediately regret it, but still end up watching five more.

It’s a curse.

Out of the corner of your eye (because obviously you’re not staring, you’re just…hyper-aware of your surroundings), you watch him execute his ramen-and-coffee-milk routine with the precision of a man possessed.

Step one: Hot water in the ramen cup.

Step two: Ramen into the microwave.

Step three: Wait for exactly one beep before yanking the microwave door open with alarming speed, as if he's scared to even give the second beep the chance to ring.

Step four: Peel the lid back in slowly—so painfully slow you're about to march over there and do it yourself.

Step five: Insert the straw into the coffee milk—of course, perfectly right in the center. Bullseye.

Honestly? It's all kind of impressive. Horrifying, but impressive.

And, of course, just when you think you might finally look away, because out of sight, out of mind—he slides onto one of the bar stools by the window, right in your direct line of vision. The perfect spot for you to get a pristine view of his back, which, spoiler alert, is completely unhelpful in your personal mission in trying to see even a glimpse of what this guy looks like.

Maybe if you squint hard enough, you can make out his face in the reflection of the store window. Maybe. Just maybe—

Nope.

All you catch is a brief glimpse of his eyes—barely visible beneath his excessive hoodie and hat combination. Even his mask stays glued to his face and you wonder how he even plans on eating his outrageous meal.

But even so, you still can’t look away. What even is that color? And why can’t you look away?

Whatever. It’s just eyes. Totally normal. Everyone has them. Not noteworthy at all.

Except it is.

Because you catch yourself still squinting, hoping the glare of the fluorescent lighting against the window hides your not so subtle mission from him. You’re probably risking retinal damage at this point with how hard you’re trying to decode this guy’s entire identity from literally just his eyes.

You catch another short glimpse of his eyes as he shuffles in his seat and just as you’re trying to piece together why his eyes look oddly familiar—

He looks up.

His eyes catch yours in the glaring reflection of the store's windows, and you freeze.

Abort mission. Now.

You cough—loudly, dramatically—and your eyes immediately dart elsewhere, your hands shuffling on the discounted candy bars displayed on the counter top, pretending to look busy and silently praying he didn't catch you looking for too long.

When enough time passes by, you risk another quick glance back at him, to see he’s now digging into his ramen, head tucked so low you can’t even see his eyes anymore. He’s gone full turtle mode.

You lift a brow.

Weirdo.

A weirdo with an ego. Slurping and sipping away at his crime-against-humanity meal as if he owns the building.

Maybe he's mute. Or a people-hater. Or a cryptid who thrives on ramen and coffee milk instead of human interaction. Maybe I'm being pranked?

You shrug it off, because no matter how hard you try to figure him out, one thing is glaringly obvious: he does not want to be bothered.

And you're not sure if that makes him more intriguing or more annoying.

You’re in the clear. At least, you think you’re in the clear. 

After your first weird encounter with Mr. No-Name-No-Face—spicy ramen enthusiast and potential vampire—you’ve begrudgingly adjusted to his nightly visits. 

He shows up at 1:09AM like clockwork, grabs his neon red Extra Spicy Hellfire Ramen (yes, that’s the real brand name, and yes, your soul dies a little every time you even have to think about it), and parks himself in the window seat across from your counter like it’s a Michelin-star ramen bar—and not your humble convenience store with a health inspection rating of B+ (don’t ask). 

By night three, you’ve downgraded him from potential murderer to mildly annoying ramen connoisseur. 

By night four, you’ve decided he’s your own personal karma sent by the universe. 

It starts off with the door chime. You don’t even flinch. 1:09AM. Right on schedule. 

You don’t look up from the colorful juice pouches you’re restocking. You’re halfway through creating a perfectly symmetrical pyramid display—color-coded, of course—because, clearly, you’ve peaked as a human being. 

Behind you, footsteps head straight to the ramen aisle. And sure enough, you peek over your shoulder, and there he is: drowning in black hoodie layers, hood up, mask on, the patron saint of please don’t perceive me. Same old routine, same old—

Wait. 

He freezes, mid-reach for his usual ramen on the top shelf, his hand hovering in the air. And then, horrifyingly, he turns. 

And looks directly at you. 

Your face heats up—probably not as red as the hellfire ramen he was about to grab, but it’s close, you imagine. You find yourself clutching onto the random juice pouch in your hand as if it’s your lifeline before you clear your throat, “Uh—is something wrong?” 

He glances from you and back to the shelf in front of him, and for the first time in…ever, he speaks. 

Gasp. 

So we can cross mute off the list. 

“They’re out of my flavor,” he says. His voice is deep, which isn’t surprising to you, given he’s the literal human embodiment of the color black, but it’s also serious. So unnecessarily serious that you almost laugh. 

Almost. 

Because his tone isn’t just serious—it’s accusatory. As if you personally raided the ramen aisle and hid his favorite flavor for entertainment. 

Excuse me? 

Your mouth opens then closes, flopping like a fish that now deeply regrets every life choice. The fire rising in your chest is about two seconds away from erupting into a full-blown lecture on how supply chains work, but you keep it in, deciding getting fired on the fourth day probably doesn’t look good on your resume. 

Instead, you plaster on a flat, unimpressed look. 

“Uh..yeah, it looks like it,” you deadpan, inching closer to where he’s standing to investigate the shelf. 

Leaning up on your toes, you scan the shelf for any hidden Hellfire cups, hoping some miracle will save you from continuing this interaction. 

Nope. It’s empty alright. Emptier than your will to entertain his dramatics. 

“Tragic,” you glance back at him, strategically avoiding eye contact, and settle on offering a shrug. “There are plenty of other flavors. Maybe try…the regular spicy?” 

You grab the flavor below his usual one and hold it up as an olive branch, but he cuts you off with a tone that even convinces you that you’re deranged. 

“No.” 

You blink. 

“No?” 

“It has to be Extra Spicy Hellfire.” 

You blink again. 

You wait for the punchline.

It never comes. 

This man is dead serious. 

You’re standing in the middle of a fluorescent-lit ramen aisle, at your minimal wage night-shift job, at 1:12AM on a random Tuesday, and this guy is dead serious. 

And he’s staring at you like this is a life-or-death situation. And judging from the look in his eyes, it’s looking like you’re facing death. 

But then, you really notice his eyes. And for a split second—just a split second—you’re derailed from your rising anger. 

They’re brown. But not just any brown—the kind of brown that makes poets write bad metaphors. Cinnamon swirls. Autumn leaves. Possibly falling in love in a Hallmark Christmas movie. 

But then you blink again, hard, snapping yourself out of whatever ridiculous moment your sleep-deprived brain just conjured. This is not the time. You’re literally staring at, like, three inches of this guy’s face. 

And he’s a jerk. Get a grip, Y/N. 

“Uh, yeah,” you clear your throat, trying your best to sound professional through your disbelief. “Sorry. We probably put in our shipment request late. But I’m sure you won’t implode by going one night without it?” 

You tack on a small laugh and smile at the end of your sentence, hoping to lighten the mood. 

He does not smile back. 

Not even a flicker. 

Instead, he continues to stare at you like you just suggested he eat plain, untoasted bread for the rest of his life. 

You want to bury yourself into a hole. Maybe getting fired on the fourth day won’t be so bad afterall. 

“I’m sure the regular spicy one is just as good. What’s the worst that could happen?” you offer weakly when he makes no sign of saying anything, and you really hope this guy doesn’t explode in front of you—mainly because you’re not confident in your own ability to explain that situation to your manager. 

“I’m not risking it,” he finally deadpans. 

Your jaw drops slightly. 

“You’re not ris—” you hesitate, debating whether you want to ruin your night further. But you’ve come this far. “You’re being…serious?” 

The question lined with your clear judgement hangs in the air between you two, and no amount of fake customer service can mask the expression of disapproval on your face. 

His eyes narrow at you as he scoffs, “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Oh, I understand,” you tilt your head, your annoyance slowly reaching a boiling point, throwing all professionalism out the window. All you wanted was to enjoy your juice-sorting in peace, not babysit this walking ramen manifesto. “I understand that you’re just picky.” 

At that, his eyes flash—sharp, unreadable. “I’m not picky.” 

“You won’t eat a perfectly fine ramen just because it’s not named after the ninth circle of hell.” 

Silence. 

He stares at you with the intensity of someone about to write a strongly worded online review. 

Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, he finally mutters, “Fine. I’ll take the mild one.” 

You blink at the flavor in your hand—the one that’s clearly labeled in giant, blazing-red, font: Regular Spicy. Then you look back at him. 

“You mean regular spicy.” 

“Right. Whatever. Same thing.” 

He grabs the ramen cup from your hand and stalks off to grab his usual coffee milk, leaving you stranded in the middle of the ramen aisle, questioning every life choice that brought you here. 

Before you’re about to mentally spiral, his voice cuts through the store. 

“Hello?” 

Oh. Right. Your job. 

You scramble back to behind the register, quickly moving your hands to ring him up and get him out of here as soon as possible. 

He hands you his three crisp bills, and before you hand him his glorified ramen and godforsaken coffee milk, you hesitate, pulling them back slightly. He freezes, his hands hanging in the air between you two. 

“You know,” you narrow your eyes as you look up at him, “some people would say thank you for the recommendation.” 

His brow arches—or at least, you think it does. It’s hard to completely tell under his stupid hat. Then he fires back—

“And some people wouldn’t forget to restock the ramen.” 

Your mouth falls open, your words failing you as he grabs his goods from your hands, heading to the self-serve station to continue his nightly noodle worship as if he didn’t just verbally body-slam you. 

Yeah. It’s going to be a long night. 

Life is unpredictable, uncontrollable, and chaotic. 

Lee Heeseung’s life? Heeseung’s life is that times ten, with an extra sprinkle of what-is-even-happening-anymore? 

Between back-to-back choreo sessions, recording tracks at hours that shouldn’t legally exist, and navigating the emotional and physical minefield of constant shows, interviews, photoshoots—you name it—nothing about his life is consistent. 

However—

There are two things—two sacred constants—that keep Heeseung from spiraling into total madness. 

The first? 

Insomnia. 

Not by choice, of course. He doesn’t love being awake at 3AM, staring at his ceiling and waiting for sleep to take over. But it’s a loyal companion, like a stray cat that keeps showing up at your house no matter how hard you try to shoo it away. Heeeseung’s insomnia is always there for him, night after night, ensuring he gets exactly only four hours of sleep—with a side of existential dread. 

And the second? 

Extra Spicy Hellfire ramen and coffee milk. 

Yes, it’s a weird combo. 

No, he doesn’t care. 

This unlikely pairing is Heeseung’s personal slice of heaven he can actually control and choose in a life otherwise ruled by the rest of the world. 

Every night, he drags himself to his favorite corner store, grabs his fiery ramen and sweet, creamy coffee milk, and plants himself in the window seat to enjoy his culinary masterpiece in peace. 

Then—and only then—can Heeseung catch a few hours of sleep, the spice-induced euphoria lulling himself into a temporary state of calm. 

Does he have a problem? Absolutely. 

Is he addicted? Without a doubt. 

Does he care? Not in the slightest. 

Because in a world that demands he change at the drop of a hat, this little routine of his is the one thing that stays consistent. 

Well, except for last night. 

Because last night, someone dared to disrupt the cosmic balance of his existence. Someone failed to restock his precious Extra Spicy Hellfire ramen. 

He had stared at the empty spot on the shelf, the betrayal hitting him like a personal attack. He went home last night only a quarter satisfied from the mild spicy ramen he had settled with. 

And the worst part? 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the someone responsible. 

Now here he is, stepping into the corner store at 1:09AM, ready to make up for last night’s disappointment of an outcome. 

Heeseung steps into the brightly lit store, the familiar ding ringing behind him as he enters right on time. He continues his familiar route to the ramen aisle, but not before shooting a quick glance from below his hat toward the counter. 

Yup, there she is. 

You. 

The new graveyard shift employee. The one who dared to challenge his sacred ramen ritual and stared at him like he was a walking poor life choice. 

You’re here again. This is five nights in a row. Heeseung wonders if you 1) are insane, 2) have no life, or 3) are purely here just to spite him. 

But tonight, he’s prepared. His focus is razor-sharp, his mission clear: Extra Spicy Hellfire and coffee milk. Nothing will get in the way tonight. 

Heeseung looks up, exhaling in relief when he spots the fiery red packaging of the Extra Spicy Hellfire sitting innocently on the shelf. There you are. 

He grabs the cup (with too much excitement that it should honestly embarrass him), cradling it like a long-lost love, before he makes his way to snag his coffee milk. 

Perfect combo. Perfect routine. Perfect night. 

Except—

Except, of course, you’re watching him. Again. 

He doesn’t even need to look up to know it. He can feel your judging eyes burning into the back of his head like you did the other night—like you’re seconds away from filing a report against his own taste buds. 

He doesn’t get it—what’s so strange about ramen and coffee milk? It’s not like he’s dipping the noodles in it. Why you’ve made it your personal mission to antagonize him, he has no idea, but it’s really throwing him off his ramen zen. 

Heeseung sighs to himself as he steps up to the counter, making sure you hear the sheer misery in this voice—because, of course, fate has cursed him with yet another encounter with you.

“So…do you actually enjoy these together, or are you just trying to destroy your stomach lining?” 

He freezes. Great, you’re talking. So much for a perfect night. 

He adjusts his cap to peer at you and that same unimpressed, judgmental look sitting on your face as you lean against the counter behind you. “What’s wrong with my choices?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up, “What's right with them? This combo screams, ‘I have unresolved issues I’m trying to boil away with spicy and sugar.’” 

Okay, ouch. 

Heeseung narrows his eyes, trying to ignore the weird pinch in his chest at how quickly you read him, whether he likes to admit it or not. 

“I like them. That’s all that matters,” his voice drips with a certain sharpness, hoping the edge in his tone is enough to make you back off. 

You, however, seem entirely unfazed.

“Just trying to help,” you shrug as you scan his items, “looking out for your poor taste buds.” 

For a moment, Heeseung considers firing back, but then his gaze catches yours for a millisecond too long as you take his cash and, immediately, he’s wondering—for the hundredth time—if you know. 

Do you recognize him? 

The thought has been gnawing at him since the first time he stepped into this store and saw you sitting there five days ago. Sure, he’s got his identity pretty much concealed under his borderline clinically insane hat-mask-hoodie combo, but still—most people at least give him a double take, a lingering glance. Something. 

But you? Nothing. No flash of recognition. No curiosity. Nothing to indicate you know you’re talking to Lee Heeseung—part idol, part insomniac, 100% ramen enthusiast. 

And for some reason, that both annoys and intrigues him. 

“Thanks for your concern,” Heeseung mumbles dryly, quickly grabbing the ramen cup and cold drink from your hands. 

“No problem,” you chirp just as sarcastically, an annoying smile on your face. “Enjoy your…uh, gourmet meal.”

Heeseung throws you one last glare before shaking his head and stalking off to the self-serve station. He puts the cup down on the counter with a little more force than necessary and pours boiling water over the noodles, glaring into the steam as your voice rings in his head. 

What’s wrong with ramen and coffee milk? He scowls. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I definitely don’t have unresolved issues. 

But as he steals a glance back at the check-out counter and catches you sorting bills like nothing happened, a weird unease settles in his chest. 

He looks down at this ramen, then at the coffee milk. 

For the first time ever, he feels…self-conscious. 

And now you’re in his head. 

Great. 

By night six, you don’t know whether to pity the guy or stage an intervention.

The ding of the automatic doors announces his arrival, as usual, at exactly 1:09AM. You know it’s him—Ramen Guy. The guy who you’re convinced single-handedly continues to keep the Extra Spicy Hellfire ramen business float. 

You lean against the counter and subtly watch him make his usual pilgrimage to the ramen aisle, internally scoffing to yourself at the weird moment he picks up his ramen like it’s his newborn child.

He’s so weird. 

You wonder what kind of person he is outside this convenience store. Does he always make such objectively strange choices? Like, does he wear socks with sandals? Does he mix his cereal with orange juice instead of milk? 

Your haunting thoughts are interrupted by the sound of his usual unholy pair of snacks hitting the counter in front of you with a soft thunk. You look down at the items before glancing back up at him with a skeptical look on your face, “You ever think about switching it up?”

Ramen Guy, clearly expecting the snark, doesn’t miss a beat, “You ever think about minding your business?” 

“Not really. Boredom makes me nosy,” you shrug. “And at this point, you’re the only thing keeping me entertained at this hour.” 

He rolls his eyes so dramatically you’re mildly concerned he might sprain something. 

“And I’m starting to think you like judging me a little too much.” 

“Wrong. I like judging everyone equally,” you scan his items, then tilt your head. “But maybe you’re a special case. With issues.” 

To your surprise, he snorts. Like, an actual, out-loud laugh. 

“Says the girl who voluntarily works the night shift.”

Your smirk falters for half a second. He catches it.

Ramen Guy raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the counter. “What? Too close to home?”

You shift in your spot, “Bold of you to assume I have issues.”

He shrugs, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You shift the attention back to him. “What about you, then? Why do you keep showing up here, huh?”

At that, something changes. The words in the air, and for the first time, you notice a slight shift in his demeanor—the slight awkwardness in the way he shifts his weight. 

Then, after a brief pause, he meets your gaze and throws the question right back at you.

“Why do you keep working the night shift?”

You freeze, putting his items back down on the counter, caught off guard by the reversal. "Touché. But I asked first."

There's hesitation again for a moment, his fingers tapping the edge of the counter impatiently—nervously?

"I like the peace and quiet,” he finally says, and for the first time tonight, he meets your eyes.

For a split second, you’re startled by the sincerity in his gaze and sudden shift in tone—it’s almost distracting. But you shake yourself out of it just as quickly.

"Nothing about Extra Spicy Hellfire and coffee milk sounds peaceful or quiet," your voice softer now but still teasing.

"Okay, Miss Graveyard Shift," he fires back, leaning a little closer over the counter. "Why are you here every night? Do you have a thing for fluorescent lighting and cleaning up after drunk customers or something?"

You don't miss the faint challenge in his voice as you narrow your eyes at him.

Then, you settle for a shrug and take a breath, answering honestly.

"It's flexible. Pays well enough," you start, before looking back at him, and add, almost as an afterthought, "...and I like the quiet too."

It’s an honest answer, one that seems to hang in the air between you two for a beat too long. His gaze softens ever so slightly, and you swear you see something shift underneath that stupid cap of his, but before you can dwell on it, he straightens up.

He places his three bills on the counter, grabs his items, and pauses.

“So,” he starts, his lighter tone breaking the silence, “do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you Graveyard Shift Girl?”

You raise a brow, amused, as you start putting his bills away, “Do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you Ramen Guy?”

For a split second, you think you see something flicker in his eyes—something smug, something entertained. And you don’t know it, but under his mask, his lips twitch, fighting back a faint smile.

“Touché,” he murmurs, echoing your earlier words before stepping back from the counter, items in hand, but lingers just a moment longer than necessary—like he wants to say something else.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns towards the self-serve station, falling back into his regular routine.

And you should do the same.

You try to do the same. But as you go back to your usual tasks—wiping down the counter, restocking shelves, pretending to be productive—you find yourself sneaking glances out of the corner of your eye toward his window seat.

He just sits there, just like he always does, stirring his ramen absentmindedly as he stares out into the empty street. And yet, tonight, something feels…different.

It’s nothing. You tell yourself it’s nothing.

Just curiosity. Natural, given how he keeps showing up every night, breaking up the monotony of your shift with his weird food choices and even weirder personality.

And yet—

No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to stop thinking about him—the way he looked at you earlier, the way his demeanor shifted even slightly.

It’s nothing.

Still, your gaze flickers back at him, catching the way his fingers tap lightly against the table, lost in thought. You wonder what kind of things keep a guy like him up at night.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re starting to find his weird little habits endearing, too.

The faint sound of the store’s music plays in the background, the clock ticks, and eventually, he finishes his ramen, tosses his trash, and makes his way toward the door.

And then—he hesitates.

Just for a second. A small pause, a barely-there moment where he stops, glances over his shoulder just slightly—just enough to look at you.

“See you tomorrow, Graveyard Shift Girl.”

You blink, caught off guard, and for a moment, all you can manage is to stare at him. Then, as you fail to ignore the weird blooming feeling in your chest, your words slip out almost on instinct:

"Goodnight, Ramen Guy."

The next night, you do something completely out of character, entirely unprovoked, and maybe just a little bit unhinged—you take your cheesy ramen, peace juice pouch, and bag of potato chips and plop yourself down right next to Ramen Guy and his usual window seat. 

He pauses mid-slurp. Keeping his head low, he turns to you slowly. Suspiciously.

“What…are you doing?” 

“Having dinner,” you say matter-of-factly, popping open your bag of chips. 

His gaze drops to your meal, and then back to you. “It’s almost 1:30AM.” 

“Okay? Dinner, early breakfast, midnight snack, call it whatever you want,” you shrug, unbothered as you continue unwrapping your meal. 

Ramen Guy exhales through his nose, shaking his head to himself like he’s just accepted his fate. Without another word, he turns back to his own meal and resumes eating. 

A surprisingly comfortable silence follows—the only sounds filling the empty store the quiet hum of the store’s playlist, the buzz of the lights above you, and the synchronized slurp of two insomniacs with poor diet choices. 

Then, without thinking, you tilt your bag of potato chips, holding it out between you two, “Want one?”

He stops mid-motion, as if he’d almost forgotten you were still here.

Almost.

A glance into your bag, a small shrug, and then, just like that, he grabs a chip and pops it into his mouth, moving so fast you barely catch a glimpse of his face without the mask.

“Thanks,” he mutters before taking a sip of his coffee milk, still keeping his head low.

You hum in response, your fingers drumming against the counter before your curiosity wins the best of you, “So…what kind of life leads you to seek peace and quiet in a convenience store?”

It’s a question that’s been on your mind since last night’s conversation. What can you say? You’re a creature of curiosity.

Ramen Guy shrugs next to you, “What do you mean?”

“Like…you’re here every night. Why at night? Why not during the day?”

He lets out a short chuckle. “You want me to leave?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sure sounded like it.”

You exhale sharply, your fingers now absentmindedly swirling the noodles in your bowl. “Look, I’m just saying—most people are asleep at this hour.”

He smirks. You can hear it in his voice without even looking. “You’re here too, aren’t you?”

“That’s different, this is my job,” you scoff, amused, before pointedly gesturing at this meal before him, “Unless you want to call your weird habits a job. Which, honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone was paying you to subject your tastebuds to that every night.”

And he laughs. It’s small, barely there, but you catch it. Then, with a quiet exhale, he finally answers, “It’s like I told you before, I like the quiet at this hour…I don’t get a lot of that.”

You stop twirling your noodles, the air shifting into that same unspoken understanding from last night. Faint, but unmistakable.

Something unsaid hanging between the two of you, something that tells you this guy is more than just an insomniac with questionable food choices.

You tilt your head. “So, what, you got a bunch of loud roommates or something?”

A small, almost knowing smile tugs at his lips. “Something like that.”

You raise a brow at his vague answer but don’t press. Instead, you nod towards his food. “And your criminal meals? That part of the quiet too?”

He huffs, “Maybe I just have superior taste.”

“Right, totally,” you laugh, the tone in your voice almost testing him. 

Ramen Guy finishes up his meal, wiping his mouth quickly with a napkin before putting his mask back on and finally turning to face you fully.

He narrows his eyes at you, “You think you have me all figured out?”

You mirror his actions, facing him fully for the first time tonight, folding your arms, “Oh, I do have you all figured out, Ramen Guy.”

“Oh yeah?” He leans forward slightly. “Alright, go on. Tell me who I am, Graveyard Psychic Girl.”

You roll your eyes but accept the challenge, leaning back in your seat.

“You’re a creature of habit, clearly. You like consistency. Probably because your life is very inconsistent otherwise.”

Ramen Guy doesn’t react, so you continue.

“You’re a night owl, but not by choice. You want to sleep, but your brain won’t let you.” Your eyes flick down to the coffee milk. “So, instead, you drink this, even though it probably makes it worse.”

Still no response.

“So now, you just keep showing up here because it’s predictable,” you finish with a small shrug. “And maybe…‘cause you’re kinda lonely.”

That makes him pause.

You immediately regret saying it. Because…what was that?

That was too much. Too deep. Too intrusive.

But to your surprise, he doesn’t deflect. He doesn’t scoff, or roll his eyes, or peer them at you the way he does a million times a night.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly, eyes glinting with something you can’t quite place.

“…Not bad,” he says finally, reaching for another chip from the bag in your hands.

You blink. “Wait, really?”

“I mean, kinda harsh, but…mostly true.”

“Oh,” you don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t that.

A beat of silence passes before Ramen Guy speaks up again, “So basically, you’re saying we’re the same.”

You let out a snort, “Not even close.”

“We both work weird hours. We both like the quiet. We both eat the same convenience store junk food.” He holds up the bag of potato chips before eating another one.

“You just started eating those,” you deadpan. 

“Yeah, but I’m still eating them, which means my taste is obviously elite.”

“You literally eat coffee milk with nuclear ramen.”

“Okay, you’re the one who made it weird.”

A mischievous smile starts forming on your face as you snatch your bag of chips back from him, “So you agree your food choices are weird?” 

His smirk falters as a small giggle rises out of you. 

“Whatever you say, Graveyard Shift Girl.” 

The next night, Heeseung does something completely out of character, entirely unprovoked, and maybe just a little bit unhinged—he’s late. It’s 1:30AM, well past his usual 1:09AM show-up time, and the store is Heeseung-less.

He blames late-night dance practice. He also blames Ni-ki for stealing his usual black hoodie—forcing him to spend an extra thirty minutes looking for another one. Not that the hoodie matters, he would argue (yes, it does).

When he finally steps through the door at 1:32AM, the familiar ding barely finishes echoing before—

“Wow,” you drawl from behind the counter, arms crossed. “Tragic. Unbelievable. I was starting to think you found a new place to bother.”

Heeseung snorts, making a beeline for the ramen aisle, “You wish. Wouldn’t want you to get bored without me.”

You let out a dramatic gasp, “Wow. Thoughtful and self-aware. Who knew you had layers?”

Heeseung tries to ignore you, moving to grab his coffee milk. But his lips twitch under his mask, and he’s glad it’s hiding the way he’s failing to fight the smile growing on his face.

When he finally reaches the counter, you push off from where you were leaning against the counter, hands settling on your hips. “Okay, be honest. Outside of this, do you have anything else going on in your life?” 

Heeseung raises a brow, completely caught off guard. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the past few nights, it’s that you’re incredibly nosy. And for someone who claims to like working the night shift because of the quiet, you’re absolutely terrible at keeping things that way. 

“Excuse me?”

“You mentioned that you work weird hours yesterday,” you gesture vaguely at him. “So, spill.”

His stare remains blank, debating if he can distract you by handing you his three bills of cash (he can’t).

“I do…stuff.”

“Stuff,” you repeat, “Quite riveting.”

Heeseung exhales, “Why do you care?”

You shrug, taking his cash and putting it away. “You must do something interesting. You’re too weirdly confident for a guy who just bums around convenience stores at night.”

Heeseung scoffs. "Weirdly confident?"

"Yeah, like—" You wave around you. "You walk around like you have some big, mysterious purpose. But all I ever see you do is glare at instant noodles and sip milk like a sad Victorian child."

Heeseung shakes his head, letting out a breathy laugh. "Maybe that is my purpose."

Then, he simply shrugs. But there’s something in his gaze—something unreadable, like he’s deciding exactly how much he wants to say.

"It’s hard to explain,” he finally says. “I just…have a weird work schedule.”

"Weird how?"

"Weird as in, I don’t really get normal hours. Always moving, always working. Makes sleep kinda impossible."

You pause, taking in his words. Then, you shift slightly, crossing your arms. "Sounds exhausting."

Heeseung exhales a laugh, leaning against the counter. "You have no idea."

For a moment, a familiar and warm quiet fills the air as the two of you linger, as if waiting for the other to say something more.

And he doesn’t know why, but his chest feels a little too tight—like he’s let you stumble into a part of him you weren’t supposed to see yet.

“Well,” you say quietly, your lips curving into a soft smile that sends a weird jolt through his body that he chooses to ignore. “I’m honored you’ve chosen this fine establishment as your official sanctuary.”

He scoffs, reaching for his items. "Don’t let it go to your head, Graveyard Shift Girl.”

He then turns to head to his usual corner when—

“Y/N.”

Heeseung pauses, turning back at you like an awkward child lost in the middle of a store.

“My name,” you clarify, casually returning to sorting the register’s bills. “A lot easier to say than Graveyard Shift Girl.”

Heeseung gives you a slow nod, something unfamiliar and unplaceable twisting in his stomach as he turns back around.

And when he finishes his meal and leaves that night, he calls out—

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

And, this time, he doesn’t fight the smile under his mask when he hears your voice, a little softer, call back out:

“Goodnight, Ramen Guy."

It happens the moment he steps inside.

Heeseung doesn’t even make it past the threshold before a familiar melody drifts through the weak convenience store speakers and to his ears.

Familiar because he’s heard it a thousand times.

Familiar because it’s literally his voice singing the line.

His stomach drops.

Instead of his usual beeline to the ramen aisle, Heeseung turns towards the counter where you’re idly tapping on your phone, oblivious.

The hum of the melody continues, and Heeseung is suddenly too hyper-aware of how loud his own voice sounds in the otherwise dead-silent store.

Panic creeps up his spine.

He moves fast, crossing the store in a few long strides, slamming his hands down onto the counter that divides the two of you.

You jump in your seat.

“Geez—” you clutch your chest, wide-eyed as you take in his very sudden, very urgent presence. “What the hell?”

Heeseung ignores you, pointing above him, “Did you put this on?”

Your brows furrow as you put your phone down, glance up at him, then at the speakers he’s pointing at. You barely register the song before recognition flickers across your face.

“Oh—this? Nah, it’s the store’s playlist,” you gesture towards the iPad behind the counter, currently playing a Current Hits playlist on shuffle. “It’s some group’s new song. Pretty catchy.”

Heeseung just stares at you, mind racing.

You don’t recognize it.

You don’t recognize his voice.

The realization sends relief crashing over him, but he quickly snaps out of it with a brand-new problem—because now he has to decide what the hell to do with this information.

Does he tell you? Drop the act and lay it all out? Would you believe him? Would you even care?

“You okay?” Now you’re staring at him, suspicious. “Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

Heeseung clears his throat, realizing his stance is way too conspicuous, and slowly removes his hands from the counter to stand up straight, attempting to sound normal, “No reason.” 

You squint at him.

Then—

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes suddenly lighting up. “Wait.”

His heart stops. Oh, shit. She figured it out. This is it.

“Are you a fan?” you blurt, leaning forward in your seat eagerly.

Heeseung blinks.

…What.

“Oh, you totally are,” you continue, completely missing the way his soul is currently leaving his body. “You came straight to the counter like a man on a mission. Oh my god. Are they, like, your favorite group or something?”

Heeseung has never wanted to laugh and cry at the same time more than he does in this moment.

“Something like that,” he mutters, bringing a hand to rub this temple, because no way this is happening right now.

You beam brightly from your seat, “That’s cute. Who’s your bias?”

At that, Heeseung does laugh—because this is now officially the most ridiculous thing that’s ever happened to him.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

There’s a long pause.

And then—after a deep breath, a long and heated internal debate, and one last glance at your innocent, completely oblivious face—he finally exhales, looking you straight in the eye.

“This guy,” he says as he hears his own voice ring out through the store. “Because that’s me. That’s my voice.”

Silence.

You stare at him.

You blink. Once. Twice.

Then, after what feels like an eternity—

“…Huh?”

Then you tilt your head. "I'm sorry—what?"

Heeseung watches as your expression cycles from confusion to skepticism to outright disbelief. He braces himself.

"My name is Lee Heeseung," he repeats slowly. "From Enhypen."

Another beat of silence.

Then—because you’re you—

You burst out laughing.

"Okay, Ramen Guy," you snort, crossing your arms. "Very funny.”

Heeseung sighs, "I knew this would happen."

"Because you’re delusional?"

"Because you don’t pay attention."

You roll your eyes, "Oh, I’m sorry, but when in our thriving relationship have you ever given me a reason to believe that you’re actually a famous idol and not just some guy who has concerning dietary habits?"

Heeseung groans.

He regrets everything. He regrets this entire conversation. He could have lied. He could have said literally anything else. But no—he had to be honest. And look where that got him.

"I’m serious," he insists, leveling you with a look.

You stare back at him.

Then, something seems to click in your brain, because you suddenly lunge for your phone.

"Oh, we’re doing this," you mutter, fingers flying across the screen as you type in his name. "Let’s see if—"

You stop.

Heeseung watches as your eyes widen, scanning the images in front of you. Then you look up at him. Then back down at the phone.

Then back at him.

“Take the mask off,” you mutter quietly, slowly holding your phone up next to his face.

With an exhausted sigh, Heeseung does what he’s told and pulls it down for the first time in front of you.

You scan him. Then the phone. Then him.

"You've gotta be shitting me," you breathe.

Heeseung shrugs, "Told you."

You gape at him, your mouth opening and closing.

You don’t know what shocks you more—the fact that a literal celebrity has been standing in front of you this whole time, or the realization that the once-random stranger you used to relentlessly tease has, somehow, always been this ridiculously good-looking all along. 

"So…you’re famous?"

"Something like that."

"Something like that?" You shove your phone toward him, your screen now displaying the group’s Instagram page. "You literally have fans. Like, millions of them."

Heeseung cringes, "Okay, you don’t have to say it like that."

"Like what? Like you’re a superstar and I’ve been treating you like a regular guy who can't cook for himself?"

"Because that’s exactly what I am?"

“Unbelievable,” you scoff, shaking your head. “So you sing. You perform. You—commit crimes against humanity with your ramen choices each night.”

Heeseung groans. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” you echo, standing up from your seat behind the counter. “So you’re telling me that every night, an actual, real-life idol has been showing up here, inhaling a week’s worth of sodium, and I—” You pause, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Are you even allowed to be eating this garbage?”

“And are you ever able to mind your own business?” Heeseung counters, now fully regretting this entire conversation.

“Absolutely not, Lee Heeseung, because this is literally the plot of a drama,” you wave your hands in disbelief. “Mystery insomniac convenience store guy turns out to be a world famous pop star—”

“Okay, let’s not get carried away.”

“—and I, the unsuspecting cashier, unknowingly roast him every night like he’s just some sleep-deprived college student instead of a millionaire with talent. Wait—” you then pause again, placing your hands on your hips, staring at him with a newfound judgment. “—you’re loaded, aren’t you?”

Heeseung pinches the bridge of your nose, exasperated, “Why is that your takeaway from this?”

“You are!” you exclaim, your smile widening as you ignore his suffering. “You’re rich and you’re out here eating instant ramen every night!”

Heeseung groans again, dropping his head onto the counter in front of you, “Oh my god.”

Grinning, you bend down to this level. “So this whole time, you’ve been lying to me?”

He lifts his head just enough to glare at you. "It’s not lying. It’s…selective honesty.”

You scoff, straightening up just as Heeseung does, meeting his gaze with an accusatory squint. “That’s literally the definition of lying.”

“Look, it’s not like I planned to make a habit out of this,” he gestures to the store around him. “I came in one night, and then I came back, and suddenly, I had a thing going. Then you showed up and started running your mouth, and—”

“And you kept coming back anyways,” you finish, crossing your arms, a slow, amused smile tugging at your lips.

Heeseung freezes. His mouth opens. Then closes.

“…Yeah.”

A silence stretches between you—charged, almost personal—until you decide to cut through the tension with a smirk.

“What if I play your group’s music over the speakers every night?”

The look on his face is deadly. “You wouldn’t.”

Your grin grows, “Wouldn’t I, though?”

“This is the worst night of my life,” Heeseung drags a hand down his face and turns towards the ramen aisle. “I’m leaving.”

“Aww, c’mon,” you tease, calling out after him and delighting in his suffering. “Also can we talk about how you literally just said you’re your own bias?”

“Shut up.”

You’re still laughing when he returns to the counter thirty seconds later—Extra Spicy Hellfire and coffee milk in hand, cheeks tinged pink.

“Alright, serious question,” you say, leaning in slightly from your seat at the window barstools. “If you had to give up either Extra Spicy Hellfire or coffee milk for the rest of your life, which would you choose?”

Heeseung immediately stops chewing, his chopsticks frozen midair as he turns to you with a look that says you just personally offended him.

“That’s straight evil.”

“You must choose, Ramen Guy.”

Heeseung groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “You can’t just throw life-altering hypotheticals at me like that.”

“Choose.”

He stares at his ramen. Then at this coffee milk. Then back at you.

Then back at his ramen.

Then back at you.

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Aw,” you flash him your sweetest, most infuriating smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me. Like, ever.”

Heeseung shoots a glare at you, “I hope your regular spicy ramen tastes like disappointment.”

“Oh, it totally does,” you look down at your own ramen in front of you and take an exaggerated slurp, “It’s just so awful.”

Heeseung’s lips perk up into a smile at your weirdly endearing antics before shaking his head, “You’re a lost cause.”

You giggle to yourself, taking a sip of your own juice when you hear Heeseung, barely audible, suddenly mutter:

“…I’d give up coffee milk.”

It’s quiet. It’s barely there.

Your jaw drops.

“I know, okay?” He rubs his temples as if the decision is actually hurting him. “It’s like choosing between two children. But at the end of the day, ramen is ramen.”

You nod along, pretending you understand the gravity of his heavy decision (you don’t). But still, you smile—because you were the one who got him to betray his beloved coffee milk.

Heeseung takes a sip of it anyway, groaning as he swirls the bottle in his hand. “I hate that you made me think about this.”

“You should be thanking me. Y’know, character growth and all that.”

“More like character damage.”

You grin, victorious, and he just rolls his eyes before pausing for a second to think, then—he nudges his ramen cup toward you.

“Here. Try some.”

You recoil immediately and look up at him with a look that tells him he’s absolutely psychotic.

“Absolutely not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why? You scared?”

“No, Heeseung, I just have these things called taste buds.”

He scoffs, shoving the bowl between you two closer. “Just one bite. C’mon, Graveyard Shift Girl, live a little. For me.”

You hold his gaze, suspicious but faltering, because—damn it—he’s looking at you like that. All smug and teasing, head tilted slightly, and it affects you.

And then he moves. 

He picks up his chopsticks, twirls them in the bowl, and catches a perfect bundle of noodles before leaning forward, holding them up between you two. He waits.

Your breath hitches. Your eyes flicker to the steam curling from the noodles, twisting in the air between your faces, fragile and fleeting.

Heeseung doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

It’s ridiculous, really. I mean, it’s ramen. But the way the space between you suddenly feels thin, the way his grip on the chopsticks stays steady, his fingers just inches from your lips, the way his dark eyes stay locked onto yours, watching you with something unreadable flickering beneath the usual teasing glint—it feels like time slows down.

You blink rapidly, clearing your throat. It’s fine. It’s cool. You’re overthinking.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, watching. Waiting.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and slowly lean in to take the bite.

Your lips brush the chopsticks as you close your mouth around the noodles, and for a split second—one charged, unspoken, split second—neither of you move.

Heeseung is so close.

So close.

You can see the soft curve of his mouth, the way his gaze flickers over your face, the way his breath catches slightly like he just realized something.

You’re suddenly painfully aware of the close proximity and it sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. Panicked, you pull back quickly and settle into your seat like nothing happened.

But then you start chewing.

And that’s when you realize—

No, wait. Wait. That heat in your cheeks?

Oh.

Oh no.

Yeah. It’s definitely not because of Heeseung (well, maybe a part of it is). 

Because the second you swallow down the bundle of noodles—the embodiment of heat, pain, and suffering all slams into your mouth instantly.

You freeze.

Your brain short-circuits.

And then—

“Oh my GOD—” you choke, slamming your hands onto the counter, your body shaking as the spice courses through your veins.

Your throat ignites, your sinuses clear, and you swear you can hear colors.

Heeseung? Heeseung loses it.

His laugh bursts out of him—loud, unguarded, and completely delightful. He clutches his stomach, nearly hiccuping from how hard he’s laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, dimples deep in his cheeks.

If you weren’t literally physically dying in this current moment, you’d probably be absolutely too flustered to function at the sight.

“No way—” he wheezes through his laughter,“—are you actually struggling right now?”

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, HEESEUNG?!” you glare at him through the tears forming in your eyes as you desperately flail your arms around, searching for your juice pouch. “You eat this voluntarily?!”

“Every night, baby.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

Your hands finally find your drink and you gulp it down as if it’s your lifeline, eyes still watery, throat still burning, lungs barely breathing. But somewhere in the middle of your suffering, you catch yourself staring.

At Heeseung.

At the way he’s still smiling, like he just had the best meal of his life. At the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs, his dimples peeking out like his own hidden secrets, the way his nose scrunches slightly when he’s amused—

Weird.

You blink the thoughts (and your tears) away, shaking it off, and blame the spice, the delirium, and sheer trauma of what just happened.

You clear your throat, sitting back with a desperate huff.

“I hope,” you catch your breath, gesturing to his bowl, “that when you come in tomorrow, we’re all out of this horrid flavor.”

Heeseung smirks, leaning back in his chair as he gives you a knowing look.

“You’d still restock it for me, though.”

Damn it.

Your shoulders slump, and both of you know you’re defeated.

He knows you know you’re defeated. 

Heeseung just grins, then, without a word, slides his coffee milk toward you in a silent truce.

You stare at it. Then at him.

His smile grows.

And you accept it.

Begrudgingly.

It’s 1:20AM when you find yourself behind the counter, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes of instant noodles and bottled drinks. The store hums with its usual white noise—lights buzzing above, soft music humming overhead, the low whirr of the coolers. 

And Heeseung? 

Heeseung is across the counter, perched on a barstool he dragged from across the store, doing absolutely nothing to help. 

For the nth time tonight, he flips a soda bottle into the air. 

And for the nth time tonight, he fails to land it upright, the bottle clattering onto the counter.

“You’re supposed to be helping me restock,” you remind him, tossing a pack of chips at him. 

“I am helping,” he argues, dodging the bag in time and letting it fall flat onto the ground. Great. 

You cross your arms, scoffing, “Oh yeah? What category does sitting there and flipping Diet Coke fall under?” 

Heeseung finally puts the bottle down on the counter and hums, tapping his fingers against the counter like he’s deep in thought. Then, he flashes you a meek smile, “Moral support?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, turning back to unbox another package from the pile stacked in front of you. 

Another silence falls between you and Heeseung watches as you go back to your job before he breaks it—

“How do you do this every night? Does it not get…I don’t know, tedious? Boring?” 

You freeze in your spot, caught by surprise at the question.

“Hm,” you turn to him, head tilted as you think.

Heeseung glances up at you, intrigued. The way your lips purse slightly, how your fingers fidget absentmindedly with the torn edge of a cardboard box. 

You exhale, leaning back against the counter, “Yeah, the hours suck, pay is…alright. And—” 

You hesitate. Your gaze drifts toward the floor, fixating on a dent near the register, “—and I think, at some point, I thought I felt stuck.” 

Something in Heeseung’s expression shifts. 

“I mean, I’m a college student, for god’s sake,” you continue, a small, humorless laugh escaping you. “And I spend my nights serving cigarettes to barely legal teens and cleaning up after ramen spills. It kind of felt like I was just…watching life pass me by, you know?”

Your voice quiets and it’s just the soft hum of the store again. You pick at the box without thinking, fingers grazing over the worn edges, and Heeseung watches you.

Because he gets it. 

He gets it in a way that makes his chest ache a little.

Because despite the differences in your lives—despite how he’s constantly moving while you feel stuck—you both know the feeling of watching life slip between your fingers, of wondering if you’re ever going to feel like you belong in it.

Heeseung holds the soda bottle between his hands, rolling it back and forth, murmuring, “Yeah, I get that.” 

You glance up at him, making eye contact, but you don’t push. 

“But then,” you say quietly, “I started seeing this place differently. Instead of somewhere I was stuck, it became more of a…break. An escape from everything. A breath of fresh air from expectations and routine.” 

And that—that makes Heeseung look up. 

Because deep down, that’s exactly what all of this has become for him too. 

He doesn’t know when it happened—if maybe it was the first night he found the store, maybe whenever you showed up, maybe all the sarcastic exchanges, or somewhere in between all of that—but these late-night visits, these stolen moments in a world that demands from him, have become something steady. Something his. 

And he wonders if maybe…maybe you’re the reason for that. 

Maybe you’ve been keeping him grounded in a life that never stops moving. 

And maybe he’s been keeping you from feeling stuck. 

Just maybe.

It’s late. Way later than usual. And Heeseung is still here. 

And you don’t know how, but you’ve both abandoned your usual spots—his self-proclaimed window seat and your stool behind the register.

Instead, you’re both sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the register counter, backs pressed against the shelf of over-the-counter medications that you just re-organized, with a laptop and plenty of empty snack wrappers sitting between the two of you.

“See this is exactly my problem with this movie,” you point at your laptop screen, your voice slightly muffled by the gummy bears in your mouth. “One idiot makes one bad decision, and suddenly everyone’s dead! Like, be so for real.”

Heeseung scoffs, leaning back on his hands, “It’s a movie, Y/N. It doesn’t have to be realistic.”

“And I don’t have to pretend this isn’t garbage,” you shoot back as the credits roll, unimpressed. “This is objectively the worst thing I’ve seen.”

“I think I just have an acquired superior taste,” Heeseung quips, his eyes teasing. “Just like with my food choices.” 

“Right,” your voice drags out. “Superior delusion, maybe.”

Heeseung shoves your shoulder with his own, and you laugh, the sound natural, unfiltered, and totally at his expense.

As you shut your laptop and start gathering the remains of your late-night snack feast, the conversation quiets for a moment into an easy, warm silence. It’s the kind of quiet that feels good, the kind that’s been happening more lately—something you never would’ve expected that first night you ever saw him enter the store. 

Then, Heeseung exhales, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leans back against the shelf, “You know, this might be the longest I’ve sat and relaxed in months.” 

You glance up at him, brows raised, “What, you don’t get to laze around on the floor surrounded by junk food with your favorite convenience store worker on a regular basis?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he huffs a laugh. “But I thought a lot about what you said the other night. And sometimes it’s like…”

He pauses and tilts his head back, his eyes following the way the light fixture above him flickers in and out, “Like I’m moving so fast I forget what it’s like to just…be.”

Something in his voice makes you pause in your actions, your hands putting down the miscellaneous wrappers between you.

“Is it hard?” you ask quietly.

He lets out a breathy chuckle from beside you, “It’s…a lot. You’re always being watched, always expected to be on. And even during breaks I’m already thinking about the next thing. The next schedule, next performance, next practice.”

You watch him for a moment, watch the way his fingers tap absentmindedly against his knee, something you’ve started to notice over time whenever he’s lost in thought. 

“But there are moments that make it worth it,” he continues, a small smile playing on his lips. “The music, how fun it is to be on stage, the fans. The feeling of performing and knowing people are there because they love what you do. It’s unreal.”

Your own smile unconsciously appears as you listen to him reflect, taking in his words. You never stopped to really think about his life in-depth before—and it does sound like a lot. Like something people dream of but don’t realize the weight of until they’re carrying it themselves. 

You nudge his knee lightly with yours, “For what it’s worth, I think you deserve to just exist sometimes, too.” 

Heeseung turns to look at you, and for a moment, his expression is unreadable.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, reaching into the closest bag of gummy bears to you and tossing one to him. He catches it easily, popping it into his mouth with a grin.

“See, this is why I keep coming back,” he says, chewing. “Gourmet snacks and free therapy.”

You roll your eyes. “Unbelievable. I take it back. Suffer.”

Heeseung laughs, popping another gummy bear into his mouth, before his fingers start tapping his knee again. Then, after a beat—

“You know, I’ve been thinking.”

When you look up at him, he’s already looking at you with a new…something. A newfound sincerity, maybe. Or uncertainty. Or both.

Your eyes meet, and suddenly, he visibly hesitates—shifting almost awkwardly in his spot, as if he both rehearsed what he’s about to say and yet has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He clears his throat, breaking eye contact.

“I—um,” he swallows hard. “I’m sorry? For, y’know, being kind of a jerk when we first met. I think I was pretty…” He trails off awkwardly. “Jerk-ish.” 

You don’t move for a second. Slowly, one brow arches.

Heeseung thinks he regrets everything.

Then, a smile—slow and sweet—curls at your lips.

And suddenly, Heeseung realizes he doesn’t regret a damn thing.

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, nodding along dramatically. “You were a menace. Like, an insufferable, grumpy, little menace.”

Heeseung lets out a noise that lands somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Okay, I get it.”

“But,” you continue, locking eyes with him again, “I guess I should apologize too.”

Heeseung perks up, now his brow lifting, “For what? Finally admitting I was right about—”

“For judging you and your still…very questionable choices.”

“Ah, there it is.”

You giggle, nudging him with your elbow before pausing. 

“But seriously…you’re, like…” you dramatically draw out the moment as if the words physically pain you to say.

Heeseung smirks, leaning in slightly, waiting for you.

“…pretty cool, I guess.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face, “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you scoff. “You’re still a ramen-addicted jerk.”

Heeseung hums, still smiling, “Might be too late.”

Then, he tacks on, without thinking twice, “You’re pretty cool, too, I guess.”

You laugh at the hesitancy in his voice, “Okay, that sounded almost sincere.”

He rolls his eyes, but his smile softens, “No, but seriously, it’s…nice. Having someone I could talk to outside of…you know, my whole chaotic life.”

The sudden shift in the air quiets you for a moment as you look at Heeseung, noticing the slight drop in his shoulders, the way his fingers continue to drum against his leg. When you don’t say anything, he continues.

“I don’t…really talk to people like this,” he quietly says, as if admitting something to himself more so to you. Then, after a pause, he glances back up, eyes searching your own. “Now like how I do with you. Like…I could tell you anything and everything, really.”

Your breath catches, but you keep your expression neutral, “Oh?”

Heeseung shifts, looking down at his hands before exhaling a quiet laugh, “Sorry. Too serious?”

You find yourself quickly shaking your head. Because although, yes, most of your interactions with Heeseung are filled with jokes and teasing, the serious conversations or shared warm silences in between recently—have started to mean something more. They’ve become an outlet, a quiet escape from reality. It’s like the moment he steps through the store’s doors, the door rings, the outside world fades, and for a few hours, it’s just the two of you in this shared space.

A space that feels safe, untouched by expectations, where both of you can just be.

“No,” you say, softer this time. “Not at all.”

You hesitate for a beat before adding, “I…really like talking to you too. It’s—” you let out a small laugh, “almost unnaturally easy, actually.”

Heeseung doesn’t respond right away. He just nods, and then looks up at you from the ground and his eyes are serious—no teasing, no usual smugness, just something…real. Vulnerable.

Something that makes your heart beat a little too fast.

You should say something. Something light, or something sarcastic, or something normal.

But you don’t.

Because you’re too busy looking at his face.

Then, without thinking, his lips.

And he’s looking at yours.

You don’t know who leans in first, but suddenly, you’re close. He’s close. Too close. Close enough to hear his quiet inhale. To see the way his lashes flutter. To feel the space between you two thinning into something dangerously nonexistent.

You should move. You should break the moment before it turns into something neither of you can take back.

But you don’t.

And he doesn’t.

And then—

Ding.

The sound of the automatic doors sliding open shatters the moment.

You both jolt apart like a pair of teenagers caught guilty, and your heart is practically breaking out of your ribcage as you scramble to your feet, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants, your face burning as you appear from behind the counter to greet the customer that was blissfully unaware of whatever was definitely not about to happen behind the counter. 

You clear your throat as you look down at Heeseung, who’s still frozen in his spot and trying his very best not to lose his mind, “I should—um. Go back to work.”

Then, suddenly, Heeseung stands too, nodding quickly as he runs a hand through his hair, his face slightly pink, very much not looking at you, “Right. Yeah. Work.”

Right when you turn back to the counter, the customer is there, waiting for you to ring them up. You plaster the most normal smile you can muster, scan their snack, take their cash, and hand them their change—all while pretending you don’t feel Heeseung’s presence still lingering behind you.

You don’t turn around, and he doesn’t move.

And despite the complete lack of physical contact, you still feel his warmth. The same amount of warmth as when he was only mere inches away from your own face.

The door chimes as the customer leaves.

Then, finally—Heeseung clears his throat.

Hesitantly, you turn around, bracing yourself.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, avoiding your gaze before forcing out, in the most casual voice he can manage—

“So, uh—same time tomorrow?”

You blink.

Then, finally, you let out a small laugh, “You’re so weird.”

The tension in the air cracks just enough, and Heeseung exhales a quiet laugh, “And yet, you’d miss me if I didn’t show up, wouldn’t you?”

You open your mouth, ready to argue, except—nothing comes out.

Because, unfortunately, you know he’s right.

And he knows he’s right.

So, naturally, instead of admitting defeat, you suddenly grab a rag from behind the counter and start aggressively scrubbing at a perfectly clean surface.

“Go home, Ramen Guy.”

Heeseung just grins, shoving his hands into his pockets as steps out from behind the counter and backs away. “Night, Graveyard Shift Girl.”

When he’s finally gone, you’re left standing there, staring at where he just was before you.

And finally, when the reality of what just happened fully settles in—

You groan, dropping your head against the counter.

Because now he's in your head.

Great.

The clock above you ticks, a sound that usually fades into the background and becomes a part of the store’s white noise. But tonight? 

Tonight, it’s your biggest freaking nuisance. 

You think if you have to hear it tick one more time, you’re taking the ladder from the backroom, climbing up there, yanking that thing off the wall, and tossing it right into the dumpster. 

Why? 

Because, it’s 2:21AM. 

2:21AM, and you’re alone. Stuck in this sad, empty convenience store with nothing but your own annoying thoughts and the snacks laid out in front of you with no one to share them with. 

Same time tomorrow, my ass, you think bitterly, aggressively straightening a stack of receipts near the register that don’t even need straightening. 

Heeseung’s voice from a few days ago still rings in your head—completely, and unfortunately, uninvited.

You don’t even know why they’re stuck in there, his words looping around, constantly taunting you.

The worst part?

His words had been entirely untrue.

Because it’s been three days.

Three full days since Heeseung has walked through those automatic doors, plopped down in his usual seat, and proceeded to either a) annoy you, b) argue with you over his food-related crimes, or c) make you laugh against your will.

And you don’t know why it’s bothering you so much.

Frustrated? Yeah, you’re frustrated. But the real question is—at what, exactly?

Frustrated that he just disappeared without so much as a heads-up? No warning?

Or maybe you’re frustrated at the very fact that you’re even thinking about this at all.

It’s not like he owes you an explanation. It’s not like he belongs to this store…or to you.

So why does it feel like something’s missing every time you glance at the entrance, half-expecting to hear the ding of the doors and see him stroll in with his stupid hoodie and even stupider smirk?

You shake your head, trying your best to snap yourself out of it.

It’s fine. You’re fine.

You don’t care.

You don’t care so much that, for some reason unbeknownst to you, your brain—your traitorous, overthinking, hardworking brain—itches with a thought.

A stupid, ridiculous, subconscious thought.

And before you can fully even process what you’re doing, your fingers are already unlocking your phone, your thumbs moving on autopilot as you do something you swore you wouldn’t.

You search up his name.

It’s pathetic. It’s sad. Even you’re disappointed in yourself. 

You told yourself you wouldn’t associate Heeseung with his job, with the persona that everyone else sees. Because to you, Heeseung is just…Heeseung—the insomniac who bickers with you every night, who somehow turns every conversation into an argument he has to win, who sits cross-legged with you behind the register eating spicy noodles and giving objectively bad movie recommendations.

And to him? 

Well. You thought that to him, you were just you. Just some convenience store worker he happened to befriend. Someone outside of his world, outside of the blinding lights. Someone he didn’t have to be anyone around. 

His words echo in your mind as you think—just a person he could tell anything and everything to. 

You push the thought along with their feelings down as you continue scrolling—quick, desperate, your fingers flying over your screen, swiping through posts, comments, anything that could explain his sudden absence—

And then. 

You see it.

A tweet. 

Tagging his group, followed by a message. It’s short. Sweet. Simple. 

Yet entirely soul-crushing. 

“Can’t believe they’re leaving for tour already tomorrow! So excited to see them in a few days!!” 

Your breath catches. 

Your eyes flicker over the words again.

And again.

Leaving. For tour.

Tomorrow.

Your stomach twists violently as you scan for more confirmation, your hands gripping your phone with a newfound frustration as you tap through articles, fan accounts—anything to tell you this isn’t real. That there’s some mistake. That you didn’t just foolishly spend three days waiting for someone who was never going to show up.

But there it is. Everywhere. Right in front of you.

Confirmed dates. Cities. Posters.

Heeseung is leaving. Tomorrow.

And he didn’t say a word.

You don’t know how long you sit there, staring at your screen. The words all blur together, but the sinking feeling in your chest is sharp, clear, and undeniable.

And you hate it.

You hate that you feel like this. You hate that your first instinct wasn’t to be happy for him, or proud, or even remotely understanding.

Instead, you’re angry. Upset. Hurt.

And what you hate the most?

You know exactly why you feel this way.

And just as that realization settles in—just as the blur of your feelings finally sharpens into something unmistakable, something you can no longer ignore—the familiar ding of the automatic doors cuts through the quiet store and the screaming thoughts in your head.

You almost don’t look up.

Almost.

But then you do, and your stomach drops.

Because there he is.

You blink, because at first you think maybe you’ve been drowning in your thoughts for so long that you’ve started hallucinating him—manifesting his presence out of sheer frustration towards him.

But, no.

Heeseung stands there, at the entrance, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, looking at you like nothing’s changed.

Like he hasn’t been gone for days, like he hasn’t left you suffering with your own emotions—like he hasn’t been the only thing on your mind even when you really, really, didn’t want him to be.

“Hey,” Heeseung nods at you casually, walking over to his usual stupid aisle, grabbing his usual stupid Extra Spicy Hellfire, then reaching for his usual stupid coffee milk—all like clockwork, all like he never left.

You don’t respond.

Instead, you busy yourself—wiping the spotless corner of your counter, smoothing out a crumpled receipt, pretending you’re looking for something in the shelves beneath you.

Anything to keep yourself from looking at him.

And you might actually lose it.

Because if you have to stand here and pretend like you’re fine, that these past few days haven’t felt like an eternity for you—you might actually lose it.

Heeseung finally walks up to the counter, places his things between you, then pauses before repeating, tilting his head, “Hey?” 

He shifts slightly, waiting for you to acknowledge him.

You don’t.

A beat passes. Then another.

“You mad at me or something?” he asks, his head still tilted, his voice light, hesitant.

You inhale, your fingers subconsciously tightening around the edge of the counter.

Then, you let out a quiet laugh—an empty, humorless scoff.

“Should I be?”

Heeseung frowns, clearly confused, “What?”

You finally look at him. And you think it was a mistake. Because the second you meet his gaze—uncertain, searching, so annoyingly familiar—you feel your throat close up.

He looks the same. Same stupid hoodie. Same messy hair. Same tired eyes that you’ve somehow come to find comfort in.

And that makes you hate this even more.

“Is this because I haven’t been showing up?” Heeseung tries again, a small, teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Damn, I didn’t realize you’d miss me that much. Sorry, Graveyard Shift Gi—”

“When were you going to tell me?”

Your voice is quiet, but he doesn’t miss it.

And he stills.

There it is.

He shifts in his spot again, his eyes now darting down to where his fingers are tapping against the counter.

“What?” he says again, but this time, it’s different. Careful.

You swallow, forcing down the lump forming in your throat, forcing yourself to look at him.

“When were you going to tell me you were leaving?”

It’s soft. Barely above a whisper. But lined with something raw, something vulnerable, something hurting.

And Heeseung hears all of it. He feels all of it.

He doesn’t answer. He just stares at you, lips pressing into a thin line.

Somewhere in the background, the clock continues ticking, the lights overhead buzzing, a song from the speakers humming.

And Heeseung stays silent.

“You weren’t,” you murmur, the words caught in your throat. “Were you?”

Heeseung exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, “I—” 

He stops. Starts again. 

“It’s not—it wasn’t—”

You cross your arms tightly, more so to ground yourself more than anything.

He lets out a quiet, frustrated laugh, shaking his head.

“Look,” he gestures vaguely, between you, at the store, at the shelves, at the space you’ve unknowingly carved out for him here. “This—this is the only thing that’s felt normal for me in a long time.”

Your stomach twists.

“Everything else—my whole life, it’s all…chaos. But this?” He swallows, his eyes finally looking up to meet your gaze, his voice quieter now. “You?”

His eyes flash with something new, something softer, something that lingers in the way he looks at you. The same way he has over late-night snack feasts, whispered movie nights, conversations that blended into the early mornings. 

“You’re the closest thing to normal I’ve had.”

And somehow, that makes it worse.

Because you get it. You know him, so you understand.

But it doesn’t change the fact that he was going to leave without telling you.

You inhale slowly, your heavy gaze holding his.

“So what?” your voice is still quiet, but now edged with a new sharpness. “You thought if you didn’t say anything, it wouldn’t have to be real?”

Heeseung presses his lips together. “I thought maybe if I didn’t say it, I wouldn’t have to lose this yet.”

Your breath catches.

You want to laugh. You want to cry.

Heeseung didn’t tell you because he didn’t want to ruin this.

Whatever this is.

Whatever the two of you had built over the weeks between instant noodles and snacks, between arguments over food choices, between all the unspoken moments that made you feel like maybe, maybe, this was something more.

You let out a wavering breath, shaking your head, “That’s not fair, Heeseung.”

“I know,” his voice is rough now, like he’s tired of saying it. Like he’s already told himself a million times and accepted it. Like he wants you to just accept it and move on.

But you can’t.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know how!” His voice rises in frustration, an exasperated sigh slipping out. “Because you—this—whatever this is, it started feeling real. Too real. And I just didn’t want to fuck it up, alright?”

The words knock the air out of your lungs.

Because suddenly, everything you’ve been trying so hard to ignore, every feeling you’ve been trying to convince yourself wasn’t there, is suddenly painfully undeniable.

And worse than realizing how real this is?

Knowing that Heeseung knows it, feels it, too. 

But heavier than that realization is the anger.

Not just at the situation.

Now, at Heeseung.

“So you thought it’d be better to just disappear instead?” Your voice shakes, biting down on the thick emotion rising in your throat. “You didn’t even think to tell me.”

Heeseung steps closer, and for the first time tonight, you see it—his own frustration bubbling beneath his surface, the barely restrained emotion.

“What does it matter, Y/N?” his sharp voice cuts through the heavy air lingering between you. “What difference would it—would you—have made? It’s not like this was ever going to change anything.”

Your heart stops.

At that, you falter, and Heeseung sees it.

He sees the way your eyes move away from his. He sees the way your posture suddenly deflates, as if his words physically hurt you.

Because they do.

Because you know what he’s saying.

He’s leaving. And you’re staying.

And no matter what, no matter the amount of realness, no matter what either of you feel—that was always going to be the reality.

“Right,” you finally say, your voice dangerously close to giving out. “Because it’s not like any of this really meant anything, right? At least not enough for you to acknowledge.”

Now your words hurt.

Heeseung winces. His jaw tightens. His fists clench.

Then finally—

“…I don’t know,” he mutters.

The final crack.

You let in a sharp inhale, nodding once, your lips pressed into a straight line. “Got it.”

Heeseung clenches his jaw, like he wants to take the words back, like he wants to fix whatever just broke between you.

Instead, he exhales, stepping back from the counter, “I should go.”

This time, you don’t stop him.

You don’t say anything at all.

Heeseung hesitates for a half second, like maybe—just maybe—he’s waiting for you to say something.

But you don’t. 

Not when you feel so utterly lost in everything you’re feeling that you can’t even begin to put into words. 

So he nods once, shoving his hands back into his pockets, turning away.

The automatic doors slide open.

The ding rings, taunting you.

Cold air rushes in.

And then—he’s gone.

And you?

You’re left at the counter, staring at his abandoned cup of ramen, untouched coffee milk, and the ghost of something that never got the chance to be.

Heeseung doesn’t think. 

He wasn’t thinking four days ago, when the space between you two had grown impossibly small—when he was this close to you, when the air felt thick with something unspoken, yet undeniable, something that made his pulse race and his breath hitch. 

He wasn’t thinking when he let fear creep in, when the weight of him realizing his own feelings sent him running, keeping him from stepping foot into the store at all. For three days. 

He wasn’t thinking when he looked you in the eye last night and told you this didn’t matter. That none of it ever did. 

He wasn’t thinking when he walked out of the store, leaving you to think that you didn’t matter to him. That you never did. 

And he definitely isn’t thinking now, when he’s supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour, but instead—his feet pound against the pavement, tearing through the empty, quiet streets like a man possessed, like maybe if he runs fast enough, he can outrun the regret clawing in his chest. 

The cold air stings against his face, streetlights flicker overhead, and the city hums all around him—but none of it matters. None of it even registers. 

Because all Heeseung knows, all he cares about, is getting to you.

Because Heeseung?

He can go months on tour without his Extra Spicy Hellfire ramen.

He can go months on tour without his coffee milk.

He can go months on tour without those, even if it means braving his insomnia.

But what he can’t go without?

Heeseung can’t—he won’t—go months on tour knowing you think you meant nothing to him. That you didn’t bring him relief after the longest days, laughter when he forgot how to find it, comfort in a world that never slowed down for him.

That you weren’t the one thing that felt real in a life that so often didn’t.

And if there’s even the smallest chance to fix this—to make sure you know—then nothing else matters.

The neon glow of the convenience store sign comes into view, and Heeseung’s heart lurches in his chest as he approaches, his staggered breathing visible in the cold air in front of him, his hands clammy.

He stumbles through the sliding doors, the familiar ding barely registering in his mind as his eyes dart around—only for his stomach to drop.

The counter is empty. The soft sound of your absentminded humming, the teasing lilt of your voice, the annoyed glare in your eyes—it’s all missing.

And all wrong. Too quiet, too empty, too…not you.

Instead, some guy he’s never seen before glances up from behind the register, staring at the way Heeseung just lingers frozen near the entrance.

“Uh,” Heeseung swallows thickly, his voice strained from his sprint. “The girl who usually works nights. Is she here?”

“Oh, Y/N?” the worker raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, she called off tonight.”

Heeseung stills.

You’re not here.

You’re not here.

And it’s his fault.

Because last night, you were here—waiting, hoping, and he walked out on you.

“Oh,” is all Heeseung can manage before he feels the words getting caught in his throat.

His jaw clenches, his stomach twists. The weight of regret settles deep, heavy and unrelenting.

“Right. Okay. Thanks,” he mutters, nodding absently, then turns towards the door.

The automatic doors slide open.

The ding rings, taunting him.

Cold air rushes in.

And just as Heeseung steps out—

He sees you.

You.

Right there, walking towards the store, hands shoved into the pockets of your coat, face buried into your scarf.

You stop.

He stops.

For a moment, neither of you move. Neither of you breathe.

The neon glow of the store’s sign reflects off your face, casting a shadow over your widened eyes. A car honks in the distance. A gust of wind blows past.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Heeseung says without thinking, almost breathless.

A small laugh escapes your lips, airy and uncertain, “Yeah, well…neither are you.”

You’re right.

He should be on his way to the airport. Bags packed, schedule set, moving on.

But instead? Instead, he’s here, standing in front of the only person who has ever made him hesitate.

Heeseung takes one step forward, “I was looking for you.”

You tilt your head, your lips pressed together like you’re weighing something in your mind.

Then you take a small step forward.

“And now you’ve found me.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry.”

It comes out all at once and rushed, but utterly honest. Honest and heavy, the way it’s been aching in his chest—and he can’t hold it in anymore.

You blink, unmoving.

“I’m so sorry,” Heeseung says again, stepping closer. His voice is steady, gentle, but nervous, scared you won’t believe him. “For everything. For not telling you. For leaving like that. For being a completely fucking idiot about—”

He stops. The look in his eyes is vulnerable, genuine. Longing.

“About this. Us.”

You don’t say anything right away, just watching him carefully.

Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, letting out a dry laugh as he realizes he’s about to lay everything out bare.

“I think I was scared,” he admits. “Of what it all meant. Of what you meant to me. I kept telling myself none of it was real, that it didn’t matter. But then I walked out yesterday and, I realized—”

He swallows hard, looking at you and the way your eyes soften with something unreadable.

“It does. You do. So, so much, Y/N.”

Another pause.

Then, you let out a soft exhale, shaking your head, as if something’s finally clicking into place, “I’m sorry too.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows burrow in confusion.

“For not—,” you sigh, your hands now fidgeting with the ends of your scarf. “For not saying something sooner. Because the truth is, I’ve been denying it too. I didn’t even realize how much I—how much you meant to me until I saw you last night and…”

You trail off, your cheeks warming. Then, with a deep inhale, you take another step closer, meeting his gaze from an arm’s length away.

“I was just so angry and upset, but I think…I realized it’s only because I like you, Heeseung. So much.”

Heeseung swears his heart stops. It feels like his whole world has just shifted, and all his thoughts are tangled up in the way you’re looking up at him now.

“And…I should’ve been more understanding,” you add softly. “I shouldn’t have held it against you like you owed me something. I was just hurt, and I didn’t know how to handle it, honestly.”

Heeseung doesn’t say anything right away, not when his thoughts are running wild and his heart is beating like it’s about to fully grow legs and escape.

Then, he exhales a breath of relief.

And lets out a quiet laugh to himself.

You blink at him.

“We’re both idiots,” he says finally, shaking his head softly. 

A small, knowing smile dances on your lips, your eyes locking onto his, “Yeah. Looks like it.”

The tension eases. Just a little.

Heeseung takes a small step closer, close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off of you, despite the cold air surrounding you both. 

“So now what?”

You tilt your head as you look up at him, eyes searching his, “Aren’t you supposed to be catching a flight soon?”

Heeseung’s breath hitches.

Because he knows he should say yes.

That’s what’s been planned all along. That’s the reality.

But, for the first time—

He hesitates.

“Maybe."

Your eyes narrow slightly, a playful glare sparking in them, "Maybe?"

Heeseung exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair, his fingers lingering at the nape of his neck. "Yeah. Maybe."

The warmth in his chest spreads when he sees the way you bite back a smile, the way your weight shifts just the tiniest bit closer—like you're testing the space between you.

Then, you reach into the tote bag slung around your shoulder and pull something out. 

“Here.”

You press a small bottle of coffee milk into his hands.

Heeseung stares at it in his hands.

Then at you.

And you’re looking at him with something gentle—something that makes his chest tighten in the best way possible, something that makes the world feel just a tiny bit warmer.

“Just in case you need a reminder,” you say, your voice light and grounding. “Of what’s normal.”

Heeseung stares at you for a moment, and suddenly—everything makes sense. 

The missing piece clicks into place as the static in his mind all fades away, leaving only this—only you. 

You, standing here in front of him, looking at him with that small, steady smile, and Heeseung knows. 

He's never been more sure of anything in his life.

A laugh escapes him before he even realizes it, soft and breathless, bubbling up from somewhere deep in his chest, where warmth curls all around it, wrapping around his own heart like a quiet, undeniable truth. His heart races and his fingers tighten around the bottle in his hands—slightly trembling, not from nerves, but from the realization of something so much bigger. Something so much realer. 

And then, without even thinking, he steps forward like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and closes the small space between you before wrapping his arms around you. He pulls you in, slow but certain, with a gentleness that catches you by surprise. 

You freeze, breath catching, but only for a second. Because then—like a reflex, you melt into him, your own arms tightening around him.

Holding onto him just as much as he’s holding onto you.

Neither of you say anything.

There’s a quiet calm between you two—no need for words, just the rhythm of your heart beating against his own. Steady, calming, like it’s syncing with his, like they’ve always known each other’s pace.

Like they’ve been moving in tandem all along, even when neither of you realized it. 

And in a way, maybe that’s just how it’s always been with you two—balancing on the fine line between pushing and pulling, between sharp words and lingering glances, between pretending you didn’t care, yet feeling everything all at once. 

So easy to cross, so easy to blur, so easy to mistake for something else. 

Maybe you spent all this time thinking you were standing on opposite sides, only to realize you were always moving toward the same place.

And now, as one of his arms moves across your back, the other threading gently through your hair, holding the back of your head against his chest like he never wants to let you go, his heartbeat still steady against yours, you know for certain—

You were never meant to stay on one side. 

You were always meant to cross it. 

Life is unpredictable, uncontrollable, and chaotic.

Lee Heeseung’s life? Heeseung’s life is that times ten, with an extra sprinkle of what-is-even-happening-anymore?

However—

There are three things—three sacred constants—that keep Heeseung from spiraling into total madness.

The first?

Insomnia.

Not by choice, of course.

The second?

Extra Spicy Hellfire ramen and coffee milk.

Yes, it’s a weird combo. And no, he still doesn’t care.

And the third?

You.

And honestly?

You’re the only one he really needs.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

the end! if you made it to the end, i'll ship u some extra spicy hellfire ramen & coffee milk rn ! <3 luv u mwahmwahmwah !

<3, addie

m.list here!

tag list pt.1 (luv u all):

@xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaaah @heejamas @jiyeons-closet @sagegreenhairclip @betda @ineedsomezzz @motherscrustytoenailclippings @bussolares @soobnuuy @deluluscenarios @chrrific @vvenusoncasual @rairaiblog @mwahvvis @lveegsoi @desssss-0 @hoonkishoe @sunhyeswife @ilovbeshotaro @dearestdreamies @starry-eyed-bimbo @planetmarlowe @lovialy @ambi01 @elairah @therealmrsbahng @lov4hoon @hollxe1 @lovenha7 @ilovhoonie @coqhee @i03jae @letwiiparkjay @manuosorioh @mintysunoo @amiraazzz @renaishun @enhadd @ikeulove @starniras @heartheejake @zaycie

(bolded didn't let me tag, sorry :( )

[backtothefanfiction]

Can I Sleep With You? | Joaquin Torres imagine

Summary: when all else fails, try sleeping next to someone who’ll hold you accountable

Warnings: fluff, funny jokes, miscommunication

Word Count: quick written in app couple hundred words

A/N: just before I go to sleep, you can have this little idea

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a good night sleep. Ever since you took up the offer to move onto the new Avengers campus for training, you just couldn’t seem to switch off. The bed was too new and firm. You felt self conscious knowing the rest of the team were in rooms around you, most of them practically strangers. Your muscles ached from hours of work outs and fight training. Your brain constantly going back over the things you’d done wrong. Your body ached. Your eyes were heavy, yet still you couldn’t sleep.

You had tried everything under the sun; reading, listening to audiobooks, so many different white noise sounds. You had even smothered your body in a lavender moisturiser to try and help you to relax. Still you tossed and turned and ended up staring at the ceiling in frustration.

On night three, you decided you’d had enough.

You checked the time on your phone, 12:15am, before shooting Joaquin a text.

Y/N: Hey, you still up?

Joaquin: Yeah, why?

You didn’t bother to message back and explain. Instead you got up, slipped your feet into your sliders next to the bed and went down the hall to his room; where you knocked and waited patiently.

“Hey,” he whispered into the silent hallway, “what’s up?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

He took a step back, his eyebrows raising as he looked you up and down, his eyes taking in your bedtime look.

“I mean, I’m not opposed, but surely if you were gonna come use me for a late night booty call, you could have at least dressed up a little and treated me to some lingerie.”

“Uh, what? No.” you quickly said, shaking off his comment. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay, then what did you mean?”

“I mean sleep. Like actual sleep. I feel like I’ve had maybe three hours sleep total in the last three days and I’m desperate.”

“And sleeping in bed with me is gonna help?” he fished, looking for your reasoning.

“Look, I’m just weirded out being in a new place on my own okay. I just want to cuddle up in bed with my best friend and feel safe so I can sleep.”

He softened then, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Come on then,” he said, stepping back and ushering you inside.

His bedsheets were all ruffled where he’d been chilling in bed, winding down to go to sleep, the bedside lamp on washing the room in a soft yellow light.

“I didn’t interrupt your late night porn routine did I?” You joked, wanting to diffuse the small amount of tension you’d brought into the room from invading his space.

“Oh no, I finished that about an hour ago,” he teased.

“Good thing this wasn’t an actual booth call then,” you said back, before climbing into the bed and shuffling to the far side that hadn’t been touched.

“Oh don’t worry, I could have gone again,” he teased back, flashing you a playful smile. You rolled your eyes at him before fluffing the pillow and lying down in it comfortably. “You need anything else?” he asked as he prepared to climb in next to you.

“Nah, I think I’m good,” you said.

“Just that cuddle then.” he said with a nod, turning the light off and shuffling close to spoon you. You both shuffled about a little until you were completely comfortable, the dark quiet of the room blanketing you both and making the moment feel far more intimate than you’d originally imagined this being. “You called me your best friend,” he finally said quietly into you ear.

“Yeah, I did.” you said back, in the same hushed tone. “Is that okay?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to say it back.” he joked and his breath tickled the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that relaxed you, your body folding into his and his arm wrapped tighter around you to pull you into his chest.

“Good night, Joaquin.” you finally said into the darkness.

“Good night, Y/N.” he said contently back.

[pretentious-blonde]

realisation

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: it’s a feeling he hasn’t touched in years—something selfish and dangerous and impossible to let go of

warnings: therapy, big big feelings from steve, migraines, anxiety

a/n: soft steve always has my heart <3

series masterlist

Steve never liked the quiet, that’s part of the reason he loved his job. The noise in his classroom was gentle, filled with curiosity—excitement. It was an odd definition of peace, but he never questioned it. Kids brought out something within him he thought was lost, he liked that about them.

That’s also why he never enjoyed going back to his own place. It was the kind of quiet that felt too suffocating. When he first signed the lease after leaving his parents' house, he thought the isolation would be a blessing—a sanctuary where it was just him, no drama, no outsiders.

No threats.

But as time went on and memories resurfaced, that same quiet began to feel heavy.

He found himself remembering what it was like when he first moved here, when progress was just beginning—because in a way, it was again.

Slashed, back to fucking zero.

He could no longer move forward. Couldn’t talk about it anymore—not in the way he needed to.

He couldn’t safely open up in his therapist’s office, couldn’t make you understand now, not really.

All he had left was Robin—the same Robin who had nearly fallen apart trying to hold him together at the start of all this—and he couldn’t do that to her again. Wouldn’t.

That is why he has to do this. 

It’s late afternoon, and he’s got one sock on, one sock half-off, pacing across the tiny stretch of kitchen linoleum with the phone pressed to his ear. His free hand scraped through his hair, again, again—like maybe if he does it hard enough, he’ll comb away all the thoughts circling in his head.

He hasn’t slept. The therapist’s words from yesterday rattle in his mind, reverberating through every breath. 

Intervene. 

He’s replayed the warning all night, half expecting someone to burst through the door and threaten him again. It churns in his stomach. All the guilt and fear—he can’t figure out which is louder. 

He just knows he’s been lying in bed, eyes wide at the ceiling, again. 

The excuse he comes up with is a simple one, not really a lie. Because in a way, his head does ache. It’s not the blinding kind of pain that used to knock him off his feet after a particularly bad episode, but the pressure’s there, right behind his eyes, throbbing in time with his pulse. 

He might as well call it a migraine if it keeps you at arm’s length—keeps you safe from whatever might be going on inside his mind. But that’s not really true anymore.

The threat is, once again, in the real world.

He closes his eyes the moment he hears your voice on the other end of the line. He tries to answer in a steady tone.

“Hey,” he begins. “I—hey. Um. I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

It’s quiet as he waits for your answer, like you're feeling out the tone of his voice. 

“Why?”

Didn't take much to sense something was wrong. You were observant. 

Too observant. 

That’s why he had to create this distance. 

“I’ve got a migraine coming on,” he manages, voice unsteady. “Just… sort of crept up on me. Thought it was gonna pass but… doesn’t feel like it.”

He can picture the worried fold between your eyebrows, the way you’d tilt your head if you were standing in front of him. 

“Is it bad? Y’know… like last time?” 

You ask it so gently, and he bites the inside of his cheek. 

Last time.

The last time—when he nearly lost everything you had built together.

The last time he left you scared.

The last time he really fucked up.

“No,” he speaks quickly. “Not that bad. Just a bit of pressure. Thought I should stay home—sleep it off.”

He hears you exhale, a soft sigh that says you’re not convinced. 

“Steve…”

“Sweetheart,” he counters, trying to keep his voice light, “I’m alright. I just… need a quiet night.” He punctuates it with a half-hearted laugh, like it might sell the story better.

“Okay.” There’s a pause on your side. “Well—I’m coming over.”

His chest constricts. 

Of course you are. 

He knew you would. It’s one of the things that scares him most about letting you in: you show up. 

Always. 

“No—no, you don’t have to,” he blurts. “Really. I’ll just be in bed. It’s not exactly good company.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for thrills,” you tease, voice warmer. “Let me take care of you a little.”

He almost loses it right there. The phone cord wraps around his wrist as he paces in a tight circle, sock skidding on the tile. 

He thinks you’re too good for him. So he says it out loud, in a voice that cracks just a bit. Hopefully he can blame it on the “pain.”

“Maybe,” you answer, and he can practically see your small smile, the tilt of your lips. “But I like you. So that’s kind of your problem now.”

He can’t fight it anymore. He'll say it's his lack of energy.

“Okay,” he concedes. “Door’s unlocked.”

He hangs up too fast, like if he stays on the line a second longer, he’ll give up the entire game. The phone slips from his hand onto the receiver with a dull clack.

He just stands there in the fading sunlight, staring at the pattern of the kitchen countertop. He can’t figure out if he’s more relieved that you’re coming, or more terrified that you’ll see the cracks he knows will soon show. 

He moves into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The cushions sink under his weight like they’re trying to swallow him whole. He feels like an idiot as he scrubs his hand over his face. He should’ve just faked the entire day, come up with an ironclad excuse—maybe said he had to run errands or something. 

But then you’d ask questions, you’d want to help him, and he’d buckle anyway because he can’t say no to you. Not when you sound like that. 

Not when your first instinct is to care.

He glances at the stack of second-grade spelling tests on the table and pushes them aside, annoyed at the very sight of them. He was trying to keep busy, to put a pen in his hand and shut off his brain. But the weight in his chest is too big, too heavy to ignore, and nothing about marking a dozen attempts at the word “elephant” is going to clear the images swirling in his mind.

Last night was bad. 

Worse than usual. 

He’d tossed and turned for hours, drifting into shallow snatches of sleep that delivered him into the Upside Down, or a half-memory of it. The vines. The pulsing lights. And you, off in the distance, looking at him like he was a stranger. 

He’d woken with a jolt, drenched in sweat, heart hammering. Spent the morning sipping lukewarm coffee with no music, no TV, no noise at all—just the sound of his own heartbeat roaring in his ears.

He knew this would happen, especially after his last appointment, but it still hurt all the same. He hadn’t had a dream like that in weeks, proof that all of his progress feels like it’s been ripped from under him. 

Everything about this is too much and not enough. He’s tiptoeing on a razor’s edge of fear and yearning, wanting to protect you but also wanting to crash into your arms. He doesn’t deserve how you look at him, the way you always ask if he’s okay. 

And now you’re on your way over, and he can’t stop you. 

Doesn’t truly want to stop you.

Because in the back of his mind, he knows this feeling. He knows it all too well.

Knows what it does to a person.

It always starts slow—just a ripple, a toe in the water—until suddenly the tide’s pulling you under and there’s no surface left to reach for.

He knows what it means to drown—in both senses of the word. But this time, it’s worse. This time, it’s not his choice whether he comes back up.

This time, it’s yours.

And all he can do is hope that if it comes down to it, he’ll be the one sinking. 

Not you.

The front door swings open quietly, you don’t bother waiting for an invitation. By the time Steve looks up, you’re already stepping inside with that urgency in your eyes—like you’ve come prepared to handle any crisis he’s trying to hide. 

He hates that he can read your body language. Hates that he can see how cautious you are, bracing yourself for whatever version of him you’ll find.

And he hates even more that you’d still come anyway.

For a moment, he just stands there in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do with his hands. He was halfway through tidying up, something to move his stiff body. Make you think that your boyfriend can at least seem to hold his life together. 

He’s in his usual knit jumper and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms, hair a little mussed from the nervous nap he never took. The lighting softens him, makes him look more fragile than he feels, it traces the curve of his jaw and the soft downturn of his mouth. 

He’s tired. You can see it instantly—the weighted slump of his shoulders, the slight effort in his exhale. Maybe there’s a pang of guilt in his chest at being so transparent, but he can’t quite fix his expression into something more reassuring. 

Not tonight.

“You look rough,” you say, raising your eyebrows in that gentle, teasing way.

He can tell you’re worried. It’s there in the careful tone of your voice, the way your gaze flicks over him like you’re scanning for damage.

“Yeah…” His lips twitch in what might be an attempt at a smile. “I know.”

Before he can stumble out a courtesy greeting, you close the distance, slipping your arms around him and drawing him into a hug. The warmth of your body presses flush against his chest, and he stiffens for half a heartbeat—like he’s not quite sure he has the right to accept this comfort. Then instinct kicks in, and he melts. The tension drains from his shoulders, and he drops his head to the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. The one he never knew he would crave so deeply. 

His arms rise to wrap around your waist, palms splayed against your back as if to steady himself.

“Hi,” you murmur into his hair, voice muffled against his temple.

He breathes you in, a tired sigh slipping out. 

“Hey,” he answers, almost inaudible.

The quiet in the room no longer feels suffocating—it feels like a shared breath, something that belongs to both of you. Your fingers slide into his hair, combing it back gently, and his eyes flutter shut. 

He thinks about how a hug like this might’ve been a luxury in another life—before nightmares and secrets twisted everything into shadows. 

But with your arms around him, he lets himself believe it could be simple. 

Just for a moment. 

He’ll give himself a moment. 

When you finally pull back to look at him, there’s a softness in your expression he’s not sure he deserves. Your attention drifts over his shoulder, landing on the small table behind him. Paper after paper is scattered there—spelling tests, wobbly handwriting, even a few crayon doodles. You tilt your head, curiosity nudging your brow. 

“What’s all that?”

He steps out of your hold, just enough to glance at the mess over his shoulder. Reluctance flickers across his face. 

“Just… some papers I needed to get through,” he says, swallowing. “It’s nothing. Spelling stuff.”

“You can’t possibly do that when your head’s hurting.” 

He’s dealt with worse. 

He shrugs one shoulder in a half-hearted gesture. 

“It’s not so bad,” he tries, though the hesitation in his voice betrays him.

You don’t buy it. He can see the resolve in your stance, the way your chin sets. 

“Trying to concentrate on eight-year-old handwriting is not how to cure a migraine,” you say flatly, giving him a look that shows your playful exacerbation.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” he insists. But even as the words leave his mouth, they sound weak. 

He’s still holding onto that white lie, and guilt gnaws at him from the inside. You’ve already started marching past him toward the table, your gaze determined. 

“Why don’t you sit down and relax?” you say, lifting one stack of papers. “I’ll do it.”

He follows, hand raised in a weak protest. 

“No—hey, that’s my job,” he says, trying for a laugh that doesn’t quite land. “Like, my real actual job.”

The one he needs to keep. 

Your grin appears, brightening the mood without effort. 

“I think I can handle some spelling tests,” you retort, eyeing the pages in your hands. “Pretty sure the complexities of second-grade grammar won’t defeat me.”

He sighs, a smile finally curving his lips for real. It’s small, but it’s genuine. 

“Am I gonna convince you otherwise?” he asks, half-rhetorical.

“Nope,” you say simply, lips shifting smugly as you slide into one of the dining chairs. It’s a look that tells him you won’t budge on this. 

Stubborn as always. 

He stands there for a second, torn between wanting to help and wanting to give in. There’s this warmth building under his ribs, relief and something else—something so dangerously close that he daren’t name. 

“Okay,” he finally murmurs, stepping back. The tension in his spine eases a fraction, and he can almost feel the exhaustion settling in now that he isn’t forcing himself to keep going.

“You gonna stand there or go lie down properly?” you ask, not looking up from the first spelling sheet you’re scanning.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck and drags his feet over to the couch, sinking down into the cushions with an exhale that betrays how tired he truly is. 

“Here’s fine,” he says quietly. 

The idea of vanishing into his bedroom feels unbearable right now. 

Too far. 

Too alone.

It’s selfish—how much he needs to stay near. Near enough to hear your voice, the soft scratch of your pen, proof that you’re there.

He rests his head against the arm of the couch, turning just enough to watch you from across the room. You spare him a glance, understanding flashing in your eyes. 

“Okay,” you accept. .

You stand abruptly and move to the lamp in the corner. A soft click and golden light spills into the room, bathing the scuffed hardwood floors in a gentle sheen. The overhead light blinks off with a flip of the switch, and suddenly everything feels softer, quieter—like you're tucked away in a little sanctuary, a space carved out of the world, just for two.

He shifts, propping one arm under his head, blinking against the change in light. 

“Hey now,” he jokes, words a bit slurred with fatigue, “it’s bad for your eyes.”

“Maybe,” from over by the lamp, you look at him and shrug. “But your head.”

His mouth twitches—he can’t help it. The weight in his chest lifts, just a little. 

“Right,” he mutters in agreement, the fight slipping out of him. 

He’s not sure if he wants to keep up the migraine ruse anymore, but it’s too tangled in everything else. Better to just let you have this small comfort. 

You deserve it.

You’ve been way too good to him—and because of that, he’s dragged you into this mess.

And the worst part? 

He knows he won’t be able to let you go, half-truths are going to have to be enough to compensate for his carelessness. 

You go back to the table, pulling out a chair and settling in with the stack of papers. Your face furrows in concentration as you pick up a pen—his red marking pen, the one he’s been avoiding all day. The faint sound of your writing tip against paper is a soothing background lull.

He watches you, eyelids heavy. He just lets his gaze linger on the shape of your face in the lamplight, the slope of your shoulder as you lean over a misspelled word. He breathes, in and out, feeling a tug in his chest every time you shake your head in mild amusement or scribble a little note in the margin. He closes his eyes, so filled with longing he cannot figure out where to put it all. 

Just let him have tonight.

Let this be all he feels tonight. 

Seconds bleed into minutes, and he’s not sure when his breathing slows, or how his tense muscles start to loosen. Eventually, he feels the calm settle over him, the quiet that used to feel like a noose around his neck. Now it’s more like a blanket—soft, encompassing, safe. He exhales as his eyelids droop.

His mind drifts in a liminal space between wakefulness and the pull of sleep, cocooned by the low lamplight. 

You clear your throat and tap the tip of a red pen against a test paper, amusement lacing your words. 

“One of your kids spelled kitchen like kitchin. I kinda like it,” you say, a small laugh escaping. “It feels… softer.”

He murmurs a response, voice thick from exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” he manages, eyes fluttering open just enough to find your silhouette at the table. “Bet that’s Jackson. He says breakfirst too. I never wanna correct that one.”

His words slur slightly, and he barely registers that he’s smiling. You lift your attention from the paper, your own playing at the corner of your mouth.

“Breakfirst makes sense,” you tease, the pen still in your hand. “It’s the first thing I think of when I wake up.”

He chuckles softly, shifting against the pillow. The motion tugs at his shoulders, reminding him how tight his muscles are. 

“Mhm,” he drawls, eyes sliding shut again. “He told me last week he wakes up thinking about pancakes. Said it just… appears in his brain.”

You snort a laugh, then set the test paper aside, leaning back in your chair. 

“I think I’d like him,” you remark, mock-serious. “He’s got the right idea.”

It’s so easy for him to picture Jackson—a scrawny seven-year-old with an overbite and an endless supply of energy. The image floats into his mind and settles there, a soft spot in the midst of his own troubles. 

He can almost see the bright classroom, the crayons and the whiteboard, the echo of little voices calling him. It feels like a life unshadowed by therapy sessions and the secrets choking him from within.

He lets the moment linger, a comfort in the back of his mind. Then a memory surfaces—one he rarely shares: his mom, the aroma of melted butter, the slowness of an early morning without his dad. It nudges at him, stirs something bittersweet in his chest.

“My mom used to make pancakes when my dad was out of town,” he hears himself say, the words spilling out so softly he almost isn’t sure he’s speaking aloud. He feels you pause. You don’t respond right away, giving him space to unravel the memory if he wants to.

Like you always do.

He swallows, blinking slowly at the ceiling. 

This is a safe one to share.  

“He traveled a lot,” he continues, voice quieter now, each syllable steeped in nostalgia. “Work stuff. Sales, I think—always sounded vague. But when he was gone, it was like… things relaxed a little. She’d let me sleep on the couch, and we’d have pancakes in the morning. Not the box kind, either. She did the whole thing—batter from scratch, butter in the pan, bubbles on top when they were ready to flip. Real old-school.”

Your pen lands gently on the table. He can feel your eyes on him across the distance. He knew you’d appreciate another piece of his past, no matter how small.

What scared him was how much more he wanted to give you.

How easily he’d hand it all over—just from the look on your face.

“That sounds nice,” you say, your voice subdued, maybe to match the mood he’s set. He wonders if you can tell how vulnerable he feels, laying this out for you. 

“She’d put bananas in them sometimes,” he murmurs. “I hated it—but I never told her. Didn’t wanna mess it up. It felt like… I don’t know.” His voice wavers, and he breathes out carefully, as if exhaling might scatter the memory. “A good thing.”

For a moment, all he hears is sound of his own breath. Your voice comes softly across the room. 

“You didn’t want to change it.”

“Yeah.” He nods, eyelids heavy, almost speaking more to himself than to you. “Exactly.”

He slips deeper into the cushions, a sort of melancholy peace settling in his bones. Remembering those mornings—milk and flour and eggs whisked in a bowl, the hiss of the stove, his mom’s rare, relaxed laugh—feels comforting and too big to hold onto. 

It reminds him of being a kid, back before entire worlds twisted into nightmares and scars. Before he had to figure out how to keep people safe by keeping them in the dark.

Outside, the sky is darkening, casting shapeless shadows across the walls. You rustle the papers again, returning to your marking with diligence. That rhythmic scritch, pulls him back from the edges of old memories.

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again, barely conscious, his words filled with drowsiness. A little piece of anxiety wells in him suddenly—intrusive. 

It’s about the kids—about whether they notice the days he can’t quite summon his usual energy. The way he knows he’ll be tomorrow, when the smile won’t come as easily, no matter how hard he tries.

He hates asking you this. It’s the kind of thing he’d usually save for Dr Avery, but that isn’t an option now. It feels cruel—testing the waters just for his own peace of mind, leaning on you to give him the direction he can’t find on his own.

His voice is small when he finally asks. His eyes half-lidded, drifting toward you, too tired to stay open all the way.

“D’you think the kids…"

Fuck, this is hard.

"D'you think... they know when I’m having a bad day?”

You pause for a moment, shaking your head as your eyes meet his, looking at him like he just hung the moon. It undoes him utterly, the way you let out a gentle sigh,

“I think…” you speak slow, perhaps to allow his exhausted mind to keep up, but the words end up hitting him twice as hard. 

“I think they know you’d still show up for them anyway. It’s… just who you are, Steve.”

It's just who he is...

Is that how you see him?

He absorbs the statement slowly, like it needs time to settle in his bones. There’s a kind of weight to it—the raw honesty behind every word you offered, like you handpicked them with care, laid them down gently just for him.

It loosens something deep in his chest. A knot he didn’t even know he was carrying starts to unspool.

He doesn’t feel like he’s a failure.

Maybe he is a mess. Maybe he’s always been a little broken, stitched together with stubbornness and guilt and whatever scraps of hope he can still find—but he’s here. 

He’s trying. 

He’s still showing up.

That has to count for something.

His eyes drift shut at last, sleep too heavy to fight. Maybe he can let himself rest a little. Just for now, with you close by. He breathes out, chin dipping into the pillow, and finally gives himself permission to fall.

As his consciousness fades, he holds onto one stubborn wish: later that evening, when he opens his eyes, you’ll still be there, still close enough to chase the doubt out of his mind—at least for a little while longer.

When Steve’s eyelids flutter open, it takes him a second to remember where he is—or why everything suddenly feels this peaceful. 

The living room is draped in darkness, the overhead lamp turned off in favour of a single warm light coming from the kitchen. For a disoriented moment, he hears nothing. Then a soft clink of metal on ceramic reaches his ears, followed by a faint hiss and the gentle scrape of something in a pan.

He pushes himself upright, blinking the last traces of sleep from his eyes. The couch creaks and the fabric of his jumper feels slightly rumpled from dozing. He rubs the back of his neck, rolls his shoulders, wincing at the dull ache there. 

A quick glance at the window tells him night has fully settled over Hawkins—streetlights glow faintly outside, their beams catching on the air.

The heaviness he’s carried around for days has receded, at least for the moment. His head doesn’t throb. His chest feels looser, the anxiety dulled. 

That sure as hell isn’t just from the nap. 

Slowly, he stands, letting the blanket slide off his hips, and runs a hand down the front of his jumper. His bare feet touch the floor with soft thumps as he pads toward the kitchen, one sleeve pulled over his hand like a restless kid, not even realising he’s doing it.

The closer he gets, the more the smell of butter wraps around him. He’s struck by how surreal it all seems—like stepping into a memory. Except it’s not some dusty recollection from his childhood. 

He stops in the doorway, half-hidden by the frame, and sees you standing at the stove. You’ve rolled your sleeves past your elbows. There’s a mixing bowl on the counter, a spatula in your hand, and the sizzle of batter hitting hot butter is the only real noise besides his own breath. 

Plates are stacked on a small portion of the counter you’ve managed to clear. A current of tenderness runs through the space—through him—that has little to do with the heat of the stove.

“Hey,” he says softly, still a little groggy. His voice is low, reverent, like he’s afraid speaking too loudly will shatter the spell.

You glance over your shoulder, a quick smile flicking across your face as you meet his eyes. 

“Hey,” you answer, tone hushed not to hurt his head. “How’re you feeling?”

He swallows, stepping into the kitchen a bit more, hand trailing against the wall. 

“Much better,” he admits. 

And he realises, in that moment, it’s true. 

The tension in his spine has eased. When he looks at you, all sweet in his space, the last of his fears feel like they’re retreating into the corners of his mind. 

“What’re you doing?” he adds, voice soft, curious.

“Making dinner,” you reply with a casual shrug, turning back to the stove.

You slide the spatula and lift it, revealing a perfect golden underside. As you flip, the batter sizzles, sending up a little puff of fragrant steam. You nod toward the mixing bowl. 

“Figured something simple might do the trick,” you say quietly. “And, y’know, you mentioned them.”

He lingers a step longer, breath catching in his chest as he’s catapulted back into the memory he shared with you earlier. The smell of a hot pan threads nostalgia through his core, tangling with the gratitude he feels in this moment, watching you do something so unexpectedly thoughtful. It renders him speechless.

“Pancakes,” he manages finally, the word falling from his lips, soaked in wonder.

You glance back, giving him a small smile. 

“Don’t worry,” you say, catching the weight of that memory in his eyes. “You don’t have any bananas.”

You really were something else. 

He exhales a shaky laugh through his nose. It’s almost real—almost. It slips out unsteady, because there’s something about the simplicity of it all. The way you act like the world could be set right with just this—this one small, human thing.

And what floors him, is that for a second—God, maybe longer—he believes you.

Believes it could be that simple. 

You gesture with the spatula toward the small dining table. 

“Go on,” you suggest, “sit.” 

There’s a gentle command in your tone, like you’re used to looking after him—even if, not so long ago, he would’ve insisted he didn’t need it.

He obeys, walking over on slightly unsteady legs. 

Obeys.

The word sounds strange, but it’s accurate: you speak, and he follows. Not because he’s weak, but because you make him feel safe. You make him feel seen. And in that safety, he allows himself to lean on you more than he’d ever planned.

Drawing a chair out, he settles into it with an exhale, placing his elbows on the tabletop. The wood is cool through the knit material, and he can feel the faint vibration of your movements through the floor. Figures form in gentle arcs along the cabinets, as if the night outside has pressed its nose to the windows but hasn’t dared to intrude.

He’s spent a lot of time alone here, pacing the small perimeter while his mind churned with old memories. 

He wonders if this is what normal looks like. If other people get moments like these all the time—moments where the person they trust wanders into their space, rummages in their cupboards, whips up something simple that tastes like childhood. 

If so, he thinks he’s missed out for too long. 

Please let him keep this.

Just for a little while.

He’s not sure how long he watches you. He’s content to let the seconds stretch, your quiet movements hypnotising him. The whisk tapping the side of the bowl, your gentle footstep shifting weight. 

When you finally switch off the burner and turn to face him, plate in hand, he’s still staring. You serve the pancakes on the two most similar plates you can find—he doesn’t exactly have a matching set. You slide one in front of him, the other in front of you, the only sounds are the dull scrape of forks cutting through soft batter, the occasional drip of syrup pooling on porcelain.

He lifts a bite to his mouth, nodding in faint approval as he chews. His jaw still feels tense, like it’s absorbing some leftover stress. Beneath the table, his leg bounces with restless energy, but outwardly, he tries to keep calm. You watch him, noticing the slight furrow in his brow. Neither of you speak until you finish the first few bites; the tension in the air is subtle, but it lingers.

“You going into work tomorrow?” you ask, casual enough that someone who didn’t know him might think it an idle question. But he senses the concern under your tone. 

You’re not prying, exactly—just checking in.

“Yeah.” He nods, quickly swallowing. “I’ll drop you back home after this, don’t worry.” 

The words come out automatically, as if he’s already set a plan for the day: take you home, show up, teach the kids. Everyone safe and accounted for.

You carefully set your fork down, the faint clink slicing through the atmosphere. Your gaze holds him a second longer than normal. 

“I’m not leaving,” you say softly.

“What?”

“What if…” Your voice takes on a cautious edge.  “What happened last time… happens again?”

Last time?

Oh.

Angel, don’t do this to me. 

He goes rigid. The memory knifes through his mind like a jolt of cold water: the flash of your startled eyes when he’d woken gasping, his fingers clamped around your arm before he even registered he was awake. The shame of your worried face as he stammered an apology, trembling with leftover panic from the dark corners of his sleep. A strangled feeling clutches his chest, and he drops his gaze to the plate. 

“It’s not gonna be like that,” he murmurs, his voice guilty.

“I already packed my pyjamas.”

He sits back in the chair. 

The effect you have on his is downright dangerous. 

A part of him wants to argue—he doesn’t deserve this level of care, not when his baggage bleeds into reality and threatens to drag you with them. 

“No, seriously,” he presses, voice quieter now. “I’m gonna be just fine.” 

There’s a self-loathing edge to the words because he knows it’s not true. You sense it in an instant.

“I’ll take the couch, alright?” you say. That softer note creeps into your voice, the one that tells him you’re not afraid of him—you’re just concerned. 

“Won’t be able to sleep if I’m worried about you.”

Something clenches in his throat, and he drops his head into his hands. His fingers thread through his hair, gripping it lightly as if that might keep his thoughts from spiraling. Another ragged breath escapes him. 

“You’re not taking the couch,” he mutters, muffled behind his palms. The image of you spending the night curled in discomfort while he’s holed up in his bed feels all wrong.

“If you’re feeling rough,” you insist, “you need your own bed. Please just… let me stay.”

He can’t look at you right away, eyes still trained on the dark space between his knees. The weight of everything squeezes his stomach. He drags his eyes up. And there you are, watching him with genuine concern—no pity, no judgment. 

He sees it in your eyes—there is no budging on this.

“Okay,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

A small smile crosses your features, one he has no right to feel pride at. You pick up your fork again, like this decision was the easiest thing in the world. 

He glances at the swirl of syrup pooling around the edges of the plate, but he can’t bring himself to take another bite. 

All along, he thought he was the selfless one.

He lies in bed, sheets tangled around his hips, trying to convince himself that stillness might bring sleep. 

One arm is flung over his eyes, pressing down as if he can block out the cacophony of thoughts that refuse to be quiet. The dark presses in, broken only by the light of the clock—each minute passes in silence, ratcheting up his restlessness. 

He rolls onto his left side, then back onto his right, shutting his eyes as hard as he can. 

Come on, breathe in, breathe out… 

His therapist’s voice echoes in his memory, urging him to focus on his heartbeat, to ground himself. But his brain crackles with tension, refusing to comply.

The advice feels fake now, anyway.

He flips again, this time onto his stomach. It doesn’t help. His jaw is clenched so hard he can practically feel the ache up into his temples.

When the sheets start to feel suffocating, he snaps upright and shoves them away. His legs swing over the edge of the mattress, feet meeting the cool floor. A hiss of breath leaves him—everything feels too loud despite the silence. 

He drags a hand over his face, scrubbing at his chin like he’s trying to scrape away the anxiety. He stands, letting the duvet pool behind him as he pads barefoot out into the hallway.

The living room is dim. He notices the lamp's still on, a small puddle of light that silhouettes your form on the couch. You’re curled up, fast asleep under an old throw blanket, one arm tucked beneath your cheek. Your breathing is gentle, the rise and fall of your shoulders almost imperceptible. 

You looked so soft.

He tells himself he should go back to bed, not disturb you, let you have your rest. But there’s a stronger voice in him—the one that urges his forwards. 

It’s a jarring realisation that knocks something loose in him.

You’re becoming the next point of call when things get rough. The person he turns to now, instinctively, without thinking. And what unsettles him most is knowing you’d be glad to hear that. You’d take it as a sign of closeness, of trust.

But it feels cruel.

Cruel that you’d take pride in being his safe place when you still don’t know the full extent of what you’re stepping into. Cruel that he’s letting you play nurse to wounds he hasn’t even shown you yet.

He shouldn’t need you like this.

But he is going to be cruel, just for tonight. 

He brushes a strand of hair off your forehead. The small touch makes you stir, and your eyelids flutter open. Confusion flickers across your features until you register it’s him crouched there, face etched with concern.

“Steve?” You mumble, voice foggy with sleep. “Are—are you alright? Did something happen?”

You’re panicking because of him, and it makes it ache even worse.

“Hey—hey, it’s alright,” he murmurs, voice soft as he tries to soothe you. “Nothing happened. I promise.”

You start to push yourself upright, the blanket sliding off one shoulder to get a better look at him. The shape of your arm emerges, goosebumps prickling from the cool air. He swallows, feeling another wave of guilt that you even have to sleep out here. 

On the couch for God's sake. 

“I just… can’t sleep,” he admits, voice dropping. The confession tastes vulnerable on his tongue. 

It sounds pathetic—like a kid who never figured out how to function.

“Bad night?” you ask, still blinking sleep from your eyes. Your hand finds his forearm, thumb brushing lightly over his skin. Even that tiny touch feels like a lifeline.

“Yeah. I don’t know.” He nods as he lets out a shuddery breath. “Everything feels… loud.”

His request is simple, but the desperation laced in his voice betrays just how badly he needs the answer.

“Will you… come to bed with me?”

You still. The air between you tightens. He can see the caution in your eyes, the trace of a memory of the time before. He hates that he’s the cause of that worry. 

“Steve, I—I don’t know.” Your gaze drops to your lap as you recall his grip on your wrist, the way he shot out the door without so much as an explanation. “Last time, you were so out of it, and I didn’t know what to do, and you—”

“I know,” he interrupts, leaning in just enough that you feel the warmth radiating from him. “I know. And I’m sorry—I really am.” His voice wavers, and he takes a shaky breath. He wants to reach for your hand but forces himself to keep still, give you space. 

“But—but it’s not gonna be like that tonight. I’m okay, I just… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You search his face, like you’re checking for any sign of doubt. Your gaze wanders over the weariness lining his eyes, the way his shoulders slump, the vulnerability in his expression. 

“...Are you sure?” You ask softly, a thousand questions and concerns pooling behind the simple words.

He’s sure. 

He wouldn’t put you in that kind of danger. 

“Yeah. I just—please.” 

He doesn’t care that it sounds like begging. Right now, he is begging. 

Your eyes dart between his, and you sigh softly. In the low light, he looks worn down—like that earlier nap had only skimmed the surface of whatever’s been dragging him under. 

It doesn’t take long to decide. The fact that he’s asking at all tells you everything. He wouldn’t, not unless he was sure. This isn’t casual. It’s something close to desperate.

“Okay.” Another short pause, your hand still on his forearm. “Okay. Just give me a sec.”

You shift the blanket aside and stand, the couch springs creaking as you move. He rises too, unfolding himself from his crouch. There’s an awkward silence where neither of you speaks. He feels like he should apologise—but where to start, he isn’t quite sure yet.

He extends his hand, fingers itching to hold your own. He leads you down the hall, every step slow. At the threshold of his bedroom, the air cools, and he can feel your hesitation in the slight drag of your feet. It sparks another pang of guilt. 

He nearly drops your hand, ready to say it’s okay, you don’t have to do this. But you tighten your grip, an assurance that you’re choosing to stay.

The bed is still rumpled, blankets half on the floor from where he stormed out. Silently, you both gather them up. You toss one over the mattress, smoothing it down just enough to make room to lie on.

When you finally slip under the covers, he follows, gingerly settling next to you on the mattress. He keeps to his side at first, giving you space.

The moment stretches—two heartbeats, three. 

The tension is palpable, and he regrets getting up in the first place. You turn onto your side, facing him, catching his eyes with your own. They’re wide, and beautiful. 

So fucking beautiful. 

There you go, looking at him like that again 

You look weary, and he bets he does too, so he can blame the sleep when he reaches out. He slips an arm around your waist and waits—just waits. Allowing you to choose how close to him you will get. 

He doesn’t let out his breath until you nestle closer, allowing him to tuck his chin over your head, the long exhale that seems to pour into the darkness. 

“You okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers.

He hopes he will be. 

He senses your small smile, lips curving upward against his jumper, a subtle shift in your posture as you settle down. 

“Get some sleep,” you murmur, reaching curl your arm around his waist, mirroring his position. 

“I will, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. 

He will, but not yet. 

First, he waits for your breathing to slow, for your shoulders to uncoil, for sleep to settle over you. Guilt weighs on him for putting you through this—sleeping beside someone you believe isn’t okay. 

He isn’t, but there’s a sick sixth sense inside him that warns when a night will be rough. Tonight won’t be, though. 

He’s sure of it.

What he’s just done feels like a trial, a test of whether you’d follow him, stay with him. It troubles him the more he thinks about it, but there’s no other way to explain it. 

He needed to know if you would—because if you did, it’d mean you feel for him what he feels for you.

He might be hopeless when it came to saying how he felt—couldn’t talk to his parents, had to be cornered by Robin, nearly let it all slip through his fingers just trying to name what was going on. 

But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it.

Steve felt things—deeply, messily, all at once. Always had. He’d felt this particular emotion before, or thought he had, in flashes: in borrowed bedrooms, first relationships, and soft pink roses. Young and dumb, sticky and sweet, like he saw in the movies. 

But it was never like this. This was bigger than him, something that carried a risk—like most things now did. 

Everything in his life felt more intense now. 

This was no exception. 

He felt it in every part of him. For the first time in years, he was glad he could still feel that much. That he hadn’t gone numb to it.

He held you, a secret he needed to keep. Even if he couldn’t give you every word of it, Steve Harrington knew what this was.

He knew what love felt like.

He’d fallen into it.

He knew better, but he chose to anyway—damned the fallout, and damn the cost.

It meant he could keep you to himself, just a little while longer.

taglist: @daisy-is-a-writer @chiliwhore @kvroomi @just-lilita @negomi123 @catluver02 @tinythebunni @everythinghasafacee @irrelevantbutembarrassing @almostfullstarfish @aurora-austen @yourgirlfriennd @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles 

[itsrensfairygardenn]

dilf!art can't fall asleep without having skin-to-skin contact with you 🫂 that’s the reason why he always sleeps naked. he’s really trying to get rid of this habit, but last time he went to sleep wearing this expensive and really soft pajamas that you’d bought him, he ended up taking the shirt off in the middle of the night, throwing it on the floor, because it’s too stuffy in the bedroom, he can’t move freely, and well… he can’t fully feel your silky skin against his chest.

honestly it’s really sweet, because he loves you so much that he’s all over you even when he’s asleep. his hand is under your shirt, flat on your stomach when he’s pulling you closer to him, or on your lower back, under the waistband of your shorts. his nose is literally buried in your hair, so sometimes you’re not sure if he’s even able to breathe. but he’s okay with the scent of your shampoo and perfume being his oxygen.

when for any reason you’re not with him (when either of you is away for work for example) he sleeps with your pillow in his tight embrace, inhaling the scent of you on the pillowcase. he’s also carrying a travel size of your perfume in his suitcase when you can’t make it to a business trip with him.

and in the morning? he’s a sight to behold. no wonder you’re waking up first every day, only to catch the sight of him sleeping in nothing but his briefs. i mean, of course you don’t want to miss the view of him sprawling on the mattress in the early morning sunlight, almost glowing like a porcelain figurine. it’s not a problem for him to wake up early, when he wakes up from the feeling of your lips on his chest, or behind his ear, whispering something sweet to him. he’s so smiley and sleepy, that sometimes you just end up tickling him to hear this extremely attractive hoarse laugh </3 and then kissing his chest and stomach again </3

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the repercussions to rinse away

buttercup, chapter nine

a/n: was shower sex at the very top of my list of things to include in the new chapters? fuck yeah it was, as it should be. double bingo because he'd also super hurt, but like in the slutty way that he does it (you know exactly what i'm talking about. just look at the gif i made right up there if you need a visual aid)

summary: “…I want to ask you about how this happened, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna tell me…” 

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, hurt/comfort, injuries, blood, kissing, shower sex, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, impact play, pussyjob, thighjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, protected sex, penetrative sex, cockwarming

word count: 4163

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“Knock, knock,” you hummed as you pushed open the door to Nelson and Murdock, peeking inside before you crossed the threshold completely. As your eyes flickered away from the empty offices, they then landed on the kitchenette off to the left where the only remaining employee stood. 

“Hey,” Matt twisted his head in your direction to flash you the soft smile that promptly blossomed on his lip, as the sound of your voice melted into him like sweet hot chocolate on his tongue, warming him from the inside. 

As his fingers went back to fixing himself a cup of coffee, extending to click on the electric kettle, you stepped closer before he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“So…” you breathed, slightly tense as his lips faded from your skin, “…are you alright?” 

“Hm?” his brows knit together gently, “yeah, of course, I’m fine.” 

“Okay, good,” you leaned against the counter with an exhale, “it’s just when you didn’t show up last night, I got a bit worried.” 

“Shit,” he cursed sharply as it all came rushing back to him at once, “sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

Since today had been an early morning shift for you, the plan had been for Matt to let himself into your apartment last night after his patrol, so that your paths could, at the very least, cross for a brief moment instead of waiting multiple days for your schedules to once again align. But instead of feeling the comfort of his presence slip into bed beside you, he never came, and even when you dragged yourself out of bed while it was still pitch black outside in order to make it to the bakery when the clock struck four, fear had swayed you to briefly peek inside of his neighbouring apartment, as a detour when you slipped out of your own, but he was still nowhere to be seen. 

“It’s okay, I understand,” you gracefully swallowed the lingering disappointment, “you probably just lost track of time, saving people who needed it, or just plain forgot,” you shared the theories you’d cooked up while you’d worked the early shift you’d clocked out of just before wandering over here, “or maybe we just missed each other, you got home right when I left, or maybe you didn’t wanna wake me up…” 

Grasping your hand as the kettle clicked beside him, now puffing with steam, he exhaled, “what can I do to make it up to you?” 

Pursing your lips as you thought through the options, you then suggested, “how about I sleep in your bed tonight,” your finger lightly poked his chest before catching his tie and gently running your thumb and forefinger down the silky strand, “and that way we won’t miss each other tomorrow?” 

“Deal,” he smiled, stealing a swift peck before he finished brewing his simple cup of coffee.

Though when his feet then began to shift across the floor for the first time since you’d stepped into the office, a furrow found your brow as you noticed how stiffly he was walking, carefully rounding the corner, mug clutched in one hand as the other palm trailed the wall on his way back to his own desk.  

“…why are you walking like that?” you tilted your head as you picked up on more of the obvious signs than just the pained facial expressions that he tried his best to suppress. 

“Like what?” he tried to act like a kid who hadn’t just been caught with their hand down the cookie jar. 

“Matthew…” your head faintly twisted from side to side as impatience overtook you and you continued to stare at him in concern, “don’t–…” 

“Don’t what?” he kept his tone innocent, though didn’t spin back to face your overflowing worry. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, your eyes narrowed before you uttered, “…take off your shirt.” 

However, he still went on shielding you from the truth as he instead plastered on a smirk and croaked, “alright, sure,” placing his cup down on his desk as he finally whirled around to face you, “if that’s a way I can make it up to you, but just so you know before you start stripping as well, Foggy and Karen will be back any second.” 

“Oh, stop! That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” you snapped, snuffing out his charm, “take it off,” you repeated firmly and watched as the faux grin finally dropped from his lips, “let me see.” 

Slowly, he reached up to tug at his tie, carefully slipping it over his head before his fingers began to work at the buttons down his crisp shirt and flickers of agony flashed across his features before it finally parted enough for you to see. 

“Oh, Matt…” you exhaled as you spotted the grievous wounds sporadically scattered across the sliver of his torso on display for you, all of them shielded behind blood-tainted bandages. 

“I’m okay,” he gently grasped your hands as your fingers reached out to trace a ghostly touch safely along the skin beside some of the injuries.  

“What happened?” you whispered as you tried to keep the reins on your imagination and not let it run wild. 

“Sweetheart, this is nothing–” 

“It doesn’t fucking look like nothing! Is this why you didn’t show up last night?” you asked before the guilty look that flashed across his features became all the answer you needed, “Matt…” 

“I’m sorry,” he uttered softly. 

“You should have called me, I could have come, instead of you just lying unconscious and bleeding out in an alley somewhere,” you pleaded quietly. 

“I wasn’t bleeding out in an alley,” he said, attempting to calm your erratic nerves, “Y/n, I’m fine, I promise. It looks a lot worse than it is.” 

“How did it even happen? Are you in danger? Is someone after you?” 

“It was nothing,” his head faintly shook from his to side as he tightened his grip on your hands, “baby, it was nothing, okay?”  

“…okay…” you hesitantly nodded, doing your best to let go of the fear still churning your stomach, “…you know, maybe it would be smart if I learned a little bit more about medicine since things like this are a much more common occurrence for you than I think I realised…” you blinked back down at his beaten and bruised skin, your fingertips briefly catching the hem of his open shirt. 

“I can teach you what I know,” he tilted closer, grasping your cheek before he pressed a kiss to your lips, “…so,” the corners of his mouth twisted upwards as he then shifted topics in an effort to distract you from the remainder of your worries, “was it a no then on the quickie before the others get back?” 

It was a stifled groan that woke you from your slumber. 

Slowly blinking your eyes open, as you layed curled on your side, alone in your boyfriend’s bed, you had to squint before you saw the figure on the other side of the apartment, sitting by the dining table in the dark. 

With his black mask dangling off the edge of the table, Matt’s fingers froze before they could reach back into the open first aid kit as his head tilted and he heard how your legs shifted slightly beneath the dove grey duvet as you woke up. 

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he called out quietly, keeping his back turned to you as he stayed still and tried to not let you notice what he was doing, “I’ll be there in a second.”

But instead, you sucked in a breath and crawled out of bed. Your soft nightgown unravelled and tumbled down around your thighs from where it had been gathered up around your waist while you were sleeping. 

A long sigh slipped from Matt when your bare feet neared him and his current state became impossible for him to hide. His tight black shirt was pushed up to his waist, exposing the wound just above his hip, one that you’d spotted earlier that day back in the office, though now it was no longer neatly bandaged, but instead slowly leaking blood as he worked at stitching it back closed. 

“Matt…” you breathed as your eyes flickered everywhere from his bloody nose to the small knicks that had sliced through the thin material of his shirt.

Bathed by the neon lights that leaked in through the tall windows behind him, he simply exhaled, “I’m fine,” as he reached for a clean cotton pad in the first aid kit and dabbed it against the wound he was patching back up, swiftly swallowing a grunt of pain as the gauze was slowly stained crimson. 

“You can’t keep saying that,” you pulled out the chair next to him and sank down, “tell me what to do.” 

“You don’t have to,” he gritted his teeth as he pierced the curved needle in his grasp through his skin one last time before tying the thread off with a tiny knot, “I can handle it myself–” 

“Matthew! Will you please just shut up and let me help?” you barked, finally cutting through his stubbornness before you watched an exhale slip from his lungs and his head slowly tilted in a nod, “thank you,” you huffed before scooting a bit closer, “now, please be honest this time, how bad is it?” 

“I promise, it’s not that bad,” he uttered as his hand that clutched to cotton wad kept on putting some pressure over the freshly closed-up laceration.

“Do you need any more stitches anywhere else?” your eyes kept on scanning his bruised body, noting as he spoke the bloody gash that split up his lip. 

“No, it was just this one that popped back open,” he carefully took the swab away from the wound with tender dabs, the needle that still dangled from the thread swung gently from the friction, “I just need to get cleaned up, maybe a few bandages and I’ll be fine,” he tried to flash you a smile, though the brave face didn’t help the way that he’d hoped. 

All he could hear was how fast your pulse was beating as you stared at him, tears threatening to spring forth as your heart nearly burst straight out of your chest. 

“Y/n,” his hand swiftly found your own, “hey,” he uttered gently, “take a breath… take a breath…” his head faintly nodded in soft encouragement as he steered you to finally fill your lungs properly. 

As your shoulders finally began to relax, you felt him let go of your palm again before his fingers went back to work. 

“What do you need me to do?” you asked once more. 

Tilting his head towards the first aid box, he murmured, “you can grab the scissors.” 

And as you grasped it, you watched as he then leaned back in the chair, a jagged breath slipping from his lungs as he shifted, before he plucked up the dangling needle and held it out for you to snip the thread. 

“Like that?” you asked once you’d cut through the thin cord, nervous that you’d somehow messed the small task up. 

But as he brushed his fingertips against the short string that remained at the end of the row of stitches he’d knotted, the corner of his lip twitched as he uttered, “perfect,” before he carefully tugged his shirt back down over his stomach. 

A long exhale escaped Matt as he finally let himself relax and fall back down from the highs the events of his night had brought him to. For a while, you both just sat there in silence as he sank further into the serenity he’d made his way back to. 

But then, as his eyes fluttered closed, you parted your lips and uttered, “…I want to ask you about how this happened, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna tell me…” 

Face briefly threatening to scrunch up at the frustration that bubbled up in him, he muttered, “sweetheart–”

“But I just wanna say that even though I know why you don’t like to talk to me about the details,” you cut him off before he had the chance to stop you, “sometimes it doesn’t protect me, sometimes my active imagination takes a hold and tries to fill in the blanks in ways that are surely so much worse than the reality…” 

Sucking in a breath, a second passed before he said, “…you really wanna know?” 

“Yes,” you swiftly nodded, leaning in a tad closer in your seat. 

Sitting up a bit more, he planted a forearm for support on the table before he began to tell you, “a few weeks back I intervened in this trafficking deal, two dozen women and kids, ready to be shipped off like lambs at the slaughter,” his hand gestured alongside his words, “turns out it was connected to something much bigger than I had thought,” he exhaled before uttering, “do you know who Joseph Giordano is?” 

“I don’t think so,” you murmured slowly, “why?”

“He is next in line to the throne in the Giordano crime family.”

Your brows then knit together as you blinked back at him, “…are you saying that there’s an entire mob after you right now?” 

“Well, I don’t know if they’re after me, I’ve just pissed them off a few times,” he tried to downplay his situation in order to calm your nerves that began to pick back up again, thumping in his ears like the booming base at a club. 

“Is that what happened tonight? You pissed them off again?” you looked once again to how hurt he was before he begrudgingly began to nod his head faintly, “…so, how worried should I be?”

“It's nothing I can’t handle,” he uttered as his years of experience shined clear through his tone. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “I am so close to putting a stop to them, all of them, making them pay for all the shit that they’ve done,” his sentence culminated in a heated huff before he let it go. Carefully rising from his seat, he briefly flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he changed the subject, “I’m gonna go clean up, you head back to bed.”

“No, I’ll–,” you swiftly stood up as well, “let me give you a hand.” 

Pausing just before he began to shift close to the bathroom, he then murmured, “alright,” before he let you grab his palm and shadow him with every careful step. 

Reaching an arm into the shower, you turned on the water so that it could begin to rise to a temperature that wasn’t like having snow dumped down over you. As you twisted back around, you spotted Matt’s features, faintly screwed up, as he cautiously peeled his shirt off, though before it could slip over his head, your fingers caught the tail end of it.

As you dropped it down on the edge of the sink, Matt’s hands found his belt, although before his nimble fingers could begin to undo it, your own touch landed upon his own before his palms slipped out from under yours and he let you take over. 

First, you kneeled down before him and slipped off his boots, pushing them off to the side before you straightened back up to undo his pants, gently tugging them alongside his dark boxers. 

As you rose back up with the last of his black vigilantly suit in hand, your partner’s wide palms naturally found your waist in a soft graze, before your fingers then drifted to the hem of your nightgown and he felt the fabric slip beneath his touch as you pulled it over your head.

Dropping it down on the top of his own clothing, piled up on the edge of the sink, you then grabbed his hand once again before your feet began to shuffle against the tile, backing up till you were both in the shower. Twisting you both around, you slowly guided him under the drizzle of water, still holding his palm in yours as it began to rain down on his battered form. 

The water turned a ruddy shade as it cascaded over his body and gently washed the blood away. Gingerly, you let your fingers ghost over his injuries, being careful as you helped clean them. His eyes fluttered closed when your touch floated up from his chest to his jaw before you softly swept over the crimson that had dried in a trickled path from the gash on his forehead, his nostrils from the blow his nose evidently had taken, as well as from the small cut on his lip that had begun to puff it up slightly. 

Gliding your hands down to his hips, you gently guided him around for his broad back to face you. As your hands skimmed over the fresher damages, your touch couldn’t help but slow as you blinked back at the gnarly old scars that split up his skin. You’d likewise been staring at the ones all over the rest of his flesh as your touch swept across his body, but as he stood, facing away from you, the intimate graze of your fingertips couldn’t help but slide up and trace the long marks. 

You barely realised that you’d stopped your aiding efforts till it was just your thumb lightly brushing against one of his scars, back and forth in short swoops, before you closed the short distance and pressed a tender peck to the middle of his spine. 

Though as your touch slowly returned to their work, his hand suddenly snatched up one of yours. His feet shifted slightly, angling him only partly back to face you, he raised your palm up as he bowed his head to meet the back of it and press your hand to his lips. 

Ripping your gaze away from his broad back as it slowly twisted away from you, it swiftly drifted up to Matt’s features, faintly wistful as he planted the soft peck to the back of your palm. When he came to face you once again, his other hand swept up your frame till it came to cup your cheek. 

A soft breath flowed from his nostrils before he uttered, “I love you…” in a tone that made it sound as if he was thanking you, before he then tilted your face up as he bent down to gently press his lips to your own. 

For a while, he kissed you as if he was trying to make time itself stop, as it stretched on, slow and smouldering, light on your lips. But then, while the hand he had on your cheek stayed in place, the other one let go of your palm and drifted down around your waist, gently caressing your side before his fingers slightly dented your skin as he drew you in closer and the light pecks morphed and deepened so slowly that you barely registered the change he had initiated till your tongue was suddenly dancing heatedly against his own. 

His touch on the side of your face soon faded as it instead slipped down the landscape of your body and a heavy intake of air rushed in through his nose as the kiss then grew more desperate. Though as you hugged him closer, careful with your touch, a quiet gasp suddenly bubbled up your throat as his frame finally pressed flush up against your own and you felt the hardness that now poked you in your stomach. 

“Matty…” you breathed in between ravenous pecks as his cock throbbed against your skin. 

A low groan rumbled in his chest as his wide palms then swooped down over the curve of your ass, briefly digging his touch into your softness and making your cunt clench around nothing, before his knees then bent slightly and his hard length slotted in between your thighs, perfectly slipping against your pussy. 

Letting the devil out, Matthew then let himself rut against your folds, a gravelly grunt rolling off his tongue as he momentarily rested his forehead against your own.  

“O-oh, fuck…” you moaned as his hardness continued to nudge against you, parting your slick petals with his fat girth. Hazily tilting your head back at the feeling, you soon felt his lips flutter down your neck, “Matt…” 

Though your pants continued to grow unanswered as your partner only growled in response before one of his hands soared up to capture your jaw and tilt your head for your lips to come crashing back against his own in a feverish kiss.  

Shifting your frame, he then brought your legs closer together till the softness of your thighs hugged around his length still slotted against your pussy. With his hold still digging into the softness of your bottom, he then began to fuck your thighs, though with each needy thrust he granted himself, the details of his cock still dragged against your buzzing clit and made you whimper against his kiss. 

And when you were both on the verge of exploding, nearly too pent up to keep your balance on the wet tile floor, he hastily reached an arm out of the shower and grabbed a condom from the medicine cabinet. Snatching it from his hands, you panted as you rolled it on him, briefly raising yourself up to stand on your toes to steal a breathless peck from him as your fingers twisted the latex into place, granting him a soft stroke once you’d finished. 

Long moans drew forth from both of you when he slowly slid inside, his forehead melting down against your own as he paused at the very tip, letting your cunt clench around his girth a moment before gradually giving you more in shallow thrusts. 

Whimpering to the rhythm of his steady pace, you blinked up at him and panted, “I love you,” before he then crashed his lips against your own. Tilting your hips slightly as he gently rocked inside of you, slowly dragging his cock out of your pussy, most of the way, till he dove himself back in once more, each time burying himself a little deeper than before. 

Your palms slid up his burly chest before your touch tangled around his neck, holding on tight as his desperate grunts melted against your tongue. Matt’s grasp, still on your ass, dented your flesh further as he then began to move your body for you, dragging your hips closer to meet his bucks and grant him the angle to go even deeper, filling you up till your eyes rolled in your skull. His hands swiftly tapped against your butt as he found a greedy pace, one that caused your pussy to sing sinfully over the splashing of the showerhead still pouring down over the both of you. 

The next thing you knew, Matthew then snapped, losing the last bit of self-control he had left after the long night he’d had, and drowned himself completely in the one pleasure that his soul ached for. Feverishly, he suddenly plucked you up off the wet tile, his fat length still nestled deep within you as he picked you up into his arms. 

“Oh my god,” you yelped as he rooted his strong hold under your ass, “wait, no,” your nails instinctively dug into the nape of his neck, “you’re hurt–”

But he only cut you off with a quiet, “shh…” as his nose brushed against your own before he uttered in a gravelly tone, “trust me when I say, I can take a lot more than this when I’m way worse off.” 

And with you in his arms, he then readjusted his grip on you, briefly tossing you up a smidge, before he then sank you back down onto his cock, plugging you up till you couldn’t help but let out a shaky moan as your brain momentarily went blank in the ecstasy.  

Toes curling, you whimpered, “j-just be careful,” as you spread out your fingers till they weaved through the short hair at the back of his head. 

But rather than of playing it safe like you begged him to, he instead just tightened his hold on you as he growled, “I’ll be careful later,” before he then went to town, pounding away till the showerhead above wasn’t the only thing gushing. 

And when Matt finally came undone, after you began to fear he might not snap out of his ravenous haze till the sun rose, fucking your pussy till you could no longer stand on your own two feet, your spine was plastered against the tile wall as his head melted down against your shoulder. The shower went on running as he kept you in his arms, both of you panting as he granted himself the gift of staying warm inside your fluttering cunt even longer and further drawing out the bliss to balance out the night that he had endured. 

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[channieschaoscorner]

Co-Leader - Stray Kids x female!9th member reader

Pairing: ot8!Skz x 9th member!reader

Summary: Chan always tries his best to look after the boys but when he inevitably burns himself out, it’s time for you to step up.

Genre: Bit of angst, bits of fluff, mentions of illness, food restrictions, mean comments to skz, overworked and burnt out Chan (what’s new?)

A/N: Reader is an established member of Skz, second oldest, unofficial mother to the boys etc. This is my first Stray Kids imagine so any feedback is welcome!

────୨ৎ────

It took every bit of willpower not to bury yourself further into bed when your alarm went off. Your body ached and you wanted nothing more than to switch your phone off and pretend you slept through it.

Except you couldn’t do that.

You rolled out of bed and shoved your feet into your slippers, pulling on a hoodie as you stumbled into the hallway. Your hand snaked into the other rooms on the way past, knocking on the lights in an effort to wake the boys up before you had to start shouting for them. A noise of protest from one of them made you smile.

The coffee machine buzzed to life as you started pulling out bowls for breakfast. You turned when you heard a chair being pulled out at the table.

“Morning Lixie.” You squeezed his shoulder, walking behind him. You got a mumble in response but that was ok, at least he was up and out of bed.

“5 minute warning, anyone not up gets push-ups at the end of the day when we’re done.” You shouted down the hall, it was an empty threat but the fear of it should be enough.

You paused for a moment before hearing the scramble of feet flinging themselves out of bed. You mentally counted the boys going past you, stopping at 6. Who was missing?

You did another count round the table before heading back down to the rooms, you pushed the door open and made for the bed that still had a very sleepy quokka in it.

“Hannie.” You were quiet enough, not wanting to scare him awake but sighed when you realised that wasn’t going to do it. Your index finger and thumb found his cheeks that were just poking out the top of his duvet.

“Hannie.” Your voice was teasing as you squeezed his cheeks ever so slightly.

His eyes popped open, “What?”

“Time to get up, come on.” You moved away from his bed to give him space to get up, “Don’t make me come back in here.”

Back in the kitchen, the boys were all starting to wake up. A mug got handed to you and you weren’t even sure who it was from but that wasn’t the point. You headed back to your room to get dressed whilst drinking your coffee, only when you returned you were surprised to see only 7 at the table.

“Where’s Chan?”

A mixture of noises was your answer.

You sighed, "Did he sleep in the studio last night?"

"No." Changbin replied, his mouth full. You managed to interpret the rest of his reply that Chan was still in bed.

You knocked on the door softly before pushing it open, "Chan, you awake?"

The silence that met you didn't bode well, this wasn't like Chan. As you approached his bed unease washed over you, you could feel the heat radiating off him already. Even in the darkness of the room, he looked pale and unwell.

The back of your hand rested on his forehead just to confirm what you already knew, he had a fever. The heat and sweat gathering on his face had his hair clinging down, you brushed it back but the movement made his eye shoot open and his sat up instantly.

"I'm awake! Am I late? I can be ready, hang on-"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Chan stop!" Your hands found his shoulders and forced him to sit back down on the bed. "You're not going anywhere today. You're sick"

His eyes were wild, darting around the room clearly panicked about missing work. He stood back up, grabbing the first pair of trousers he could see.

"No I'm fine, I just need to get some medicine and then I can-"

"Christopher."

He froze, half in and half out of his trousers.

"You're not going anywhere, get back into bed now."

Chan stayed frozen for a second, clearly debating fighting you on this before deciding against it and collapsing back down.

His held his head in his hands. "I can't miss today, we've got dance practice and promos to shoot and-"

"Ok slow down. Your promos can be shot another day and I'll go through the choreography with you. We'll get it done."

"It's not just that." Chan had slumped over and was starting to fall asleep again. "Gotta look after you and the boys, need to make sure you're ok."

You helped him lie back down and pulled the covers up over him. "We'll be fine, I'll make sure they're ok."

────୨ৎ────

Something was wrong. You weren't sure what but you knew that something was. You hadn't been gone long, only to get changed into your outfit for the promo but that was clearly long enough for something to happen.

"What's wrong?"

Your question was met by silence and blank stares.

Well blank stares from all but one, you followed Minho's eyes to Seungmin. Who was doing his very best to look like he didn't care but you knew better.

"Ok everyone head in."

Your hand met his chest when he tried to go past you, "Not you."

You waited until you heard the door click shut, "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened." He wouldn't meet your eye and made a move to go past you but you followed and blocked his path.

"Seungmin." You dipped your head to catch his gaze.

"It doesn't matter."

"Tell me."

He shifted from one foot to the other, "It's nothing, one of the makeup artists said something about my braces but it doesn't even matter. It's nothing really."

You inhaled sharply, "What?"

"It doesn't matter-wait where are you going?"

You spun on your heel and stormed out of the dressing room. Your chest was burning and you didn't even fully know what was said. That didn't matter, all you needed to know what something was said that upset Seungmin.

That was all the confirmation you needed.

You rounded a corner, intent on making some kind of scene about how to treat people with respect and what not. The kind of scene that would have Chan rolling his eyes but secretly thankful he didn't have to be the one to say it again.

Except all your anger quickly dissipated when you heard a small voice coming from another room.

"It's just a bit tight, maybe we could loosen it slightly-"

"No." The voice that came back wasn't just firm, it was harsh and cold. "We pulled this so you could wear it and that's how it needs to look on you. It's fine, stop complaining."

You poked your head into the room to be met with the sight of a stylist fastening a choker shut around Jeongin's neck. You could tell it was too tight just from where you were stood, the chain was straining against his neck and he slotted a finger up between it to create some space.

"Take your hand out!"

The stylist moved to pull his hand away from the necklace and that was it for you.

"Better yet take it off." You marched into the room.

"Noona!"

The stylist spun around, clearly not expecting you to walk in and object to her choices.

"He can't, we- I pulled this specifically for him." She tried weakly.

Your hands fiddled with the clasp at the back of his neck to remove the chain. "Do I look like I care?"

The chain popped off and you let your fingers fall to red marks on his neck where it had already started to bite into his skin.

"Go on to the others Innie, I'll be there soon."

He nodded and left without another word.

You waited until you were sure he was out of earshot before addressing the stylist. "When my members tell you something isn't right, it is not your place to correct them and tell them to suck it up. This-" you held up the choker in front of her face. "Was a minor fix, I shouldn't have to interject because you think you know better than the person wearing whatever you picked out for them. Is that clear?"

The stylists head had dropped and she refused to meet your eyes but from the nodding of her head you took it that she did understand you.

You shook your head and marched out of the room, only remembering the original reason for your anger when Seungmin got a grip of your arm.

"Don't say anything, it's not a big deal."

"Seungmin-"

"Please Noona, don't make a big deal about it."

"Fine, I won't make a big deal about it."

────୨ৎ────

Sweat was running down your face, you'd lost count of the amount of times you'd ran the choreography full out and you weren't finished.

"Remind me why we let you choreograph again?" Felix gasped on the floor.

Hyunjin had taken it one step further and had starfished out, taking up as much of cold flooring that he could. "I think I'm dying."

You kicked him in response, "You're fine stop complaining."

"Tell me parents that I love them."

"You're so dramatic."

You picked up your phone to check the time, it was close enough to lunch and that was good enough for you. "Ok I give up, we can have lunch early before we go back to this. Someone start ordering, I'm going to ring Chan and see how he's doing."

You pushed yourself up and walked towards the door. "Order me anything, you know what I like. Use my card, it's in my bag."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Minho flipped your bag upside down, sending everything scattering to find your wallet before you changed your mind.

You shook your head as the door closed behind you, not the least bit surprised. You pulled up Chan's number and hit dial, the phone rang out so much that you were considering hanging up before Chan answered sounding breathless.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. Are you ok?"

"Bathroom. What's up?"

You wrinkled your nose, mentally thanking Chan for not answering his phone in the bathroom as too many members had already subjected you to that.

"Nothing, I was just ringing to check in. We're having lunch now so I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"I'm ok, I think I just needed to sleep it off."

"You need to sleep more, you stay up too late working."

Chan laughed down the phone, "You're one to talk, how many times have I found you in the practice room when I'm leaving at 5am?"

You bit back a grin, "We're not talking about me and my sleeping habits right now."

He hummed in response. "How's the day going? Any problems I should know about l?"

Now that made you hesitate.

"Y/N?" He pressed.

"No we're all good." He'd just stress more if he knew, in fact you wouldn't put past him to come down to the building despite being unwell. "Pretty uneventful."

"Ok well ring me if there's any problems."

You spotted two employees coming down the hall with a delivery of food. "I will, our lunch is here I'm gonna go."

"Ok enjoy, talk later."

"Bye Channie." You hung up the phone and pushed the door open for the people carrying the food in.

It wasn't until the food had been laid out though that you were confused. There looked to be only enough food for half of the group.

"I know I told you to use my card but I didn't think you'd worry about ordering loads on it. You should've ordered more, I though you'd be starving by now."

"We did order more." Minho's brow furrowed.

"What?"

"There was supposed to be another bags worth of food. It mustn't have been delivered."

"Ok start sorting that out, I'll go find out what happened. Maybe it's still at reception?"

However when you walked back out into the hallway, you absolutely did not expect to be greeted with the sight of the two staff members walking away clearly holding the missing bag of your lunch.

“Excuse me?”

They turned, eyes wide looking very much like deer caught in headlights.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for this and you’re not taking our food for no reason.”

Silence.

“Right.” You sighed and held your hand out.

“We just thought-”

“Thought what? That it was your place to decide how much food we were allowed? Are we on a diet that I haven’t been made away of?”

“No.”

“No? Well then clearly I should congratulate you on your recent promotion given that you feel you can make decisions on our meals without consulting us or our management.”

You held up your hand as one of them opened their mouth.

“I am not interested in whatever other excuses you want to give me. Just go.”

You watched them walk, if not run away from you. You glanced down at the bag of food in your hand, grip hard around the handle and inhaled sharply. Was this what Chan was talking about when he said he had to make sure everyone was ok? Dealing with snotty comments from stylists and makeup artists and employees who thought your looks and diets were their business? No wonder he was so burnt out all the time, dealing with this on top of producing, practices, filming and meetings.

No more.

You’d made up your mind about how to handle this before walking back into the boys.

You shoved the door open, no matter how hard you’d pushed down your anger today it wouldn’t disappear.

“Are you ok Noona?”

You stilled your voice before answering, “I’m about to go make a scene. Besides our food going missing, stylists and makeup artists making personal comments at you, does anybody have any other problems that they didn’t want to tell Chan about before I do this?”

────୨ৎ────

Chan sat next to you at the table in the meeting room, “Do you know what we’re doing here? This got put in last minute in my schedule.”

You shrugged in response.

JYP stood up at the head of the table, “Are we all here? Yes? Good. I know we’re all busy so let’s just get down to this. Following on from Y/N’s update yesterday, let me start this off by saying none of Stray Kids are currently on any diets or restricted on their food.”

Chan looked started, “Wait what?”

“We’ll also go over the staff changes and how Y/N will be more involved in who is allowed to work closely with the rest of the boys.”

“Staff changes?” Chan spun around to you. “I was gone one day, what did you do?”

You sipped on the coffee that was in front of you, “I looked after them.”

[daddyslittlecrow]

House Hunting with the LADS Boys 🏡💖

TYSM @beelsdessert for the request ❤️ first time making myself write in snippets cuz I needed a break from the heavy stuff 😮‍💨

First time writing about Rafayel & Xavier so sorry if it’s not up to par I’m just not as disgustingly obsessed with them x

Featuring: All of them ❤️

Pics from Pinterest!!

Rafayel

Non-negotiables: Near the sea (duh) and a room big enough for him to paint in, preferably with a window looking out at the crashing waves.

Rafayel hadn’t been impressed with the homes you viewed so far. There was always something that turned him off, voicing his concerns dramatically as soon as you were out of the realtor’s earshot.

“Did you see the size of that bath? Cutie don’t lie, even you’d find it uncomfortable sitting in it for more than 10 minutes.”

“Maybe it’s time you took shorter baths then?” You teased.

“Maybe you should start taking one.” He sulked.

He learned his lesson when you gave him the silent treatment for the rest of the journey back to your apartment.

You didn’t have much faith for this viewing as you stepped out of the car. The salty air of the sea filled your nose. The beach was just a 2 minute walk away.

During the tour, you tried your best not to fall in love with the house. Exposed wooden beams, weathered wood panelling the walls. So bright and airy with a rustic charm.

The sitting room had large glass doors that opened onto a stunning sandy beach. There was an even a loft, perfect for Rafayel to paint to his heart’s content.

You could sense he was anxious to see the master bathroom.

“The previous owners recently remodelled the bathroom. I think they went a bit over the top with the ocean theme…” The realtor looked at you both apologetically before ushering you inside.

Both your jaws dropped.

The walls were adorned with sea glass, strategically placed to replicate a school of various fish. It was gorgeous.

In place of sea glass on the far opposite wall was a floor to ceiling window, opening out to the glimmering sea. Almost kissing the bottom of the window was a faucet.

You both walked up together and almost squealed (more so him) as you saw the three steps leading down into the bath. It was huge, almost big enough to swim in.

You both spent the entire night in it the day you moved in.

Xavier

Non-negotiables: Doesn’t really care, as long as there’s a bed or sofa in the house for him to sleep, he’s happy.

Xavier never thought about having a “dream home” before. He’d literally live a shoe box so long as you were with him.

You have a really good feeling about this one as he turns the wheel and drives through the gates. You didn’t mind taking charge of organising the viewings - actually enjoying scrolling through listings, imagining your lives in every image you swiped through.

He’ll nod his head, lost in his own world as you both followed the realtor into the 4th house you were looking at. You were listening intensively, making sure the facts you’d written down matched what the realtor was saying.

Your eyes scanned each room, looking for signs of hidden problems. Bubbling wallpaper, discoloured ceilings. The last house had been perfect until you spotted a cockroach running from under the fridge, eager to welcome you into his home.

Everything about it was perfect. The rooms were big but it still felt cozy. 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms. Perfect amount of space. You’d probably use the 2nd bedroom as a shared office. The kitchen was your favourite though, already visualising the two of you covered in flour while you tried (and failed) to teach Xavier your best pie recipe.

The second you both walked into the final room of the house, the conservatory, Xavier knew this was your home.

He gasped as he looked up, huge windows exposing the sky. You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. As soon as you saw the image on the listing, you knew he’d love it.

“This would be amazing at night. Gazing at the stars. The moon.” He imagined you both, sprawled out on the couch, pointing out the constellations as you snuggled into him. Every night could end like that.

He immediately started the conversation to buy, wanting to move in a quickly as possible.

Caleb

Non-negotiables: If you won’t let him rebuild your grandma’s house then he at least wants a garden big enough for your future kids to play in. And maybe a dog (but he’ll bring that up when you’re settled in).

You’re not as interested in this as him. Of course you were excited about finally sharing a home and there had been a really cool looking sitting room in….house #2 maybe? Or was it #6? You couldn’t keep track.

You just knew you were sick of both your apartments.

Gravel crunched as Caleb drove you down a winding driveway. The house came into view and you bit back your signature line. It was too big.

“Aw c’mon pipsqueak. Every house is gonna seem too big when you’ve been cramped up in that box you call an apartment.” You couldn’t say no when he pouted, a look that always made you resign. Dumb pheromones.

So you just let him take you by the hand as he practically raced into each home, hoping this would be the perfect one. But when the realtors finally showed you the garden, Caleb just couldn’t see the vision he held in his heart.

It made your heart clench to watch him shake his head in quiet disappointment. You knew he was trying to imagine your kids running around and messing about. Just like you both did all those years ago.

“Caleb honey, we’re not even at the baby stage yet. We’ve loads of time to decide. How about I look for something smaller? Don’t look at me like that! It would be temporary!”

You were surprised at how much you liked the house you were currently viewing. 3 beds, 3 baths AND a hidden toilet under the stairs. There was even an authentic fireplace nestled in the wall of the living room.

Caleb secretly watched as your smile grew, his heart filled with adoration for you. He was happy he had finally found somewhere you liked.

But just like every other time, he waited for the garden. You looked at him, studying his reaction as you stepped outside. He tried his best to hide the disappointment but you knew.

The sun was starting to set, casting a rosy glow onto the manicured lawn.

It was definitely big enough. At least a full acre, dotted with various trees. Towering oaks. A couple of birches. You spotted the familiar red spheres. Apple trees too.

One of the larger trees had a swing tied to a thick overhanging branch. It looked exactly like the one Caleb made for you when you were small. Before you knew it you were sprinting, halfway to the tree before you heard his footsteps behind you.

When you reached the swing you pushed on it, testing its strength. Once you were satisfied it wouldn’t snap and kill you, you hopped on. You looked at him expectantly.

Caleb let out a chuckle as he moved to stand behind you. “Hold on then.” He murmured before he pushed against the seat of the swing.

You couldn’t help but giggle in delight as you flew higher and higher, closing your eyes at the sensation of weightlessness. The sound instantly took him back. Back when it was just you and him and Grandma.

When his only worry was forgotten homework or you finding out he’d accidentally broken your doll when he stepped on it. It really fucking hurt and it was your fault for leaving it so carelessly in the hall. So when he saw your eyes swell with tears at the plastic casualty, he built you a swing to make it up to you. He would never stop finding ways to make you happy.

He grabbed the ropes of the swing until you stopped swaying. Eyes filled with endless warm and excitement as he gazed down at you. “I think we found our forever home Pips.” He kissed you tenderly.

You pushed him away and bolted back to the house, already breathless from a fit of laughter. “Last one back has to clean all those toilets for a year!”

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. Then he chased after you.

Zayne

Non-negotiables: Privacy. That’s all he needs.

You two had discussed the idea of buying a home together a few weeks ago. When you it crossed your mind, you made a mental note to sit down with him and start looking. So did he. The recent outbreak of Wanderer attacks made you both exhausted by the time you clocked out. Tomorrow came and went, catching only glimpses of each other.

When work finally started to quieten down, the two of you were so decided to take a day trip outside of the city. Away from all distractions. You brought a picnic to the secret lake you discovered on a hike last summer. It was the reprieve you both needed.

By the time you were driving home, your eyelids felt heavy. Zayne’s hand was clasped in yours as he drove. You were staring out the passenger window, hypnotised by the passing countryside. You gasped when you saw the house. Then the for sale sign.

“Turn around!” You almost shouted, now fully alert. Zayne reacted immediately, slamming the breaks as he steered off the road. Thank god this road was so quiet. He cursed under his breath. His knuckles where white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

“You’ll be the death of me, Y/N.”

“I know. Sorry. I’ll buy you some ice cream when we get back to yours. But I saw something.”

“Make it that chocolate hazelnut one and I’ll consider your debt paid.” He turned the car around and drove slowly, stopping when you pointed to the sign you saw earlier.

You called the number on the sign. The seller answered. Just your luck, they were just about to leave after a viewing no-showed.

The entrance to the house was located down a short road. You almost tripped getting out of the car.

A path fenced on either side with wild flowers guided you to the most gorgeous cottage you’d ever seen. Ivy crawled up the stone, making it appear even more enchanting.

Zayne watched as the seller emerged from the house to greet you. He admired the pale pink blossoms that shrouded over the small porch as you were both beckoned inside. Bougainvillea perhaps? He liked it.

Inside the cottage was just as charming. The sweet scent of cinnamon wafted into his nose. He followed you into the kitchen, where the seller offered a plate of homemade cookies.

“I made them for the viewing. Thought I’d have to eat them all myself.” She laughed, the wrinkles around her kind eyes deepening. You both took one as she showed you around the home. It was her mother’s before she passed.

It was clearly well loved. Despite being occupied for almost 50 years, it was immaculate. 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms. The perfect size for the two of you.

You always wanted a home with character and this cottage was full of it. Exposed wooden beams on the ceiling. Wood burning stove in the kitchen. It even had leadlight windows. It was perfect.

Zayne was more interested in the noise he could hear. Pure silence actually. It was a relief not to be surrounded by the bustling city. When he’d get home from the noise of the hospital, it was like he never left. It was claustrophobic at times. He felt at peace in this home.

The garden bloomed from the touch of its previous owner. She was obviously into gardening. A quaint glasshouse stood next to the cottage. His heart quickened at idea of tending to things until they were ready to bring inside. To you.

When the tour was over, the seller continued packing up, allowing you both space to discuss your thoughts. You bit your lip as you looked at him.

“What do you think? Or if it’s too far from the hospital we can-“

“I love it.”

“Really? Are you sure?” You stroked his arm lovingly, trying to fight a smile before you were positive he was onboard. That didn’t stop your mind flooding with thoughts of you both settled in. Coming home to each other.

Zayne planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. It was the easiest decision he’d made in his life.

“If you can get her to throw in that cookie recipe, I’ll buy it for us today.”

Sylus

Non-negotiables: Whatever you want. He’s had enough of all his extravagant houses. They were too empty. He never truly felt at home unless he was with you.

That being said of course he had some standards.

“Sweetie, it's nice but it's too…plain. You deserve something better.” You pouted at his words, snatching your phone back. At first, you tried to tell him that his current house was more than good enough for you.

But Mephisto had caught you later that evening, looking at inspo pics on Pinterest.

Lots of light, tall ceilings, airy. A patio with a fire pit to enjoy summer evenings with him or your guests. The complete opposite of his current grand cave. He didn't realise his recluse nature had inspired most of his design choices.

Sylus used this knowledge to guide him as he booked viewing after viewing. He wanted you to fall head over heels as soon as the house came into view. He knew you'd have envisioned your dream home and he if he had to build it himself, he'd plop a hard hat on his head.

It was fun for a while. You’d be impressed with certain aspects of the homes you viewed. All or nothing though - that was Sylus’ reasoning. You mistook it for him being picky. Used to getting what he wants.

You got to the point you were almost ready to strangle him everytime he cut off the realtor. “We’ve seen enough, thank you.”

“What was it this time?” You huffed after him, barely keeping up with his long stride. “Door frames too rectangular?”

He stopped so suddenly your face collided with the hard muscles of his back. He tried his best to stifle his laughter as you rubbed your nose. “A warning would be nice.” He ignored your quip.

“My contacts did another sweep of the house. The seller was looking for quotes from exterminators. Termites. Wouldn't want my kitten squashed when the house collapsed, hm?”

He hadn't looked at his phone once, how did he- Forget it, it's not like you'd win that battle anyway.

You let him pull you away from another perfectly good house. You and the twins had a secret bet to see how many viewings it would take for Sylus to finally say yes. You said 30, thinking it was a ridiculously high number. The Twins went higher.

It was looking like you'd be down $10 soon.

It had been a long couple of months and wondered if you'd ever find your forever home.

You sighed when you saw him waiting outside the Hunter’s Association for you. It had been a long day and all you wanted was to relax.

The glint in his ruby eyes told you you'd have to wait a while longer before you could cuddle up on the sofa for the night.

20 minutes later he pulled the driveway. You had dozed off, your body jerking as his breath tickled your ear, announcing your arrival.

Your body felt heavily as you forced yourself out of the warm embrace of the car. It was getting dark, the sun almost fully hidden by the horizon.

Sylus had a really good feeling about this one. All checks came out clean. Nice private location. All the features you liked and more. He frowned when you didn't say anything as you crossed the threshold.

You were afraid to admit to yourself how much you loved it, expecting after a few rooms, he’d be bringing you home. It really was beautiful though.

For the first time, you got lost in the thought of your future with him. Imagining the both of you sitting in the living room, watching your favourite movies. Or teasing him for accidentally dripping someone else’s blood on the carpet when he came home from “work”.

In the bathroom, you could see the both of you brushing your teeth, you elbowing him as he took up most of the mirror.

In the kitchen, it was slowdances to the rhythm of his favourite records.

Pushing aside the impure thoughts when you first walked into the master bedroom, you could see him sitting on the edge of the bed, helping you choose what to wear for one of his auctions. Zipping up your dress as you caught his eyes in the mirror, murmuring how beautiful you looked.

The hum of Sylus’ phone tore you from your daydreams. He quickly glanced at his screen, then at you. They softened with a silent apology. “I’ll be as quick as I can.“ You smiled at him reassuringly. You knew he’d never answer unless it was urgent.

You followed the realtor by yourself. He showed you more bedrooms, bathrooms, a study.

The realtor turned to you before opening the the door to the last room upstairs. “This room is a bit all over the place compared the rest of the house. We still have to get rid of some furniture the sellers left. You’re partner said you both liked to read? Just imagine it with built-in book shelves. It already has a window seat!”

You followed her inside. Despite the some cloth covered chairs and a few boxes, you smiled as you walked to the window. It over looked the garden and if you squinted, you could just make out the black peaks of the mountains.

Sylus soon found you, snaking his arms around your waist, kissing your temple. “I should've waited to bring you here. You look exhausted. I couldn't tell if you were looking at the house or attempting to sleep with your eyes clothes.” You must've daydreamed pretty hard.

You let him guide you out of the room, a little disappointed that he hadn't asked what you thought or expressed his feelings about it. You were about to ask him about it when you tripped on one of the sheet coverings. Strong hands caught you before your face hit the floor.

The joke forming on your tongue immediately vanished when you saw what was under the sheet. Sylus froze as he watched you.

A wooden crib, paint chipped with age. Nothing was really special about it. But your mind suddenly flooded with the part of your future you had never really thought about before.

Tiny feet. Tufts of silver hair. Midnight feedings. Bedtime stories. Bathtub splashes.

A mini you or him? Both?

Sylus remained silent, observing the emotions that played on your face. Didn't have to ask what was going on in your mind. He knew. It was the same visions he had had the day you told him you loved him.

“I really like this one, Sy.” A whispered confession. You looked back at him, eyes blazing with the intensity of him love for you.

“Then it's ours, kitten.”

———

Now that this is finished I have no idea why I wrote it in bullet points. I think I thought it would make me spend less time on it…

Oh well!

- Elle🫡

[imhappierthanever]

Billie’s old house

a|n: I couldn’t seem to find any alone time to finish this so I did so at work. Hope it’s all okay!

“Justin Bieber?” You said snickering, running your fingers over one of her posters. Billie brought you to her childhood home for the weekend for the first time. Everything seemed so cute and like home, which you expected. But what you didn’t expect was to see her obsession for Justin Bieber all over her wall.

“Shut up!” She said laughing, throwing one of her shirts at you as she unpacked. “What happened to his lips here? I think you’ve kissed them off.” You joked, throwing her own shirt back at her before pinning her body to her own bed.

“It came that way?” She said trying to defend herself. Knowing there was no way out of it. “Am I going to get a little jealous?” You asked lowly, eying her and her obsession before looking back at Billie. “I don’t know if I can let you fuck me with him staring us down.” You tried to get up before you felt her warm familiar body pressed on yours. Just that quickly she pulled you down into her.

“I think you’ll let me fuck you however I want princess. Don’t care who’s watching.” Billie whispered wrapping her fairy covered hand around your neck, kissing your lips hard.

You hummed letting your eyes slipped closed. “Is that a promise? “ you challenged, watching the smirk form on her face.

“When everyone goes to sleep tonight it’s just you, me and this Justin Bieber poster watching us.”

You scoffed shoving her before successfully climbing off of her this time.

Downstairs Maggie had already been preparing dinner, making something vegan and amazing. You could hear Patrick outside tending to the backyard and shark and peaches play fighting with each other. Finneas and Claudia were also around, somewhere downstairs. When you made your way down, you said hi to everyone and you all enjoyed a nice family dinner together. Billie and her brother teased each other the entire time, bringing up memories, making everyone laugh. When you finished, you all went your separate ways. Billie used the excuse that she had been tired and you were just going to crash for the night. But truly, she only cared about you and the promise she had made just a little bit ago.

Once you were drying the last dish, Billie snuck up behind you, smacking your ass before letting her hand stay there, caressing. Of course making sure no one could see.

“Go wait for me upstairs.” She whispered huskily into your ear, her free hand taking the plate from your own, placing it in the dish rack. You felt your legs ready to give out on you, shaking already from just the feeling of her words lingering in your ear, on your skin.

Pulling yourself together you made your way back upstairs, shutting the door behind you. You knew it was a matter of minutes before she would be joining you.

In order to pass the time, you made yourself at home, finding your way into her clothes, slipping on something a little more comfortable after slipping off every and anything you had underneath. One of her big baggy shirts would do you decided.

You looked in her vanity, pulling your hair into a high ponytail before plaiting each section, securing it with one her hair ties. Just as you were finished, you heard the door knob rattle, and Your gorgeous girlfriend appear.

Her crystal blue eyes darkened as she took you in, ready to make you hers yet again.

She slipped her arms around your waist as you placed your hands on her face, your thumbs stroking gently. Taking in as much of her as she was with you.

“Is this mine?” She asked biting her lip, tugging at the shirt a little. You nodded, running your thumb along her bottom lip before leaning in to kiss her softly. Almost a little too softly for what you were about to do.

“Do you like it? I wanted to look good for you.” You said just above a whisper before letting your lips begin their exploration of her neck, her skin so soft under your lips, and your fingertips. You heard her softly moan, her eyes slipping closed as she let you love her. That is, before she would take over.

Not being able to take anymore, she flipped your body so your back was in her care. Her hands caressed you with purpose, beginning at your thighs, discovering that you had nothing on underneath as she got to your hips, training her fingers up your body, reaching your boobs, giving them a squeeze, making you moan.

“Mmmm. Such a slut. Wearing nothing for me underneath.” Billie’s fingers teased your most sensitive parts, letting her finger run along your pussy. Effortlessly up and down, before letting her fingers dive in, collecting your moisture, bringing it up to your clit where she rubbed quick, tight circles. Your body fell back into her, as her other hand caressed your breast, only leaving it to cover your mouth.

“We have to be quiet pretty girl. You don’t want everyone to hear me fuck this pretty pussy of yours, do you?” She asked making you shudder, before you nodded your head.

“Such a naughty girl. Wanting everyone wanting to hear us. What happened to my sweet innocent angel?” Billie asked as she gently pushed your body forward, making you grip her vanity, bending you over so she could fuck you properly.

You said nothing as you braced your body for her. For the pleasure she was going to give you. Billie wrapped her hand around your plait, pulling you into her, demanding that you answer her back.

With this, you heard her pants hit the floor, her faux cock teasing you as you felt the fabric of the shirt that clung to your body being lifted.

“Answer me sweet girl. Or I’ll ruin you.” She said giving your ass a slap, causing your body to jolt. “She-she’s here. I’m right here.” You said finally talking.

“There she is. My sweet but dirty girl. You want me to fuck you right here in front of the mirror? “ “Yes daddy! Please” you begged “I would love that. Please right now!” You said arching your back, encouraging her to just get to it.

“Such a fucking slut.” Billie growled before teasing your cunt, gathering more of your moisture to run on her faux cock, before finally beginning to fuck you, holding your hips steady.

You felt her so deep inside of you, giving you everything you needed. It was so hard not to scream, not to moan her name. You closed your eyes so tightly, tears threatening to spill from them as Billie’s hand came down on your ass again, and again. leaving a red mark; the first of many.

A part of you wondered if she would be the one to get you both caught as she slapped your ass, groaning whenever she watched you take all of her again and again, disappearing inside you and reappearing coated in your arousal. Everything she made you feel as the strap hit her just right.

You felt her hand wrap around your neck, choking slightly before she returned her hand to your hair, pulling it once again, forcing your eyes open.

“Look at me. Want you to watch, princess.” And you did. You watched her completely destroy you as her vanity shook, and your arms and legs grew weak. You knew you would have marks all over you from this night. Knew you would have some explaining to do to her family at breakfast which you decided right then and there that she would be bringing it up to you.

Before you could think of much else, she was pulling out, leading you to her bed where she was quick to push you down onto the soft fabric, kissing your lips with everything she had in her before she found her way back inside of you. She covered your mouth, knowing you were about to moan from the contact, from the way she was making you feel.

The more she thrusted into you, the more noise her bed began to make. You both laughed, Billie trying fuck you as quietly as she could.

“Just keep going baby. It’s okay. Need you so bad.” You said biting your lip, letting your hand cup her ass as the other trailed down her back. “Want you to fuck me, baby. “

You urged her to continue, to forget about her family being so close by. All that mattered was you and her in the moment you were in. And so she did. She fucked your goddamn brains out, both of you moaning and whimpering and crying out. Bodies pressed together, lips grazing but never kissing. She made your body tremble with wave after wave of pleasure. “Right there. Please don’t stop” you begged, pulling her closer as she pushed you over the edge, thousands of stars twinkling behind your eye lids.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Wanna feel your body fall apart. Want you to cum all over me.” Billie bit down on your ear, finishing her sentence before letting her fingers trace the goosebumps forming on your body from how good she was making you feel. She knew you were close as your grip around her became tighter and tighter. Your mouth hung open as you tried to pull her closer. Like that could even happen. But you still tried.

“Let go for me, baby” Billie said still pushing inside of you, bringing you closer and closer. When you finally came undone, she helped you come back down to earth, riding out the feeling, making sure you got everything she had to give you.

When her body collapsed on yours, you pulled her closer, finding her lips, giving her kisses as a thank you.

“How was I? Was I good?” She asked laying on your chest, looking up at you. “So good baby. You always make me feel so amazing.” You kissed her forehead, snuggling into her more, still trying to catch your breath.

“Billie. Your bathroom isn’t attached to your room…we’re going to have to go out there to get cleaned up!” You said covering your face. “I’m sure everyone heard already my love. I think we’ll be okay.”

“My only hope is they Finneas and Claudia were even louder than we were!” You laughed hopeful, making Billie laugh too. Disagreeing of course. But you could be a little hopeful. At least until morning

“I’ll go for us. I’ll bring back stuff to help you get cleaned up yeah?” She said kissing you sweetly before attempting to pull out.

“Don’t.. pull out yet babe. Just want you close. Just a few more minutes?” You begged. How could she turn her favourite girl down. Billie laid back down,listening to the steady thrum of your heart, tracing little shapes underneath her shirt you were somehow still wearing.

“See…you didn’t even think about my posters watching you, did you?” Billie joked.

“Oh I knew I wouldn’t. Not with the way you fuck me. I only think about you, Billie.” You smiled giving her a little squeeze. “But I can’t wait to get back to our home so we don’t have to worry about getting caught or a squeaky bed.” You joked. “Okay that’s fair. I owe you.” She said laughing through her words. “Deal.” You said ready for another night like this. Ready for anything with Billie always.

[sugarmuseum]

DOUBLE KILL | L.MK, L,DH. | PART ONE

PAIRING: Mark Lee & Lee Donghyuck x female!reader

GENRE: smut, horror, thriller, college!au, frat!au, obviously inspired by the movie Scream.

SUMMARY: As the campus gets filled with a bunch of frat members dressed as Ghosface for a Halloween joke, you suddenly get dragged into your own scary movie when someone decides you’ll be the protagonist.

WARNINGS AND CONTENT: yandere vibes, explicit lenguage, explicit sex scenes, oral sex (f and m), fingering, spanking, creampies, cumshot, praise and degradation, soft but not really doms mark and hyuck, choking, dirty talk, anal play, big dicks, reader also gets anxious and scared, mentions and descriptions of blood, murder and death, mind games, annoying frat boys, y/n and her friends are lowkey little menaces.

WORD COUNT: +27.k

AUTOR'S NOTE: i lost my mind writing this so i hope you enjoy! also stream +82 pressin' that strong duo mark and hyuck really fit this fic

IT WAS LATE AT NIGHT ON A WEEKDAY AND YOU WERE CONTEMPLATING THROW OUR HISTORY BOOK OUTTA THE WINDOW.

A study questionnaire was taking too much time to answer in preparation for an upcoming exam and you tried to stay focused, fighting the sleepiness, ignoring the way your eyes felt heavy and your mind started fantasizing about your soft bed. You wanted to finish it up so you could go to sleep after a day full of classes, the tiredness about to shut down your body at any moment. 

Your phone next to you lit up with an incoming call and you answered it automatically, without stopping reading your book. "Hello?"

"Hi, Sidney," a raspy voice asked, making you roll your eyes for what would be the 500th time that day. Not again.

‘’Who is it? Jungwoo? Yangyang?" You asked, sighing and shaking your head. You turned your tired gaze away from the book, closing it and deciding that it was enough for that night, feeling your eyes dry. The bed was calling your name, the idea of sleeping for at least 10 uninterrupted hours being very tempting. "If you ask again what type of underwear I'm wearing with that damn modulator, I swear to God…’’ you threatened him. 

It all started in early October.

Since the boys in the NCT frat had decided to go as Ghostface as a group to their annual Halloween party, they had been playing with the voice modulator they bought together non-stop like a new toy, and you were one of their favorite targets. They definitely didn't know how to control their enthusiasm, with incessant calls at any time of the day, although their preferred time was obviously at night. 

You couldn't distinguish any voice, all being the same due to the voice changer that was rotating between the fraternity rooms. Renjun had even told you with exasperation how they had a board with names and shifts to know who got the modulator for the day, which was organized by Taeyong after too many complaints and headaches of whose turn it was. 

You had heard from Chenle that the mastermind behind this matching costume idea was Jaemin, who insisted that "all the girls love Ghostface!" and ‘’this would get us tons of pussy, trust me!’’ and that's how everybody agreed to it. Their calls ended up coming to your phone daily, some following the original script of the movie and others deviating from it to ask dirtier questions, like Yangyang and his close group of friends did.

It wasn't that funny to you but apparently some guys found your deadpanned answers hilarious, for an unknown reason to you. 

If it were just those stupid calls, it would be fine, but of course they went a step further and were terrorizing the campus with their pranks, using the full costume to run around campus and classes, fake knives and masks included. It was a bit creepy not knowing which one of them was under the white mask, there were so many members in that frat. 

Just last week, Hendery had jumped out at you from the shadows as you were about to enter your sorority building, which had made you scream in surprise and felt your soul ricocheting inside you, and he hadn't stopped laughing at your reaction while you tried to strangle him. At least Kun had scolded him a little afterward, to your satisfaction.  

And it wasn't like Jaemin's plan didn’t work out, because it did. Maybe too well. For days, you had been seeing masked black figures coming and going in the hallways of your sorority, entering and leaving some of the girl’s rooms. But you couldn't tell if it was because of the fame of the Ghostface mask and the effect it had on girls or because the ones underneath were the guys from Neo Chi Tau, one of the frats full of hot guys. Although you were getting used to seeing them everywhere, you couldn't deny that they gave you a creepy feeling every time you saw that eerie mask. 

You loved the saga, actually it was one of your favs, but it was a scary costume nonetheless and seeing so many around campus was… well, fucking creepy.

There hadn't been any murders so far, fortunately, but you were sure that would change if the guys kept messing with your patience. Halloween was your favorite holiday, and you loved everything that came with it, especially horror movies, which were your favorite genre. The campus was very enthusiastic about the celebrations and you usually enjoyed them, but in the last few days, you felt a bit nervous not knowing when another Ghostface would appear in your day to mess it up. Maybe the NCT guys were dead set on giving you a heart attack.

"None of those fools," the voice said as you yawned and got up from your desk to look for your pajamas in the closet. "Now listen carefully, Sid. What did you answer for question E and could you pass it to me, please?"

"Oh my God, Renjun, not you too," you complained incredulously, pulling the phone away from your ear to see that the call indeed had the ID of one of your friends and classmates. You scoffed and smiled, teasing your friend. "Wasn't yesterday when you thought it was a dumb idea and now you're using that modulator?"

"It is a dumb idea, but Yangyang signed me up on the board without me knowing," his voice, now normal, explained with a sigh. "I was just playing with this thing, I…it's kinda fun," he said, sounding a bit surprised by the realization.

You laughed at his tone, imagining his cute face crunching at the utter horror of knowing Yangyang was right in something. "So now you're going to join in terrorizing the campus with the others?"

‘’Nah, I'll just scare Yangyang with a call and then I'll go to sleep. You can pass me the answer, right? I'll pay you with a coffee tomorrow,’’ Renjun offered. 

‘’Yeah, no problem, I’ll send you a text,’’ you yawned again, hung up the call and approached your desk again to take a photo of your quiz answers. You send it to Renjun, who immediately responds with a heart and wishes you good night. You put down your phone and walked away to finally get on your pajamas to sleep, when it lit up with another incoming call. 

These guys didn’t sleep or what? This time you looked at the ID, a private number. Knowing that NCT's day of nonsense is clearly not over, you answered but put it on speaker this time. 

"Hello?" You responded for the third or fourth time today, starting to undress and choosing a large, worn-out t-shirt, pulling it over your head. As no one said anything on the other line, you frowned. "Junie? You were supposed to call Yangyang, not me," you reminded him with a giggle.

"This is not Renjun," a distorted voice said. You turned to look at your phone for a second, hesitating, and then continued taking off your clothes, now tossing your jeans into the laundry basket.

"Oh? So who is it then?" You asked as you rolled your eyes, feeling tired of playing this game so late. Turning off the speaker and your room lights as well, you went to your bed, laying down in the dark and stretching with a small sigh. So happy to be in the comfort of your sheets after a long day, you thought there was nothing better than that cozy feeling. 

"Someone else. You’re going to bed?" The caller asked, sounding interested, the low and seductive voice catching you a bit off guard. It's not the playful tone that others had used.

‘’Yeah, I was just about to,’’ you replied, turning on the small flat-screen TV in your room, looking for something on Netflix while holding the phone to your ear. ‘’Although I might put on a movie for some white noise, it helps me sleep.’’

"What movie?" The voice inquired you, tone deep and raspy.

‘’I don't know, maybe a horror movie,’’ you murmured, putting a random one and lowering the tv volume a little. You just needed a little bit of sound and the glow of the tv to fall asleep. "Halloween season has started, after all.’’ 

"A horror movie is gonna help you sleep? People chased and sliced does that to you?’’ The caller chuckled darkly, mocking you. ‘’What's your favorite scary movie?" He asked, the altered voice resonating against your ear.

You took a pause, thinking for a few seconds. To everyone who had asked before, you had given different answers and lies to keep up the joke and ruin the original script, but this time you decided to respond with the truth, laughing quietly at how ridiculous it would sound.

"Scream," you admitted, tossing the remote aside and curling up under the blankets, keeping your eyes on the movie. "You guys, don't you get tired of making the same calls during the day? You're all going to drain the battery of that damn thing before Halloween.’’

The voice ignored your last comment. ‘’What do you like about that movie?’’

"I find it original, I like how it mocks and pays homage to the clichés and rules of slashers," you replied, unable to prevent another yawn from escaping. "Drew Barrymore has the most iconic scene," your attention was diverted to your door, listening to noises coming downstairs. They were probably sisters returning to the building.

"Are you tired, pretty girl? I bet you were finishing your homework like the good girl you are, I am right?" The caller said, making you frown with a strange feeling forming inside you upon hearing the nickname. But you couldn't tell if it was fear or something else.

"How do you know that?" You asked, curious but a bit hesitant. 

"I saw you in the library today, looking so distracted and a bit... skittish," the voice commented with a small laugh that had you swallowing hard. "Is something making you nervous?"

‘’You know what? Yes, some group of idiots are bothering students everywhere," you deadpanned with your eyes closed, ready to sleep. "Including me. It's annoying."

‘’Well, in that case I hope the distractions don't make you forgetful. You locked the door, right? Did you set the alarm?’’ The caller asked, taunting you.

Wait, what? You opened your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed. The atmosphere had changed, and you felt a sense of discomfort and a bit of fear from his words, especially when the voice laughed hoarsely against your ear, as if he knew something you didn't. No one knows that today it's my turn to set the security system, you thought. 

‘’You should check that, baby. If the door’s not locked… maybe there’s someone’s already inside,’’ the voice said.

You remembered the noises you heard from downstairs. Did you set the alarm before, right? Wasn't the door closed? No sister could enter after curfew, you assured yourself, glancing a bit frantically at the time on your phone. Past midnight. 

Fuck. You were so tired after a day that had started so early, then the classes and the quiz you had been answering for hours— no. You locked the door and put the security code on. Stop, you’re getting paranoid, you chastised yourself, it's just the boys being annoying. 

"Are you scared?" The electronic, smooth voice asked in a mocking tone, as if it knew exactly that you were going a little crazy. It cooed at you. "Do you want me to come and help you calm down? Just open your door for me. Maybe I’m standing behind it..."

Without thinking twice, you hung up the call, leaving your phone on your nightstand as if it were burning. Fuck those calls. Enough with the games. You were about to lie down again when a tooomp sounded too close to your room, stopping your movements. It sounded like a heavy door closing.

You paused the movie to listen for something else, but after another tense, silent moment, you didn’t hear anything. So you were about to lay again, but this time you heard clearly footsteps on the stairs. You began to get up slowly from your bed, your footsteps dragging on the floor trying to be silent. As you came closer to your door, the footsteps were more evident. You turned the key in your room with care, feeling your heart thumping against your chest as you opened it slowly… when suddenly a face appeared in the opening.

You couldn't help the scream that escaped from you, startling Hanni and making her scream too. When you realized it was one of your friends standing in front of you, you sighed in relief while she laughed, looking at you strangely as you placed your hand over your racing heart, feeling like an idiot. 

‘’God, are you crazy? You're going to wake up the entire campus," she scolded you, a bit surprised by your reaction.

‘’You scared the hell out of me!’’ You signed loudly, taking a step back and turning on the lights of your room, the tension disappearing. You crossed your arms with a groan, ready for the day to end. ‘’What are you doing so late?" 

Hanni made a face and shrugged, and that's when you noticed your best friend was still carrying her backpack. ‘’I had a study session and I ran late,’’ she explained, ‘’good thing the door wasn't locked yet. I came to give you your book before I forget, by the way!’’

"What?" You asked, taking the book from her hands, although Hanni didn't notice that you paled a little, frozen in your place. ‘’The door wasn’t locked?’’

‘’I know, right? Lucky me,’’ she said as she started walking down the hallway to her room, without noticing the thoughtful expression on your face as you replayed the conversation from the call in your head. Before Hanni closed her door, she peeked out and winked at you. ‘’And don't worry, I already put the security code for you. Night, babe!’’

You stood at the threshold of your door for a moment with chills covering your body, your hands tightening on the book you were holding against your chest like a shield.

You didn't receive any more calls since the last one, fortunately, and the next few days passed in relative peace. Between studying with Renjun and Chenle in the library and having coffee with Hanni at the café where Sion worked—who occasionally gave employee discounts in the form of delicious cupcakes to your friend group— your mind was distracted from all this Ghostface situation. The last call left you a bit paranoid, now checking the locks twice and making sure everything is locked up tight before going to sleep. 

You told everything to Hanni, who obviously blamed the frat boys, assuring you it was another bad joke and that anyone could forget to put the code, especially someone stressed over exams like you. It was not a big deal. There was no way to know who the caller was since it was a private number anyways, and besides, you had other things to worry about than interrogating a whole frat about it. So you followed the voice of reason sometimes Hanni was to you and relaxed a little bit. It was just a dumb joke, you kept repeating to yourself.

When you thought your life would go on without much chaos until Halloween, Hanni reminded you of the invitation to the horror movie marathon that Friday, or as Johnny had officially named it: Super Spooky Spectacular Scary Movies Special. 

‘’You have no excuse and you’ll come with me,’’ Hanni said while hugging your arm firmly like a sloth, making sure you wouldn't run away in the middle of the cafe after saying that. She really knew you. ‘’You seriously need to get laid! You deserve a reward after your exams, you know? You have so much tension pinned up, that can’t be healthy.’’

‘’Can you keep it down?’’ You whispered, signaling with your head the figure of Sion coming to the table with two coffees and orange and black cupcakes, Halloween themed. You two smiled at the boy as he left, who didn’t notice how you kicked your friend's ankle under the table so she could keep her mouth shut. You looked at Hanni and frowned down at her when Sion left. ‘’Excuse me? What do you mean? Is this a intervention about my health habits?’’

‘’You were so stressed about exams and studying, I swear I thought I'd find you petrified or something on a library chair,’’ she scolded you after taking a piece of cupcake to her mouth and pointing her fork at you after, threateningly. ‘’No more! That ends tonight, you obsessed book mouse! Leave the body of my friend right now!’’

‘’Please stop screaming and exorcising me,’’ you begged her as you looked around, noticing some stares of other consumers coming your way curiously, attracted by your friend’s loud voice. ‘’Thank you, now everybody knows about my non-existent sex life,’’ you growled when you returned your attention to her. ‘’Keep it down!’’

‘’Wow, and how could that change, huh? Jesus, I wonder. Maybe if you actually went to a party and socialice? The NCT parties, you know those? The ones you always get an invite to?’’ Hanni reminded you, feeling a little exasperated. 

Parties weren’t really your thing, especially not NCT-crazy-wild-ones, and the times you actually went you spent your time with your friends in their rooms, having fun by yourselves, drinking, smoking, eating and talking non stop.

Some other times you actually danced and had fun with Renjun, Chenle and Hanni, like one night Yanyang was testing his live DJ set. But it was really out of the ordinary.  Most nights ended up with you passing out with Renjun and Chenle in the same bed like some puppy cuddle puddle after drinking too much, actually getting kicked out of the bed so they could cuddle without you. 

Some people were envious you had a free pass to those parties since your friends were members and pretty popular ones. And some were more curious about your close relationship with them. You were friends with the most calm frat boys you ever met, but something Chenle and Renjun didn't lack was attitude and personality, and when someone dared to come to them with some question or rumour they would just stare blankly with their bitch resting faces, patience thin as ice.

You didn’t know, but actually a few guys who were interested in you suspected the Chinese students were keeping you out of their reach and they called them out on that, and maybe it wasn’t a lie. Like when Chenle didn’t give your number to Yangyang right away, thinking you could do much better or Yuta, because he would devour you and your heart with a single bite. Renjun simply ignored the other frat members when asked about you, even if that got him sulky tantrums from Jeno and Jungwoo for days. Chenle and Renjun felt protective over you but more importantly, they were completely uninterested in playing matchmakers that could lead to messy situations.

You were considered a pretty unicorn to the frat guys, with two shining knights glued to your sides who judged everyone. But Chenle and Renjun didn’t know one important, big secret, that Hanni did. You had the biggest crush in the world on Mark Lee and Lee Donghyuck. An embarrassingly love-struck puppy type of crush. 

Like a stare-at-them-fantasizing-about-them-doing-so-many-nasty-things-to-you type of crush.

Not your proudest moment, but one time you spend a whole class daydreaming about Mark’s hands.

You were actually pretty timid, so you knew for a fact that if Chenle ever found out about that, his crazy ass would climb to the university’s biggest building for shit and giggles and scream to the wind your secret just to see you blushing and malfunctioning in the middle of campus. Of course Chenle loved you and your friendship, but he also loved chaos. Him finding out about your crush on Mark, one of his best friends and roommate, was a big no no. 

‘’Alright, you got a point,’’ you accepted as you drank your coffee, shrugging. ‘’But what do you expect me to do? Coming to them and just— what do I do?’’

‘’You just talk to them, they’re chill, and—’’ Hanni interrupted herself, thoughtful and grimacing a little while remembering your last encounter with them and rethinking her next words. She tilted his head, contemplating you. ‘’Okay, you just have to breath in and out and try not to stutter or just leave in a middle of a conversation like you did last time.’’

‘’I couldn’t help it! They make me so nervous,’’ you bit your lip in an anxious gesture, already knocking this conversation was going nowhere, since you acted like a weird loser when one of your crushes comed your way. It was ridiculously really, you were an adult! A grown woman! An independent grown woman who blushed like a Victorian bachelor in their presence. ‘’This is ridiculous, I’m not even a virgin or something—’’

‘’Maybe you should practice on someone else, just to get around things,’’ Hanni proposed but you shook your head immediately. ‘’But it’s a good plan, think about it! Any guy in the frat would be interested! Just until you build confidence.’’

‘’But I don’t wanna practice, I’m just interested in them. I don’t have a problem speaking to anyone but them. It’s like my brain gets shut down or something,’’ you deflated against the table, playing with your fork on the cupcake while you pouted, feeling defeated. ‘’It's silly anyway. You said it yourself, I’m a book mouse and they’re the most popular guys. I bet they think I’m weird or something.’’

‘’First, why are you talking like a nineties movie? Second, what the fuck? You’re the hottest book mouse around here,’’ Hanni gasped, offended and then looking at you in disbelief. ‘’You look like a Penthouse model… possessed by the spirit of a haunting librarian, but that’s not the point.’’

‘’Well that last part definitely made me feel sexy,’’ you deadpanned, voice dripping sarcasm. ‘’Penthouse model? Really? Weren’t you in Gender studies last semester?’’

‘’Babe, please tell me you don't have your nose so buried in your books you don’t notice the guys coming to the library just to look at you,’’ Hanni said, imploring with her eyes.

‘’What guys?’’ You asked as you frowned and ignored the way Hanni groaned, trying to remember someone watching you in the library but not recalling something like that or out of the ordinary. You usually study alone or with your friends, and no one ever has come down to your table to speak to you... well, maybe the librarian when it was closing time. ‘’It’s a public place, you know that? People go there to study, that includes frat guys, Hanni. They’re students even if they don’t look like it.’’

‘’Lord give me strength. You really think Yuta would go to the library? Or Jeno?’’ She asked, opening her eyes like it was an obvious thing and waited for your answer. When receive none, she stabbed her cupcake with the fork. ‘’I swear you’re so dense, baby girl,‘’ your friend sighed, sending a player in silence as she finished her coffee and gathered her thoughts like she was about to speak to a five year old. Her hands grabbed your softly and you looked at her in confusion. ‘’I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this as your dear friend. You’re really pretty and hot and everybody wants to fuck you. Start using your body on those fans you have.’’

‘’Alright,’’ you responded, squinting your eyes, done with the conversation as you laughed at her. ‘’Thank you, Hanni, but that’s enough,’’ you kissed your intertwined hands making her yelp when she noticed the stains of orange from the frosting you left in her skin. ‘’It’s not that I don’t wanna have sex, I do, but I just feel like… running to the hills when I see Mark or Donghyuck. And then turn around and run to them, but my legs don’t respond. It’s like I’m sinking into the ground.’’

‘’Listen, Shakespeare. Word on campus is they’re not sleeping around any more, you know?’’ She said, caughting you out of guard. You didn’t know much about gossip or rumors yourself, Hanni being that source of information, sometimes followed by Chenle. You swore those two would multiply their yapper tendencies when a juicy rumor would come their way. She smiled like the Chesire cat when she noticed your reaction, knowing she stroked a nerve. ‘’That’s right. You don’t think it’s interesting? Your two crushes apparently are leaving behind their fuckboys status. It’s a signal of the universe, if you ask me.’’

‘’I should listen to the universe and you, then?’’ You said, getting up and putting on your coat. ‘’So here’s the plan: I show up in a slutty outfit tonight and then I magically organize a threesome with Mark and Donghyuck while everyone watches the movies downstairs.’’

‘’Oh my God, fuck yes! Really?!’’ She squealed and clapped in excitement, eyes shining and mouth open with another squeak ready to leave out. 

‘’Are you insane? Of course not,’’ you laughed watching your friend about to throw a tantrum or stabbing you with a fork, you don’t know which option she’ll choose. ‘’I could explode like a supernova of nerves doing something like that. Now let’s go, it’s getting late.’’ 

Your friend didn’t say anything as she put on her coat too while pouting, porting a thoughtful face. As both started walking out of the cafe, in classical Hanni nature, she didn't keep her mouth shut much longer. She elbowed you playfully, her fox-like eyes glowing in what could described as an profound enjoyment of messing with your shyness. 

‘’So, a threesome? I knew you were into some freaky shit,’’ she mumbled with a pleased smile, ‘’it’s always the quiet ones.’’

You snorted and rolled your eyes not saying anything, grabbing her arm with yours to keep her going, ignoring her protests and more rumours about your crushes, like the one she heard about Donghyuck rejecting Yoo Jimin, one of the prettiest girls on campus at a party last week.

Well. You actually paid attention to that.

As the two were leaving, chatting and laughing, none of you noticed the black figure staring at you from across the street. 

On the other side of campus, two pairs of Ghostfaces were laying down in their beds, going through their phones absently while listening to music. Downstairs other frat members were getting the big living room ready for tonight’s movie night, as the work had been distributed between everybody and Chenle and Mark already finished theirs, installing the projector and sound system. Another Ghosface entered the room, this one in the form of Johnny, with his mask up to his forehead.

‘’Chenle, you remember that you were voted designated driver for Doyoung, right? His flight is tonight,’’ the taller man said, leaning against the door. Chenle raised a thumbs up in understanding without stopping scrolling through his phone with his other hand, barely listening. ‘’Alright, thank you for your service. By the way, your pretty friend is coming tonight?’’

Chenle tore his gaze away from the phone, completely lost in the conversation, thinking about what pretty friend he had. ‘’Huh?’’ He asked, shrugging when he heard Johnny say your name. ‘’Ah, yes. She’s coming with me though.’’

‘’What? She’s coming tonight?’’ Mark asked, sitting down on his bed and looking at his friend feeling betrayed. ‘’Dude, I asked you yesterday and you said you didn’t know.’’

‘’Because that was yesterday and I didn’t know,’’ Chenle explained himself in a calm voice, brows raised in a mock expression. He shaked his phone towards Mark. ‘’I just find out, she text me just now.’’

‘’Do you have to be such a cockblock and take her? When she’s finally coming after weeks?’’ Johnny asked, like scolding a little kid who wouldn't share his toys. ‘’Man, just take Kun, Renjun or whatever with you if you don’t wanna drive alone.’’

‘’I heard the word cockblock,’’ another Ghostface said as he passed by the aisle. He lifted his mask, revealing a redhead Yuta with a devilish grin on his face. He leaned against Johnny, giving the roommates an up and down glance. ‘’Of course it's coming from Chenle’s room.’’

‘’Are you guys tag teaming Chenle?’’ Jaemin asked, his form coming between Johnny’s and Yuta’s, looking interested and curious, face in the middle of his hyungs. Just like them, wearing the same Ghostface costume. ‘’You guys don’t do that without me,’’ he said, smiling like a naughty creature, showing all his white teeth. 

‘’Kun-ge is on bar duty tonight, so why don't you come with me, then?’’ Chenle asked Johnny, crossing his arms knowing damn well he had the winning hand in this whole petty argument. He liked to be difficult sometimes. ‘’Why is everyone in my room?’’

‘’What's going in here?’’ Jeno questioned, appearing with his mask lifted like everybody else and joined the little group by the door. Mark sighed from his bed, watching how the hockey team captain was watching everybody trying to get a clue, a little confused. It just took Yuta saying your name to make Jeno’s face illuminate with realization and interest. ‘’She’s coming tonight?’’

‘’Chenle wants to take her in his car tonight,’’ Yuta further explained, arching a brow towards him. ‘’Little shit wanted all for himself and didn’t tell us.’’

‘’What? You like her?’’ Jaemin asked, surprised. Intrigue filled his face. ‘’I thought you were asexual or something? You never made a move on her.’’

‘’First of all, I’m not. And even if I was I’m not discussing that with a fucking comiteé in my room,’’ Chenle groaned, sitting in his bed and and making an exasperated sound. ‘’Jesus, I don't like her! She’s my friend and I don’t wanna drive alone, it’s boring.’’

‘’You’re driving with Doyoung-hyung,’’ Mark reminded him, browns frowning in confusion. 

‘’Exactly,’’ Chenle rolled his eyes. ‘’That’s my point.’’

‘’Well I’m gonna stay here and sit next to your pretty friend,’’ Johnny finally responded, crossing his arms too. ‘’I already kicked Jaehyun out, the room is mine for tonight.’’

‘’Gross, hyung!’’ Chenle said, making a face. To him you were like a little sister, and imagining you doing adult activities like flirting or worse made him kinda uncomfortable. It didn't help that the most notorious fuckboys were interested in you, having a little reunion on his door. ‘’Ew, get out! All of you!’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, just take someone and go, you have an hour,’’ Johnny pointed threateningly at Chenle, backing away and putting on the Ghostface mask again. Yuta, Jaemin and Jeno followed him, all of them porting similar smirks knowing damn well you would be fair game tonight and your dear friend couldn't do something to stop it.

‘’What’s up?’’ A new, muffled voice asked as a new incomer Ghostface took off his mask while entering the room. Mark said your name, catching all the attention of Donghyuck, who stopped in his tracks. ‘’What?’’

‘’She’s coming tonight and Chenle wants to take her with him to drop Doyoung-hyung to the airport,’’ Mark tiredly explained, looking at Donghyuck and noticing how the wheels in his head started to run immediately. He knew the way his friend filtered information and made plans quickly. Not a beat passed that Donghyuck sat on Mark’s gaming chair, putting on a veil of disinterest not only on his face, but in his voice.

‘’Take Renjun with you or something,’’ Hyuck proposed like it was an obvious option, hands searching in his pocket for his lighter.

‘’Renjun is studying in Ningning’s room tonight,’’ Mark said, remembering his friend saying something about it early in the day.

‘’I don’t want her to stay alone here and Hanni is leaving with Sion for sure,’’ Chenle sighed, attention coming back to his phone and ignoring everyone. 

‘’Who are you? His virgin protector or what? Just leave, she’s a big girl,’’ Donghyuck mockingly said with a scoff, making Mark chuckle low. The two friends shared a quick look with each other, communicating in silence and going unnoticed by Chenle. ‘’Listen, if you’re so worried, take Johnny with you, since he’s the biggest threat. I heard him coming downstairs, he has some filthy mouth,’’ he lied, putting on his Ghostface mask again and leaning back comfortably. ‘’Man, I wouldn't trust my precious sheep with that wolf.’’

Nobody pointed out that Johnny was probably the tamest of them all, but all Donghyuck needed was a slight doubt and someone to push under the bus. He knew Chenle wasn't dumb or easy to persuade, so he kept his tone indifferent, focusing on the blunt he took out of his pocket, leaving the final push in Mark’s hands.

‘’It’s kinda true, dude,’’ Mark conceded, massaging his neck thoughtfully and making a face. ‘’He said he wanted to take her to his room after all, like… you know everyone has other plans besides watching the movies,’’ he commented, knowing that just a small group actually watches the complete marathon. He shrugged. ‘’Haechan has a point, I think.’’

Donghyuck said nothing, smug under the mask and letting a thick cloud of smoke out of it. It was a team effort and it was easy to follow Mark, who led not only the basketball team but their friend group too. He was reliable, what you’d call a good guy. 

Mark was well known on campus. Either by his looks or his talent on the basketball court, but also because actually a good student known for his easy smile, his contagious laugh and his approachable aura. That didn’t mean he didn't have his intense side, being one of the fastest and most focused players, the type to play to win. It was also well known for his reputation of leaving girls limping and satisfied after an encounter with him. 

Chenle sighed again and left his phone looking at Mark, actually listening to him. ‘’I just— she’s kinda shy, you know? I don’t wanna leave here alone, feeling anxious and shit.’’

‘’Dude, I understand but it’s like a forty minute drive to the airport— nothing’s gonna happen to her. What if I stay here with her?’’ Mark asked, laughing a little at Chenle’s silence that followed.

Chenle looked at Mark and considered his words for a second, thinking that maybe he was overreacting a little. His roommate was one of the best, chill guys he knew and one of his closest friends. Maybe this was a good idea after all, he considered it with a hum. 

‘’She can chill here, and we’ll wait for you, she won’t be alone,’’ Mark confirmed, keeping his soft voice, trying to look assuring and sincere. And fuck, of course it worked. ‘’You don’t trust me?’’ 

I took some moments of more thinking, but Chenle finally agreed, nodding with his head. ‘’Yeah… yeah, you’re right. You’ll take care of her, right Mark?’’ Chenle asked and the Canadian boy smiled, nodding too.

‘’Of course I’ll do,’’ Mark responded, going back to his phone. ‘’Stop worrying so much, dude. She’s in good hands.’’

Donghyuck snorted under his mask.

After getting ready with Hanni, the two of you went to the frat by walking, not being that far away. It was spooky season but it felt too early to wear a costume, so Hanni had brought matching headbands with bedazzled little pumpkins on it that looked really cute.

As you two were walking, you kept feeling as if someone was watching you, but every time you turned around anxiously you didn't see anyone, just students coming and going, everyone in their own world. It was friday, so everyone on campus was leaving or getting ready for a party happening tonight or the movie marathon at NCT’s house. 

When you turned in a corner, you saw from the side of your eye a black figure, catching your attention immediately. Standing on a building's entrance a few meters away a Ghostface was staring at you, not moving, just… looking directly as you walked with your friend. He slowly raised his hand, showing you the knife he was holding with his fingers and moving it from side to side waving at you teasingly, saying hello. It was just someone from NCT, you tried to convince yourself as you looked ahead and chose to ignore him and the creeps it gave you, trying to catch what Hanni was saying. After a few steps you watched behind your shoulder again, but that Ghostface wasn't there anymore. 

Jisung and Sion had hung the Super Spooky Spectacular Scary Movies Special sign at the entrance of the NCT house under Taeyong's and Kun’s attentive (and worried) gaze that very afternoon while the other members worked inside the house. They had a huge screen to project the movies that were chosen by voting last month, and they also had set up a small bar in the kitchen for the pledges to serve the guests. 

Obviously supervised by Kun, who wasn't really convinced about leaving the bar in the hands of Yangyang (the resident Tasmanian devil) guiding the sweet and easily stressed Jisung.

The place was illuminated by red and violet lights to give it a more eerie look, in addition to the Halloween decorations they had put up at the beginning of the month. Music was blasting too, until it was time for the movies to start. 

You heard someone calling your name as you were arriving at the frat house, coming from someone wearing a pale, well known mask waving at you. You smiled when he lifted it to reveal Taeyong, the frat president, greeting you with a warm smile. His large, doe-like eyes didn’t match with the pretty realistic Michael Myers costume he was wearing.

"Why aren't you dressed as Ghostface?" You inquired with curiosity when you were in front of him, impressed by the outfit he was wearing. Even if the material was dark you could see some splashes of red, fake blood. It really made his blonde, recently bleached hair stand out.

"I lost it yesterday," he sighed, running his hand through his hair a bit embarrassed, "and I have no idea where it is and I had this one from last year's. I thought maybe Doyoung packed it accidentally in his suitcase, but he already left, so…’’

"His suitcase?" Hanni asked, giving him a confused look, but she didn't stay to hear the answer because Hendery appeared by the door with a crazy look in his eyes, grabbed her arm as soon as he saw her and dragged her away excitedly into the house.

"I have an impartial jury!" He announced to a group of Ghostfaces behind him. "Hanni, listen, you have to vote for me as the sexiest Ghostface—"

You and Taeyong decided to ignore that, falling into the conversation again. 

"Doyoung is going home this week, he hates Halloween and the stress of exams isn't helping either. I think he might kill Xiaojun if he sees him running around with the Ghostface mask on the hallway or Yangyang making a pumpkin sacrifice,’’ the president looked back, noticing a group of people coming with the echo of their voices, and lowered the mask to cover his face again, laughing at your puzzled expression. He started back walking towards them, waving at you with his fake knife. "It's a long story, never mind. Enjoy the movies!’’

With your friend taken away by Hendery and Taeyong receiving more guests, you sighed upon realizing you were alone, so you took out your phone as you entered the house and checked the group chat. Trying to ignore the multiple Ghostfaces around you, you took refuge in one dark corner as you typed fast. 

you: where are you guys??  king lele: doing something brb  junie: study night with ning king lele: study hard and use protection junie: ???  you: thanks for letting me know??? just now??? king lele: mark will stay with u dnt worry!! go to my room he has the key

Mark?! You read that text over and over. So not only did it send you a little bit on edge to be surrounded by people dressed as Ghostface, especially knowing about the creepy encounter you had on your way there, but now you were about to be alone with Mark. 

No fucking way.

You lifted your worried gaze from the phone with a loud sigh just in time to see a Ghostface slowly coming your way, knife in hand, removing the mask to reveal what it could be a determined Yuta, eyes shining maliciously. So, his normal look. You averted your eyes from his only to find another tall, dark figure making his way towards you from the other side. It was Jeno with his mask pulled up to his forehead, giving you that attractive, cute smile of his. 

You remembered the time at a party a few months ago when Jeno talked to you about his hockey statistics and Yuta cornered you to talk about bondage, so you turned around fast and fled to avoid being caught in those strange conversations again. You were really not in the mood to entertain frat boys, determined to hide in Chenle's room until he showed up, even if the door was closed.

But you weren't so lucky to avoid other situations, because as you walked through the entrance that led to the kitchen, you bumped into another Ghostface, making you jump. Luckily you didn't scream this time, silently appreciating your composure when he removed his mask to reveal Mark underneath, who smiled down at you. He looked so good, light-brown hair falling on his face, giving him a soft aspect and wishing you could play with the long strands. Still, you just stared at him like a deer caught in highlights, hoping that the other two Ghostfaces didn’t follow you.

‘’Just the girl I was looking for,’’ he said, eyeing you and noticing your headband and then chuckling, as the two tiny pumpkins shaked above your head. He gave one a tiny push, making it shake more. ‘’Cute.’’

‘’T-thanks’’, you said, moving a step back and giving him a small smile. Don’t run or make weird talk, you told yourself exhaling, don’t be weird. Act like a normal person. ‘’Um, you were looking for me?’’

‘’Yeah, Chenle’s not here and I am supposed to take you to our room,’’ he said, looking straight into your eyes, with such a gentle expression it melted your heart. Ugh, he’s so cute and nice. ‘’Don’t worry, it will be just us. I mean— is that okay with you?’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, sure,’’ you said, trying to sound cool while discreetly touching your cheek as you adjusted a strand of your hair, trying to feel if you were blushing. So far, so good. ‘’It’s okay, lead the way!’’ 

You were about to kick you internally, feeling a little cringy, but then someone else joined you and Mark. You recognized him as one of the Big’s of NCT, Jaehyun. Of course, he was wearing a Ghostface costume too. 

‘’Mark! You got a minute?’’ He asked, passing an arm to his shoulders, and then looking at you. He tilted his head as he squinted his eyes as if trying to remember where he knew you from, pointing at you as he struggled to recall your name. ‘’Hey, you’re that girl. The library girl.’’

‘’Oh?’’ You asked, raising your eyebrows, a bit confused. Even though you knew who Jaehyun was, you had never really spoken to him until then, not even shared a class or something. ‘’Who?’’

‘’Yeah, the girl that—,’’ he interrupted himself, feeling the heavy gaze of Mark’s on him, and realizing it was the best to shut the fuck up. He gave you one of his best smiles, full of dimples, and then turned his face towards Mark, giving him a pat on the chest. ‘’Can you come for a minute, man? There’s a problem with the sound connection and I think you’re the only one sober here.’’ 

‘’Yeah, sure,’’ he looked at you with a doubtful face and surprised you when suddenly he grabbed you by the shoulders, pushing you smoothly but firmly towards the wall so you weren’t that visible from other entries to the kitchen. ‘’Wait for me here, I’ll be quick. Okay?’’

‘’Okay,’’ you just responded, trying not to scream my crush just touched me! and nodded with your head, giving him a reassuring, small smile. It wasn't’ like you were about to run anywhere else. 

The moment Mark and Jaehyun disappeared in the hallway, you shoot from where you were standing straight to the bar. You knew it was impossible for them not to have a good damn bar anytime they do something, so you thanked them in silence and their alcoholic ways. You expected to see Kun or maybe even Johnny there, but instead you encountered Yangyang in the wild, making eye contact with the pink haired boy and hurriedly coming over. If you were about to be alone with Mark Lee for God’s know how many minutes, you needed some liquid courage. 

‘’Give me anything as a shot right now, quick!’’ You whispered-shouted, looking behind your shoulder to make sure Mark wasn’t coming back yet. 

‘’Okay, okay!’’ He said matching your desperation without asking questions, his hands rapidly grabbed the tequila and served two shots. He looked at you with his mouth open watching how the two shots disappeared almost instantly as you drank both. ‘’Uhm, thats was mi—’’

‘’Oh my God! Give me something sweet, not gasoline, please,’’ you made a face, feeling the burning taste of the tequila coming down your throat and coughing a little. 

This time Yangyang served two shots of something pink, and he hurried to grab his before you could drink that as well for the second time. 

‘’Jesus, what’s up to you? You never drank like this,’’ he said, looking at you suspiciously while you took another shot. He also noticed you were alone, nor Chenle or Renjun next to you. Weird. Even if Yangyang was a menace, he was a good guy, so he lowered his voice and searched for your eyes. ‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Why? I don’t look okay?’’ You asked nervously, serving yourself another shot before Yangyang took the bottle away, making him more suspicious of you as he observed how you drank the fifth shot. You decided to change the topic, distracting him. ‘’What are you doing here alone? Where’s Kun?’’

‘’He left me in charge, he went to smoke or something,’’ Yangyang said, uninterested as he was guarding the bottle as if you were about to steal it or drinked completely. And maybe he was right. ‘’Jisung went to buy some alcohol, we ran out of beer already.’’

‘’You? In charge?’’ You let out a small laugh, a little surprised, gaining yourself an unamused look from Yangyang. You wondered what the other frat guys were up to that night that the top choice was the pretty, chaotic boy in front of you. You looked behind your shoulder and saw Mark close to the kitchen door, speaking with Kun, who was coming back to the bar too. You grabbed the bottle Yangyang was holding and gave him a serious look. ‘’Give me another shot and we never had this conversation, okay?’’ 

‘’Yes ma’am,’’ he responded quickly, serving two more shots after following your gaze to the door. He smirked a little with a knowing look but said nothing, drinking the shot with you and just giving a smile to the other two neos as they were about to approach the bar. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ he assured you in a whisper, ‘’I don’t know nor I heard something. Actually, who are you?’’

‘’Are you drinking?’’ Kun asked the first thing to Yangyang with a sigh, making him move out of the way and taking the bottle he was holding. ‘’I swear, leaving you in charge it’s like leaving a sugar addict in a candy store.’’

‘’Hey! I was taking really well care of the bar!’’ Yangyang defended himself with an offended scoff, but you stopped listening to their banter when you felt Mark grabbing your hand in a soft movement, seeking your attention. 

‘’You ready?’’ He asked, coming so close that you could feel the warmth coming off his body. God, he smelled so good. The shots might have worked, because you were able to nod your head and smile at him, feeling much relaxed while you were screaming internally trying not to freak out because he was holding your hand. ‘’Let’s go then.’’

Mark guided you towards an internal aisle that lead to the stairs, and even if you knew the way since he was roommates with Chenle, you didn't let go of his hand, leaving behind Kun and Yangyang arguing as the other people in the NCT house were already waiting for the movie to start.

But as you were climbing the last steps towards the first floor, you heard the opening scene. The Exorcist? You saw behind you trying to steal a quick glance, but instead you encountered a Ghostface standing on the bottom of the stairs. It was looking up at your moving body, head tilted in a curious manner. You were about to tear your eyes away, but then he slowly lifted a gloved hand and moved two fingers to the black mouth of the mask, making a V form and wiggling them. You gasped lowly, taken aback by the dirty gesture, the reaction going unnoticed by Mark.

Mark took you to two sections of stairs, you watching his back the whole time while the sound of the movie was being more and more muffled as you two got away. He let you go in first after opening the door, and as you entered you noticed the music playing low and a mood lamp, giving a cozy, chill vibe you liked. This was more of your style. You let out a heavy sigh, grateful to be there. 

You went straight to Chenle’s bed to sit like you usually did and watched as Mark went to the small mini fridge, taking two bottles of water and offering you one. 

‘’You’re not drinking tonight?’’ You asked him curiously, playing with the cold bottle as you didn’t want to to ease the shots you took before. The few times you were at the frat you’d never seen Mark completely out-of-it drunk, but definitely not not drinking either. 

‘’Nah, I’m taking it slow tonight,’’ Mark answered and smiled down at you. He took a seat next to you, so close his tight brushed yours, sparkling goosebumps to your legs, which you crossed it trying to play it cool. You needed to do something, so you actually took a sip of water and missed the way Mark was staring at your legs, eyeing your black stockings. 

‘’You can leave, you know? You don’t have to wait with me, you’re missing the movie,’’ you blurted softly, feeling a little bad for him. Being a babysitter while the whole frat was having fun downstairs. 

‘’I don’t want to, I… I really want to keep you company,’’ he said with a small smirk, eyes gentle. ‘’I mean— if you want to.’’

‘’You do?’’ You questioned a little surprised, moving your body so you could face him better, the cold feeling of the water bottle in your hands being a good anchor. You weren’t able to stop your eyes from looking at this mouth, but quickly moved it to his eyes. Focus. Don’t stare at his cute smile.

‘’Yeah,’’ he laughed a little sheepishly, ‘’I actually wanted to talk with you a few times but you kinda… run away?’’ He tried to say it without grimacing, stare static on you to measure your reaction. You laughed a little, embarrassed, but ended up nodding your head. Why would you deny it? You shrugged and murmured a small sorry, feeling a little shy. ‘’It’s okay, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you know? That’s all.’’

‘’You don’t!’’ You quickly assured him. Apparently the alcohol was not only making you more relaxed, but it opened your big mouth as well. ‘’You don’t make me uncomfortable. I just… get a little bit nervous around you and— and I don’t know what to say so I just leave and—’’ you interrupted yourself, feeling a hand on your knee, comforting you. 

You looked down, seeing Mark’s pretty, big veiny hand caressing your knee and making circles with his thumb— making you malfunction as you study his long fingers. You felt warm filling your body and breathed deeply. He’s just being nice, calm down.

‘’Relax, baby, it’s okay,’’ Mark said, giving you another gentle smile. He signed while shaking his head, looking relieved and a little bit amused. ‘’I get it. I really thought you were avoiding me because I was annoying or something… or maybe because you like someone?’’ 

‘’I like someone?’’ You dumbly repeated, feeling your face warm and trying not to sound panicked. You licked your lips deep in thought, you couldn't say that you crushed on his best friend too, right? Don’t say he’s your crush! Don’t speak about your other crush in front of this crush either! 

‘’I haven’t seen you dating, even though I know there’s a couple of guys interested in you,’’ he mumbled, keeping his curious gaze on you as his hand very slowly went just a little up, moving towards your thigh. It felt really innocent, like he was still trying to comfort you, a pretty but scaredy cat. Relaxing you, winning your trust. ‘’Why’s that?’’ 

‘’Um… I don’t know,’’ you lied, not doing anything to stop his hand. Why was the room getting so hot? It was such a bad idea to wear a sweater that night. Your legs twitched a little under his touch, making Mark grin even more.

It felt like falling under a spell, you had him so close and he smelled really good, and was so kind, and you couldn't help but study his handsome face. It was just the two of you, and that made you feel a bit more confident and calm. It wasn't as stressful as other occasions, full of other people watching and judging. 

‘’Little liar,’’ he laughed huskily, coming even closer to you. He fixed his gaze on your face, squeezing your thigh a little, hand completely under your skirt now. ‘’I thought we passed the part when you ran away, baby. I wanna know what’s in that head of yours,’’ he whispered.

Your heart jumped everywhere inside you going crazy, racing and nervous. Sometimes you imagined the power Mark could have on you, he made you blush with just crossing glances on the hallway. But having him so close to you, touching you and teasing you— it was too much. But it felt so right, and your body was reacting to him so fast. Thighs rubbing against each other slowly, wet covering between your legs and making your pussy throb. Fuck it, you wanted him so bad. You tried to take your eyes off him, but Mark pinched your tight teasingly, making you gasp in surprise.  

‘’You won’t tell me, it’s that so?’’ He smirked, leaning his body towards you and putting his other hand on your chin, pinching it softly as he raised it so his lips could find yours. ‘’I’ll show you what’s in mine, then.’’

Nothing could prepare you to feel his lips on yours. Mark kissed you softly first and the shock lasted for a few seconds until you kissed him back, making him smile a little against your mouth before going at it again. His soft, almost tender kisses did an excellent job of relaxing you, loosening your body against his and even daring to rest one of your hands on his chest, clutching his shirt. The kisses didn’t feel awkward or clumsy, mouths moving against each other easily and that kinda surprised you for good, feeling a wave of desire building up on you. It felt so easy, wanted.

You felt more loose thanks to the way he was kissing you, giving you small touches with his tongue and taking the time to get to know your lips, but damn it, you wanted more. Your tongue brushed against his in a languid and sensual manner, wanting to make its way between his lips that he parted for you, letting out a low growl and sliding his hand to your neck, devouring your mouth with an eagerness that you felt as well. 

The kiss that started slowly got completely out of control, your shyness flying slowly but surely out the window and doing what you had really wanted for a long time; kissing Mark Lee with total freedom. The wet sound of your lips joining and your tongues playing filled the room, Mark's hand moving up and down your thigh in such a possessive way that it almost had you purring for him. 

You didn't stop him when he gently pushed you against the bed without separating his lips from yours, in the back of your mind you tried not to think that it was your friend's bed, but hell would freeze over before you stopped kissing Mark. His body covered yours and settled between your legs that you parted to make space for him, wrapping them around his thighs to pull him even closer to you. You felt his hard cock everytime he rubbed himself against you, sending a rush of desire to your body, moaning lowly in his mouth as you were getting more and more wet until it soaked your panties.

The heavy breaths of the two of you was all you could hear, completely immersed in Mark and his touch, his pretty whimpers engraving in your mind while he started dry humping you. Bodies moving in unison, slowly building a sensual and needy rhythm, softs gasps leaving your mouth every time he brushes his length against your pussy.

Unfortunately, both of you needed a bit of air, so when Mark pulled his mouth away after a hot making out session, you didn't stop him, taking a breath as well and feeling your body burning all over, including your lungs, both of you panting. He took his hot, wet kisses to your neck, kissing and giving small bites that did nothing to calm your racing heart but making you moan more. 

He moved one of his hands underneath your sweater, palm slowly finding your breast and squeezing it possessively when realized that you weren’t wearing anything under your clothes, soft skin against his long fingers that started playing with your hardening nipple. ‘’Fuck, baby. No bra? What other surprises you have, hm?’’

You were feeling so happy and excited, an empowering sensation filling your veins. It was more than just adrenaline and arousal, and you tested it rubbing your pussy against his hardening length again, winning some horny, lowly whimpers from Mark that made you even wetter for him. You let out a breathless laugh that was cutted by a harsh bite Mark left on your neck. 

‘’Baby, did you drink before?’’ He breathed heavily into your face, staring down at you. His hands caressing your thighs under your skirt, moving his touch up to your sides and squeezing his fingers there. He was exploring your body, touching and grabbing, making you more agitated and so fucking needy.

You ignored him and kissed him again, not stopping the rubbing against his hard cock in his pants. But he actually moved away, arching a brow and waiting for a response. Fuck, he was so handome like that, you thought with a soft whimper. ‘’I asked you something, baby.’’

‘’No,’’ you lied, grimacing afterwards with regret. No more running. ‘’I mean, actually yes, why?’’ 

‘’You taste like strawberry liquor,’’ he simply responded, smiling against your lips, brushing his with yours. You felt your cheeks warming up a little and licked your lips, feeling nothing but his taste. Mark’s eyes followed every movement and groaned when he felt you rubbing against him, slowly and sensual. ‘’Taste so good.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ you murmured without thinking, kissing him again without any shame and making Mark give in to the kiss, this time more soft yet deep, sensual. He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your swollen mouth from the hard kisses, giving you a small bite to your lip.

‘’Fuck. You’re so pretty,’’ Mark said, voice sounding a little hoarse, his strong hands taking your legs, untangling them from his body. He pushed them up to your sides, making you let out a sound of surprise for the sudden movement, your skirt completely lifting and leaving you exposed to him. His eyes held a mixture of desire and tease, gaze dark with hunger. ‘’I wonder if you taste like that in other parts too. You'll let me find out, right?’’

"W-what?" You stuttered, feeling a new wave of wetness covering your cunt when Mark looked at you with those big, pretty brown eyes usually full of calm and gentleness, but now seeming more intense and focused on you. "T-taste me?"

''You'll let me taste this pretty, shy pussy no one gets to touch?'' He muttered huskily, his gaze traveling to between your thighs, where a patch of wetness covered your panties and stockings too, making him moan just by that vision. He caressed your pussy and directed his thumb to your clothed clit, massaging it in slow circles and making you moan with need at the sensation. He gave you a little slap there, making you almost close your legs but he stopped you by pushing you more open with his hands. ''Say it, baby.''

‘’Mark, please!’’ You begged him, wanting his touch more than anything. You didn’t give a fuck about anything now, feeling a rush of heat hit your lower belly and driving you insane. You heard a sudden noise and stared at Mark with a new sense of thrill filling you when noticed he just ripped your poor stockings, leaving the fragile material broken against your skin.

‘’You gotta do better than that,’’ he mocked you, moving back a little and taking you to the edge of the bed and gettin on the floor sitting on his knees. His cheek rubbed your inner thigh, inhaling and leaving wet kisses there, even some bites that made you whimper with need. ‘’I’ve been waiting for this long enough, don't you wanna be good for me? Fucking say it, baby.’’

‘’Yes,’’ you said, breathless, feeling your head in the clouds with everything that was happening. You blushed a little more, trying to close your legs when Mark bit your sensitive skin harder, sucking it and brushing his tongue over, face dangerously close to your core. ‘’M-mark, taste me,’’ you begged him with a whisper, red cheeks, pushing your hips into his face, an invitation. 

‘’That’s my good girl,’’ Mark purred. He didn’t wait any longer, fingers slowly moving aside your panties, eyes fixed on your dripping pussy like he was memorizing it. Using the tip of his nose to bump your clit almost playfully, lips kissing your clothed cunt slowly, driving you crazy with his soft movements. 

Mark couldn't believe he had you just to himself, all pretty and wet, opened for him to do whatever he wanted. ‘’Fuck. This is all for me, baby?’’ He didn’t waste more time and went down on you, his tongue giving you a long, slow lick that made you moan as he separated your glisterings folds with it.  

He eated your pussy in the same way he kissed you before, slowly and savoring you, lips and tongue roaming in your folds slurping and licking your slick like a hungry man, taking his time in building a pace that had you whimpering and arching for him, filling you with pleasure every time his hot mouth would suck and lick you. He made out with your cunt, tongue swiping lazily and in circles against your clit, making a mess of his saliva and your juices combined, mouth open wide to catch any rests of it, the wet, dirty noise of it filling the room. 

You saw stars and held into his hair, making him chuckle against your wet folds when you started rubbing against his face moaning his name, not a single trace of the shy girl you usually was.

‘’Mark, fuck. Feels so good,’’ you moaned, grabbing his hair like you always wished to, fingers tangling in his locks. He flicked his tongue on your clit and sucked hard, his long fingers playing on your entrance, teasing you. ‘’Oh my God, don’t stop—’’

‘’Taste so fucking good,’’ he groaned, dipping into your pussy with more desperation, like he could’t get enough of you. His tongue traveled from your entrance to your clit, leaving saliva strings and slurping them, tasting your over and over. Your breath hitched and you squirmed as you felt his tongue swirling around your clit, moaning as the pleasure was increasing intensely. ‘’Fuck, so wet and pretty for me. Can you take more, baby?’’

You nodded rapidly, desperate for more pleasure. He pushed deep inside one finger into you as he didn’t stop moving his tongue on your pussy, pressing and moving it in circles in your clit. He worked both at the same time, his finger fucking you more fast and his tongue carresing your palpitating clit. 

You heard knocks on the door and completely ignored it just like Mark did, so deep in ecstasy you didn't care about anything but Mark and his touch, and the hot feeling of his mouth eating you in such an obscene, filthy way. Your eyes rode behind your head when he added two more fingers pushing them deeply, making you moan and feeling so close to cum, feeling so open—

‘’That’s it, take it,’’ he praised you, watching your face twist in pleasure. ‘’Sound so pretty— I can’t fucking wait to fuck this pussy,’’ he grunted, fucking you more fast with his digits. ‘’I’m gonna fill you up so good you’ll feel me for days.’’

His words leave you a little astonished and so fucking turned on— this was the same calm man you admired from afar? Talking so dirty, eating you up like a whole meal, you couldn't believe how things took a turn like that, but you love it.

‘’I’m gonna cum— Mark,’’ you whimpered, breathless, hips rising up but Mark’s firm and strong grip pushed you down to the bed. Your cunt clenched around his long fingers and you moaned, feeling your body explode with delight, thighs crushing Mark’s head as you came on his fingers with a gasp, roding your climax as his fingers didn’t stop moving even afterwards it ended. 

You were breathless and sensitive to his touch that was caressing your velvety walls with slow, profound thrusts of his fingers until you could’t take more. The knocking on the door didn’t stop, making Mark groan by the incessant interruption. Your eyes shut opened when a wave of awareness hit and realized where you were, registering the sound a moment later in your foggy, pleasured clouded mind. 

‘’Hello?! Mark? Is anyone here?’’ A voice you knew perfectly asked, followed by some more knocking. 

‘’Fuck, that’s Chenle!’’ You hurriedly whispered, sitting and pushing Mark. You didn’t knew what to do, just sitting there listening to the knocks. He didn’t seem as alarmed as you, taking his sweet time in licking his fingers clean while looking at you with a playful smirk on his face, your slick adorning some parts of it.

You stared at him in a daze, feeling a new rush of heat hitting you, not stopping him when he launched at you to kiss you again. You both kissed deeply and languidly, tasting yourself in his mouth. Tongues moving and playing together in a heated kiss that had you needy again in no time, moaning into the kiss. Mark cradled your face, forehead touching yours as he smiled down at you. 

‘’Just ignore him, baby,’’ he whispered against your lips, kissing them sweetly a few times, none of you couldn't let go of the other. He sighed and rolled his eyes when his phone rang loudly with one text after another, not going unnoticed by Chenle outside the room either. ‘’Keep kissing me, yeah? I’ll make you feel real good.’’

The knocking stopped.

‘’What are you guys doing?!’’ Chenle asked teasingly after a few seconds, making you sigh against Mark’s lips, defeated. You heard your friend gasp in somewhat horror, realization hitting him. ’’You better not be fucking in my bed!’’

Since the weekend you were locking yourself in your room, going to classes almost incognito. After the encounter you had with Mark you were… well, avoiding him. You felt so shy and nervous again, running away the times you saw him coming to you. You clearly enjoyed the whole thing and wanted more, but at the same time it felt so intense and good— you didn't know what to say or do, or how to approach the situation.

That wasn't Chenle’s case. He just looked at you with a knowing smile, until you blushed and he giggled fascinated with the situation. He had given your number to Mark, he announced proudly (and a little threateningly) one morning he went to deliver books to your room. He also threatened to bring Mark himself to your dorm if you kept hiding, two days being enough foolery. 

Turns out Chenle was delighted with the idea of first, having something above your head (with the intention of annoying you and not blackmailing you (kinda)) and second, having his best friend date his another best friend (‘’you two make so much sense!’’ he had said like he couldn't believe he hadn’t realised that sooner). 

Chenle felt like an idiot, not giving a second thought about the way you acted, how you blushed and stuttered in his friend’s presence. ‘’You like him!’’ he announced, pushing up his big, black sunglasses revealing two eyes shining like he discovered the truth of a conspiracy. He kinda did. 

You knew it was dumb and sooner or later you would have to confront Mark at some point but for the time being you were hiding in your safe space, the library. Well, Chenle would call it hiding, but you preferred calling it ‘’time for yourself to think what the hell is going on’’ and clear your mind. 

It was pretty late at night after dinner, but still some students were doing work, like you. You knew the opening hours like the back of your hand, so you had some time before the librarian kicked you out. You had quite a few books in front of you for an investigation for an assignment you were doing in advance, and didn’t know exactly when, but your eyes shut down for a moment. 

Your soul almost jumped out of you when your phone rang in an upcoming call and interrupted your unprop nap, hurriedly searched for it by rummaging through sheets and books scattered across the table, not wanting to bother other people with the loud sound.

‘’Hello?’’ You said groggily, blinking a few times and leaning back in the chair. That it was enough for today, you thought as you were massaging your neck.

‘’Did I wake you up?’’ A voice cooed at you lovingly and a little bit mocking. ’’Sorry, but I don't want you to stiffen your neck, sweetheart.’’

Suddenly you felt more awaken after listening to that fucking voice. ‘’What? Who's this?’’ You moved away your phone to see the ID, but it was a private number again.

‘’I don’t think the library is the best place for a nap, the chairs are uncomfortable, don’t you agree?’’

An eerie feeling that you were getting accustomed to filled your body, making you sit straight and look around in the library. You felt not only annoyed, but a little cautious too. The caller must be here, you thought. You scanned the few students left studying and reading, some were getting ready to leave, but no one had a phone in their ears and nobody was looking at you either. Thankfully no one was wearing the stupid Ghostface costume, too. Who the fuck is calling, then?

‘’How did you know? Are you here?’’ You asked, standing up. You looked up from your table to the first floor. It was a pretty big library so maybe the caller was elsewhere, but you didn’t see anything or anyone up there. You tried not to catch attention, walking like nothing to the stairs, wanting a better look from another point of view. If you had him talking, maybe you could hear his real voice wherever he was. 

‘’I always know where you are’’, the voice simply responded. ‘’Why do you wanna know that? You wanna see me?’’

You didn't answer as you climbed the stairs, getting to the first floor and finding it empty. You advanced a little more anyway, observing the deserted tables and the lamps turned off. It wasn't that scary up there being alone, knowing there were other people at the library even if it was late. It made you feel safe. 

‘’I wanna know who you are,’’ you said, pausing when you heard a noise coming from one of the aisles the bookshelves formed. You heard movements below too and when you looked down, some more students were leaving. ‘’I’m seeing you everywhere, it’s not fair I don’t get to see your face.’’

‘’You think you don’t know me?’’ The caller said, his electronic voice annoying you with his teasing tone at the same time it raised the hair on your neck. ‘’Who you think I am?’’

‘’Do I?’’ You said with clenched teeth, advancing towards the aisle you heard the noise before. The voice laughed lowly, waiting for your response. ‘’Xiaojun? Johnny?’’

‘’Maybe we could play a game,’’ the voice purred his offer. ‘’Do you like Hide and Seek?’’

‘’Why would I play that? I’m not five nor interested,’’ you quietly said after huffling, walking by the aisle that was becoming more and more dark. You didn’t hear more noises, thinking you were actually alone up there, nothing but old books and dust.

‘’If you wanna know who I am, you have to figure where I am first,’’ the caller said, making you stop. ‘’And I could be anywhere, it’s a big place. So many good places to hide...how’s your sense of direction?’’

‘’Ten? Jeno? Jungwoo?’’ You tried once more, losing your patience. ‘’Stop this game, I’m being dead serious!’’ 

‘’But we’re already playing and it’s so much fun, don’t you think? I’m hiding and waiting for you. The question is, you’re gonna find me? Or are you looking at the wrong direction?’’

‘’Yeah, right, there’s no one else here…’’ You stopped speaking, feeling your heart beating fast in the middle of the dark. You quickly turned around another bookshelf, more illuminated and feeling a little more brave. ‘’I bet you aren’t even here, you’re just bullshiting this whole thing from your room, isn't it? Hendery? Yuta?’’ 

‘’You don’t really believe me? Sweetheart, I’m right here in this library,’’ the voice laughed a little, amused by your distrust and uncertainty. ‘’Can you find me? If you do… you’ll get a prize. But if you don’t, it will be your turn to hide. And I never lose.’’

‘’Bullshit, if you were here I’ll hear you talking and I only hear silence. So? I think you’re cheating,’’ you answered, turning another corner and finding no one. The place actually was silent, so you felt more confident in your theory.

You were alone and someone was keeping up the fucked up joke probably from the other side of campus. You scanned some aisles as you passed by, seeing nothing but darkness and books. 

‘’I would never cheat on you, princess,’’ the voice said, sounding almost insulted. ‘’And I can be quiet as a mouse when I need to be. That’s the fun part, you never notice my eyes on you, getting all paranoid on me. It's cute,’’ he playfully said. 

‘’And you like that? Seeing me scared and making me paranoid?’’ You scoffed incredulously, feeling a rush of anger. ‘’Well, fuck you. I’m not afraid.’’

‘’You should be. I’m right behind you,’’ the caller whispered flirtily on the phone.

You spinned around so fast, heart pounding crazily in your chest, but no one was there. You sighed feeling a little shaken, thinking that this game maybe was getting outta control… and it really, really didn’t feel like a fucking frat prank anymore. Like the previous call, you felt like entering a dead end game. 

‘’Oh, sweetheart, don’t be scared! I was just teasing!’’ The voice said, cooing at you. ‘’You’re so cute. You seem a little disappointed, keep looking for me. Where am I? Maybe behind the encyclopedias? Or near the romance novels, watching you with all the love in my heart?’’

‘’You’re not here,’’ you said trying to convince yourself, hurriedly trying to leave the first floor and stopping when you thought you saw something fast passing by the bookshelves on the other side of the floor. ‘’You’re messing with my head and it’s not funny, stop that.’’

‘’If that’s so, why are you looking for me, then? You’re getting warmer, by the way… how long will it take you to find me, pretty girl? I’m getting anxious, you know,’’ the caller sighed as he was the bored one, making you lose his precious time. ‘’I’m closer than you think.’’

‘’You’re not here,’’ you repeated, done with the whole situation. You walked towards the stairs ready to come down, but before you did you jumped hearing the noise of a book falling behind you. You turned around and saw no one there once again. Your eyes pickled with some tears and you took a breath, slowly taking the stair railing to try to ground yourself not giving into panic and nerves. ‘’Stop trying to scare me!’’

‘’But I don’t wanna do that, sweetheart, I just wanna… give you a little thrill,’’ his mischievous tone resonated against your ear. ‘’I’ll give you another hint. I’m not on the horror novels or the history books shelves. C’mon, I thought you wanted to see me?’’

You ended the call and quickly came down the stairs, noticing the librarian stuff was still on her desk but no other students were there on the main floor, just you. You went to your table and pushed your stuff into your backpack, but then your phone rang again. 

You let it ring two missed calls before answering. ‘’What do you want?!’’ 

‘’Good girl, I knew you'd pick up again,’’ the voice mumbled seductively, teasing you. ‘’I'm getting impatient, you know? I’m waiting for you to turn around but you don’t notice me.’’

Once again you turned around seeing nothing but empty space, hearing him laugh in your ear with that electronic, teasing voice. He was watching you?

‘’I’m done with this game,’’ you said, moving towards the entrance. ‘’Stop fucking calling me.’’

‘’Then why do you keep answering? Maybe you like… my voice? My games? My attention? You walked past me so many times but you don’t seem to notice how I look at you,’’ the caller said, making you doubt as you grabbed the door handle. ‘’Maybe you’ll start to look around more.’’

‘’So this is what it is? Are you a weird secret admirer or something?’’ You angrily asked, pushing the door and leaving the library, taking a deep breath of the cold breeze. 

‘’And you haven’t guessed the best part yet,’’ the caller said, ‘’now did you? You see… I never play these games alone.’’ 

You didn't say anything as you walked watching everywhere around you, feeling really on edge, like he could come outta nowhere. 

‘’Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll have so much fun together.’’

You hung up the call feeling your heart racing and breathed in relief when you got far enough from the building… just to turn around one more time to see, not able to stop yourself from doing so.

You gasped when you saw a Ghostface standing by the building entrance, staring directly at you. He sent you a flying kiss, entering the building you just left.

So you ran out of places to hide. With Chenle keeping an eye on you with his new found interest in playing Cupid and the thought of another encounter with the stalker in the library, you didn’t have much options. More like down to zero.

Halloween was close and Neo Chi Tau was keeping their group joke, so you had to still see Ghostfaces around you everyday. But what started as annoyance in the beginning transformed into distrust… and morphed into fury. You were angry, feeling really dumb. Why were you letting the whole thing go so far? Why do you let whoever it was get into your head? Giving them power? Whoever was calling, you won’t let it have control again. 

Next time, you’ll confront who was underneath the costume once and for all. 

You felt pushed out of one of your favorite places, avoiding the library, not wanting to go there and staying late like you used to. But Renjun could bring so many books to you before getting annoyed and weirded out at your behavior (You’re not going to the library again? It’s like the third time!) and you didn't know if you wanted to tell him what’s going on like you did with Hanni before. Even though you didn’t tell her about the last call. 

Huang Renjun watched you closely as he stopped writing, feeling your stare on him instead of your books and he frowned suspiciously. You were studying his two toned hair like it holded the answer to all your questions, and maybe it did.

‘’Junie, remember the night you called me? With the voice modulator?’’ You started, trying to play it cool. 

He sighed, leaving his pen and turning all his attention to you. ‘’Yeah, what about it?’’

‘’I was wondering… Who was next in line? To use it, I mean.’’

‘’Mh, I don’t remember,’’ he said with a shrug. He went back to his notes, writing. He lifted his eyes back to you when you didn’t say anything more or went back to your book. ‘’Why?’’

‘’Nothing,’’ you were quick to respond, but you should know better as Renjun murmured your name, arching a brow. ‘’What?’’

‘’Spit it out.’’

‘’Just… someone called me the other night with that stupid thing and I wanna know who. Can you check it out later, maybe?’’

Renjun made a face, shaking his head no. ‘’Sorry, I can’t. They erased the board because Xiaojun and Hendery needed it for a Math project or something, I stopped listening when they talked about condoms, body counts and statistics as a final presentation.’’

‘’Damn,’’ you whispered, disappointed. You looked down at your book, feeling at the starting line once again. 

‘’Don’t worry, they won’t bother you much longer. I think Jaemin lost that thing when he got drunk at the Spooky Super Mambo Jambo, whatever it's called,’’ he rolled his eyes and smiled at you.

The weird prank was spiraling out of control and it was taking you down too. It was frustrating, that little game you didn't ask to be a part of. What was worse, it was becoming your little secret, in fear of looking like a paranoid killjoy if you talked about it.

Your mind was thinking hard about the last encounter. Why did you answer the calls? That question lingered in your head. You actually wanted to play the game? No, you felt paranoid too many times. But then why was it weird not to receive a call that day? What the hell were you waiting for? 

It was so dumb… what were you doing? Acting like a prisoner for a stupid frat joke? October was about to end soon anyway, and the whole Ghostface thing was about to finish too. 

After one of your classes you decided to take the long walk back to your dorm, enjoying the weather and the calmness your resolutions were giving you. Everytime you come across a Ghostface, mask on or not, you will hold their gaze almost threateningly, gaining a few confused and weird out looks because of the attitude, even Yangyang giving you his middle finger after he got an especially annoyed snarl from you.

You kept on walking, faltering to notice someone was following you not that far away. As you advanced around the campus, fewer students appeared, making everything look emptier as classes were finishing. You started noticing footsteps behind you and turned around, seeing a Ghostface coming right behind you. This time you didn’t feel scared or nervous, huffing and giving him an eye roll. Fucking weirdo. If that idiot was expecting a reaction from you he could go fuck himself.

But your heartbeat picked up a little bit when he kept walking behind you, even daring to come a little more close. You turned around again and gave him the dirtiest look you could manage, not feeling that secure as before but unwilling into turning into your scared self. You kept your composure and didn’t show anything in your face, choosing to ignore him. 

But when you turned around a corner and he followed you just like a shadow, you had enough.

‘’Hey, asshole! Stop following me!’’ You sneered, turning around and facing him. He stopped a few steps from you, tilting his head like a confused child listening to you. He shocked his head no. ‘’No? Are you dumb or something?’’ 

He shook his head no once again, infuriating you. So started to walk towards him but Ghostface didn’t move or stepped back.

‘’Take off your mask,’’ you demanded, irritated. He shook his head once again, and that was enough for you. You came toe to toe with him, trying to take off the white mask yourself, but then, his gloved hand shot quickly and grabbed your wrist firmly.

Well, fuck. 

‘’Let go,’’ you said, trying to shake his grip on you. Your pulse picked up, now feeling the ugly claws of fear scratching your body. ‘’I said let me go!’’ You repeated, giving him a hard push.

As both began to struggle against each other and you were about to scream, a noise stopped you. Something had hit the ground. You looked down and saw it. It was a knife, but it didn’t seem like a fake, plastic one you had seen other times at campus. It seemed heavy and had a shiny texture… sharpened and long. This one looked… goddamn real. 

The hairs on the back of your neck rose when a sensation of danger so intense hit you so fast that your stomach collapsed down to your feet, tensing you.

A heavy heartbeat passed, a tense silence feeling like hours.

‘’You know what? I really have to go, so…,’’ you muttered, twisting your wrist to get out of his grasp. He actually let you go, bending down to take the knife slowly, not taking his eyes off you. You backed away immediately, starting to walk quickly with the desire to leave him behind. You turned around to see if he was still there and there he was, walking towards you but this time with the knife firmly held in one of his hands. 

Fuck being brave and confrontational. 

You didn't waste another second in running away, not caring anymore if this was a joke or not. You didn’t know who was behind that mask and weren’t dumb enough to trust blindly that someone won’t hurt you, especially holding a knife. Something inside you was screaming to get away from there and you followed your intuition... which wasn't so wrong, because Ghostface started running to catch up with you.

Adrenaline rumbled inside your body, someone with a fucking real knife was chasing you fast. You kept running and thinking what the fuck to do, which direction take, needing time. You came through some buildings and went to their doors, finding them closed, classes most likely over for the day. You groaned and kept escaping and seeing behind you, that fucking black figure still following you, now walking more calming once it saw you. Some tears of desperation burned in your eyes but you didn’t give up, able to put some distance between him and you. 

You desperately reached another building and pushed hard its door, a squeak of victory leaving your lips when it opened. You entered quickly and turned around to see if he had followed you there, breath caught in your throat then you noticed him not far away but disoriented, like he didn’t know where you went. Seeing him obviously looking for you made you tremble. You backed away fast and ran through the aisle, trying every classroom door to see if it was opened, no luck. 

Until the last one.

You opened the door frantically and entered the classroom, locking it behind you with a sigh. You leaned your forehead against the door trying to catch your breath, heart quivering inside you ready to spiral you into panic mode again. So caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice that the classroom wasn't empty and that someone was inside, with you. 

‘’Just the girl I was dying to see,’’ Lee Donghyuck said, greeting you playfully.

You let out a small, surprised scream when you heard his low voice. You turned around and saw Donghyuck standing up, coming at you slowly. You couldn't contain yourself from observing him carefully, his figure seemed to fill the entire empty room effortlessly, like he was the guardian of it. There were some books and papers on the table, as well as some notes on the old mobile chalkboard behind him, like he was doing homework or research before you interrupted him.

Lee Donghyuck carried himself with a mix of intensity and elegance, a charming personality that could fool anyone with his jokes and humor. He loved being the center of attention, making people laugh and lure them, drawing reactions from them. But he wasn't a clown, reminding you more of a sly jester instead, the campus being his court.

You noticed from time to time that there was another part of him, something that he managed to hide until it was the moment to let it show. Something more dark and sharp, very cunning and calculating. He had a reputation as the best member in the debate team, twisting and morphing any theme it was thrown his way to win. And he did every time, to no one's surprise. Many had tried to throw him off and dared him in class, but Donghyuck's quick tongue was no joke.

That was a well known trait among campus girls too.

‘’Hey, are you okay?’’ He asked, coming close to you noticing your stiff stance. He brushed lightly his knuckles against your moist cheeks, spotting your starting to dry tears. Your breath caught once again, he was suddenly so close to you that even if a potential murderer was chasing after you, you couldn't stop yourself from blushing a little because of his closeness. ‘’What happened, sweetheart?’’ 

‘’S-someone was following me— it was Ghostface with a knife,’’ you sniffle a little, trying to compose yourself, still a little breathless. 

‘’Ghostface? With a knife?’’ He repeated, frowning. He grabbed your arms carefully, caressing them softly trying to comfort you, a little worried. ‘’Hey, it was probably a pra—’’

You shook your head with a scoff while searching in your bag for your phone, trying to ignore the sparks Hyuck’s touch provoked you. ‘’Don’t say it! It wasn't a damn prank, he was holding a knife! I’m calling campus security.’’

His hands stopped you, making you stare at him. ‘’Wait, calm down. It was probably one of the guys, I saw them earlier in the cafeteria.’’ 

You scoffed and shook your head, you weren’t convinced and Donghyuck noticed right away, his attentive eyes not leaving yours. ‘’I don’t care who it was, are you listening to me? He was armed!’’

Donghyuck pressed his lips into a thin line, starting a staring contest with you that incredibly you didn’t lose, challenging him and holding his gaze.

‘’Alright, I’ll go check.’’

‘’What?’’ You asked, letting him move you from blocking the door, unlocking it to your horror. You gasped and locked it again, pushing him softly away from it with a heavy frown on your face, taken aback. ‘’What are you doing?! You can’t go out there, he might be outside still!’’

‘’So? I’ll just talk to him,’’ Donghyuck said, looking at you carefully. A second passed until a teasing, pretty smile started forming on his lips. His brown eyes shined mischievously at you. ‘’Are you worried about me, sweetheart?’’

You looked at him in disbelief, speechless. ‘’I-I, yes! I just got chased with a knife and you wanna look for the guy? Haven’t watched any horror movies? Or have any sense of danger?’’

‘’Alright, calm down,’’ he chuckled, rolling his eyes when he noticed the way you were holding the door handle like your life depended on it, getting more tense. He also noticed your doubt, the way you were biting your lip nervously. ‘’How about… we stay here, then?’’ 

‘’Why we would do that?’’ You asked him, stuttering when you felt his hand covering yours and slowly made you let go of the door handle. You did, feeling more at ease when he didn’t try to unlock it again. Instead, his body started coming close to you, making you retreat towards the nearest wall. ‘’Um. W-what are you doing?’’

‘’Relax, pretty girl. We’ll stay here and I’ll make you feel better, how about that?’’ Hyuck simply said, smirking with you didn’t respond immediately.

You looked nervously to the side, not wanting to leave the door out of sight, but then Donghyuck cradled your face. He didn’t seem worried, focused on you as he studied you up close. You just blinked at him, mesmerized by his beauty and low, rich voice. 

You could see the pretty moles that adorned his soft, tanned skin. Obviously, you didn’t have any idea the effect you had on him, filling Donghyuck’s mind with various visions of you looking at him with your pretty and tearful eyes, but doing something else, like sucking his cock or moaning his name.

Of course you didn’t have any fucking idea of how many times Donghyuck follow you through campus just to have a glimpse of you, how many times he tried to catch your gaze in the hallway to let you know that he wanted you, heart broken everytime you run when he tried to talk to you. He found your shyness cute and endearing, but enough was enough and his patience had runned low.

You tried one more time, your voice filled with hesitation. ‘’I don’t think this is a good idea—’’

‘’Eyes on me, sweetheart,’’ he ordered with a whisper, his firm voice making your heart flutter. ‘’How do you end in these situations, huh?’’ He asked, tilting his head and looking at you with a small smile, teasing you. His hands reached to your body, grabbing your waist smoothly and making circles in your skin with his thumbs.

I’m wondering the same, you thought. His question made you frown, confusion filling your eyes. ‘’What do you mean?’’ 

‘’Locked up in a room with a man that wants nothing but to make you cum until you cry,’’ Donghyuck responded simply, raising a brow at you, waiting for your reaction to his crude words.

And a reaction he got. Your brain malfunctioned right there, surprise and embarrassment making your words die for a moment. You took a shaky breath, feeling like you were caught doing something wrong, cheeks warming under his gaze. You realized quickly the weight of his words, the way he was watching you with something daring in his eyes, like the two of you shared a secret.

‘’H-how do you kno—’’ you stuttered, intrigue blending in your tone.

‘’I know everything that goes on with my best friend,’’ he was quick to respond, smirking smugly at you, pleased. ‘’And my girl. I’m a little hurt, baby,’’ he signed tiredly, complaining, a little offended. ‘’I was the one who saw you first, you know? Still… he taste you first.’’

Your cheeks fired up under his intense gaze, a little mortified. Donghyuck laughed at your puzzled expression, hands surrounding your waist more firmly, his touch possessive when he cornered you against the wall. No words came out of your mouth, licking your lips under Hyuck’s hard glare, not knowing what to say. He smiled a little, coming even closer to you, making your heart go crazy and your head dizzy as the tension Donghyuck created escalated and heated more and more with every passing second.

‘’Poor Mark is heartbroken, you know? Give him so much and then… running again, sweetheart? Are you trying to make him go insane?’’

This was another crush confronting you, but this time it was different. You didn’t have some shots on you to give you valor or had a free way to run to the hills like you used to. You wanted them both so bad… confess to him, say Mark it’s in your head too, just like him. This was something that could come in the middle of their friendship? You were thinking it too much?

‘’I-I didn't mean to—’’

‘’I know. And I know you won’t run from me, right? You’re gonna be good and make it up for me, yeah?’’ Donghyuck muttered under his breath, lips brushing against yours. ‘’You owe me, pretty.’’

You nodded absently, too enchanted in Donghyuck perfume that was filling your senses, being the one who broke the distance and kissed him hard, making him groan contently in your mouth. The way Hyuck was kissing you was exactly like him, provoking and consuming, dominating. His hands roamed your body, hands coming down to your thighs and making you yelp when he lifted you up like nothing. The movement surprised you, not expecting that show of strength you didn’t know he had, quickly throwing your arms around his neck and shoulders holding onto him.

The kiss didn’t stop but it got needier and deeper, lips moving and devouring each other tongues, playing and caressing them with desire. Your legs surrounded Donghyuck’s hips, his hands grabbing you by the ass and holding you against the wall. He whimpered softly in your lips, so needy and sexy it made you shiver with excitement, grinding yourself against him as you kissed him hard. Your hands runned roughly through his hair, holding him and taking control with hot, demanding kisses. 

‘’These fucking skirts will be the death of me,’’ he groaned shakily, mouth coming down to your neck. He kissed your sensitive places there while his hands roamed your ass and thighs, breathing heavily against your neck, busy leaving a trace of hickeys on you. 

‘’You like them?’’ You dared to shyly ask him, gasping when he moved you suddenly, taking you to the nearest desk. 

He kissed you fiercely, making you whimper in his mouth when you felt his hard cock grinding against you, but it wasn't enough. He nodded and chuckled darkly, madhandling you and turning you around, pressing his hard length into your ass. A hot, consuming wave of heat traveled in your body, igniting every part of you with desire. Your thighs rubbed together, feeling your soaked cunt throbbing with need, seeking relief.

‘’I fucking love them. Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? You look so cute and act so coy, making me hard every damn time,’’ he groaned and slapped your ass, winning himself a loud gasp out of you. You moaned at the burning, sting sensation and pushed up your ass, silently asking for more. 

‘’Donghyuck,’’ you whined lowly, unable to find the right words, but deep inside you knew exactly what you wanted, moaning when he spanked you again, harder. Your cheeks burned but you pushed down the sudden rush of shame that threatened to take control over you and grabbed Hyuck’s hand, directing it between your legs, to your aching pussy. 

‘’What do you want, sweetheart? You have to tell me, I wanna hear you,’’ he taunted you, deep voice in your ear. He rested his chin on your shoulder, both hands moving to grab your tits, squeezing them with a husky moan without stopping rutting against your ass.

‘’I-I want you,’’ you whispered, pulling your head back with a soft gasp at his possessive and burning touch, your hand reaching back to grab the hard bulge in his pants. 

Donghyuck moaned in your neck, biting it as rubbed himself in your hand. Feeling like he was about to go insane at any minute, touching you like a mad man, the need to destroy you in the best way possible was the only thing in his mind. He found the strength to speak, tightening his hands on your breasts. ‘’What do you want from me, pretty girl? My fingers, my tongue? My cock?’’ 

You whined again but Donghyuck didn’t give you any, waiting for your response. You closed your eyes and squeezed his dick harder, needy and annoyed by his teasing. ‘’You c-cock, please.’’

‘’Now that’s my good girl,’’ he purred pleased, pushing you down to the cold desk until your cheek touched the surface, firmly pressed by Donghyuck’s hand in your nape. ‘’If you want it so bad, you gotta take it, baby. Go, don’t fucking make me wait.’’

He was nice enough to unbutton his pants and take them down, so you could easily grab him when you reached back, feeling its weight and warmth on your palm, stroking him firmly with long movements. It was big, your fingers barely touching each other around his shaft and your position didn’t help either, but any of you cared. Your face burned a little hot, feeling his size on your hand really made you question nervously if he’s gonna fit, never having someone like Donghyuck before.

You tried to stroke him faster, using your thumb to caress the head of his cock, making him moan louder, breathless. A small smirk formed in your lips, letting go of his cock and moving your hand to push to the side your panties, showing him your wet and shiny, pretty pussy aching for him.

‘’Hyuck, please—’’ you begged, seeing him above your shoulder, giving him your best pleading eyes. ‘’Please, give me your cock.’’

Donghyuck felt as the air was punched out of his lungs at the scene, falling into his knees and giving a silent player to the fucking higher gods that give him such a dirty, beautiful girl like you. He pushed his face between your thighs, giving you a long swipe with his tongue, licking your folds and sucking your clit until you saw points in your vision. He was ruthless, eating you up with grunts and spanks, his pretty lips attached to your sensitive clit, making lingering, firm circles with his tongue until you gasped and tembled.

‘’Fuck, so sweet,’’ he breathed against your pussy, giving you a hard slap in your ass that made you cry a shaky moan. He gives soft, fond kisses to your core and folds as his thumb brushes your sensitive clit softly. ‘’So wet and needy, I could eat you for hours,’’ he murmured as he stood up, licking his lips. ‘’Next time,’’ he added to himself, caressing your ass, inspecting proudly the red marks he left in your delicate skin.

Your breath catches when you felt him angling his cock in your entrance, but no pushing yet, teasing you, so turned on and eager to feel that burn, the stretch his cock promised. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, the anticipation killing you, a desperate whining leaving your lips.

‘’Fuck,’’ you moaned low, grabing at the desk as Donghyuck starts sliding his cock into you slowly, opening you out on his thickness. It felt like nothing before, so big and carrying that burn you needed so bad. ‘’Oh my God.’’

‘’That's it, take it all,’’ he praises you, feeling you clenching around him with a shared moan, pushing his length into you almost in awe, eyes fixed on your pussy stretching out around him, so tight it might explode. ‘’You’re doing so well, pretty girl. Relax for me, yeah?’’

‘’You’re so big,’’ you wheeze, trying to loosen your body. You moan and hide your face on the desk in an intent of breathing in and out, but Hyuck had other plans as he raised your head with a makeshift ponytail with your hair. Your back arched, the new angle making you feel his cock in places never reached before, now conquered by him. ‘’Mmh, Hyuck! You’re so deep—’’

Swearing you could feel the tip of his cock on your lower stomach, another hot wave of slick covered his length, your pussy throbbing and needing more. 

‘’Fuck yes I am,’’ Donghyuck chuckled darkly, giving you another slow but firm push, nailing himself completely inside you. He moaned huskily, biting into your shoulder. ‘’I’ll fuck this little pussy until you can’t walk.’’

Every thrust of his hips made you moan as he started fucking you so merciless, deep and fast, not giving you time to think or say anything, just feeling so full and being hit with waves after waves of pleasure, becoming rapidly an addict to it. His thick cock stretched you so good, opening you with every inch he pushed inside you until your mouth fell open with a silently cry, so taken aback by the feeling of being fucked like never before. 

You labored breaths mixed with the arousing sound of your bodies crashing into each other, the wet squelch so loud and erotic. 

‘’Feels so good,’’ you murmured, eyes rolling to the back of your head, pussy clenching around him at his brutal pace. One of his hands cupped your jaw roughly, turning your face so you could look at him, pupils blown wide. ‘’Don’t stop, harder—’’

‘’Look at you, such a fucking brat giving me orders,’’ he snarls, slaping your cheek. Your desperates moans made Donghyuck smile, caging you in his arms as he sped up his pace, his cock thrusting into you harshly. ‘’You’re gonna take what I gave you or I won’t let you cum,’’ he threatened.

‘’No, no, no—’’ you begged, babbling and too fucked up to speak. You whimpered when Donghyuck started hitting that spot inside you, knowing that if he wasn't holding you, you would be limp on the desk, too drunk on the pleasure. ‘’Hyuck, please let me cum!’’

Your body trembled with every thrust of his hips, whimpers falling into Donghyuck’s mouth as he kissed and licked your lips, large hands coming to play with your tits. He pushed up your sweater with one hand and grabbed them, smirking when he realised you weren’t using anything underneath, your soft, pretty tits fitting perfectly in his possessive hand. He played with your nipples, pinching them until they hardened. 

‘’You’re gonna be good for me, baby? You’re gonna cum on my cock and thank me for it?’’ Donghyuck asked you, his deep voice taunting you and making you even wetter for him. You nodded rapidly and clenched hard around him, making him whimper too, fucking you harder, powerful thrusts shaking your whole body.

The pleasure burned in your veins deliciously, amplified by the effect Donghyuck had on you, his smell, his rough hands, his cock ramming into you. Everything was so much but so good, the intense feeling driving you insane. Nothing existed in the world at that moment, your mind clouded and fuzzy, just his big cock using your hole and fucking so you hard until you could’t take more.

‘’I’m gonna c-cum,’’ you whispered, biting hard on your lip. Your hand grabbed the one Donghyuck had on your jaw, needing to hold onto him.

‘’Cum on my cock, pretty. C’mon, milk my cock like the good girl you are,’’ he said into your ear, coaxing you like a demon waiting for your sins. His hand serpent down your body, his long fingers moving in circles on your clit, making you whine. ‘’I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby, cum for me.’’

You cried, cuming so hard your vision went blank for a whole moment, but you didn’t forget his orders, muttering various ‘’thank you, thank you’’ as your orgasm hit you hard, your voice shaky and spent. Donghyuck fucked you through your climax, hearing him groan as he chased his own, feeling his warm cum filling you up not much after. Hearing him moan and whimper in pleasure provoked more heat pooling in your belly, Lee Donghyuck’s sounds were the most sensual thing you ever listened to.

‘’Fucking take it,’’ his hoarse, low voice mumbled in your ear. You felt his cock twitching inside you, his load stuffing your womb. ‘’It’s all for you, pretty girl.’’

You never did something like that before, and the action made you blush, finding being full of his cum so amazing and hot. You liked the feeling of his cum leaking from your entrance, such a nasty, intimate connection. 

His touch softened, now cupping your face more gentle as he kissed your cheek and jaw, heavy breaths filling the room. Donghyuck whispered your name, his hands roaming your tits and stomach like he was memorizing every part of you, of your skin.

‘’You did so well for me, sweetheart,’’ Donghyuck said, smiling darkly, holding you even closer. 

Donghyuck lived to his word and… yeah, it was hard for you to walk, especially with his cum leaking out of you. Even more hard was trying to avoid his stare after fucking him in the classroom, and a small part of you kinda preferred being chased with a knife by a potential murderder instead of the mortification of being walked home by your crush turn out one night stand.

Hell, the first option was less tense than having Hyuck’s eyes on you the whole way, silently studying you and your reactions, like when his hand grazed yours and your whole face turned pink, making him smirk amused by your attitude. 

He had insisted on taking you back to your dorm, being a gentleman at heart, and you were grateful for it because you didn’t think you were able to walk around campus knowing someone could jump out and chase after you again. Much less alone at night and far away from your dorms, so you obviously accept it. Luckily, Donghyuck kept his mouth shut but you knew he didn’t need to say a word, the malicious, teasing glint in his eyes being enough. He looked at you with so much desire you were hoping he would push you into somewhere and fuck you again, but you didn’t knew how ask for it.

As the day couldn't turn more twisted, destiny had more in store for you, because Zhong Chenle and Huang Renjun were sitting outside your dorm waiting for you. Looking bored, swiping on their phones and surrounded by some books you recognized from the list you had sent them the day before. They looked up when they heard footsteps, freezing when they noticed you weren’t alone, a very much smug Donghyuck glued to your side.

Holy shit, you thought.

‘’Holy shit,’’ Chenle said out loud, eyeing you both with his brows incredibly high. His face was priceless because he wasn't stupid, the aspect of the two of you was enough evidence about what you were doing and it took nothing to click inside his brain. 

It was impossible to, but Chenle was out of words, staring at the evident new marks on your neck and untidy clothes with a mix of interest and shock, a little bit of horror and confusion too. Renjun mirrored his expression with more horror, but also kinda entertained by the awkward scene, squinted eyes focused on Donghyuck at your side and connecting the dots silently. 

‘’Uhm, well, this is my room,’’ you turned to Donghyuck, tucking your hair behind your ear and wishing for the ground to part ways and swallow you whole. ‘’Thanks for walking me back, Donghyuck.’’

Both Chenle and Renjun pretended not to be there or listening, but you knew your friends and knew they were more likely analyzing everything, gaining material for your incoming interrogation.

‘’It was my pleasure, sweetheart,’’ he smiled, eyes shining mischievously with a terribly handsome smirk. ‘’I’ll see you at the Halloween party, alright?’’

‘’I don’t—’’ you started talking but his presence silenced you, face coming close to yours, lips softly tracing the curve of your ear. 

‘’Don’t even try to ditch on us, princess. Now I know where I can find you,’’ he murmured, giving you a quick kiss to your cheek and just like that he left, leaving you with the ghost of his perfume and full of questions. What the fuck just happend? 

‘’What the fuck just happened!?’’ Chenle questioned you, quickly standing up, eyes big in shock. ‘’Did you— Oh my God I don’t wanna know but did you—?

You nodded your head and opened your door, pushing your books and your friends inside hurriedly, hoping none of your sorority sisters and especially not Donghyuck listened to the chaos. You pushed your back to the door, exhausted. 

‘’Lee fucking Donghyuck?!’’ Renjun shouted inside your room, incredulity filling his voice. ‘’I didn’t see that coming.’’

‘’Well neither do I, weren’t you into Mark?’’ Chenle asked, snapping his fingers in front of Renjun’s face when he gasped in astonishment at the new information. ‘’Catch on quickly, gégé.’’ 

‘’Listen! I… I like Mark, okay? But… I’m also into Donghyuck,’’ you finally confessed, walking into your bed while rubbing your hands tiredly in your face. You groaned. ‘’I like them both.’’

‘’Damn, talk about being greedy,’’ Renjun whistled and laughed, sitting in your bed next to you. ‘’This is amazing and weird. I feel like my child just went on her first date.’’

Chenle snorted, jumping to sit in your desk, crossing his arms. ‘’More like first double fuck festivaI,’’ he said under his breath, shaking his head. ‘’I can’t believe none of you losers tells me anything, I have to find out in the most unholy ways!’’ 

‘’What? How you find out about Mark?’’ Renjun questioned, interested. He tilted his head thoughtfully, thinking about Donghyuck and the way he acted those past days. Calm, composed, no whiny tantrums. No wonder the fucker stopped asking him about your classes and attempts to steal you number, he went his own way to finally get you.

‘’These horny monsters tarnished my bed,’’ Chenle said with an accusing tone, making you groan in embarrassment and Renjun laughed hard, finding hilariously the awfulness Chenle had to endure.

Renjun hand caressed your shoulder in an intent of comforting you as he controlled his laugh, taking a big breath. He tried to catch your eyes, noticing your silence and he cooed at you, giving you a little shake.

‘’Yah, don’t get all gloomy and shy. You’re coming to the party, right?’’ Renjun asked, thanking in his mind it wasn’t his roommate doing those things with you in their room. One point in favor of Donghyuck, for once. 

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed softly, grabbing your favorite pillow to hug. ‘’They’re gonna be there and… it’s gonna be too much. I don’t even what to say if they talk to me.’’

Chenle made a face, humming meditatively. ‘’I don’t think talking it’s gonna be their priority.’’ 

Renjun directed a warning look in his way, mouthing ‘’be nice’’.

‘’I mean,’’ Chenle backtracked, ‘’why? You think they don’t know? Are you afraid they’ll get mad or something?’’

‘’I thought about that but then Hyuck said something… he knows about me and Mark,’’ you said, browns furrowed together. ‘’He didn’t seem angry about it.’’

He just fucked me into oblivion, you wanted to say.

Renjun looked at you interested, sitting more comfortably. ‘’You think maybe Mark told him?’’

‘’Most likely. Those two don’t hide anything from each other, trust me,’’ Chenle commented, expression turning thoughtful. ‘’They have a… intense friendship.’’

‘’What do you mean?’’ Renjun questioned, before you could ask the same thing.

‘’Oh, c’mon. They’re like brothers, competitive but loyal, and have another type of understanding. Mark and Donghyuck are different but so similar, I swear sometimes they speak with their minds or something, it’s fucking weird.’’

‘’That’s true,’’ Renjun admitted, nodding. He looked at you and smiled a little pained, palming your back. He knew his friends carried a certain force when they chose to join powers. And it seems like they had their sights on you. ‘’You’re so fucked,’’ he snorted.

‘’They usually do this with girls?’’ You asked, watching your friends shaking their heads immediately. You deflated, thinking about everything. ‘’I just… everything’s happening so fast and outta nowhere. A lot it’s happening,’’ you doubted, knowing that your friends didn’t know anything about the whole Ghostface thing going on.

‘’Hey, what’s the problem? You said you like them both, and it seems like both are interested in you, so…’’ Renjun said, studying your face. ‘’That’s a good thing, right?’’

‘’Yeah, but… they make me so nervous still,’’ you confessed, the point of your ears turning pink. You sighed and stared at the pillow in your hands like it could give you answers. ‘’I really like them, Junie.’’

Renjun patted your knee, smiling at you. ‘’Stop thinking hard, you should give it a go and have fun. Halloween it’s the perfect night to do mischief and shit, after all.’’

‘’Not in my room, hopefully,’’ Chenle said under his breath. He jumped out of the desk, sitting next to you on the bed. ‘’Yah, Renjun's right. You should have fun! What’s the worse could happen?’’

‘’Oh my God,’’ Hanni shirked, ‘’you look so hot!’’

You looked away from the mirror and smiled at her, winning yourself another gasp when she saw your whole outfit. The pep talk your friends gave you successfully poured courage into you, finally choosing to enjoy yourself for the night. 

You didn’t know if you were ready for the party and what could happen there, but you weren’t running anymore. You wanted to have fun with the boys you liked, enjoy what they could offer you. Even if that meant dealing with your nervous heart, but that was a problem for the future you.

Hanni had bought the costume you were wearing last year, but you decided it was too much and it ended up collecting dust in your closet, completely forgotten. But not that night, because Hanni's wish finally had come true and both of you were going to the NCT party with matching (very revealing in your opinion) costumes.

You were wearing a short, sexy baby blue latex dress, paired with red gloves of the same material, white high boots and stockings up to your thighs, a small apron tied tightly to your waist. And of course a white nurse headband, which you decided to stain with some splashes of fake blood to make it look more Halloween-ish.

Hanni was wearing a very similar outfit in the same material but in black, a sexy police officer costume with pink handcuffs hanging naughtily on her side.

‘’This is the best day of my life,’’ Hanni smiled, taking more photos of you with his phone, grinning like the cat who caught the mouse. ‘’The Lees will have a aneurysm on their cocks when they see you like this.’’

‘’Oh my God,’’ you laughed, throwing a blending sponge at her, mortified. ‘’Shut up!’’

‘’What? That's happening, girl! Such a bummer I can’t see it,’’ she pouted, putting away her phone. ‘’I’m getting candy with Sion before the party.’’

She winked at you, opening her small purse and taking out a small bag of candies, sending you flying kisses when you throwed her an unamused look. 

‘’I can’t believe you’re ditching me to get high with your boyfriend. You know how hard it was to put on his dress? I can barely breath!’’

‘’I knooow and you look so pretty! I wanna post our photos right now so bad,’’ she lamented, whining and stomping her feet. ‘’But I don’t wanna ruin the surprise for the guys. See? I’m an angel.’’

‘’Yeah, expelled from Heaven,’’ you joked, pushing her to the door, rolling your eyes. ‘’And there isn't a surprise for anyone. I’m just wearing a costume,’’ you lied, smiling despite yourself.

‘’Yeah, keep telling yourself that, hot nurse. Once you finally get your two boyfriends you’ll understand me,’’ she said, grinning and hugging you tightly. 

‘’I don’t think that’s the most possible outcome.’’

Hanni ignored that completely, clicking her tongue at you with a frown, hands on her waist. ‘’Don’t start, young lady.’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, go with your boyfriend,’’ you rolled your eyes smiling, giving her a soft push. ‘’If I get murdered on my way there, it’s gonna be on you.’’

Hanni gasped and raised her arm, pretending to have a knife and pinched your side playfully with her finger. ‘’Kill, kill, die, die!’’

‘’How do you even know that? You don’t like horror movies.’’

‘’Getting impaled with a dick counts as a stab?’’ She asked, tilting her head, an evil glint in her eyes.

You shrieked with a smile and gave her another push. ‘‘Just go!’’ 

The wicked laughs of your best friend resonated in the hallway as she left, gaining some looks from other sorority girls who were leaving as well. Your house was getting ready for the most expected party, the NCT’s Halloween one. 

Some frats couldn't compete with their parties, let alone their Halloween one. But one tried, as another party was happening at the ATZ house that night and definitely gained some attention on campus, students were divided between seeing what they could have in store and being faithful to NCT’s parties. Everybody was buzzing with excitement and the spirits were really high. You knew that NCT had the winning hand, because everybody wanted to see those damned Ghostface costumes in action.

You were going alone, because Renjun was getting ready with Ningning at her dorm and Chenle, well, he had planned something with Jisung and Hendery as far as you knew, some kind of prank on Johnny. Your nerves were up high and a stir of anxiety fucked up your mind a little bit, being the first time going alone to the frat. To a party frat.

As you started walking you felt at ease, seeing that the streets were full of people wearing costumes, talking, laughing, some even held baskets with candy, the regular ones. You noticed some eyes in you and tried to ignore it, knowing damn well you definitely stood up with a colorful outfit. A ring made you stop, the phone in your hand lit up with an incoming call, but before you could answer it something dark jumped in front of you. 

You scream, startled and ready to run again, but the obnoxious laugh of Liu Yangyang stopped you. You punched his arm with a heavy groan and that actually poured more gasoline into his loud laugh. But suddenly he stopped, lifting his mark and taking a good look to your body, his eyes burning holes in you.

‘’Fuck me,’’ he inhaled, taking in our outfit. ‘’You wanna be my girlfriend?’’

‘’No!’’ You were quick to respond, wishing to have a bat to hit his annoying face. Instead, you gave his arm another punch he tried to dodge with a big grin. ‘’Especially after you tried to give me a heart attack, Pinkie Pie.’’

‘’I had to give it a try,’’ Yangyang said, shrugging and putting his mask on again, laughing. ‘’See you at the party, hot stuff. Try and not get caught by another Ghostface, yeah scaredy cat?’’

Another punch went Yangyang's way but he dodge it successfully again, laughing as he left and ran to a group of girls that caught his attention. You scrunched your nose, seeing him waving his fake knife at a group of sorority girls who squealed in delight, entertained by the pink hair boy. 

As you were getting close to the NCT house, your senses were up high. Some trees trembled because of the wind, giving the night a creepy vibe, the moon shining in the darkness, as you couldn't help yourself from observing everything around you, remembering Yangyang’s stupid words: try and not get caught by another Ghostface.

Your phone rang again, taking you back to reality. Thinking it may be Hanni, you answered the call as you walked, now more aware of possible NCT members trying to scare you on your way. 

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Hello,’’ that electronic, deep voice you started to feel familiar said. ‘’Are you coming to the party?’’

Your eyes searched around you, that weird, uncertain feeling of paranoia expanding in your skin like crawls, making you tense. ‘’Who is it?’’

‘’You played that game and you lost it, gorgeous’’, the caller chuckled. ‘’Is that want you want, to play with me?’’

‘’I don’t wanna do anything with you,’’ you said with clenched teeth, walking faster. The wind had picked up, a cold breeze against your body and blowing some dry leaves. 

‘’But you already did, don’t break my heart like that,’’ the voice lamented, laughing softly. ‘’We’re having so much fun, don't you think?’’

You kept alerted, watching the people around you, looking for that stupid black costume. Yangyang’s warning resonated once again in your head, slowly halting your steps as your suspicion rose. Try and not get caught by another Ghostface.

‘’What do you want? Halloween’s over, this stupid joke’s over. No more calls,’’ you said, keeping at bay your tone, trying not to get scared or angry. ‘’No more stupid Ghostface.’’

The caller laughed in your ear, like it could see through your weak attempts. ‘’That doesn’t mean I’m done with you yet’’, the voice said seductively. ‘’Tonight it’s the perfect time, don’t you think, baby?’’

‘’The perfect time for what?’’ You asked annoyed, feeling relief filling your heart when you saw the NCT frat not that far, people coming in and the faint sound of loud music beating down the street. 

‘’To get you, pretty girl.’’

You heard the beeping of the call ending, eyeing your phone a little incredulous.  Did he cut you off? A hard scoff left your lips, rolling your eyes. A hard desire to throw your phone to the bushes tempted you, when it suddenly rang again.

Of course you picked up the private number’s call, fed up. ‘’What the fuck do you want!?’’

Another voice coming thru the modulator speaked, saying your name like it was tasting it on its tongue. The caller breathed heavily, his voice sounded… different. ‘’Hi, sweetie. Finally, I wanted to speak with you for so long.’’

‘’So long? You’ve been calling me the whole month, asshole. Are you gonna call the whole night too?’’

‘’The question is, can you keep up with me tonight? You see,’’ the caller laughed a little, making the skin of your arms come alive full of chills, ‘’we have a problem. I wanna go after you and stab that pretty body until you puke blood but I don’t think you can run with those shoes. And that’s half of the fun!’’

The voice gave you the chills, a heavy feeling of fear tightening your heart. You blinked rapidly, trying not to spiral in a full crisis, dropping your gaze to your high heels, a cute pair of white boots that reached your knees.

‘’How do you even know where I am?’’ You murmured, eyeing the entrance of the party, ready to make a bee line over there. ‘’How you know what I’m wearing?’’

‘’I’m watching you.’’ 

You swallowed, feeling like you were glued to the ground. ‘’Come out, then. Or don’t you dare, since I’m not alone?’’

‘’You think you’re safe? I could cut your throat right now and you wouldn't see it coming, dumb bitch.’’

A sudden noise startled you, coming from your side. You quickly hung up the call and walked hurriedly to the entrance that was clear, nobody there, not Taeyong or someone from NCT watching who entered, and the realization that you were actually alone scared you. It was like everybody disappeared into the party.

But before you could enter the frat house, another noise caught your attention. But it wasn't just a noise, it was a voice. A scream. 

You lifted your eyes and saw Kim Doyoung not that far away, standing right in the street, illuminated by its dim lights. Red, dark blood coming like a tsunami out of his opened mouth and sliding over his clothes like a wet, sticky veil. But he wasn't alone, because behind him was someone dressed as Ghostface, holding him by his neck and taking out a big knife out of Doyoung’s stomach, provoking a new wave of blood to splash everywhere. 

What. The. Fuck.

Try and not get caught by another Ghostface. Try and not get caught by another Ghostface. Try and not get caught by another Ghostface. Try and not get caught by another Ghostface.

Yangyang’s voice burned in your brain. You swore you heard a laugh coming from somewhere, making you hold the door handle harder as your heart pounded loudly, just like the music coming from the house.

‘’Alright, haha, nice joke, idiots,’’ you took a profound breath, chuckling awkwardly. ‘’I’m not falling for it again!’’

You shaked your head and stepped into the NCT frat, needing a fucking drink. 

You pushed bodies without a care in the world, unable to stop thinking about what you saw. Your eyes examined the dark room, seeing people drinking, dancing, making out in the corners and smoking, the usual scenes in NCT parties. Ghostfaces were everywhere, making you feel crazy when you tried to get a glimpse of knives in their hands, but the shadows and the dim lights made it hard for you. You tensed when you saw Jeno pinching the tip of his knife into the revealed stomach of a very giggly bunny who paid no mind, relaxing when you realised it was obviously fake.

Relax, you’re going insane, you thought rubbing your temples, needing a moment alone from all the people and music, overwhelmed already. This is a prank and it’s over.

You lifted your tired gaze and froze on the spot, seeing a Ghostface watching you from across the room. You holded its gaze, studying him as well. It was wearing his mask, no knife in hand, just… standing still. The loud music bumped around you, taking control of your already rapid palpitations, immersing you in the moment, hot.

He moved.

Ghostface started walking towards you, black body moving without difficulty in the sea of ​​people, making his way towards you like he owned the place, the flashing lights giving it a terrifying appearance that no one seemed to notice. 

You turned around and bolted. 

Knowing your way, you went straight to the stairs and you cursed in your mind your stupid idea of wearing that outfit, too difficult to move and to breath, the material clinging into you like a second, uncomfortable skin. You tried to climb the stairs as fast as you could, but it wasn’t enough because you felt a presence behind you, coming closer. You looked back and there he was, Mr Ghostface following you with calm steps, like he had the whole time in the world. 

You ignored him and tried not to freak out like other times, calmly trying to open the first room you knew, Chenle’s. You knocked and tried to open it, but no one responded and it was locked. You sighed loudly and crossed the hallway to your next target, Renjun’s room. When you saw behind you there was Ghostface, looking at you from across the hallway. You moved when he did, advancing once again towards you, intentions clear. 

A strange sense of deja vu washed over but you pushed that feeling to the back of your brain, heart pounding in your chest as you finally reached Renjun’s room and almost screamed in victory when it opened, stepping inside rapidly and closing the door behind you. 

You took a step back when you turned and saw another Ghostface laying on the bed, playing with a small knife that, for the fortune of your mental state, was obviously plastic, a toy. He looked at you and pushed his mask up slowly, revealing the handsome face of Mark Lee smirking at you. 

He lifted something small and white to his mouth, some kind of dispositive that came to life when he pushed a button. 

‘’Finally, baby. I was about to call you again, you know? What took you so long?’’ His electronic, deep voice said. A voice you knew really well.

‘’What?’’ You whispered, frozen and finding your voice after some seconds. The door opened behind you and made you jump, moving back when the other Ghostface entered the room. Your back crashed against someone, turning your head to see Mark behind you, looking at you intensely. 

‘’Look who I found,’’ Donghyuck said, pushing his mask up and throwing it aside. He locked the door, starting to get closer to you until you were trapped between them. ‘’Such a good girl, I knew you'd listen and come to us.’’

‘’Dressed so prettily too,’’ Mark said in your ear, hands roaming in your hips, fingers pinching the material of your short dress making you yelp when it hit your skin. ‘’You look so good, baby.’’

‘’She really does,’’ Donghyuck said, nudging your chin playfully with his knuckles. ‘’So fucking pretty. Cat caught your tongue, sweetheart?’’ 

You babbled, moving your eyes from one to the other, feeling the heat fill your body at their touches and closeness. Alarm tainted your voice, breaking your words a little. ‘’I— what is going on?’’ 

Donghyuck chuckled, grabbing a strand of hair and playfully wrapped it around his finger. ‘’I know you’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.’’ 

You looked from one to the other again, his bodies caging you between them. Mark hugged you from behind, preventing you from escaping like he could read your mind. ‘’The v-voice modulator. It was you… this whole time, it was you? The calls, the—’’

‘’We wanted your attention, princess. And you didn’t give us much of a choice, don’t you think? Avoiding us at parties—’’

‘’We never catch you alone,’’ Mark whispered in your ear, his hot breath making you tremble in his arms. He kissed your neck softly, tracing your skin with the tip of his nose as he speaked. ‘’Always running and hiding from us, playing.’’

‘’H-how— what the fuck?’’ You asked, looking at Donghyuck when he cradled your face, thumbs caressing lovingly your cheeks, amused at your small outburst. ‘’How did you know where I was? And— and the things I was doing?’’

‘’I did a really good job knowing your library schedules, don’t you think? And Mark, well, he’s fucking good at getting information. Chenle talks about you with him and doesn't even realize how much, about your books, your homework, your likes, how fun you are, how you hold the record in your group for most soju’s bottles in one night.’’

You keeped your silence, astonished at the truth of his words, hearing Mark’s endearing laugh behind you. You did have that record. You frowned, feeling something hot coming up and flying free from deep inside you, very different from fear, but burning the same.

‘’Are you fucking for real?’’ Your cold, annoyed tone resonated in the room. Long gone was your usual shyness, feeling so fed up— so much frustration and stress pinned up in your body, finally exploiting with a fire that kinda took everyone by surprise, including you. ‘’So this was your plan? Stalking and chasing me playing god damn Ghostface? As a way of courting me?!’’

‘’Don’t forget about making you cum as many times as possible,’’ Donghyuck mused, smiling when you shook his hands off your face. He bumped you softly on the nose. ‘’That was part of the plan too.’’

‘’I can’t believe this. You’re both fucking insane!’’

Donghyuck gave you an unamused look, arching a brow as he studied your face. ‘’You think we’re idiots? That we don’t notice the way you always look at us? Like you’re asking us with those cute, shy eyes to be fucked stupid.’’

‘’Why you’re acting like you don’t like it, baby?’’ Mark purred in your ear, his arms squeezing you possessively against him. ‘’We just gave you what you wanted. You told Chenle that your favorite movie was Scream, remember? I know how you love horror movies.’’

You scoffed, giving him a push with your elbow, ‘’Yeah, so? You turned my life into a scary movie because— because of that?’’

Mark clicked his tongue, chucking darkly behind you. ‘’We wanted to give you a little thrill, something that will make you finally play with us. And you did so well, baby, we’re proud of you, our brave girl. I saw the real you, that alive look on your face, how you liked our games. You were looking for us, turning around and waiting, don’t you, pretty girl?’’

You couldn't answer that. You bit your lip, thinking about how you picked up every call, how you didn’t turn off your phone or told somebody else besides Hanni. You didn’t report the things that were occurring. You didn’t change your number of speaked to Taeyong to stop the joke on you as the frat president, knowing he had that type of control. Sometimes you even expected a call, a challenge to your fears, to your control. You liked the attention, the luring feeling of waiting… something. It was true, maybe? You liked the fear, the paranoia? How did they challenged you? You couldn't even begin to unroll those odd questions, bubbling in your mind like poison, confusing you. Making fun of you for… liking it. But admitting that out loud? No way. 

Heat rushed to your face, ashamed that, deep inside you, you weren’t that mad. You liked how they took care of you, how they kissed you until you forgot about everything, how their eyes lingered in you after, like they wanted more. Because you wanted them, and they chased you. You blinked at Donhyuck’s neck, unable to hold his eyes, feeling that you got caught doing something wrong. They just confessed being your stalkers, the ones who played with your mind and you felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner. 

Their voices, how they spoke to you in those calls, how you never said their names when trying to guess who it was. Maybe, stashed so deep in your mind you don’t even dared to think about it, you knew.

And you kept the game going. 

Donghyuck kissed your cheek, laughing when he noticed your face and your silence, how the fire inside you subsided and you were watching him wariness, like he had another card up in his sleeve. Of course, being him, he had. ‘’Maybe you have a thing for psychos, have you thought about that?’’

‘’Look what you made us do, baby,’’ Mark clicked his tongue, giving a hard squeeze to your ass that made you jump with a surprised squeal, your chest colliding with Hyuck’s. ‘’I told you no more running, and what did you do? You hid from me, leaving me blue balled and all alone for days. You think that was fair?’’

‘’Can’t relate,’’ Donghycuks smirked, hand grabbing your jaw and giving a little slap in your cheek with the other, making you whimper. ‘’But that isn't very nice of you, don’t you think? You’re not gonna apologize to Mark, brat?’’

Your breath catched, his harsh, seductive order was clear. Turning over your shoulder to see Mark, his dark eyes followed every one of your movements, waiting. He pressed his glowing erection against your ass, rubbing himself in you and smirking when a soft gasp left you and didn’t pull apart. 

You licked your lips, blinking at him timidly, noticing the storm forming in his brown eyes. ‘’I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to,’’ you whispered, watching him from underneath your lashes. Mark scoffed and turned you around, grabbing your face, his mouth descending on yours. ‘’I’m sorry, Mark.’’

‘’You fucking better be,’’ he said before kissing you hard, eating the whimper that you left out. 

Donghyuck chuckled behind you, taking Mark’s prior position and rutted against your ass, his hands hovering over your body possessively. He kissed your neck and shoulders, making sure to leave marks behind, sucking into your skin as he squeezed your ass. You moaned in Mark’s mouth, daring to take your hand to his hard bulge that was pressing against your stomach.

Mark growled in your lips. ‘’You gotta prove it, baby. If you’re so sorry get on your fucking knees for us,’’ he said, pushing his clothed cock into your hand with a groan. 

Donghyuck gave you a deliberate, slow shove to your head, a needy whimper coming out of you as you did what you were told, obeying their commands and kneading in the ground slowly. Your knees touched the soft carpet and you lifted your eyes to them, your hands grabbing at your own thighs tightly, heart going crazy as you expected another order to come your way with heat traveling in your body and pooling between your legs.

‘’Good girl, you love this, don’t you? Having two cocks just for you, ready to fill all your holes,’’ Donghyuck smiled down at you, patting your head sweetly. He slapped you without force, not that hard but enough to move your face, making you moan when he pushed his fingers past your lips at the opportunity. ‘’We have to stretch that throat too, yeah?’’

Your cheeks burned just like your whole body, feeling like you had fallen into a different dimension. All you could feel was the hot, wet throbbing in your cunt, ruining your lace panties. It felt so good being controlled like that, seeing the two men watching you with identical intense gazes, taking in your sexy outfit like it was both a curse and a blessing. It felt powerful. You were the one who turned them like that. So hard for you, desperate for you, so insane for you. 

In the middle of your foggy mind you remembered Chenle’s words, talking about how they understood each other. They matched perfectly. Mark and Donghycuk moved like different pieces on a board, but with the same objective. With the same intent of win, of conquer. 

They cooed at you when you choked a little around Hyuck’s fingers when he pushed them deep, making you gag a little at the intrusion in your throat, his knuckles glazing past your teeth.

‘’Keep that mouth open,’’ Mark ordered you once Donghycuk took off his fingers, licking your saliva off them. He groaned, pleased when he noticed you even took your tongue out, breathing heavily. ‘’Good girl, doing so well.’’

You whimpered at his words, blushing as you watched how they started undressing, taking off their Ghostface tunics. Their cocks made tents in their pants, the image making you salivate with another needy moan, both males chucking darkly at your eagerness and how an embarrassing amount of spit was dripping from your lips. They quickly took off their pants, stroking their lengths in front of your face, your glazed eyes following their hands, sparkling with sheer lust.

Mark was as big as Donghyuck, veiny and long. You stared hard at both of them, rubbing your thighs timidly to try and get some friction on your palpitating clit. Of course both noticed, Donghyuck being the one who made a ponytail on your hair, throwing your head back. 

‘’Aw, are you all hot and bothered, sweetheart?’’ He mocked you, rubbing the tip of his cock on your cheek. ‘’Such a needy slut, all wet and horny.’’

‘’We’re gonna give you what you want, baby,’’ Mark promised you, tapping his cock on your dripping tongue, making you moan softly. ‘’Open big, yeah?’’

You nodded as he pushed his length into your mouth, moaning huskily at the sensation of your wet, warm mouth welcoming him. You sucked him, moving your tongue around him as you bobbed your head with Donghyuck’s help, who kept a tight grip on your hair. Mark’s whole length barely fitted in your mouth but you tried anyway, taking all you could, relaxing your mouth and jaw. 

‘’That’s it, keep going, baby. Take it all,’’ Donghyuck praised you, smiling when he heard you gagging around Mark’s dick with every deep push of his. ‘’You’re doing so good for us, you’re made for suck our cocks.’’

‘’Fuuuck,’’ Mark moaned, pushing deeply, slowly into your mouth, dragging his length back and forth. ‘’Feels fucking good, baby, keep sucking,’’ he breathed, shoving his cock down your throat until your eyes filled with tears from the effort of trying to get as much as you could of him. ‘’Such a pretty mouth, taking me all in.’’

Mark removed his cock after some long seconds, cooing at you when you coughed and took a breath, looking so fucking pretty. It was Donghyuck's turn as he pushed his thick cock in your mouth, smirking when you immediately started to suck it, moving your lips around him as your eyes shily holded his gaze.

Your hand reached and started to stroke Mark’s cock, making him moan as you moved your pumped him faster while you sucked Donghyuck eagerly, bobbing your head trying to get all of his length. You let it go with a loud, wet pop, turning your face towards Mark’s and taking him in your mouth again whimpering, not wasting time as you sucked his cock again, making yourself a mess of spit and tears.

‘’Doing so well, you look so pretty like this,’’ Donghyuck moaned, pushing his hips into your hand, sharp eyes watching you full of heat. ‘’Sucking our cocks like a good slut,’’ he purred, grabbing his own dick and slapping it in your face, caressing your soft skin, waiting for his turn. 

‘’C’mere baby,’’ Mark said breathlessly, taking a step back and helping you stand up. He laid on the bed and smiled at you, a smug, full on himself smirk that made your knees weaken. Mark pulled you into his body, and you looked at him confused, a little lost about what he wanted. ‘’Sit on my face.’’

‘’Mark!’’ You gasped, burning red. ‘’Thats—’’

‘’Fucking hot,’’ Donghyuck rasped in your ear, pushing you towards his friend’s body. ‘’Let Mark eat your perfect pussy, sweetheart. Show him how wet you are, yeah?’’

Donghyuck grabbed your jaw and kissed you hard, tongue coaxing you to ease, compliant, moaning into his mouth when his hand reached between your legs, catching the wet trace of your slick leaking down your thighs. He rubbed your clit slowly as he played with your tongue, turning you into a whole whimpering mess in no time. 

‘’Look at you,’’ Mark said, stroking his cock as he could’t stop watching the way you were making sounds so fucking alluring, hearing the wet noise of your folds being explored by Donghyuck’s fingers. ‘’So fucking soaked, aren’t you? I can’t wait to taste you, baby.’’

Hyuck’s fingers kept taunting you, moving in circles on your clit, making you arch your back in need of more of his touch. Your eyes locked with Mark’s, who maintained his sharp, burning eyes on you, taking in every little detail of your reactions, the erotic, breathless, little sounds you made. Donghyuck pushed one finger inside you, moving it slowly in and out of you, chin placed in your shoulder. You shuddered and gasped loudly when he added another and then more, his three fingers opening you with deep, long thrusts until you clenched around them, the loud, wet sound of your pussy being pounded echoing around you, making Mark and Donghyuck growl.

‘’Don’t keep him waiting,’’ Donghyuck said as he helped you get out of your panties, both males groaning when they noticed it matched our outfit, red lace completely wet in your juices. He tasted you in his fingers, licking them clean. ‘’I’m fucking keeping these,’’ he said under his breath, throwing it into the other bed. 

Even if you had it before, nothing really could have prepared you for the feeling of Mark’s mouth on you again, thighs shaking on each side of his head in anticipation, his hot breath crashing against your wet cunt. Mark started giving you long strikes with his tongue until you whimpered, so out of it already you didn’t notice Donghyuck climbing to the bed too. 

The position made you feel so exposed and dirty and you liked that. You sinked into Mark’s face, pushing your core into his mouth as he ate you out eagerly, twisting his tongue on your clit and sucking it non stop, pleasure sending shivers down your body. Your hips rolled in his face, moaning and taking his hair in your hands as you rode his mouth moaning like you were in heat. You felt a hand on your head and looked up, encountering Donghyuck’s cock pushing into your mouth.

‘’Open up,’’ he ordered, smiling when you did it immediately, wrapping his length in your mouth and sucking, taking a shaky breath through your nose. ‘’That’s my girl, let me use that pretty mouth.’’

You nodded with a loud moan, moving your hips back and forth on Mark’s face, feeling his hands grabbing your ass and squeezing it, pushing you down into his tongue harder. He pushed it into your entrance, catching every drop of your juices and tasting it desperately, slurping and sucking. Donghyuck used your mouth, thrusting into it over and over, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and chin as you kept it opened for him, blinking slowly at his twisted expression, eyes burning darky.

‘’Fuck yes, just like that,’’ Donghyuck moaned, holding with one hand onto the headboard of the bed and the other sunk in your hair, your poor nurse headband lost long ago, falled into the ground. You choked on his cock, moaning as Marks gave you a hash suck on your clit. ‘’You look so cute sucking my cock, fuck.’’

Mark didn’t give you any mercy, eating your cunt so viciously it drove you crazy with pleasure, riding his face as you chase your climax, his tongue lapping at your pussy until you crushed his head between your thighs when it was too much, so much pleasure it almost broke you. Your body shook and you moaned with your lips wrapped in Donghyuck’s cock, cuming so hard you thought you may have gone delirious, all to blame on Mark’s expert tongue. 

You breathed shakily, barely registering what Donghyuck said as you felt aftershocks of your climax still, Mark’s mouth kissing and moving his tongue on you still, now at a more lazily rhythm that provoked more moans out of you, overstimulated.

‘’I’m gonna cum,’’ Donghyuck whined, fisting his cock close to your face. You nodded and held your mouth open for him, pleading with your teary, clouded eyes and soft tongue hanging. Seeing your mascara lines down your cheeks and your lipstick all smudged, Donghyuck reached his limit. ‘’Swallow, princess. It’s fucking yours.’’

Thick, warm stripes of cum landed in your face and mouth, hearing his labored breaths as he cummed with a deep moan, tasting him on your tongue as you rapidly swallowed his load. You stroked his cock softly with your hand, giving him tiny licks on the tip, sucking it coyly until there were no more drops to taste. 

Donghyuck was in the same state as you, a whole mess of moans and remains of the best orgasm he ever had lingering in his body. Mark shifted below you, taking your waist and moving you backwards, inhaling while he licked his lips clean, mouth and chin shining with your slick. 

‘’Sweetest pussy I ever taste,’’ he murmured, giving you a sharp smile and a spank to your ass, making you cry in surprise. ‘’I can’t wait to fuck you. C’mere, pretty girl.’’

They were clearly not done with you yet.

His hands guided you exactly where you belonged, his lap. Mark grabbed his shaft, guiding his stiff cock into your folds, sliding it between them, catching your wetness with it. He smiled when he gave you teasing slaps with his length, focusing on your clit until you whined and tried to push him.

‘’That sensitive, baby? I haven’t given you my cock yet and you’re already shattering? Mh, maybe you can’t handle us.’’

‘’N-no, I can! Mark,’’ you said breathlessly when he kept teasing you with his cock, rubbing it in your pussy slowly, making you feel how hard and big he was. Your eyes shut down, lips trembling in a pout. ‘’Please, just—’’

‘’Just what, mmh? Now your needy pussy wants my cock, is that so?’’ He mocked you, his large hands caressing your back and kneading your ass, his lower, intimate voice having such a strong effect on you. You didn’t doubt, pushing your hips back and forth to try and get more friction against his cock, desperate. ‘’C’mon. Talk, baby, or you won’t get anything.’’

‘’Yes, I want it,’’ you cried, the sharp noise Mark made, his breath caught. ‘’Please, can I have it? Just— just fuck me hard, Mark. I need your cock so bad, please.’’

Both males growled, completely mesmerized by you. Hair tousled, make up ruined, making your eyes look more big and wild, lips swollen from kissing and sucking. 

You were so fucking theirs.

Mark pressed the tip of his cock on your entrance, smirking when you reacted immediately, your hands grabbing his shoulders and nailing your nails on his skin. He didn’t let you run from it, his strong hands pushing you down on his thick length, making you feel the burn of the stretch, how he made his way inside you until you felt so full you couldn't think.

A hoarse moan left you, clenching around him and causing Mark to gave you another spank in your ass, hard, pushing his hips up until his balls pressed against you. 

‘’If you wanted it so bad then fucking take it, baby. Ride my cock,’’ he ordered, watching you intensely. He smirked when you did it, slowly starting to move your hips, your brows slightly furrowed as you tried to do it, but his size didn’t quite help. You whimpered, moving around him and feeling so full and exposed, aching for their touch. Mark coed at you, taking your face in his hands, kissing you. He bit your lip playfully, giving more soft and wet kisses, relaxing you. ‘’Good girl, you’re doing so well, just like that. Take it.’’

‘’Mark, it's so— I’m so full,’’ you moaned, fastening your movements, taking his cock further every time, hitting all your right spots. ‘’I-i feel you everywhere,’’ you said, taking one of his hands and placing it in your lower belly, whimpering. ‘’You’re so deep.’’

You rode him faster, making both of you moan as the pleasure consumed your bodies, nothing in your head, just letting your body take control. Your hips rolled, sinking into him entirely, covering it with a mix of your juices and his precum, your wetness making it more easily to take him as his cock opened and opened you more.

In the middle of it, you sensed something, someone, next to you. Donghyuck kissed your cheek, licking it softly, smiling as he moved his hand down the valley of your breast, pushing down your dress until your tits flew free. He grabbed one and massaged it in his hand possessively, pinching and pulling your sensitive nipples, making Mark whimper of how hard you clenched around his cock.

‘’Fuck, you’re so perfect, baby. This pretty pussy is all ours, no one gets to see you like this, just us,’’ Mark growled, catching one of your nipples with his mouth once Donghyuck withdrew his fingers. He sucked it hard, moving his tongue around you, making you moan and rode him faster. ‘���You’re ruined. No one else will ever fuck your tight pussy like us, you know that, right?’’

‘’Yes, yes, Mark— please, I’m-i’m just yours,’’ you moaned, feeling another hand cradling your jaw. Donghyuck turned your face to him so he could kiss you, opening your mouth with his tongue, moving it lazily against yours. 

‘’Mmm, what about me, sweetheart? You’re mine too?’’ Donghyuck whispered cruelly in your ear, tone lowering dangerously. He licked your ear slowly, pushing his tongue inside it and twirling it, the wet sound and sensation making you whimper hard. But that wasn't enough, because soonly his fingers found the point hidden between the cheek of your ass, brushing his fingertips there as he kept making out with your ear.

‘’Yes, fuck, I’m yours too,’’ you murmured, nailing your nails in Mark until he hissed under you, riding him quickly, setting a brutal pace that was destroying both of you. Shallow breaths, broaked moans and growls, just desperately fucking eachother, drunk of passion. 

You felt Donghyuck’s fingers gathering some split out of his mouth, winking at you like the devil. His fingers went back to the place they were teasing, feeling how he spread out the wetness in your asshole, making you turn a little alarmed. 

‘’Keep riding Mark or we won’t let you come, brat,’’ he warned, using the hold he had in your jaw to turn your head again. He slowly pushed one finger into your tight hole, making your eyes go big by the unknown, but good, intromission. You moaned, standing still, sitting on Mark’s cock, pushing him deep down on you. 

Donghyuck moved his finger in and out of your ass, smiling when Mark growled and pushed his pelvis up, thrusting into you. ‘’Pretty princess can’t take it? What you’re gonna do when we both fuck you, huh?’’

His tongue brushed your ear, whispering dirty nothings into you, holding your throat and squeezing it tight enough. Your body almost went limp, feeling your holes dilating, full of them, head spinning. Mark hugged your waist, keeping you still as he rammed into your pussy, fucking you hard and fast, slaming his cock into you until you were a sobbing mess. Donghyuck kept opening your ass two, adding another finger and leaving them there, a hot presence that reminded you that they owned you, your body, your moans, everything. And you were giving it to them.

‘’Oh my God, fuck,’’ you breathed, thighs shaking around Mark’s hips, your eyes dilated. ‘’I’m-im cumming,’’ you cried, letting your body loose, letting them hold you. Your body shook, an explosion of pleasure breaking your body in two, cuming so hard you couldn't even make a sound, just a shallow choke.

‘’Fuck yes, cum on my cock, baby, fuck— so pretty and good, I’m fucking filling you up,’’ Mark said, growling. He slammed his cock into you, making you whimper but letting him use your body, falling into his chest when Donghyuck let the grasp on your neck go.

He stilled inside you, his arms almost crushing you but you didn’t care. Mark looked so good, so feral, some sweat covering his face, remaining you who he looked after an intense basketball game. His hands pushed you against him, holding into you as he cummed hard, filling you to the brim with his load, thick cum warm inside you. 

You were destroyed. So deliciously destroyed. 

Your eyes were barely opened, your face hid in Mark’s neck, trying to catch your breath. You felt hands caressing you, both Donghyuck and Mark’s, smoothing your skin, leaving soft kisses.

‘’What do we say, sweetheart?’’ Donghyuck reminded you, giving a soft kiss on your shoulder.

‘’Mh, thank you,’’ you murmured with a contently sigh, laying on Mark’s chest completely out of it.

‘’You trained her so well, Haechan,’’ Mark snorted against your temple, his hands now touching you more gently, caressing your waist. ‘’Such a good girl for us, really. ’’

Donghyuck gave him a smug look, his hand tracing softly the line of your column. ‘’Are you okay, sweetheart? Talk to us.’’

‘’I think… you both fucked my soul outta me,’’ you said, too exhausted to open your eyes.

Mark chuckled, hugging you tightly with a soft kiss to your temple. ‘’That’s okay. We can always put it back the same way.’’

‘’Get your cocks away from me,’’ you whined softly, snuggling your face in his neck with a weak laugh, spent. 

Donghyuck laughed, moving his eyebrows up and down as he tucked a strand of hair out of your face, fingertips tracing your cheek carefully. 

‘’That’s not happening, princess. The quicker you get used to, the better.’’

‘’What now?’’ You asked, blinking groggily, moving your face up a little so you could see both of the boys.

‘’Now we tell you everything,’’ Mark started, taking a deep sigh. 

It was hard to fit three people in one small bed, but all of you managed to. You were laying against Donghyuck's chest as he played with your hair, with Mark sitting in front of you both, his hand stroking your leg. Your pretty but uncomfortable dress was long gone, now replaced with Mark’s favorite hoodie, the one that had his team number below his surname written in big, white letters: LEE.

They had cleaned you, hydrated you and forced you to eat some packs of candy and gummies too, all of you sharing them. If someone told you months ago you’d be eating Halloween candy with your crushes after an intense fuck session, you'd laugh in their faces.

You felt more at ease in their presences, not that timid, but still eyeing him, thinking about them. Donghyuck words lingered in your mind as you played absently with the hoodie paws covering your hands. Maybe you have a thing for psychos, have you thought about that?

Well. It looked like you fucking did. You ponder at the thought, unable to stop your little smile.

But you still had things in your chest that you had to say, shadows that were still nagging your mind, questions that needed answers.

‘’You know, you really went overboard with the stabbing thing,’’ you gave them an unamused look, shaking your head. You fixed your eyes on Mark, frowning a little. ‘’And the last call. You had to go all murdery and call me a bitch?’’

‘’What?’’ Donghyuck snapped his head quickly towards Mark, his eyes hardening. 

‘’What?’’ Mark repeated, big, brown eyes reflecting how completely lost he was. It was so interesting, how those eyes burned into a storm before, but now they were shining almost innocently. Like the Mark you knew. ‘’What are you talking about? I didn’t call you that.’’

‘’Um— you even said that you’ll cut my throat or something,’’ you laughed dry, the sound coming shallow to your ears. ‘’That was too much. You were… really channeling Scream with that one.’’

He said your name, expression turning serious, eyes studying your face. ‘’Baby, I would never say something like that to you. I mean— I know I say nasty things to you, but never if I don’t know you'd like it. I didn't make that call.’’

Your eyes moved to Donghyuck, frowning. ‘’I didn’t do that call either,’’ he murmured, noticing a heavy, weird feeling falling into all of you, a sudden silence.

You took a deep breath, looking at Mark again, feeling cold even swallowed in his warm hoodie. ‘’But, but what about the other joke? That was so real, like, I through Doyoung wasn't supposed to be here…?’’

‘’Doyoung?’’ Donghyuck said, sharing a confused look with his friend. His hand reached yours, grabbing them softly to get your attention. ‘’You really got us lost here, princess. What are you talking about?’’

‘’How do you even— no wonder he’s majoring in Theater, that was… he’s a really good actor,’’ you eyed both curiously, getting chills at the bloody memory, still a little shaken by it. ‘’Who was that Ghostface? Was it you, Hyuck? Mark was already here, right?’’

The tense, weird silence that deepened made you frown, confused by their reactions. They seemed a little pale, worry radiating from their stiff bodies as you continued talking. Something was wrong.

You licked your dry lips, feeling a little shy of speaking under their intense gazes. ‘’I saw Doyoung getting stabbed, haha, I get it, Scream it’s pretty bloody,’’ you breathed. ‘’I guess you guys are really good at this whole Ghostface thing,’’ you said with a nervous, short laugh. But you stopped laughing slowly when none of your lovers were laughing with you. 

They looked… scared. Panicking sliding into their eyes.

Mark’s hand reached and brushed your cheek slowly, his body coming closer to yours. ‘’Baby, that’s—that’s impossible. Doyoung-hyung isn’t here. He left days ago.’’

‘’What? No, that’s— I saw him outside, he was— bleeding and,’’ you stopped yourself, maniacally moving your eyes from one to the other. ‘’Stabbed and… that… that wasn’t any of you?’’

Mark looked increasingly pale by the second, and it was Donghyuck who got out of bed without saying anything in a swift motion, going to the door and making sure it was well locked before picking up his phone from where it was charging with a low curse. It took Mark a few seconds, but he finally reacted, blinking like he just woke up from a profound dream.

‘’We didn’t do that,’’ Mark whispered to you, his tone tainted with uneasiness. ‘’What you saw— that wasn't a joke.’’

[ink-stainedkiss]

Bunny!Geto who loves to find comfort in silence. He doesn’t like loud noises and while he doesn’t consider you to be loud, he cherishes the peaceful moments when it’s just you and him. In the early mornings, when Geto reads the books scattered in your home and you are busy with your own task. He can’t help but catch glimpses of your focused expression and smile.

Bunny!Geto who has to always be on alert, since you don’t know how to keep your hands off his little tail. You can’t help it, it’s just so fluffy and you have to hold back a squeal when it unconsciously twitches. He always denies it, but there are a few videos of the little fluff ball shaking happily as you scratch his back that would beg to differ.

Bunny!Geto who feels bad that he can’t express how thankful he is for you. You were the one that practically scooped him up off the merciless streets. Some nights he thinks back to the first time he met you and how hostile he was. If he gets too far into his imagination, he’ll try and think of where he would be if he hadn’t decided to stay with you. Ultimately he’ll become sad and end up clingier than usual.

It happened again, Geto had a nightmare. He was an extremely independent hybrid, barely letting you coddle him unless he was under the weather. So it wasn’t exactly easy for him to rise from his bed and try and find comfort from you. It may sound childish, and believe Geto that he doesn’t exactly feel proud when he has these terrible dreams, but they have gotten better since you gave him a place to stay.

They are just quick flashes of the life he had before. Living on the streets and hiding in alleyways was how Geto managed to scrape by, praying that the trash can he found had some sort of food. The thoughts made his stomach churn in disgust. Geto had been restless the entire night, so he only had one option to get rid of this feeling.

The bunny stood in front of your door, contemplating whether he should just turn and not worry you about his past, but shockingly, the door swung open,revealing you. Geto could see you had been awake for a while. Raising a brow at the hybrid,”Are you okay?” Shit, Geto hadn’t even glanced at a mirror, how bad did he look? You glanced around your room, voice dropping to a small whisper,”Did you want to come in?”

Without a moment of hesitation, Geto walked in, admiring how homey your room looked. You got back into your comforter, grabbing the book you had put aside when you saw Geto’s figure standing at your door. As you got settled, you looked up to see Geto just standing there, like if he were to move something would explode. Covering your small giggle, you lifted the other half of your blankets,” You can lay with me, I don’t mind.”

The bunny gave you a short nod and slid into the side next to you. Not wanting to push him out of his comfort zone, you went back to reading. Geto’s droopy ears twitched as he heard you mumble something under your breath. Turning to his side, he realized you were mouthing the words on the page. He tried to be subtle as he got a peek, but it was no use. You were about to flip the page when you felt a little push on your arm. It took you a second to realize what happened and when you looked over, you saw Geto staring at you very keenly.

You knew Geto liked reading, but you also saw the tiredness in his eyes, so you put two and two together,”Do you want me to read out loud?” A tiny spark of happiness ignited in his deep purple eyes and out of excitement he got closer, pulling you in a hug. Immediately Geto tried to pull off, thinking he messed it all up, but before he could, your arm wrapped him. He tensed, but when you began to read, he slowly calmed down. Your words were like velvet and soon enough sleep creeped closer to him. It’s simple to say that wasn’t the last night Geto wound his way into your bed for the night.

Bunny!Geto who doesn’t hesitate when you ask to play with his hair. Like his ears, his hair was jet black and extremely beautiful. You could drag your fingers through it without catching on a single knot. It’s your favorite pastime to play with his hair, either after a long day at work or you are just bored, it’s easy to get lost in his long strands. For a while, you weren’t sure why Geto would click his teeth between humming to your words, but after looking it up, you realized what it meant.

[alwayssassydreamer]

When You're Gone

A/N: thank you Ann(on) for the idea with that song, (god it's been so long since I listened to that song.) request: "shanksxgnreader, sfw and maybe the song when I'm gone by Avril Lavigne" hope you like it

We were made for each other, out here forever I know we were, yeah, yeah And all I ever wanted was for you to know Everything I do, I give my heart and soul I can hardly breathe, I need to feel you here with me, yeah

Summary: you are in a relationship with Shanks but being apart is always hard (sorry that summary sucks)

Warnings: sfw, no warnings really,

Characters: Shanks x GnReader

The sea was never silent. The waves roared, the wind whispered, and yet, without him, it all felt deafeningly empty.

You stood at the docks, gripping the wooden railing so tightly your knuckles turned white. The salty breeze tangled in your hair, but you barely felt it. All you could feel was the aching absence in your chest, the weight of loneliness pressing down on you.

Shanks was gone. Again.

It wasn’t a surprise. You had always known what loving him meant, he was a pirate, a man of freedom, the kind of person who came and went like the tides. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

At first, you had told yourself it wouldn’t be so bad. You were strong, independent, used to being on your own. Shanks had never belonged to anyone but the sea, and you had never been the type to wait around for a man.

But damn it, you missed him.

You missed the way he’d tease you with that lazy smirk, the way his voice softened when it was just the two of you. You missed the warmth of his presence, how effortlessly he made you feel like you belonged at his side, even when the rest of the world made you doubt.

When you’re gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you…

At night, it was the worst.

The empty space in your bed felt hollow, cold. You had gotten used to waking up to his arm slung lazily over your waist, to his slow, steady breathing beside you. Some nights, when sleep refused to come, you’d roll over and press your face into the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of him that still lingered there. But it was fading, just like the warmth he had left behind, the memories flooded in, and you were left with nothing but the echo of his voice and the emptiness beside you.

You had spent years convincing yourself you were fine on your own, that you didn’t need anyone. But now… now you caught yourself scanning the faces in the port regularly, hoping for a flash of red hair, a familiar silhouette in the distance. Every time, disappointment followed.

You had tried to keep yourself busy, burying yourself in your work, training until your muscles ached, anything to keep your mind from replaying his laughter, his teasing remarks, the way his arm felt around your waist when he pulled you close.

You hated it. Hated that he had managed to carve his way into your heart so deeply that even others could see the hollow space he had left behind. You sighed, closing your eyes against the sting of unshed tears.

When you’re gone, the face I came to know is missing too…

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

The last time he left, he had kissed you like he meant to stay. He had cupped your cheek in his hand, eyes holding something unspoken, something too big to fit into words. He had kissed you slow, deep, as if trying to make the moment last.

"I’ll see you soon," he had promised, his forehead resting against yours.

But "soon" was a vague concept when it came to Shanks.

You sighed, raking a hand through your hair. It was foolish to let yourself drown in thoughts of him. You had things to do, responsibilities to uphold. You had survived worse things than this, so why did his absence feel like a wound that refused to close?

You turned away from the railing, ready to retreat to your small home you for another sleepless night.

A gust of wind swept past, carrying the scent of the sea and something else, something familiar. Your eyes snapped open, your pulse quickening as you turned, half-daring to hope.

And there he was.

Standing at the end of the dock, grinning like he had never been gone at all. His red hair was tousled by the wind, his coat slightly worn from travel. His eyes locked onto yours, unreadable for a moment before softening into something warm, something that made your chest tighten.

"Miss me?" Shanks drawled, stepping forward, voice laced with amusement.

You exhaled sharply, taking a step forward before stopping yourself. The months apart, the loneliness, the unanswered questions all of it crashed into you at once.

He must have seen it in your expression because his smirk faded. "I know," he murmured, stepping closer. "I took too long. But i told you that I'll be back."

The anger, the sadness, the loneliness they all melted away in that instant. You crossed the distance in a few quick strides, punching him lightly in the chest, torn between anger and relief. "You bastard," you muttered, voice shaking. "You—"

But before you could finish, he closed the distance, pulling you into his arms.

Shanks chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against yours as he pulled you even closer. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. "You know," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with that irresistible charm, "I sailed halfway across the world just to see that glare of yours. Missed it almost as much as I missed your smile."

You huffed, trying to hide the way your heart raced. "Idiot."

He just grinned wider, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Maybe. But I'm your idiot. And if I have to fight the sea itself to keep coming back to you, I will because there’s no place I’d rather be than right here, holding you."

His lips found yours, in a tender loving kiss and you realized that loving him was worth every second of the pain of missing him.

Shanks pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your cheek. His voice softened, and a rare, serious glint appeared in his eyes.

"You know," he whispered, his thumb gently stroking your skin, "I never realized how much I needed you until I was too far away to turn back. When you're gone... everything just feels wrong."

He looked into your eyes, his smile softer now, his usual playful demeanor giving way to something raw and real. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"I kept thinking about you. About us. And it hit me, I don’t just want the sea, the adventure, or the freedom. I want you by my side."

He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as he continued. "I realized that no matter where I go or what I do, it’s all pointless if you’re not with me. You’re part of me now. I never knew how much I needed you until I couldn’t reach out and pull you into my arm(s.)"

His voice wavered, and he looked almost unsure for once. "I know I’m a charming idiot most of the time, and I don’t deserve to ask anything of you... but being away made me realize that I’m better when I’m with you. Everything I do feels right when I know you’re part of it. I don’t want to be without you anymore. So do you want to join me and my crew?"

You couldn’t hold back anymore and threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss that spoke of all the longing, all the sleepless nights, and all the whispered promises to the wind. Shanks wrapped his arm around you, holding you like you were his anchor, the only thing keeping him grounded in this chaotic world.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and with your heart racing, he grinned, that familiar spark back in his eyes. "Is that a yes?" he teased.

You just rolled your eyes. "Sure, captain charming".

When you're gone... the words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it okay. I miss you.

[ldolbybts]

Forbidden - Part 2

Pairing ➜ Dealer!yoongi x Female Reader Warnings ➜ 18+, sex, male receiving oral, little bit of angst Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him. Word Count ➜ 7.7K

Part 1

The next morning you woke up with a killer headache and a dry mouth. You turned to your right and saw a passed-out Taehyung lying next to you.

Your eyes widened as you quickly tried to recall last night’s events.

After your phone call with Yoongi, you had quickly stripped Jin’s sheets and replaced them with a fresh pair, looking for a washing machine you threw them in, hoping no questions would be asked. It was a strange challenge to complete when drunk but luckily nobody had seen you and you had got it done relatively quick.

You had then went back downstairs and partied. Hard.

You remembered at about 5am you were too tired and Jin had announced you could sleep in any of the bedrooms, Taehyung had followed you to talk but you both had just ended up passing out.

You smiled, remembering Taehyung had been concerned with no ulterior motives, you two were just talking complete nonsense however for about an hour before you both had just fallen asleep.

You reached out to the bedside table, where you had left your phone and checked the time.

10AM it had read, only 4ish hours of sleep? Why the hell were you awake?

You saw you had a message from Yoongi, but you were pretty sure you needed a few more hours of sleep if you wanted to text back anything that made actual sense.

You did however make the valiant effort of plugging your phone into a charger before passing out again.

When you woke up again you didn’t know how much time had passed.

You reached out for you phone again to see it read 1PM, Taehyung was still miracuously passed out beside you.

You took a minute to examine his features, how the fuck did anyone deserve to be that beautiful? Especially after a night of partying? Jackass, you thought before sticking an elbow into his side.

“Tae,” you called out in a singsong tone. “Tae wake up.”

You earned a small groan from him and knew you were getting somewhere.

“Taeeeeeeee,” You called again.

You rolled over onto him, straddling his hips and leaning into him.

“Tae wake up!”

Semi awake - you knew this because he has consciously grabbed your hips to keep you in place – he groaned again, probably unaware of who you even were.

“Wake up you loser!” You said, cupping his cheeks and shaking his head side to side a little.

“M’awake.” He replied, his grip on your hips tightening when he finally realised who you were.

He smiled, his eyes still closed.

“Hm, I always have dreams of waking up with you on top of me like this.” He murmured.

“Never thought it would happen though.” He said as he slowly opened his eyes.

You were 100% sure you’ve probably never looked worse, but Taehyung only smiled wider when he saw your face.

“I was just trying to wake you up…” You trailed off, suddenly very aware of how your crotch was literally sitting on his.

You rolled off him, leaving him to fully wake up, pulling your phone off the charger.

You remembered the message from Yoongi, unlocking your phone.

A smile crossed your face as you remembered the events from last night. You felt giddy and a little ashamed at what you had actually done last night, but the giddy feeling overwhelmed you and you pushed away the hangover blues that were threatening to loom.

9:39AM

Yoongi: hey, text me when ur awake

You grinned even harder, typing your reply.

1:13PM

You: hey sorry my lazy ass is only awake now, i stayed in Jin’s, let me call you when im home and showered T_T

“God you must have it bad.” Taehyung said from beside you.

You glared at him “I don’t know what your talking about.” You replied.

“Well if how hard your smiling at your phone is anything to go by, you must clearly have it bad for somebody.” He said.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m going back to my dorm.” You said, standing up, feeling a little dizzy.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you.” He said, winking.

You mimicked gagging as you threw your shoes on and fled Jin’s house.

*

As you stepped out of the warmth of the shower and wrapped a towel around your hair, you threw on a long t-shirt and got settled into your bed.

You pulled out your phone and opened up your recents, hitting Yoongi’s name, you watched it as it began ringing.

You became a little nervous, your mind thinking back to everything that had went on last night.

You put the phone up to ear listening to the sounds as you closed your eyes letting out a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

They sprung back open as soon as you heard the “Hello?” from the other side of the line.

“Hey.” Was all you could manage, your anxiety sky rocketing.

“Hey,” Yoongi replied. “So how bad is your hangover?” He asked.

You laughed and scoffed. “Leave me alone! I am currently dying and in serious need of unhealthy food.”

“Maybe I can help with that?” He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, like you were going to tell him no.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a smile on your face.

“I can pick up anything you want, bring it to you. We can talk.” He said.

“Oh yes please that sounds amazing!” You said, glee overwhelming you.

“Okay text me what you want and your address.”

And with that the conversation ended, you quickly jumped up to dry your hair and put on a pair of shorts.

When there was a knock on the door you leaped up, heart about to beat right through your chest.

You opened it up with a smile and Yoongi smiled back holding up food in one hand. You grabbed his hand and pulled him in.

Your dorm room was small so you didn’t really have any other choice but to sit down on your bed and pat the space beside you.

“Here is the chicken strips your majesty ordered.” He said, sitting beside you.

“Thank you so much, you have no idea how hungry I am.” You opened up the bag getting stuck in like some depraved animal.

“I didn’t know you lived in a dorm,” He said, gazing around your room.

“Yeah,” you said, munching on fries, you swallowed and began again. “I’m in my 3rd year.”

“Wow, I don’t know…I pictured you to live in some ridiculous mansion like the rest of them do.” He said with a shrug of the shoulders.

“No, believe it or not I am in no way rich, far from it actually, I met them because my mom used to clean Namjoon’s house actually, she used to bring me along. That’s how we all met.”

You weren’t  ashamed that you had significantly less money that your friends, far from it actually, your mom was a single mother who did her best for you, still was.

“Oh really? That’s actually quite surprising.” Yoongi said, his eyes skimming over your face, meeting your eyes.

“I’m not ashamed! Those rich dicks help me a lot actually, they’ve definitely made sure I didn’t I go hungry or anything, they treat me well, I’m super thankful.” You said, taking another bite of your food, it was going down a treat.

“Thank you for the food, I have some money in my coat pocket-“ You made a move to stand.

“Please, it’s on me.” Yoongi said, putting a hand on your arm to stop you getting up.

You laughed. “I probably just made it sound like I’m some sort of charity case.”

Yoongi shook his head, “Not at all, I just wanted to do something nice.”

You looked up at him again, his dark hair was falling in his eyes a little.

“Listen,” he began “About last night, I hope you don’t regret it.” He said, he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

You put the rest of your food to the side, wanting to move closer to him.

“Of course I don’t.” You reaasured him. “Do you?” You asked.

Now Yoongi looked at you once again, “No.”

“See? We both don’t regret anything. I’m glad.” You said, resting a hand on his thigh.

“I want to talk though,” He started, his eyes focused on where your hand was. “I know it’s no secret. What my job is.”

It was your turn to listen to his story and you did, you nodded, letting him continue.

“I know what I said to you the first night we met, and I won’t lie I still feel like that a little, I’m a first class scumbag right? I mean what else kind of person deals drugs.”

He said, scoffing at himself.

He kept going, he clearly wanted to get everything out on the table.

“I never wanted this, my dad’s side of the family are all like this, my mom ran off, I guess she was afraid of him, but she didn’t take me with her. I grew up with this and I never wanted to do his dirty work for him. I tried to fight him on it but what can I do? He wouldn’t let me leave. I know I’m a bad person, I try so hard not to be, I only sell to people I can trust, no addicts, no one underage, just mainly rich kids who want to party ya know? I know that doesn’t make it any better…”

You could tell he was struggling to get this out, but it needed to be done.

“My dad’s a hardass, he doesn’t even do any of the dirty work, just sits on his throne all day, keeping his hands clean. He threw me into this, his own son, said he wanted me to get a taste of what it was like out there.”

You were listening intently, afraid to speak. Him saying this made it all so real.

You knew what he was doing was wrong, but the fact that he was basically being forced to do it made your heart ache, he didn’t ask to be born into that life and running away from home when your father was that kind of man…it wasn’t an option either you guessed.

“I’m not making excuses, really I’m not, I just. I like you a lot and there is no way I can take this any further without you knowing all this. I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” He said.

You looked at him, he was still looking down unable to meet your eyes, was he really that ashamed?

A part of you wanted to tell him you didn’t want to see him again, to not let yourself get into this sort of situation, but something about him was so damn infatuating, you wanted to keep seeing him, get to know him, his hobbies, his hopes and dreams.

It had been a while since he spoke and you realised you hadn’t replied to him.

“Look I get it, I’ll just go.” And as he made a move to stand you hastily grabbed at his wrist.

“No please don’t go Yoongi. Please. This was just a lot to process, I’m sorry. But I definitely don’t want you to walk away.” You said giving him a - what you hoped looked - reassuring smile.

Yoongi smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I know it’s a lot, that’s why I don’t date or get involved with girl’s at all for that matter. But then I saw you at Namjoon’s party…I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, I’ve never felt like that before after seeing someone for the first time.”

Your heart swelled.

“I thought the same about you, I mean I tried to flirt from the damn bathroom.” You said, laughing a little.

“I know,” Yoongi replied, laughing a little too as he recalled the memory. “I said that cheesy line aswell, I felt like a damn moron for that.”

You laughed harder. “Don’t worry, I liked it.”

“You were drunk!”

“I wasn’t that drunk…well actually…” You trailed off as you recalled.

You both were laughing hard now.

You couldn’t believe how natural this all felt, being like this with him.

And that’s how the rest of your afternoon with him went, just talking about anything and everything, you were getting to know each other and it felt amazing.

So when he announced he had to go you had pouted and he gave you a quick kiss on said pout and promised to call you.

*

You were sitting with Jungkook in your local coffee shop, both stressing about assignments, but avoiding them like the idiots you were.

“This has got to be the worst week of my life, I feel like I’ve been hungover for about 5 days and this essay is due in in 2 days, how do they expect me to write five thousand words whilst trying to party? I go to college to party, not to work.” Jungkook was moaning, you weren’t really listening to him, you rolled your eyes.

“Jungkook you’re gonna flunk out if you don’t start doing some work.” You said sighing.

“They can’t flunk me,” he began with a cocky smirk, “When your dad’s on the board there are some perks, for example, doing the bare minimum and getting away with it.”

You scoffed at him, hitting his shoulder.

“And where is that attitude going to take you in life? Hmm?” You were tired of dealing with his rich boy antics.

“I don’t know, hopefully surrounded by some good pussy and parties 24/7.”

You were pretty sure if you rolled your eyes any harder they were going to fall out of your head.

“Well, unlike you, I have to actually put some effort in, I’m going to the library, it’s due on Monday.” As you got up Jungkook stood with you.

“I’ll walk you over.” He offered and you didn’t decline.

As you walked across the grass, Jungkook had his hands in his pockets.

“So does that mean you’re not going to the party tomorrow?” He asked.

You shook your head a firm no, that was the last thing on earth you needed to be doing.

“Awh no fun, I hate it when you’re not there.” He said and you gave him the side-eye.

“What are you talking about? We barely speak at parties your always too busy trying to get laid by the first brunette that walks through the door.” You stated.

“Oh come on! Not fair. Me and you know how to have a good time, you’re the only person I can count on to get as fucked up as me.” He said, smiling at you.

You hit his shoulder again. “Why are you so proud? Us embarrassing ourselves isn’t cute.”

“It is so.” He retorted.

You just shook your head, walking in silence until you were back on campus.

“Hey look… isn’t that Min Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, nodding his head in the direction he was in.

You shot your head up immediately, Jungkook was right, Yoongi was there. Standing in front of what you could only assume was his car, it was sleek, black and look like it cost more than a house.

You looked away, turning to Jungkook. “How do you know who he is?”

“A lot of people on campus know who he is, he’s infamous, you know he used to go here? He dropped out, turned into… ya know…a drug dealer.” Jungkook said lowering his voice.

“He refuses to sell to me. I’m pretty sure he’s Jin’s dealers though, I see him around sometimes.”

You widened your eyes in surprise, smacking Jungkook on the shoulder for what had to be the 15th time today.

“Ouch! What did I do now?” He said, faking hurt.

“You tried to buy from him? What are you, some sort of idiot?” You scolded.

“He’s a cool guy ______, I’ve heard the rumours about him selling to only a select few, but I thought I’d chance my arm anyway, see if he was down, he most definitely was not.” Jungkook said, laughing at the obviously funny memory.

“Jesus Christ Jungkook, you really are shameless.” You stated, distracted.

Yoongi had spotted you, he wasn’t making it obvious but he stole a few looks your way.

“Is he…looking at you ______?” Jungkook said, suddenly aware of the situation.

You immediately turned bright red.

“Oh my god, he is!” Jungkook half shouted.

“Jungkook oh my god, shut up!” You said back at him, suddenly irritated at his childishness, if anyone were to find out about you and Yoongi – well let’s just say Jungkook would’ve been dead last on your list.

“I can’t believe this…wait, how do you even know him?” He asked, he stopped walking and suddenly turned to you, going into full blown interrogation mode.

“I don’t! Well not really, I just talked to him at Namjoon’s party once, I didn’t even know who he was.” You said, it technically wasn’t a lie, you just couldn’t let Jungkook know it had went so much further than that.

“Jesus…” Jungkook breathed out, he was clearly in deep thought.

“Please stop making it sound like such a bad thing Jungkook, it isn’t that deep!”

“He’s a fucking dealer _____, do you know how dangerous that makes him!” He shot back, clearly worried for you, it would be almost endearing if you hadn’t felt such a strong need to defend Yoongi.

“You know he doesn’t even want that life? His dad forced him into it, he didn’t have a choice in the matter…” You trailed off, hoping Jungkook would be reasonable.

“How well do you know him, really? I’m sure that makes it seem like it’s all okay _____, but it doesn’t.” He wasn’t budging on his opinion.

You wanted to fight him on this, but honestly…how could you?

“You didn’t...get with him…did you?” Jungkook asked, seeing how worked up you were getting up over the situation.

“Jungkook, I swear to god, if you don’t stay out of my business, we won’t be friends anymore.” You shoved him out of your way and stormed on, you heard him call your name but you ignored him.

As you were walking it suddenly hit you, Yoongi had just witnessed your whole confrontation, he hadn’t been close enough to hear but anybody with two eyes could clearly see you and Jungkook had been arguing.

You didn’t look over at Yoongi, you put your head down and powerwalked all the way to your dorm.

As you closed your door you threw your bag on the floor in anger. Who the fuck did Jungkook think he was? He wasn’t in charge of your life you were a big girl.

You began shedding clothes, suddenly feeling too hot, you were getting far too worked up, ready to burst into tears.

Your phone was buzzing incessantly in your back pocket and you finally took it out, looking to see who it was;

Notifications:

JK: iMessage(s) (8)

Yoongi: iMessage(s) (2)

You sighed and threw your phone on the bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to read any of them, your head was hurting and you just wanted to crawl into your bed.

So you did.

It was only 2pm, but a nap couldn’t hurt, your problems would still be there when you woke up, but you could avoid them for a few hours.

*

When you woke up, it was due to the sound of your phone vibrating once again, you didn’t know how long it had been doing that exactly, but the fact it had been seeping into your dream, you figured it had been a while.

You picked it up from beside you and squinted at the bright light in your face.

Incoming call: JK

You hastily declined the call and when you did you saw the notifications on your home screen.

Notifications:

JK: iMessage(s) (14)

Missed calls (6)

Yoongi: iMessage(s) (5)

Missed Calls (1)

You groaned at the time, you’d been asleep for about 2 hours, but Jungkook obviously had a lot to say to you, you knew he had been saying everything to you out of his love for you, that he didn’t mean to be mean or hurtful. Heck you knew what kind of situation you were in and damn you and Yoongi had beat that horse to death the first time he had came over to your dorm, you were taking it slow, unaware of where you two wanted to take this, but you both knew how badly you’d wanted to keep seeing each other.

You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone, staring at the messages Jungkook had left first.

2:07PM

JK: _____ I’m sorry about how that went down, we need to talk

JK: Please don’t ignore me, i know i annoyed you

JK: i know i didnt even take the time to really hear you out

JK: You know how much i care about you

JK: How could i stand by and let you just do something like that?

JK: Wht kind of friend would that make me?

JK: please please don’t shut me out

JK: i love you sooo much don’t be mad at me :(

3:13PM

JK: i promise i wont say anything to anyone

JK: i do think you should tell Jin though

3:56PM

JK: _____ please pick up the phone

JK: im going fucking crazy sitting here

JK: i just need to know you don’t hate me :(

JK: ik im being a stalker here, but just one word to reassure me you’ll talk to me again is all I need :( ur my best friend ,,,

You sighed heavily as you scrolled through his texts, he was obviously annoyed at himself and clearly demented at the thought you may never speak to him again, he'd always had a flare for the dramatic.

You put your anger aside to type one quick reply.

4:04PM

You: I don’t hate you, I just don’t know how to talk about this with you yet, give me time.

He typed a reply right away.

JK: okay !! i understand im so glad you replied

You really needed to set things straight with Jungkook but you knew you both needed to speak to each other in person, you would in due time.

As you took another heavy sigh you clicked over to yours and Yoongi’s text conversation.

2:04PM

Yoongi: Hey is everything okay with you and your friend (jungkook I think, im not sure…)

Yoongi: I wanted to come say hi but things look a little heated, do you wnt me to come over?

3:45PM

Yoongi: im sure youre busy I don’t want to be that person who worries over not getting a reply, but I really do hope ur ok…

Yoongi: ive tried calling u sorry if that’s annoying lol, let me know ur okay?

Yoongi obviously didn’t realise your argument with Jungkook had been over him, so how could he know you couldn’t even tell him what you two had been arguing about, you didn’t want to lie to him he clearly seemed to care, but you thought the truth would be more damaging than good as you began to type back.

4:07PM

You: hey im sorry! Ur not annoying i just accidentally fell asleep, sorry if i left you to worry about me although it is very cute tho,,,, me and jungkook were just talking about one of my close girlfriends, he said he something about wanting to fuck her and i got angry…it’s the norm with me and him, nothing to worry abt :)

You read over what you typed about 5 times, hoping it was believable, you pressed send.

You lay in your bed waiting for ten minutes before you got a reply.

4:19PM

Yoongi: it didn’t look like nothing, my offer to come and see u still stands ya know… im still about campus

You heart felt heavy. You thought about how much you wanted to see him, and you knew that even though Jungkook was right he was also so very wrong.

4:21PM

You: yeah i would actually really like that…you remember where i am don’t u?

After about 10 minutes you heard a knock on your door and you bounce up from your bed, you probably look a hot mess but you don’t care.

You pulled open the door and were practically beaming at him.

“Hi.” You said.

“Hi yourself.” He replied as he walked in, you took a step back still watching him as he closed the door behind him.

You were still awe of how effortlessy beautiful he was, the dainty silver chain around his neck, his hair was getting a little too long but the way it was falling into his eyes made him even more beautiful.

“What is it?” He asked a small laugh escaping him, clearly confused by your staring.

“Nothing really…I just think you’re cute.” Your eyes widened after you finished speaking, that sounded a whole lot better in your head.

Yoongi let out an amused scoff.

“You think I’m cute?” He retorted.

He took a step towards you and you felt your heart rate began to go a lot faster.

“Well…I d-,” He was getting closer. “I don’t know – it just slipped out.” You said.

“It just slipped out?” He repeated.

You had never felt more flustered in your life and it only got worse as he finally got close enough to rest his hands on your hips and pull you close to him.

“Do you…wanna watch a movie or something?” You asked, god he really was fucking you up.

“No.” Was all Yoongi said before he leaned in and kissed you.

You welcomed his kiss immediately, leaning into his touch and wrapping your hands around his neck, teasing the ends of his hair with the tips of your fingers.

You slowly began incoporating your tongue into the kiss and let out a pleased moan when Yoongi began lightly sucking on it.

“You make the prettiest noises…” He said breathily between your kisses.

“Hmmm.” Was all you responded.

“Even better hearing them in person rather than over the phone.” He stated.

You froze a little feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the memory of Yoongi talking you through your orgasm over the phone.

“I must’ve jerked off to the memory of that about a million times, god it was so fucking hot,” You were staring wide eyes at him, you could feel the familiar heat growing between your legs.

“R-really?” Was all you could mutter as Yoongi began kissing your neck his hands reaching round to grab at your ass.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, you sounded amazing baby, did so well for me.”

Fuck.

You could feel yourself getting more flustered by the second, all you could think to do was to kiss him again.

As you both grew more heated you let Yoongi guide over to your bed and your stomach was doing flips in anticipation.

You let him lie down and crawled over ontop of him stradding his hips.

You pulled off your top leaving you in your bra and Yoongi just stared at your chest.

His hand reaching up he moved round to unhook your bra.

You shuddered at his touch and slender fingers getting to work and when he finally let your bra slide off your shoulders his hands reached up to palm at your breasts and you let out a small moan when he teased your nipple with his fingers.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmmured.

You could feel him under you, hard and heavy.

You began grinding down allowing you both to have some friction.

“Fuck, I think I could come like this.” You moaned, grinding down on him harder.

Yoongi was smirking, “Yeah why don’t you try?” He challenged.

You smiled back at him, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, you went to town.

“Fuck, I can feel how big you are Yoongi.”

You swore you felt his cock twitch at that.

“Want you so bad, so fucking bad.” You were talking yourself up now, getting yourself more and more worked up, you were so close.

“Yeah? Show me how bad you want me baby, fucking use me.” Yoongi said while he continued to tease your nipples, he sat up slightly, using his mouth to suck one into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Was all you managed before you came undone, riding yourself on Yoongi through your orgasm.

“You really weren’t lying.” Was all Yoongi could manage before you began moving your body down his.

You pulled his jeans down, revealing the outline of him through his boxers, your mouth watering.

You palmed over him, “You really are big, fuck.” You whispered, almost to yourself.

“You want to suck my dick baby?” He offered.

You nodded like a crazy woman, you wanted him so bad and him asking you something like that only spurred you on.

You pulled his briefs down letting his cock spring free.

“Jesus.” Was all you could say.

Yoongi laughed, clearly amused at your reaction to his dick.

“I mean it’s no Jesus but I appreciate the compliment.” He said.

You laughed, hard. You couldn’t believe you had his dick in your hand and he was making you laugh like an idiot.

“Okay stop or I won’t be able to do a damn thing.” You stated trying to get your breath back.

“Hm okay sorry I’ll stop.”

You just smiled as you lowered your head taking him slowly into your mouth.

You wrapped your hand around what you couldn’t put in your mouth, beginning to really get to work.

You heard Yoongi’s breath hitch and let out a small groan at your actions and mentally congratulated yourself.

“Fuck you’re good at that.” He said breathless.

“Hmmm.” You moaned around him.

“Ah fuck baby please.” He said an encouraging hand on your head willing you to take more of him in your mouth.

So you did just that, you took more of him, he hit the back of your throat and as you tried to suppress your gag reflex Yoongi clearly appreciated what you were doing.

He moans. And oh god it is such a sexy noise you want to just start touching yourself then and there, you were insatiable.

After a few more minutes your jaw was beginning to ache but you never faltered wanting to finish the job, it’s Yoongi who stops you.

“Babe stop, I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna be inside you.” He stated and you felt yourself suddenly become nervous, looking up at him you could see his fucked out expression and it only turned you on more, you pushed your nerves to the side; you trusted him, and you’d wanted him this way from the moment you set your eyes on him.

“Do you have a condom?” Yoongi asked as you sat up to remove your skirt and underwear.

You turned to him to see him taking his shirt off, only to pause when you remembered you couldn’t even remember the last time you purchased condoms.

“Shit…No actually, I don’t.” You said.

Yoongi looked at you laughing a little in disbelief.

“No it’s okay, I’m clean and I’m on the pill!” You said as you straddled him, you weren’t going to let this ruin your first time with Yoongi.

“I’m clean too, to be honest it’s actually been a while-“

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” You interrupted him, “you still want to do this then?”

You saw his cock twitch at your teasing and you laughed a little only to gasp in shock as he grabbed you by the hips and all of a sudden you were underneath him.

“Of course I want to do this.” He said into your ear.

“Then do it, fuck me Yoongi, please.” You could hear the neediness in your voice but you didn’t care.

Yoongi buried his head into the crook of you neck and let out a groan of frustration before pulling away and looking at you, he gave you a small kiss before muttering something that sounded something like ‘what are you doing to me?’

Yoongi lined up at your entrance and you were so wet the tip slid in with ease.

You let out a small whine as the initial feeling, you couldn’t believe this was finally happening.

“Baby jesus chirst…you are so wet…so tight…fuck you feel amazing.” He said.

You merely nodded in agreement, you didn’t trust yourself to speak, he was all in the way in you now and you had to bite your lip to hold back a scream.

“Please…move…Yoongi.” You managed.

And with that Yoongi started thrusting into you, hard.

You were moaning loudly completely lost in the pleasure.

“Baby you sound so pretty, keep moaning like that, you want me to fuck you harder?” he asked.

He was breathing heavily but when you gave him a small yes he complied, fucking into you at an unbelievable pace, you body started moving a little up the bed but Yoongi grabbed you by the hips to keep you in place.

“Yoongi just like that oh my god just like that.” You moaned.

Yoongi reached his hand down to rub at your clit and you jerked at the bolt of pleasure, it was almost too much. Almost.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you like this…” Yoongi murmured, “underneath me moaning like this.”

You smiled “Really? Did you get off to the thought of this a lot?” You asked teasingly.

“Fuck more than I care to admit.” He breathed out.

You lifted your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He was hitting you deeper now and his relentless attack on your clit was only causing you to reach your end quicker, you put your face in the crook of him neck and let out a loud whine.

“Baby are you close already?”

Yoongi had slowed now but he was rubbing your clit faster and you could feel you orgasm about to wash over you.

“Yes – fuck – I’m gonna come.” You said.

Yoongi was panting heavy, picking up his pace again, he could feel you clenching around him and you knew he was just as close as you.

“Come for me please baby.” And with a few final strokes of your clit your orgasm hit you like a train.

You were lost in yourself, lost in your orgasm you took a moment to come back down to earth you put your hands on Yoongi’s shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist encouraging him to come.

“Baby please come, please fill me up.” You said in your fucked out moan.

And he did, spilling inside you the feeling of him filling you up was so blissful you moaned again.

“Oh fuck,” Yoongi whispered you almost didn’t hear him,  but the way he said those words just confirmed he had enjoyed himself just as much as you had.

When he pulled out of you you were both still breathing heavy the both of you so fucked out you couldn’t even speak yet, Yoongi rolled over to lay beside you.

After a minute of silence Yoongi finally spoke.

“That was-“

“Amazing.” You finished.

Yoongi laughed, leaning over to kiss you, a small affectionate peck that left you smiling like an idiot.

“Let me get you a cloth.” Yoongi offered, getting off the bed he pulled back on his underwear and walked into your small en-suite.

You could feel Yoongi’s cum seeping out of you and as gross as it was it only caused you to smile knowing what had just happened.

“Here.” Yoongi said, as he walked back out handing you the cloth, it was hot and you appreciated the fact he had taken the time to do that for you, it was sweet.

“Thank you.” You said sitting up to clean yourself.

You climbed off your bed aswell, throwing on Yoongi’s shirt to cover yourself up.

“Looks good on you.” Yoongi said.

You scoffed, “I’m gonna shower I’m sure I look like a mess…give me a minute?”

“Yeah no problem –” Yoongi was muttering as he reached for his phone to check it, after a second he was bouncing up.

“Actually I’m sorry I have to go – god I really don’t want to be that guy that just leaves right after…” He trailed off, his eyes wondering over your body until you realised he was looking at his own shirt on your body.

You nodded trying not to show your upset at the events that were unfolding in front of you.

You hastily reached for your dressing gown to cover up your naked form as you pulled his shirt up over your head.

“______ please don’t get quiet on me like that, you do know I care about you and I would not be leaving unless this wasn’t an emergency, right?” He said as he pulled on his shoes and stood up.

He made his way back over to you and took both your hands in his, encouraging you to look up at him.

“I’m sorry, I really am, please don’t be upset, please tell me you understand.”

It took everything in you to nod and give him a small smile.

“I’m fine Yoongi, go, I understand.” You lied.

He took another 10 seconds to further examine your face to make sure you weren’t upset, you were definitely giving him a convincing enough expression.

He gave you a small nod before grabbing his keys and phone giving you a small peck on the lips and leaving out the door.

You let out a huge sigh, you felt tired again.

*

You woke up the next morning and let out a frustrated groan as you remembered yesterdays events.

After Yoongi had left you stood there for a minute before you let the shame wash over you, you felt like you had just been used for a quick fuck, you wanted to believe Yoongi wasn’t like that but it was hard not to when he was already out the door even as his cum was still inside you.

You had showered for a long time, trying to rid yourself of the negative thoughts that were overwhelming you.

Yoongi wasn’t like that, he had shared himself with you, told you details of his private life and in turn had listened to your story as well, but was this a regular occurrence with him?

Was the time that you were able to spend together going to be far and few between?

You decided the best thing for you was to simply distract yourself, so as you sat on your bed you opened up your laptop to get started on the assignment you had due, you decided to switch off your phone, you knew if you didn’t you would be checking it every 5 minutes waiting on a text from a certain someone.

A few hours passed as you really began getting into your work you figured you’d be able to get it finished by tomorrow, but a sharp knock on your door made you jump out of your skin.

“_____ , open up please.” You heard a muffled voice come from behind the door.

It was Jungkook.

You took a deep breath, you hadn’t been mentally ready to see him for a while, but here he was.

You stood up off your bed, walk to the door you hesitantly opened it just a crack as you peered out to him.

He looked good as usual, black jeans, black cap and that damn black leather jacket. He immediately looked at you as you poked your head through the gap in the door.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You asked, you really weren’t in the mood to get lectured right now.

“What am I, some stranger? Let me in and we can talk.” He said moving closer to the door.

“Jungkook – I’m really not in the mood right now.” You said.

He pushed the door open anyway his strength no match for you.

“What are you deaf now?! I don’t wanna talk Jungkook.” You stood back from him as he closed the door behind him, he really did look huge in your small dorm room.

“Please just let us talk this out, you know I hate fighting with you, the other guys… I will freeze their asses out when they’re mad at me I don’t care…but with you.” Jungkook looked at you with those bigs eyes and you let out a huge sigh, you had a soft spot for him.

“Okay, let’s talk.” You said with a heavy heart, you weren’t ready for the dose of reality Jungkook was going to hit you with.

He took a seat on your bed, your dorm room didn’t even have a desk so everything had to happen on your bed, you cringed a little when you realised you hadn’t even washed your sheets since you and Yoongi had had sex on them.

You took a seat beside him folding your legs up underneath yourself.

“You wanna tell me how this happened?” Jungkook said, you got the vibes he wanted everything out on the table.

“I wasn’t lying yesterday. I met him at Namjoon’s house party the other week. He was there because you all cried in Jin’s face about getting coke.” You said, you were definitely on the defence.

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows a little, you know he could tell you were going to be snarky about this but he had the patience of a god when it came to you, lord knows you could be difficult.

“Okay…” Jungkook began slowly, “So you two just…what?”

You rolled your eyes. “Jungkook, I saw him at Namjoon’s party I flirted with him even after I found out who he was, I saw him at Jin’s again and he kissed me…he actually was here yesterday…” You didn’t know what else to say, how did you tell your best friend you were fucking a drug dealer, it wasn’t exactly something you just said, but you knew Jungkook was smart enough to already know what you were saying.

“What?! You mean you two have already…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, he trailed off looking like he was deep in thought. “Aren’t you moving a little to fast here _____? I mean if you only met him at Namjoon’s party then –" You took second to blink at Jungkook before hitting his shoulder.

“Excuse me?! You fuck the first girl you see at any any party within an hour of meeting her and you’re going to lecture me about whoring it out?!” You weren't really that angry more, just in shock that Jungkook had actually said something like that to you.

Jungkook laughed a little at your reaction “I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry I guess it’s just because of who he is…you have to know this is a bad idea right?” He was looking at you a lot more serious now.

You nodded solemly, “I know Jungkook, fuck believe me, we both know.”

“But…let me guess, he’s not entirely what I’m picturing? Cause I know damn well you wouldn’t let get this worked up over someone if you didn’t like them a lot.” He said, resting a comforting hand on your knee.

Sometimes you forgot how attentive Jungkook was, a lot of your relationship was joking around with each other, so when shit got serious you were reminded of the fact that he actually cared about you a lot and that he actually knew you pretty well.

“Yeah, it’s new but…I like him a lot, although I’m not even sure if the feelings are one hundred percent reciprocated. Maybe it’s just self deprecation thinking that… I don’t know it’s been so long since I’ve wanted to see someone more than once. I forgot how hard this shit is.” You scoffed out a laugh, you were pretty sure you sounded stupid but you weren’t sure how to talk about this.

“Please, are you kidding me? If the feelings aren’t reciprocated then he is a total dumbass because any guy would be so lucky to have you.” Jungkook said.

You didn’t know where to look, Jungkook speaking like this to you felt foreign.

“I know that was cheesy,” Jungkook laughed a little. “But it’s true, I mean look at Taehyung, he embarrasses himself all the time trying to get you to go out with him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“All Taehyung wants is a quick fuck.” You deadpanned.

Jungkook scoffed “Are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure Tae’s been in love with you from the moment he set his eyes on you, remember when he gave you his favourite toy to play with and we all were in shock cause it was the first time we’d seen him share anything.”

You laughed at the memory, but Jungkook had no idea what he was talking about, Taehyung only saw you as a friend and possibly another notch on his belt.

“Listen, what I’m trying to say is _____ at the end of the day this is your choice obviously but please be careful, please, I can look out for you but I don’t think I stand a chance against a drug lord’s crew if it came down to that.”

You looked at him in shock. “Jungkook don’t say shit like that oh my god! Nothing like that would happen!”

You shivered at the thought for a second, thinking about how you only saw Yoongi and not his world, it probably was a dangerous as Jungkook was imagining.

Jungkook put his hands up in defence. “I’m sorry okay, I’m just going to be worrying like crazy from now on, you know that right? Let me be the overbearing overprotective friend please.”

You let out a heavy sigh chosing to not say anything for a moment as you got lost in your own head.

“______, I respect your choices always. But please be careful.”

You nodded, “Thank you Jungkook, and you know I will.”

“Listen I gotta go, but I’ll text you okay?” Jungkook said as he stood up.

You stood up with him following him to the door.

He leaned in and gave you a hug, it was warm and you felt safe in his arms for the short moment they were around you. You really did have great friends you thought. With a quick goodbye Jungkook left you alone with your thoughts.

[marauder-misprint]

Hi! I loved honeymoon phase could you please please please make a second part?

Hi! I'm so glad you liked Honeymoon Phase ❤︎ I wasn't sure if I was ever going to do part 2 but here we are! Hope you enjoy ❤︎

Second chances

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.5k words

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, steps toward forgiveness

You can feel it everywhere you go. Remus’ eyes on you. 

It had happened so quickly. You went from having Remus glued to your side to actively avoiding him. You were right when you ended things: you have nothing to say to him. 

Your friends had mixed reactions to the reasoning behind the breakup. Some said they were glad to have their friend back and that it was good to get out of a relationship where your partner is too controlling. Others said that you were too hasty and should have been more firm in your boundaries. But no matter how they felt about it, they stood by you. They made a habit of purposely standing between you and Remus and helping you disappear from sight when it looked like he was going to attempt to talk to you. 

The biggest issue you have is finding a new place to study. You can’t just pick a new table in the library; Remus would just move to that table. None of your friends liked studying in the library either. You refuse to study in your dorm and the common is always too busy and distracting. So you hole up in whichever empty alcove or window seat that you can find. In a desperate attempt to just be away from people, you even studied in the bell tower once. And then you immediately went back to the alcoves. 

Not that you noticed, but remorse and guilt filled Remus to the brim. Once the full moon passed and he could think like himself again, he could feel the true weight of how he had acted. He hated that he had been that possessive of you. And what made him feel worse? You won’t let him near you, you won’t look at him, you won’t allow him to talk to you. He knows he deserves it, but that doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. 

And all he wants to do is apologize. He wouldn’t mind if you’d give him a second chance, even if it was just a second chance at friendship. But he needs to apologize to you to be able to live with himself. 

As time passes, your friends stop guarding you as diligently. You’ve told them you’re good, that you’re fine. You can handle it if he approaches you, not that you’ll give him the time of day if he does. But you still avoid the library as much as you can since you know he’ll be there and you’re just not ready for that step yet. 

Finding a place to work on homework tonight is being particularly difficult. All your new spots were taken and you’re about to accept defeat and study in your dorm. But there’s one last spot: the Astronomy Tower. You figure there’s no way that the tower is empty when everywhere is full. The Astronomy Tower, when not being used for class, was a nice place to relax and look out over castle grounds. 

To your absolute delight, it’s empty. You sigh a breath of relief and get settled. It’s peaceful. Comfortable. You could sit up here alone for hours. Which is what you end up doing, for longer than you originally intended. 

You don’t recall falling asleep, but you must have. It’s dark out and there’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. You rub the sleep out of your eyes. The glint of a Prefect badge catches your eye and you groan. You had just been trying to study and now you’re surely getting detention or losing house points. 

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be out right now.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut again. You forgot that Remus was a Prefect. And of course, it was just your luck that he’d be the one to find you on the one night you’re accidentally out past curfew. 

“Come on, you should get to bed.” 

Nope. This was real. Not a dream. Great. 

“Didn’t realize I fell asleep…” you mutter as you open your eyes again and begin to gather your things that are still splayed out around you.

He chuckles softly. “History tends to be a great sedative.” 

You don’t say anything for a little bit. You’re more focused on collecting your things so you can disappear into your dorm. You’d rather be anywhere but here right now. Once you have everything, you stand up and dust yourself off. You don’t look at Remus. Like always, you can feel his eyes on you.

“So what’s the damage? Fifteen points? Detention?” you ask quietly.

“You fell asleep doing homework. I’m not taking points for that,” he says. “I just need to walk you back to your common room.” 

You nod and head toward the stairs. You know you should be thanking Remus for going easy on you, but you can feel that it’s going to be an awkward walk. You’re not going to feed the awkwardness. 

Remus, however, does not get that memo. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he says once you descend the first flight of stairs. 

“It’s whatever,” you say flatly. “I’ve moved past it, you’ve moved past it. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

Remus frowns and hesitantly reaches out for your arm. His fingers brush your bicep but he doesn’t grab you. You freeze at his touch.

“Who said I moved past it?” he whispers. 

“I… I just assumed, sorry. You stopped trying to talk to me at every turn…” 

All Remus wants at this moment is for you to look at him. You are doing everything in your power to look at anything but him. You’ve never found the handrail so interesting. 

“I got the message that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I don’t.” 

“But I need to apologize. I don’t know what came over me.” A lie, but that wasn’t something he could tell you. At least, not now. “I shouldn’t have treated you that way, like a possession. Something that I didn’t have to share. You were my longest relationship.”

“Take it as a lesson then. You have to be patient with your girlfriends and let them have time with their friends.” You pause and sigh. “That’s all I wanted. A few moments with my friends because I had been giving you all my time. It wasn’t fair that you got to keep yours while mine faded into the background, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Remus hangs his head. He feels the possibility of being friends again slipping through his fingers. Then, for the first time of the night, you look at him. His stance, his posture, is that of a remorseful man. You sigh again, louder this time, and lean against the wall. When Remus looks at you, he has the most pitiful expression on his face. 

“So what do you want?” you ask bluntly.

“Huh?”

“I’m not dumb. You’re letting me off easy for being out past curfew and you’ve given me an apology for something that couldn’t gone unapologized for.”

He runs a hand through his hair nervously. 

“I was… Fuck, Merlin knows I don’t deserve it, but maybe, I was hoping you’d have it in you to give me a second chance?” His words come out slowly and unsure before he starts to ramble. “Like I said, I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m also not over you. I really, really like you and I want a do-over. I won’t mess it up this time, I promise. I’d promise you the world. I swear on anything you want me to that I won’t mess it up. I’ll treat you better. We’ll hang out with your friends. You’ll hang out with your friends without me. Because, fuck, I really like you and I didn’t realize how much until-”

You put your hand over his mouth.

“Just… shut up for a second.” You hold your hand over his mouth for another second until he nods. “You want a second chance?”

He nods again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him to talk just yet. 

“You’re aware that you’re the reason I was up here in the first place?” He shakes his head. “Can’t risk running into you in the library. And I needed a place to study.”

Remus doesn’t know how to respond so he doesn’t do anything. Then you start walking down the next flight of stairs. 

“Where are you going?” he asks, quickly moving to follow you.

“I’m supposed to be being escorted to my common room, remember?” 

“Okay, but where does that leave us?” 

“Remus, there’s no us. If you want a second chance at that, you’re going to have to give me more time. But I’m going to study in the library. Please don’t sit at whatever table I’m at. I’ll sit at yours when I’m ready. And, I guess, we can go from there. Okay?”

“Okay.” 

The rest of the walk to your common room is quiet. The chance at friendship isn’t gone. There is a chance if Remus continues to give you the space that you need. He needs to allow you time to forgive him. Space and time. Remus can give you that. If it yields the possibility of getting you back, Remus will give you all the space and time you need. He will be patient with you, as he’s promised. 

Tags: @navs-bhat, @yearninglustfully, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @bmyva1entine

[coziestandhoziest]

I’ve been lurking in the stancest tag for months now and I’ve devoured every little bit of content all you amazing people that use this tag put out, but I’ve been too shy to interact much. I woke up last night in a cold sweat with a very specific idea in my brain. But it was like 3 am and a bitch was tired so I just typed a prompt in my notes app and went back to sleep. Woke up this morning and all the note said was “Stancest, love at first sight but like with dark ford.”

anyways, I humbly offer this little thing I wrote about an unhinged older ford kind of kidnapping a younger alternate dimension stan. CW: idk…blood, murder, implied SA/sex work, and my very thinly veiled daddy kink (im sorry)

When Ford first lays eyes on the 20 year old Stanley of dimension 2x’59, his little brother is shaking and has blood splatters across his bruised face. The knees of his grey sweats are soaking up the blood leaking out of the two goons Ford has just shot dead. Stanley’s eyes are wide, his breaths are fast and shallow. He has a split lip and his hair is a greasy, tangled mess.

He’s the most beautiful thing Ford has ever seen. 

Stanley flinches and starts to shuffle back when Ford takes a step towards him. Ford pauses to remove his goggles, lowers his scarf, holds up his six fingered hand. And when Stanley freezes and looks into his eyes with a glimmer of recognition … Ford’s heart swells with love. 

“…Sixer?” Stanley breathes. 

Ford smiles.

-

This Stanley always starts out shy in bed. Ford needs to wring an orgasm or two out of him before he starts begging Ford for what he really wants. It’d be endearing if it didn’t paint a dark picture of Stanley’s mental state after his time on the streets. He’d been nervous and twitchy the first time Ford took him to bed. So unlike the Stanley in Ford’s memories, none of his confident smirks or gentle teasing. He’d avoided eye contact at the start and tried to muffle his moans by biting his fists until he drew blood. It had made Ford seethe. Made him regret giving Rico and his lackeys quick deaths. But he’d swallowed down his rage and had been so, so gentle with his sweet boy.  He’d taken his time breaking him down slowly and sweetly. By the end, Stanley had been left a drooling, cum drunk mess. No thoughts in his pleasure hazed mind, only able to mouth out a litany of soft Ford…Ford…Fords. It was a sweet memory. 

“Ahh…Mmh…Ahn!”

But right now, Ford is kneeling between Stanley’s trembling thighs. He’s three fingers deep in his baby brother and he’s just finished pushing him over the edge for the second time. He’s running a soothing hand along Stanley’s hip, debating whether he should coax out a third orgasm when Stanley grabs the hand in his hip, clamps his thighs  tight around Ford’s waist and wails. Ford loves when he gets loud. 

His pretty boy is the very picture of debauchery. His eyes are glazed with pleasure, tears cling to his lashes, and his head is tilted back as if the sensations are too much to bear. 

“Please, puh-lease, Sixer! I need it!” 

Ford watches Lee’s perfect pink lips move, transfixed. Then the meaning of the words hit him and a low, wrecked groan tears from his throat. He descends upon his brother, crashes his lips against his. He coaxes Lee’s mouth open and earns another soft moan when he sucks on his tongue. A string of saliva connects their lips when they separate. He watches it break when Stanley licks his lips. 

“My sweet boy. Do you think you’re ready for me?” 

More little whimpers. Stanley wraps his arms around Ford’s neck and brings him down so their foreheads rest together. 

“Yeah. Please, Ford…I-“ he’s trembling, looking right into Ford’s eyes. Ford can feel his breaths puffing against his lips when he breathes out,”I missed you so much.” 

Oh. 

He’s perfect. His little darling is perfect. Ford is in love.  He shudders as he guides himself to his brother’s soft, wet hole. Stanley whines and tries to  grind his hips up to meet him. Ford settles a hand on him and stills his hips. 

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you, slow.” 

Stanley shakes his head and sobs out, “N-no, please Sixer, give me everything! I missed you!” 

And Ford can’t find it in himself to deny his baby any longer. He slams home and Stanley screams out his pleasure. It’s the sweetest sound Ford’s ever heard. He starts a fast, punishing rhythm making sure to aim straight for Lee’s prostate with each thrust. He knows he’s not going to last long. 

Stanley’s face is twisted with pleasure. He’s making throaty little groans with each thrust but he makes no move to reach for his own cock. He’s holding onto Ford so tightly, not allowing even a millimetre of space between them. Clutching him close like he wants to fuse them both together. Like he wants his twin to take up residence in his chest, curled up right by his heart. Ford knows. He wants the same thing for Stanley. 

When he feels his own orgasm approaching, Ford reaches between them and strokes his twin to completion. He watches his baby’s face closely as it contorts in pure ecstasy, lips trembling around a silent cry, the sound stolen by the force of his pleasure. 

Ford follows his brother over the edge and his pleasure comes from the sweet relief of holding his brother after years through the portal. It comes from finally being able to truly revel in his triumph over Bill Cipher. It comes from the knowledge that when the universe tried to fuck him over and cheat him out of his well-earned prize, he’d taken it by force because he was Stanford Pines and he would take what he was owed, one way or another. A low groan shudders past his clenched jaws as the pleasure coils tight in his belly then shatters through him in violent, euphoric waves. Victory tastes so sweet.

He collapses beside his brother and when he can catch his breath, he gathers Lee in his arms, drops a tender kiss to his head. He presses his fingers into the marks he’s left on his little brother’s hip. He can hear the smile in Stanley’s voice when he whispers Ford’s name. Ford’s heart roars in triumph. 

-

It’s early in the afternoon and they’ve gone out exploring the forests of Gravity Falls at Ford’s insistence because, “some fresh air will do you good, Stanley.” 

Stan smiles and dutifully follows his brother as he leads him confidently through the darker areas of the forest. He tries his best to listen and follow along with Ford’s constant chatter as he points out the unusual fauna and flora native to this strange little town. At some point there’s a lull in the conversation and Stan takes the opportunity to gaze around the small clearing.

The unnatural, undulating movement of a glowing blue flower catches Stan’s eye and he wanders over to take a closer look. He casts one last glance at Ford and he can’t help the fond grin that steals across his face when he sees his brother crouched down in front of an odd coloured mushroom, sketching away in his journal. He takes note of the beginnings of greying hair near Ford’s temple and all of a sudden… he’s overcome by a strong sense of jamais vu. His heart stutters in his chest and he whips around to stare at the weird blue flower. It moves through the air as if it were underwater and any other time Stan would find it strangely beautiful. Unfortunately, at this very moment he’s trying to calm his racing heart and keep his breaths even and quiet. Most of all, he tries desperately not to focus on the feeling of his brother’s face (his twin’s face) being almost familiar but not quite right. And he especially does not think about how he’s never going to see his Sixer’s face again. Nope. Not thinking about it. He violently forces every last bit of his attention to focus on the rhythmic movement of the underwater-land flower and allows it to lull him into a feeling of weightlessness, until the world beyond it starts to blur. His heart rate finally begins to slow.

Stan startles when he feels a hand gently tilt his face up and he looks up at his brother. His heart squeezes when he sees the concerned frown on Ford’s face. Because he loves this familiar stranger. He knows he does. 

“Stanley?” Ford asks, as he runs a thumb along Stan’s bottom lip. “I called your name several times, darling. Is something wrong?”

Stanley shakes his head, “No, ‘m sorry. Got distracted, didn’t hear ya callin’ me.”

Ford’s eyes narrow and he stares deep into Stan’s eyes. He lets the silence drag on for a few long seconds before his face breaks into a soft, fond smile.

“Come along then, love. We still have much more to see.” 

Stanley breathes in. Breathes out. Then he turns and gives his brother his most reassuring smile.

“Lead the way, Sixer.”

He does his best to convince himself that this is enough.

[sdmnpact]

Would you write a Harry fic with friends to lovers after a 'would you rather' game played among friends?

Would You Rather.

Wroetoshaw x Reader ff

~~~

"Come on Y/n! It'll be just for an hour or two!" Ethan pleaded at you. He and Faith were hosting a little get together with some close friends and you being one of Ethan's best friends, well he just had to invite you. Although you love Ethan and Faith to bits and pieces, you weren't feeling up for a night out, you just wanted to sleep.

"I'm so tired though..." You whined in a cute little voice you use against Ethan to get what you want. "No, come over! I'll send an uber to your flat." He said. You tried arguing but he was relentless. You folded and said yes. He cheered excitedly and you hung up. You sighed before standing up off your bed and began getting ready.

>>>

You arrived at Ethan and Faith's house to see a few familiar faces. You already met the sidemen but you don't regularly hang out with them. You only know a couple of his and Faith's other friends as well. You made your way further into the place, looking around, there were more people here than you expected.

You looked around for Ethan but ran into Josh and Freya instead. "Oh my god, hey Y/n! It's been a minute since we've seen you! We need to hang out more often!" Freya said wrapping an arm around you. "Hey guys, of course! I've been here and there.. um have you seen Ethan?" You asked as she released you. You side hugged Josh, greeting him as well. "Oh yeah, last I've seen he was in the kitchen with Harry and George." Josh explained.

You thanked him and made your way towards the kitchen. You walked into the kitchen and saw only Harry and Ethan talking while holding beer bottles. "Oh hey guys." You said opening the fridge and pulling out a beer for yourself.

"Y/N! You made it! I'm so glad you're here!" Ethan said with a slightly slurred speech showing he's been drinking for a while now. You chuckled at him as you opened your bottle. "Yeah, only here for an hour!" You emphasized pointing at him, taking a swig of your drink. You looked towards Harry to see his eyes on you already. Once you noticed, he quickly looked away.

"Hey bog, How've you been?" You asked leaning on the counter. "Fine, just here." He responded awkwardly making you furrow your eyebrows. He's one of the only other sidemen that you're somewhat close to beside Ethan. Usually, you two are pretty comfortable with each other but you noticed that he was slightly off tonight. You chose to ignore it and nursed your beverage.

The night went on, you hung out with Ethan and Harry for a few minutes making small talk but after a while you were in desperate need of some girl talk so you went off to find literally any girl you knew.

You stumbled upon Faith talking with Talia, Freya, and Gee. You creeped up behind her startling her slightly as you placed a hand on her back. "Oh my god! Oh Y/n! I've been looking for you!! I have some hot tea for you!" Faith said excitedly grabbing your hands. "Ethan told me that Harry fancies you." She said whispering the last part. You eyes went wide as you couldn't believe the words that just left her mouth.

"No way- when did he say that because I wouldn't believe a word that comes out of his mouth tonight." You shriek taking a large chug of your beer. He can't fancy you. You two are just good friends.

"He told me earlier in the afternoon. Y/n, I think Harry's been feeling this type of way for a while now. Although, I don't think much can be done since Ethan won't let you date him." Her words left you confused. What would Ethan have to do with your dating life?

"What do you mean?"

"He's done it before and he would definitely be hesitant to let you near Harry like that." She said. Now you were very confused.

"When?" You asked.

"Remember John? That fellow who you met once at our last party?" You nodded. "Well, he asked about you to Ethan and wanted to know if you were single which Ethan told him that you had a boyfriend, which you in fact did not."

John? You were absolutely smitten with that guy! You met him at their party and you two spent the entire night dancing, laughing, and just talking about anything. You really fancied him and thought he fancied you. You gave him your number and told him to call, yet he never did.

You wondered why he never called. You thought you two hit it off well. Now you've learned that one of your best friends basically cockblocked you. You were fuming, to say the least. You couldn't believe he did that. Why would he even do that in the first place? You're definitely going to have a long conversation about this with Ethan later. Your mind was spiraling with these thoughts when a familiar giddy, slightly slurred voice came over.

"Hey! Do you lot wanna play would you rather?" Ethan asked leaning on Harry for support. Both their cheeks were flushed but Harry didn't seem that drunk. Maybe his cheeks were flushed for a different reason?

"Oh? Sounds fun!" Freya cheered. You sighed deeply as the group made their way towards the dining room. The whole party wasn't joining you guys, it was just the small group of friends you had thought would have made up the party.

You sat directly across from Harry. He smiled at you as you made eye contact. You have to admit, you did find him especially attractive. He was funny, charming, and always so nice to you. Your attention was drawn to Ethan who sat at the end of the table as he began talking.

"Okay! We'll spin this bottle for turns." He said pulling out an empty beer bottle, placing it in the center of the table. "I'll go first!" He cheered spinning the bottle. You all watched in anticipation as the bottle spun around slowly coming to a stop in front of Josh. "Oooh yay!" He laughed awkwardly.

"Alright would you rather eat a dog or get eaten by a dog?" Ethan asked as you all laughed at the ridiculous question. "What is this question!?" Josh shrieked laughing. "Um I guess I would eat a dog?" He said unsure of his answer as he furrowed his eyebrows together. "I couldn't think of a good question on the spot." Ethan admitted as you laughed at his words.

"Okay now you spin!" He said as Josh reached for the bottle. You watched it spin again as it landed on Faith. "Okay, would you rather... be able to reverse time or speed it up?"

"Can we stop with these childish questions!? How about we ask some raunchier ones?" Talia suggested as everyone seemed to make noises in agreement. "Okay okay- would you rather watch a couple kiss for five minutes straight or watch a graphic sex scene with your parents?" Josh said through a fit of laughter. "Eww Josh. Um, if I had to choose, I would rather watch some couple kiss for five minutes." She said taking a sip from her wine glass. She grabbed the bottle and spun. You watched as it went around a couple times, slowing down in pace, landing straight on you.

"Ooo fun! Okay Y/n, would you rather... kiss Harry or would you rather kiss your celebrity crush?" She said giving you a little wink. Your eyes widen as those words left her mouth. You looked over at Harry to see his cheeks and ears as red as a tomato. He looked at you with anticipation fiddling with his fingers evidently nervous about your choice.

You looked towards Ethan and saw his expression change from carefree to worried. "I think, I would rather kiss Harry." You said shyly, a smile falling upon your lips. You watched as Harry's shoulders fell with relief. 'Ooo' noises filled the room as all the blood rushed towards your cheeks. You chuckled at that and told them to knock it off. Harry shot you a cheeky smile as you felt your heart begin to flutter.

You guys played a few more rounds with the bottle eventually landing on Harry. His question was a spicy one asking about whether he would would rather give or receive head. Since so much more time had passed, both of you were slightly drunker and with this drunken filled confidence, he looked you dead in the eyes and said 'I would rather give head.' You felt yourself melt at those words and the way he looked into your eyes.

Everyone 'ooo'd again like children with Faith sending you a smirk and Ethan sending Harry daggers. You rolled your eyes at Ethan and turned your attention back to the game.

As the night continued, you all eventually stopped playing and just mingled about. You were currently sat on the couch listening to some random conversation just vibing when Harry came over and sat next to you.

"Hey Y/n, you enjoying yourself?" he asked taking a swig of his beer. You nodded your head doing the same. "You wanna, go for a walk?" He asked hoping you'd say yes. You agreed and the two of you made your way outside. It was the country, so there was just a long stretch of road to walk down which was perfect for two people who basically couldn't walk straight.

You two clung onto each other for support as you made your way down the pathway to the road. "Where you lot going?" You heard from the doorway. You turned to face Ethan holding the door open. "Just for a walk, we'll be back soon." You said. "Well- be careful, it's dark out here!" He urged and you nodded pulling your phone out and turning on the flashlight. "Happy?" You asked waving the light at him. He groaned and went back inside.

You took a step forward when the door opened again. "You better take care of her Bog." Ethan warned Harry. "Of course mate, we'll just be here." Harry responded as Ethan gave him an unsure look and went back inside.

You two made your way down the road walking slowly and carefully. "So, how've you been lately. I haven't seen much of you." He began. "Yeah, I've been pretty busy." You replied. "Well, I was hoping to see you tonight actually." He said nervously. You stopped in your tracks causing him to almost stumble over. You grabbed him making sure he wouldn't fall.

"Really? Why?" You asked curiously. "I don't know, I just wanted to see you." He said with a small chuckle. "Well you didn't want to just see me for no reason..." You trailed off. He reached for your hand. "I think I like you." He finally blurted out. "I think I like you and have for a while. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to get Ethan upset." He explained. "Ethan has nothing to do with anything." You said, upset that this was coming up again.

"I told him I thought you were cute and he did not like that at all. But I don't care anymore, I see you around and I want to be with you. You're so funny and sweet and smart and so, so beautiful." He said looking down slightly embarrassed that he expressed himself so much.

"You really think all that about me?" You asked feeling a warmth inside you. "Yeah. I know we haven't gotten to know each other well but every time we're together, we have the best time and you're just so down to earth, always making funny jokes or just being amazing." He said looking into your eyes. The moonlight shimmered down on you two bringing a sparkle to your eyes that made him swoon.

"Well, if I'm being honest here. You are really great to be around too. You always have the funniest things to say and I love your random airplane disaster facts." You chuckled remembering all the random times he would bring up his odd interest. "I'm glad you like 'em. Everyone always tells me I'm annoying about it." He said with a breathy laugh.

"Not to me." You said taking a step closer, your faces inches apart from one another. "Kiss me." You said pulling on his shirt bringing your bodies even closer. He placed a hand on your chin and leaned forward, closing the gap between you, placing his soft lips upon yours.

It felt like fireworks were going off with the touch of his lips on yours. He placed a hand on your lower back bringing you closer as if the nonexistent gap between you was still too far. He's been dreaming about this for weeks. You clouded his mind for a while now and he could no longer handle being apart from you.

This 'forbidden' romance only made him lust for you more and tonight he finally decided to make you his, if you'd have him.

He pulled away as you two just laughed at the sudden turn this night took. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" He asked making sure to properly make you his. "I'd love to." You responded.

The two of you continued your walk down the moonlit road, hand in hand. You spoke of anything and everything desperately hoping this night would never end. Eventually, you two made your way back towards the house.

You two were out there for so long that basically everyone had left and it was only Josh, Freya, and Gee that were there helping clean up. Ethan rushed up to you with a worried expression. "Why were you guys out there for so long? You've been gone for three hours!" He exclaimed making your eyes go wide. You didn't realize how much time had passed.

"It didn't seem like three hours." You replied nonchalantly throwing a smile at Harry as he squeezed your hand lightly. "What's this about?" Ethan asked pointing towards your interlocked hands. "I like her mate. I told you I did and I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I think she likes me too." Harry told him looking at you for reassurance. "I do, I really do." You said cheerfully wrapping your arm around his.

"You two like each other then?" Ethan questioned as both of you nodded. "Well, you know what. Okay then, I'm happy for the two of you." He said with a smile hugging both of you. You looked over his shoulder to see Faith giving you, two thumbs up with a huge smile on her face.

"But, Bog, I swear if you hurt her, I'm going to mess you up." Ethan warned as he pulled back turning his attention towards Harry. "Oh mate, I promise. I would never." He replied looking at you as you smiled up at him.

"Well! This is great news! Let's plan for a triple date soon!" Faith interjected easing the tension Ethan held. You spent the rest of the night at their house with Harry in their living room just chatting away.

A night that felt too short.

~~~

A/n

I hope you enjoyed this one! I think it's kind of adorable. Sorry about making Ethan seem so protective but I was going for a Ross finding out his sister and best friend were dating type of vibe. Also, I watched pride and prejudice yesterday and the moonlit walk bit was slightly inspired by the end of the movie.

[joshkizzy]

‘MORNING GLORY’ - j t k

pairing. jake kiszka x fem!reader

genre. reader x jake established relationship au, fluff, smut 18+

word count. 3k+

❝ coffee first? or sex? ❞

content warnings. smut, strong language, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial (if you squint), unprotected sex, etc.

a/n. hi! please excuse any spelling/grammatical errors! likes, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

Jake certainly was not a morning person. He never has been, and probably never will be. He's always thrived in the nighttime, when the sky is only lit by the moon and the stars.

That was one of his perks when it came to performing and hitting the road. He could quite literally stay on stage all night if he wanted to, he actually may have done it a few times right when he was breaking out on the rock scene. While others tired around midnight, he only became more awake.

You had grown used to the late night calls from the road, from cities you honestly didn't even know existed. Middle of nowhere Kansas for example at three in the morning so he could tell you about a new riff he came up with in the middle of a show. Most would get annoyed by his random phone calls, you adore them.

However, he doesn't have to call anymore, at least not right now. His latest tour just ended, so he's back home. When Jake wants to talk, he just crawls in bed and whispers in your ear now. Not last night though, in fact he actually went to bed with you, claiming he wanted to fix his sleep schedule. By 10 p.m. he was laying beside you, but when you woke up for glass of water at midnight, he'd snuck off back to his in-home studio.

Some dogs you can't teach new tricks.

"What time did you come up?" You ask softly, pushing some stray hairs out of his eyes. His hair is always a mess when he first wakes up.

He stretches his legs and rubs the sleep from the corners of his eyes with the palms of his hands, "Three, I think."

You can't help but tease him lightly, "That's pretty early."

"It's pretty early right now." He yawns, covering his face, then peeks from behind his fingers, "What time is it?"

"Almost nine."

"Fuck."

You grin as he turns inward to you, snaking an arm around your middle and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His lips press against your skin where you can feel the lightest hint of a smile on them, his warm breaths puffing against you as they slow and even out.

"How tired are you?" You ask softly, shifting beside him.

"Why?" He asks.

"I dunno."

"Oh, I see." He chuckles and pulls away, "Playing shy with me."

"Don't go," you whine softly, scooting yourself closer and gazing up at him, the covers pulled to your chin creating an adorable scene, "the bed gets cold when you leave. You're like a space heater."

"Cute." He mumbles, peeking under the covers, "That's why all your clothes go missing by the morning?"

This time you push away from him, rolling on your side so your back faces his direction. His laughter is raspy from sleep as he tries to pull you back to him but you manage to sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress. Last night you didn't lose all your clothes, you wake this morning clad in just a pair of underwear though.

A single calloused finger traces down the line of your back, swirling at the base of it, "You've got goosebumps. Come back and I'll warm you up."

He was right, little bumps cover your skin. It's unknown if it's from the chill of the room or his finger however.

"It's too early for your teasing." You peek back at him over your shoulder. He's laying on his back, one arm lazily resting above his head while the other is stretched out to you, still sketching invisible designs onto your skin.

The faintest feeling of a capital J is being traced over your hip.

"Won't tease," he says, then holds his pinky finger up in promise. That smile he loves so much crawls across your lips as you turn and crawl back into his arms, hovering over him as he smiles up at you, murmuring softly, "There's my girl."

Your face is so close to his, his sleepy eyes have gone crossed, but you don't say anything about it out of fear that he'll move away. So you stare at him a moment longer before laying down and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrap snug around you, palm rubbing up and down the expanse of your back, venturing lower and lower each time his hand smooths downward. After a moment longer, you sit up and straddle him properly, cupping his face in your hands. His cheeks are tinged pink, he's always slept hot, and his five o'clock shadow from yesterday has turned into morning stubble today.

"How can you look so sweet yet provocative at the same time?" Your finger traces down the side of his jaw as he studies you over with gentle eyes, peeking through his long lashes at you.

Licking his lips, he replies back in a husky voice, "The same way you're an angel and a minx wrapped into one, I guess."

You smile bashfully, tucking your chin downwards towards your chest as if to keep your blushing face hidden. He can still see you through your hair though, it seems to make you all the more enchanting. Your eyes flicker to his hands, once planted on your thighs they have begun to creep upwards, to your hips where they fiddle with the elastic of your panties for a second before higher and higher. Up your sides, over your ribcage until he's delicately cupping the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip through a smile, gazing at him with excitement.

"It's only nine and we've already sinned." He sighs, as if so disappointed in yourselves. "Our lust will send us straight to hell if we continue on with our ways."

"I was damned the second we met, Kiszka." You psh at him, leaning over him with a look so sultry in your eyes it could make ice melt. "Also, no sinning yet, we haven't even kissed, we've only touched."

He crosses that off the list the very instant you've finished your sentence, pecking your lips with his own. It only takes but a single strike of a match for a flame to catch, and you crash your lips into his when he lays his head back against the pillow. Oh, how perfect he is. And oh, how in love with him you are.

Whatever else was on the to-do list this morning has been tossed away without a second thought or a care in the world. For this moment is far more important than any other chore, errand, or task you had planned for the day. Jake had a talent for flipping your schedule with just a kiss on the lips.

When you pull away for a breath, he doesn't let it last long, making you gasp for air when he places his firm hand on the back of your neck and pulls you back in for another passionate caress. You hum into his mouth as his tongue ventures out over your soft lips, your soft sounds, like a gentle melody almost, causing his hips to search upward for your own and his mouth to break out into a perfect smile. It makes it harder to continue on with your kisses, but that's what makes it so much fun.

A delicious throb has begun to pulse between your thighs, so you can't help but push yourself down against him. His light grunt slides into a groan, arms wrapping around your body to pull you closer, to keep you as close as he possible can. With your chests pressed tight together, it's almost as if your hearts have morphed into one beating organ.

The kisses have slowed, desperate passion fizzling to its first end. Surely there will be plenty more beginnings and ends today, let alone this morning.

His lips pucker against yours lazily, smacking softly over your bottom one, to the corner of your mouth then up to your cupids bow. It feels like a dance, with its own steps and rhythm, as if a spell is being cast upon you.

He pulls away an inch, craning his neck back to look at your face up close. You grin, brushing your nose dearly against his, causing him to smile back.

He asks in a low tone, "Coffee first? Or sex?"

Laughter bursts from your chest, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you shake with giggles. His chest bounces with his own silent chuckles, hand coming up to smooth over your head.

"Ugh," you sigh, relaxing against him, "I'd like to say sex first but I think I'll need coffee for energy."

"Stay here," he murmurs, flipping you gently so your back is now pressed to the mattress, kissing your temple as he rolls off of you and pads across the bedroom in just a pair of boxers, "I'll brew us some." He knows exactly how you take yours. "Omelets after?"

"Ohhhh you know me so well," you stretch, watching him lean against the doorway, watching you in the morning light, "it makes me so horny."

He rolls his eyes and subtly adjusts himself before turning and sauntering away, "Settle down, I haven't even made it downstairs yet."

You smile to yourself as he vanishes into the hallway, letting the steady padding of his feet down the staircase lull you. The house is big, but not too big to where you can't hear him opening cabinets and placing two mugs down on the counter. You can hear him click the buttons on the coffee maker and the sound and smell of the roasted beans floats up to you, making your eyes shut softly.

Sharing a bed with Jake has made sleep come easy to you. His smell has stained the sheets and pillowcases, when he first went away on tour you feared when the sun went down and you crawled into bed alone. But, it went smoother than you thought, clutching his pillow to your chest, laying your head where he usually lays his and sleeping in his spot night after night. It's as though the sheets are his arms and you're wrapped up in them till dawn. The sound of him just down the stairs though makes dozing all the easier. Knowing that he's right there and not across the sea, in a different time zone where the sun is going down while you're getting up, it comforts you on an entirely different level.

Sleep has just begun to consume you, starting at your head and working its way down, until the bedding slowly slips off your body and someone has begun to travel up it.

"I was gone like five minutes and you're already asleep?" He teases with a growl in his voice, his lips brushing up the skin of your chest and shoulder to the shell of your ear.

You inhale deeply through your nose and smile sleepily, chest arching upwards to him as he retraces his way back down your body, lips tickling kisses onto your tummy and each of your hips.

"Sorry," you exhale, humming in content and widening your legs as you gaze at the ceiling, feeling his adventurous lips kiss your inner thighs, "it's so easy to sleep when you're home."

"I know what you mean." He nods, hair tickling your skin as it brushes over you. His eyes glance up to you as his breath fans over your clothed center, watching as you stare patiently yet expectingly at the ceiling. What an angelic view it is.

"Do you miss me when you go away?" You ask softly as if to fill the silence.

You've never been one for complete silence and staring, though Jake enjoys it quite a lot. He compares it to looking at art.

He smiles to himself, readjusting his position on his forearms and rests his chin softly on your lower tummy, "How crazy is it that I missed you just now downstairs in the kitchen?"

You lift yourself onto you elbows, grinning down at him with messy hair. He smiles back at you, the tops of his ears turning pink when you tilt your head to rest against your shoulder. With softened, fond eyes, you reach a single hand out to push his hair back from his face, combing your fingers through it and gently cupping his cheek as you admire him.

"Crazy, but sweet." Your voice is tiny. He loves it.

It makes him feel all warm and gooey inside, like a fresh baked chocolate chip cookie. He leans into your touch, then rests his head against your thigh. You lick your lips then bite the lower one, patience wearing thin. The smell of coffee invites you both downstairs for a cup, but you both know neither of you will be getting up for anything at all anytime soon.

"Lay back." He says, moving to sit on his knees and moves his hands straight to the sides of your underwear, hooking his fingers beneath the fabric and pulling them off as you let yourself fall back into the sheets and lift your legs for easy discarding. He tosses them aside, sliding his hands down the outsides of your smooth legs before pressing against the insides and spreading you out for him. With a growl and leans down and puts his mouth on you, hands gripping your thighs and moving to cup your ass.

Airy sighs and soft mewls leak from your lips as you tip your head back and clutch the sheets beneath your body. He keeps his lips on you, running his tongue through your wetness and suckling just enough to send a jolt through your body and make your thighs twitch. His hands move, one coasting up to roll your hardened nipples between his finger and thumb, and the other joining his mouth, drawing tight circles with the pad of his thumb over your bundle of nerves.

"Fuck you," it's a hiccuping gasp that makes him smile into your core and flatten out his tongue, your mess smearing across his cheeks and chin. You don't really mean it in the griping, irritated way. You mean it in the Jesus Christ you know me so well, better than I know myself, you know me just as you know how to play all your other instruments way. That's why he pulls away right when you're about to tip over the edge and kisses your knee delicately.

"A bit mouthy this morning." He comments with a smirk as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

As you lay panting, you rest your bare foot against his shoulder in a playful, albeit exhausted, shove as you breathily respond, "You kiss yours with your own?"

His fingers circle the arch of your foot just as you've gone to set it down, and brings it upward so he can press a gentle kiss to the inside of your ankle. Your eyes fall closed, feeling him touch and love you was enough, watching him do it to you seemed too much. It's why you often end up throwing an arm over your eyes as you carelessly moan beneath him.

"Look at me," he says as he shuffles, kicking off his underwear and sliding the head of his cock through you.

I can't you want to whisper back, but end up cracking an eye open anyway. He's staring at you with dark eyes, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he takes. He's so ready, and so are you, but the moment before is almost better than the moment. Your hand reaches for his perched upon your hip, and his fingers interlace with your own as he slowly pushes into you.

"Ah..." he shudders, sinking in further as you lay back with an open mouth, nothing leaving it as he stretches you out pleasantly. "Tight thing. Wound up so tight for me." He huffs, only half way in.

Your walls contract as he looks at you, then squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling. Your breath stutters as he goes another inch, hand squeezing his own. He squeezes back.

"I love you," you whisper at a volume so low you're surprised he can hear you at all.

But he does, and he leans down and pushes in to the hilt, ripping a satisfied, dragged out moan deep from your chest as he licks into your mouth, "I love you too."

He slowly drags in and out, thrusting at an even pace to get you adjusted to the feeling. And when your hand lets go of his and to join the other to claw at the muscles of his back, he takes it as a sign to move a bit faster and with determination. Pants and moans and profanities fill the room, sheets ruffling and the bed frame creaking too, all sounds you've become addicted to since Jake got back.

"Is this a good morning for you, baby?" He murmurs against your heated skin, his voice as steady as can be, as if he's asking you if the weather was nice enough to have breakfast out on the porch.

You laugh through your pleasure, sighing back with a nod, "This is a great morning."

"How do you feel?" He asks again, this time his voice deeper, more sensual.

Jake and his questions. He always waits for an answer.

You swallow thickly, brows coming together as that feeling in your tummy grows heavier and heavier, "Jake-"

"Tell me," he insists that you speak in a voice that is as warm as whiskey, "I want to hear you."

"Good," you whimper, crying out as he brushes against that sweet spot inside of you, "so good."

His head drops, smile laced on his lips, and his hair curtains your faces together. Your breaths intermingle in the little space between you, hardly an inch away from the other. Not only can you hear every little sound he makes, every hitching exhale, every minuscule whimper, but you can see it all too. His thick eyebrows pushing together, creating a crease between them as he concentrates. When his tongue darts out to swipe over his pink lips, wetting them before he pulls the bottom one between his teeth to stifle another sound. Nostrils flaring and eyes squinting before readjusting every time you tighten up. It's all a beautiful show, and you're front row. Actually, you're the plot line.

"Pretty," he pants out, kissing over your hairline, "little thing. Doin' so well."

"Please, don't stop." You sigh, eyes rolling back, especially so when his hand drifts down to gently press a palm into your lower tummy. A high-pitched mewl rips from you as your arms hook behind his neck, "Jake!"

"Don't stop this?" He asks devilishly, though he is just as desperate as you are, his pumping hips faltering every so often. A cry of pure bliss falls onto his ears, one that makes him shiver and cradle you closer to him. You're so close, and so is he. "I won't stop for you, you close? Oh, I can feel you baby."

"Shhhh," you clench your teeth together, eyes squeezing shut as you climax builds, "just fuck me right now. No talking."

"Then just take it," he huffs into your ear, readjusting his position, pushing one leg up higher with his hand holding the back of your thigh as he begins to rock into you, "take it like a good girl."

A delicate noise trembles from your chest as your brows dip and eyes shut, hips moving on their own accord as you try to fight off your release a little longer.

"Oh?" He teases you, hands coming down to grip your hips, keeping you still in his hold, "Don't ignore it, invite it."

"You sound like my yoga instructor." You breathe just enough air to scoff at him before you're buried beneath your moans again.

He chuckles at it though, watching you from the new position on his knees, gritting his teeth together every time you tighten and draw him in. It isn't intentional anymore, you can't help it at all. Blissful cries leak from your lips as you search out for him, holding his arms to ground yourself.

"Jake-" you warn, turning your head, face twisting into a look of such intense pleasure it could be mistaken for pain.

It isn't though, far from it. Your arm moves to shield your face, but he pins them both down, making sure you can't hide from him.

"I know baby," he nods you on, his voice tender as he encourages you, "come on, do it for me. Gonna let go like a nice girl? Just for me?"

"Only-" you gasp and jolt as it creeps up on you, correcting yourself oh so sweetly, "always for you."

He smiles and nods at you, "Let's see it then. Feels so good, yeah? What's it feel like?"

It's too much for 9 a.m. Quite preposterous actually, and if you were both still having those sleepovers where he'd come and visit you for a night at your apartment, it'd be over by now because of a neighbor pounding on a shared wall. But that's not how it is anymore, and it hasn't been that way in quite some time, and it won't ever be like that again. You both know that.

So what does it feel like? Nothing short of heaven, you're sure.

But you can't phrase that right now, you can hardly think. Usually he'd make a comment about how he's fucking you stupid but lack of sleep and coffee is keeping his smug commentary at bay. All together, it's sweet morning sex. Vanilla for the two of you.

How lucky you are.

"I'm coming," you rush out, blinking up at him and opening your mouth to say one last thing, but nothing comes out because it crashes over you like a tidal wave.

He smiles, eyes sleepy and fucked out but his grin is bright. It always is.

"That's it," he murmurs his praises as you let go, spasming around his length and shaking beneath him as he comes down and speaks into the kiss he gives you, "there you go..."

He follows right behind you, letting go of your arms to draw you near and hold you against his chest as he lets go. Soft sounds of love mingle in the room a little longer as he keeps his hips moving to ride you both through it. Slowly, you come down from the high, and he stills, just keeping you in his arms a little longer.

The stillness of the morning, the feeling of him so close, the only noise now being your relaxing breaths. The after of it all is nearly just as perfect. You're unsure if you'll ever want to actually let go of this moment, let alone him.

"Good morning," he hums, lips brushing against the shell of your ear before he barely moves his lips to pucker against it.

A breath leaves your body in a laugh as you turn your head to look at him, "One of our best. I think this has been my favorite morning ever, actually."

The right side of his mouth hooks upward as he quietly tells you, "I've missed mornings like this."

You cup his cheek, his softened eyes making your heart warm and quite possibly grow ten sizes, "Me too."

Another minute of silence goes by. It's funny how right now you enjoy and allow it to soak in.

He pushes himself up onto his forearm, looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "Let's clean up, then coffee?"

You nod with a smile and join him in the bathroom.

© JOSHYKIZZY