#and how he always had his back. and because of that this guy always had his friends back

[missdynamighttt]

thinking abt katsuki who gets mad when u put a pillow on ur lap when he lays down on it 💔💔 AND THIS IS FOR THE CHUBBY GIRLS W THICK THIGHS!!! urgh katsuki would so love a pluz size girl he would be all over her

katsuki was pouting. actually, no—he was sulking. that'd probably because he was in hell. not the kind with fire and demons, no, this was worse.

you had barely sat down on the couch before he sprawled out dramatically, resting his head in your lap like he always did.

it was his favorite place to be, right on top of you, wrapped up in your warmth, your scent, your presence.

but today, you did the unthinkable.

because right in front of him, you had the audacity, the sheer disrespect, to place a pillow on your lap. his lap. the lap that he was supposed to lay on, unfiltered, unobstructed, completely consuming you like he deserved.

“what the fuck is this?” he grumbled, glaring at the offensive object like it personally insulted his entire bloodline.

“it’s a pillow, katsuki,” you replied, suppressing a smile.

“yeah? no shit, why is it here?” his voice was all sorts of offended, like you had personally wronged him in the worst way possible. “i don’t wanna lay on some dumb pillow—i wanna lay on you.”

you rolled your eyes. “maybe i don’t want your heavy-ass head on my legs all the time.”

“oh, please,” he scoffed, shifting so he could grab at your thighs. his fingers squeezed your flesh, his grip firm but greedy. “these are mine. they’re meant for me. not a goddamn pillow.”

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh while his red eyes flicked between you and the pillow like he was debating setting it on fire. “katsuki—”

“no.” he glared at the pillow like it was his sworn enemy. “you’re warm. you’re soft. you’re perfect. and you’re putting this thing between us?”

he sounded actually hurt, as if the pillow was personally getting in the way of his love for you. “why would you do that to me?”

you blinked at him. “are you really getting this worked up over a pillow?”

“yes.” he said it without shame, without hesitation. “now move it.”

you raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “and what do i get if i do?”

he smirked, shifting so his hand trailed up your thigh, squeezing with purpose. “oh, baby, you know what you’ll get.”

you sighed dramatically, pretending to be reluctant as you removed the pillow.

the instant it was gone, katsuki squished his face into your thighs with a satisfied groan, wrapping his arms around your waist like he was afraid you’d take it away again.

“never pull that shit again,” he mumbled, nuzzling into you. “i got the best damn thighs in the world, and you wanna cover ‘em up with some dumbass pillow? over my dead body."

he sighed deeply, like he had just endured the greatest hardship known to man. his face was completely buried in your thighs, as if he could merge with them if he tried hard enough.

"see?" he murmured, voice slightly muffled against your thigh. "this is how it's supposed to be. no stupid pillow. just you."

you rolled your eyes, but the fond smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "you’re such a drama queen."

"yeah, and you're my throne, so shut up and let me enjoy it," he shot back, already closing his eyes like he planned to stay there forever.

you huffed a laugh as you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. his grip on you tightened, a pleased hum vibrating against your skin as he melted into your touch.

for someone so explosive, so rough around the edges, he sure acted like a needy housecat when it came to you.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊�� ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ anon ilysm for requesting this, i really do. i'm probably writing the breeding kink next after this, considering it a 4k special since we're going so fast😭 lmk if you wanna be tagged and i hope you guys enjoy💗💗

[bbokicidal]

skz + cucking

You read the title. Synopsis: Based off of a request asking who SKZ would most want to be cucked by and why.

Genre: Smut Pairing: OT8 x Afab!Reader Warnings: 18+ (MDNI) Notes: None ~

Chan: Minho. Honestly, I think he would be totally fine being cucked by any of the boys; But if it were up to him, and the one that would rile him up the most, is Minho. He's just a little bit younger, and he's the 'uptight, stoic, older brother but somehow mom' of the group - And Chan just thinks Minho deserves a little break and to be able to relax for a while instead of looking out for the Youngers of the group. So, naturally, Chan tells you to ride Minho until he's pink in the ears and near to tears.

Minho: Jeongin. Guy gets off on seeing you with the youngest. He partially likes watching you two get it on because he likes seeing the way Jeongin fumbles with you and is a little surprised that you're so bratty and pushing his patience to see what riles him up and gets him rough. Jeongin expected you to be more submissive, given he figured Minho was the more dominant person in the relationship. Little did he know; This was just what happened when you had two tops who bit at each other and pushed the limits. Jeongin just had to figure out how to handle you.

Changbin: Seungmin. He loves seeing you with Seungmin; Either using his favorite younger to get yourself off, or letting the vocalist take out some of his frustrations on you. Seungmin didn't have a partner of his own so he always came to Changbin if he was needing to blow off some steam, asking if he could borrow you for the night - And Changbin always agreed on the condition that he could be in the room. Seungmin never minded, he actually kind of liked having his favorite Hyung watching. Even if it felt a little dirty using his sweetheart like this...

Hyunjin: Chan. Chan, all the way - but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Hyunjin wants you with Chan and Chan only because he trusts the eldest with everything he has. He trusts Chan to take care of you the way you deserve, to be as romantic as him and to be careful with you when something happens that might be a little more rough. He wants you in good hands and he trusts Chan to be delicate with you. (I'm sure you were hoping I'd say you get devoured and fucked hard the by Red Lights duo and you do, but only when they both need to let off some steam. Otherwise it's usually more romantic and soft.)

Jisung: Hyunjin. Jisung is antsy when it comes to sex; He's touchy, fumbling, rushing ahead of himself and always trying to get the most he can out of the time he has with you - so Hyunjin being with you is perfect because he is the complete opposite. Hyunjin's a romantic and is setting the room up with candles and rose petals, taking you by the hand and kissing you so sweetly while Jisung sits helpless in the corner. Jisung loves watching it all, sitting out and just observing, but because he's so antsy you do have to tie his hands to the armrests of the chair so he can't get up and try to join.

Felix: Changbin. Felix is NOT going to pass up the chance to see you with his favorite Hyung. He isn't super huge on being sucked in general but if it's Changbin, he'll let anything slide. And seeing Changbin being able to manhandle you so easily (not that Felix can't, he just can't toss you and lift you all that easily because of his back) makes Felix determined to work out more often. His favorite part to see is when Changbin literally folds you in half to fuck you easier. He's always learning new positions and techniques from his Hyung. <3

Seungmin: Jisung. Seungmin doesn't trust many of the guys with you because some of them can be so rough in the bedroom and he knows that because he swears he's heard all of them fucking at least once through the years of living together and swapping roommates. He likes listening sometimes, but watching one of his group members with you is so much more exhilarating. And of course he's picking Jisung to ask if he wants to join because he knows the answer will be yes and because he trusts Jisung to not rip you in half in bed. He also finds it a bit amusing how quickly Jisung moves with you, grabbing at your body to try and feel over every inch before his time with you is up.

Jeongin: Felix. His favorite Hyung is always welcome to join the two of you in the bedroom, but Jeongin knows well that he himself isn't interested in a threesome. Not with another guy, at least. So when Felix asks to join in some nights, Jeongin is always happy to say yes and invite him over to the apartment; And Jeongin is never upset about not being able to have sex with you because he's just as happy watching his favorite member taking care of you. Though he always ends up being a bit surprised by how feral Felix can get when it comes to you.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix

[https-bakugo]

"Was I just the fucking NOTES guy to you??" Part Three / (k.bakugo x GN! Reader) (Written)

Bakugo was a smart man.

He knew things that others didn't - and naturally, he caught onto things that others couldn't.

Bakugo was a man who used what he knew and substituted what he didn't. He was resourceful, which means he was useful and that meant he was needed.

He was intelligent, gifted and all the different kinds of things that made people jealous of his inevitable success.

He grew up with a quirk. A powerful quirk. He was told that from a young age, Katsuki Bakugo would grow up to be something incredible. To be one of the most influential heroes the world has ever seen.

-

Bakugo had everything he had ever wanted handed to him. Here he was, twenty five, and one of the greatest heroes Japan had ever seen.

And yet, despite holding the world in the palms of his hands. It wasn’t enough. He needed something more. 

You. 

His highschool love. The one thing that slipped through his fingers. It was nine years ago. 

Nine long, excruciating years.

Though he was too late. He figured out all your cute and cheesy hints, too late - made all the right plans, too late - reached for your longing hand, too late - ached for your touch - dreamt of your lips sliding against his own… simply too late.

He had tried to shoot his shot back then but he was much too late.

But it had been nine years.

Nine whole years since he saw you. And according to Deku, five years since the both of you had broken up.

Surely now, surely now he had his chance. His opening. It was obvious he was still pining for you. 

His heart was yours.

He knew that.

Kirishima knew that.

Deku knew that.

You, knew that.

You knew.

Which is how he ended up finding himself, his lips pressed against yours - just like how a younger Katsuki only dreamt of doing - as he pressed you up against his bedroom wall. 

How did he manage to get himself stuck in this situation? 

He didn't remember.

And he didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t care. It really didn't matter either.

His friends were throwing a party - that’s right. Something about celebrating his “heroic success” or whatever.

Something about inviting his old classmates.

Something about inviting you.

Something about seeing you again, standing there like you were the only person in the room.

It was like the rest of the world melted into nothing as Katsuki stared at you. He didn't realise how much more... how much more you were.

It wasn't more in a bad way.

Not at all.

More. You were just so much. More. He could barely think - let alone place his messed up, jumbled thoughts into coherent words. It was like just the mere glimpse of you had him going insane, a mess of flushed cheeks and racing hearts- and short breaths- and everything. He felt sick, like he was going to hurl all over the carpet but in a good way, y’know?

His palms were sweaty and Katsuki’s head spun. All the lights were too bright and the music was too much. His legs felt like jelly and… shit - were you looking at him? 

Looking right at him with those drowning eyes of yours? 

Smiling at him with that godforsaken smile of yours?

Taking his scarred and calloused palm against the soft skin of your own hand?

Katsuki could write a poem about your beauty - no, he could write a million. He could strip the trees of their skin and use the charcoal as a pencil and exhaust the earth’s crust of its natural life, and still - still he couldn’t capture you. 

Your raw essence.

Your brilliance.

The way you shine and shimmer.

The way your eyes crinkle- and your breath gets stuck in your throat. The pads of your fingertips and the softness of your collarbones, and the dip and curve of you back and- and- and- 

God, he was smitten.

And god.

Katsuki was going to die.

He was going to die again and it was all your fucking fault.

Fucking hell. It was always your fault. 

All of it. 

Everything was your fault.

He pushed himself harder, all because of those melodic words you used to sing to him. How you looked up to him when you were teenagers. 

He worked on himself because you had told him you liked seeing the parts of him that nobody else had.

"I want to see the parts of you that nobody else has."

There was no way in hell that sentence was platonic. God he was such a fucking idiot back then, it was so fucking obvious you liked him. So fucking obvious.

And he missed it.

Like the idiot he was back then.

But he wasn’t going to lose you once more. He would rather tear out his own spinal cord - tendons, ligaments, flesh and bloody bone - then let you slip in between his fingers again. 

-

Katsuki’s breath was hot against your lips, his skin was buzzing with life and his heart pounded in his ears. He felt like if he took a step back he was going to stumble and fall. You looked so… ethereal. In his arms with your lips swollen and your cheeks flushed.

Katsuki leaned down and brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, his gaze softened as a soft smile tugged at his cheeks. 

“I love you.” 

He whispered, voice small. 

“I always have.”

That sense of… being wanted for so long crushed you like a new fish being thrown into its new fish tank- but it was home. 

I’m home.

Here in Katsuki’s arms. The smell of caramel, the feeling of his pulse throbbing against your palm, his imperfect and scarred flesh-

“Perfect.” You whispered under your breath.

“You’re perfect Katsuki.” You mumbled, sliding your lips across his, nails digging into the back of his shirt as he slid a strong hand under your leg, pulling his lips away only to latch onto the soft curve of your neck.

“I love you.” He sighed.

“Never leave me. Never again.”

Part One / Part Two

Everyone thnak @somnbul for helping OH MY GOD TERES A MOZZIE ON MY ARM SCRAMAINFOANFAJSNFOWAUFA

Taglist: @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault

Additional Mutual Tags (I want to hurt you lawl): @rueclfer - @tokeposts

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

[tonysbed]

You belong with me | MV1

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader

Summary: Max ruins any date you go onto, claiming it was either a coincidence or the guy was shit..

warnings: idiots to lovers, swearing, crying, bit of a misunderstanding (reader is an overthinker like all of us)

main masterlist

-

You don’t know when it started, but you do know that it’s starting to piss you off.

Because at this point, it’s not even subtle anymore.

Every single date you go on? Ruined.

Not in an obvious, throw-a-drink-in-your-face kind of way—no, that would be too easy. Instead, it’s always conveniently timed interruptions, coincidental run-ins, or your date suddenly deciding he’s not that into you after one too many glares from across the room.

And the common denominator?

Max fucking Verstappen.

Your best friend—who, apparently, has made it his life’s mission to sabotage every attempt you make at having a love life.

Tonight is no different.

You had a good feeling about this one. He was nice, funny, normal—a rare find in your world. Dinner had been going well, conversation flowing, and you had even allowed yourself to relax, to think that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

And then, of course—

“Oh, wow. Crazy running into you here.”

You swear to God, you almost stab him with your fork.

Max stands at the edge of your table, hands in his pockets, looking like he didn’t just walk into this restaurant with the sole intention of ruining your night.

Your date glances between the two of you, oblivious. “Oh, you guys know each other?”

You grit your teeth. “Unfortunately.”

Max grins. “She loves me, really.”

Your date laughs. Laughs. Like this is all just some funny coincidence.

You know better.

Max strikes up a conversation with him, effortlessly steering things in a direction that makes the guy start to feel out of place, like he doesn’t belong in your world. By the time the check arrives, he’s already making some excuse about an early morning, giving you an apologetic smile before heading out.

And just like that, another one bites the dust.

You stay seated, arms crossed, as Max slides into the now-vacant seat across from you. “You’re a menace.”

He steals a fry off your plate. “He was boring.”

You groan. “Oh my God. That’s not for you to decide, Max!”

He shrugs. “Just looking out for you.”

“No, you’re being a controlling asshole.”

His brows furrow slightly. “It’s not like that.”

You exhale sharply, pushing your plate away. “Then what is it like, Max? Because I can’t keep doing this. Every time I start to like someone, you show up and ruin it.”

He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the frustration boil over.

“Is it fun for you? Do you get some kind of thrill out of watching me end up alone?”

Max flinches, like you actually hit him. “Jesus, that’s not—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” you snap.

His jaw clenches. His hands curl into fists on the table. His whole body is wound tight, like he’s holding something back.

And then—

“They’re not me.”

The words hang between you, heavy and unmovable.

You blink, heart stuttering. “What?”

Max exhales, looking almost… defeated. “They’re not me. And you deserve—” He stops, shaking his head. “You deserve someone who already knows all your little quirks. Someone who doesn’t need to ‘get to know you’ because he’s already been there through everything.”

You swallow, pulse hammering. “Max—”

“You deserve someone who gets that you overthink everything, who already knows exactly how to talk you down from it. Someone who doesn’t get tired of your rants about the smallest things, who actually likes listening to you talk, even when it’s about shit he doesn’t understand.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You deserve someone who would never fucking leave, no matter how much you push him away. Someone who—” He looks away, voice quieter. “Someone who already loves you.”

Your heart is pounding.

The weight of his words crashes over you all at once, knocking the breath from your lungs. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Max watches you, eyes guarded, like he’s bracing for impact.

And suddenly, it all clicks.

The ruined dates. The coincidences. The way he’s always there, standing between you and anyone who so much as tries to get close.

It was never about them.

It was always about you.

And, more importantly—

It was always about him.

Your throat tightens. “You… you never said anything.”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “And what would I have said? That I’ve been in love with my best friend since before I even knew what the fuck that meant?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Max…”

He rubs a hand over his face. “Just forget it, okay? It’s fine. I just—”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you grab his face in your hands and kiss him.

Max stills for half a second, like he can’t quite believe it’s happening. Then—he melts into you, hands finding your waist, pulling you in like he’s been waiting for this forever.

And maybe he has.

And maybe, so have you.

When you finally pull away, he looks at you, eyes searching. “So… you’re not going to kill me?”

You let out a watery laugh. “Oh, I definitely am. Just—later.”

Max grins. “I can work with that.”

-

bsf!reader is the best 🧚

[hivemindscape]

im a big fan of esper powers slipping loose in harmless ways when they're happy

[ari-ana-bel-la]

omg can you write one for Lewis where he makes a special helmet with some of the drawings his daughter has made for him, his helmet ends up having stars rainbows etc

A Helmet full of Art

The moment Lewis became a father, he knew nothing would ever matter more to him than his little girl, Yn. At just three years old, she had already captured his entire heart, filling his life with laughter, tiny hugs, and endless chatter about her favorite things. She was a bright little spark—curious, loving, and always eager to create something new.

And lately, that "something new" had been drawings.

Lewis had first noticed it when Yn would sit at the coffee table, her tiny tongue sticking out in concentration as she held a crayon in her chubby hands, dragging colors across the page with uncontainable enthusiasm. At first, her drawings were just a mix of squiggles and chaotic rainbows, but over time, they started to resemble actual things—flowers, cats, and even an attempt at drawing both of them together.

"Look, Daddy!" she'd exclaim every time she finished. "This one’s you and me!"

And every single time, Lewis' heart melted.

He was the kind of father who supported Yn in anything she wanted to do. If she decided tomorrow that she wanted to be an astronaut, he’d find her a tiny space suit. If she wanted to become a ballerina, he’d be at every recital. So when he saw how much she adored drawing, he went all in—buying her the best colored pencils, sketchbooks, and even a little artist’s apron.

But what he hadn’t expected was how much her drawings would come to mean to him. He kept every single one. The rainbow she had drawn with colors that didn’t quite follow the traditional order. The cat that had oddly shaped whiskers but still looked adorable. The one of them together, with his curly hair drawn way too big and Yn’s little stick-figure self holding his hand. The flowers and bees that she had proudly declared were for him because "you like flowers, Daddy!"

So when the time came for his first home race as a Ferrari driver, Lewis wanted his helmet to be special.

And there was only one thing that felt right.

The paddock was buzzing with anticipation. It was Lewis’ first home race wearing Ferrari red, and everyone knew he’d do something big. But no one expected what he revealed when he stepped into the garage on Friday.

"Alright, guys," Lewis said, grinning as he pulled the cover off his new helmet. "Meet my new favorite helmet ever."

The garage fell silent for a moment. Then—

"Oh my god," Charles breathed out, stepping closer. "Are these… Yn’s drawings?"

Lewis beamed. "Yep."

The helmet was a masterpiece. Instead of his usual bright yellow, it was now a canvas filled with his daughter’s art. Her rainbow stretched across the top, her wobbly cat drawing sat proudly on one side, the flowers and bees covered another part, and right at the back, a big, bold drawing of them together. It was messy, colorful, and absolutely perfect.

"You actually put them on your helmet," Carlos said, grinning. "Man, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen."

"She loves drawing," Lewis explained, running his fingers over the helmet. "And I love everything she makes. I wanted her to be part of this weekend somehow, and this felt right."

Oscar, who had just arrived, let out a low whistle. "This might be the most wholesome thing I’ve ever seen in F1."

Pierre nudged Max. "Admit it, even you think this is cute."

Max rolled his eyes but smirked. "Yeah, yeah, it's cute. Not as cute as my cats, though."

Lando burst out laughing. "I swear, you and your cats—"

"But seriously," George interrupted, shaking his head in admiration. "This is incredible, mate. I bet Yn’s gonna freak out when she sees it."

"She hasn't seen it yet," Lewis admitted. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

And oh, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

Later that afternoon, after all the practice sessions, Lewis finally had time to call home. He was sitting in the Ferrari motorhome, holding his phone in his hands, waiting for the call to connect.

The moment the screen lit up, Yn’s bright little face appeared, her curls bouncing as she gasped.

"Daddy!" she squealed. "Hi hi hi!"

"Hey, baby," Lewis grinned. "I’ve got a surprise for you."

Yn's eyes widened. "A 'prise? For me?"

Lewis laughed, turning his phone camera around to show his helmet. "Look at this, baby. Do you recognize these drawings?"

For a second, there was silence. Then, an excited shriek.

"THAT’S MINE! THAT’S MY DRAWINGS!" Yn shouted, practically bouncing. "Daddy, you put them on your hat!"

"Helmet, baby," Lewis chuckled, his heart swelling at her excitement. "But yeah, I did! Now, when I race this weekend, I’ll have you with me."

Yn clapped her hands together, eyes shining. "I love it! I love it, I love it, I love it!"

On the other side of the call, Yn’s grandmother laughed. "Lewis, you’ve just made her entire year."

"That was the plan," he said, winking.

Yn leaned close to the camera, her tiny hands gripping the screen. "Win with my pictures, Daddy!"

Lewis smiled softly. "I’ll try my best, baby girl. Just for you."

When Lewis walked into the paddock on Saturday with his helmet under his arm, the cameras instantly caught sight of it. And within minutes, social media exploded.

@F1: Lewis Hamilton’s helmet this weekend is covered in his 3-year-old daughter’s drawings, and we’re not crying, you are.

@SkySportsF1: Lewis dedicates his home race helmet to his daughter Yn, featuring her personal artwork. A touching tribute from the seven-time champion.

The media went crazy over it. Every journalist wanted to ask about it, every interview started with the same question:

"Tell us about your helmet this weekend, Lewis."

And every time, Lewis proudly explained.

"Yn loves drawing, and I love everything she makes," he said during a press conference. "I wanted to do something special for my first home race with Ferrari, and there was nothing more special than this. It’s my way of carrying her with me on track."

The fans adored it. In the grandstands, they held up signs with her drawings, and Ferrari even arranged for a little sketchbook to be placed in the garage for Yn to "design" future helmets.

By Sunday, it wasn’t just a helmet—it was a symbol of love.

As Lewis strapped himself into the car, he ran a hand over his helmet one last time.

"For you, baby girl," he murmured.

And then, with the whole world watching, he raced.

He raced with his daughter’s rainbow on his head, with her flowers and bees bringing color to the Ferrari red, with her little cat keeping him company through every turn.

And when he crossed the finish line in P1, the first thing he did after climbing out of the car was point to his helmet.

That night, when he called home again, Yn’s excited squeal nearly burst his eardrums.

"You did it, Daddy! My pictures won!"

Lewis laughed, feeling his heart swell. "Yeah, baby. We did it together."

And as far as he was concerned, that made this the most special win of his career.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[beomiracles]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. ⸝⸝

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 25.5k ་༘࿐

𝓹airing bully!beomgyu x fed-up!reader (f) 𝔀arning friends to enemies to lovers, bullying, implied violence, violence, beomgyu's a dick, reader's also mean at times, college au, kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex + pullout, angsty confessions, hmm um um what else, I have no clue..

#serene adds ✎... HAPPY BEOMGYU DAY !! (because it's still the 13th here) ⎯ and oh my god have you guys been waiting for this fic... how long has it been, 6/7 months? maybe even more... I have no words. I feel like this fic is a little all over the place, you might notice the inner monologue changing and so on, but that's because I've been writing it over 6 months roughly, my view on the story has changed with each month... I hope it'll still be worth your while >.< happy gyu day, my love <33 - rain says I need to mention her

This story is a sequel to, The Redemption of Choi Yeonjun ⎯ It's advised that you read said fic beforehand !

People change for the stupidest of reasons. At least Beomgyu thinks so. He’s been told that his view of the world is narrow, that change is something good, something that everyone goes through. That change is important. What a load of bullshit. Look what change had done to his best friend. — Ever since Yeonjun had gotten together with that stupid nerd he’d changed. Changed for the worse. And it seemed as if Beomgyu was the only one who could see it. 

He glares at his classmates, but his once sharp gaze seems to have lost its touch. They whisper, talk, murmur, gossip, they speculate about him. Because everyone knew that something had happened between The Choi’s, that something was no longer the same. — But why him? Beomgyu wasn’t the one who’d changed, they changed, not him. Yeonjun was the one who…He was the one who became infatuated with that good for nothing nerd, and Soobin he…he just accepted it? 

Beomgyu almost snorts at the thought. Fine. If they wanted to give everything up just like that, they could, why should he care? But the lingering glances he receives as he pushes through the crowded hallways are near impossible to shake off. So what if he was walking alone? He didn’t need his friends, they weren’t his friends anymore, they were just side pieces in a much bigger pictur– 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going freak!” He seethes as a small boy crashes into his chest, a freshman probably. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow as he seizes the kid. The younger male swallows as he scrambles to gather his belongings, clearing his throat awkwardly as he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. — “I-I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going and I..” 

What a pathetic being. Beomgyu grimaces at his petty apology, “stay out of my way next time, alright? You weak piece of–” 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” 

The voice is familiar as it pierces through the crowded hallway and suddenly the previous buzz of students surrounding him diminishes as Beomgyu’s gaze flickers past the small boy in front of him. — You. 

His teeth grind together at the sight of your cocky figure, that smug grin you always wore, as if you were better than everyone else, as if you were better than him. What a joke. Ever since him and his friends broke apart, you seemed to have been actively plotting against him, singling him out now that he was alone. — Beomgyu would die before admitting that your schemes ever proved successful. Because if there was one thing he hated, it was people who meddled in his business. And you seemed to know nothing else. 

The young freshman scurries off before Beomgyu has the chance to grab him and he bites back a frustrated groan. Instead his attention shifts to your approaching frame. With the small squeak of your sneakers against the floor, you stop inches from him, your eyes near level with his. — Blood rushes within his body like never before, anger soaring through him at the mere sight of your pestering face. 

“Pick on someone my own size? And that would be what, you?” He scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. The grin on your lips only widened further and he refused another grimace. Then it clicks, and Beomgyu has to hold himself back as he feels his jaw twitch. — “You.” The acknowledgement is a short huff of air, it hits your face and you squint as your eyes pierces his. “You’re the one who’s been running their mouth about me all week.” 

Suppose you had been mentioning his name a little here and there. A few comments, nothing crazy, nothing that wasn’t true. It wasn’t exactly unwarranted either. Choi Beomgyu was a nuisance. And without his friends to protect him, you were finally able to sharpen the knife that had been so diligently resting behind your back for three years. — You had longed for an opportunity to get back at him for all the shit he caused you through freshman and junior year; and finally, the universe presented you with one. 

You glance over at him, it would merely take a small raise of your heel for your eyes to become leveled perfectly with his. Without that tall friend of his, looming behind his back, or Yeonjun’s authoritative status, Choi Beomgyu was really nothing. — That didn’t change the fact that you absolutely loathed him. And you would be sure to have him know. 

“Why, has something interesting caught your ears?” You drawl, feeling the grin on your lips threatening to bloom into a smirk. Beomgyu’s face morphs into a scowl, undoubtedly familiar with the rumors of him you’d conducted during the past weeks. — “You must think you’re so smart, sitting on your ass all day and spewing nonsense”, he grits as he takes a charging step forward, chest colliding with yours and you almost stumble backward. 

It takes some effort but you manage to remain fairly unfazed as you eye him with indifference. It only serves to make him angrier. Beomgyu was like an open book, a book in which you only had to read the paragraph on the very back to understand exactly how it would end. He was predictable, and without his friends, he was an easy target for someone who’d been studying him for so long. 

“I do”, you chirp, hands clasping behind your back as you sway on the spot. Beomgyu scoffs, giving a small roll of his eyes before his firing gaze centers on you again. “Just stay out of my way.” — His attention drops to the uniform you wore, the one school handed out at the beginning of each year, much different from the designer one he had tailored each semester. It was subtle, but different, and Beomgyu’s grin widened as his eyes raked across your worn out shoes and old bag. “Think you’ve got other things to worry ‘bout.” 

Without another word, he continues down the hallway, though not before giving your shoulder a harsh shove. — Your lip twitches into an uncomfortable grimace and with a small huff you readjust your backpack. Fucking asshole. Your tongue prods against your teeth, tsking slightly as you watch him disappear. 

⸝⸝ 

“Oh come on, do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?” You whine as your cheek rests against your forearm, eyes trained on the words being written out on the paper before you. — “I do”, Taehyun states without lifting his pencil from the sheet, brows slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work. 

With a small huff you peer up at him, the glasses on the bridge of his nose are crooked and you resist the urge to snatch them from his face. “And what does Mr. Class President presume I should do then?” You sarcastically wonder; though the question makes him raise a disbelieving brow as he glances toward you. “I suggest you stay out of trouble.” — Just as you open your mouth in objection, does he cut you off; “and not spread rumors about him.” 

Your expression contorts into one of disagreement but you remain silent. In a way, you suppose you should feel thankful for him. Taehyun was your only friend, if friends were even what one could call you. — The mutual acquaintanceship consisted of you sharing the latest events of your quite dull life, recapping the drama you’d picked up on your way to the school cafeteria, and most importantly; Choi Beomgyu. 

Though he was originally opposed to the friendship, Taehyun had begrudgingly come to accept your persistent presence as you lingered by his desk between classes. And by your senior year, he knew everything that was to know about Beomgyu and why you so loathed him. — “Shouldn’t you let go of him? We’re about to graduate next year”, he states, his voice monotone as always but you could clearly decipher a hint of pleading as he urged for you to stop fawning over the guy. 

“Let go?” You scoff, sitting up a bit straighter as you eye him with a frown, “I do not need to ‘let go’, I need revenge, besides, Christmas break is coming up, I need to act fast.” — Seemingly unimpressed by your enthusiasm, Taehyun merely shakes his head as his focus returns to the piece of paper in front of him, scribbling down a few lines before he sighs; “and how exactly do you plan on doing that?” 

The way your face lit up was unmistakable and you could practically see him regret his words as you shuffled closer. “Well, I happen to have a plan–” But before you can finish, the classroom door swings open and your professor enters. With a small scowl, you lean back in your chair as Taehyun immediately disregards you, turning his full attention to the lecture about to take place. Jeez, what a try-hard.

History was far from your favorite, but the mention of a group project sparked your interest. Your professor was old, a tall and lanky man, and as he announced the presentation you were to hold regarding a historic event, the class groaned. — Immediately turning to Taehyun with hopeful eyes, you’re met with a small glare before he sighs and nods, announcing that the two of you could partner up. With delight you open your mouth to thank him when your history teacher’s raspy voice suddenly interrupts you. 

“Though seeing as your parallel class is taking the very same course, I thought it’d be a good idea to merge the two of you. – It’ll save me some time when grading as well”, he huffs as a small grin tugs at his wrinkled lips. — It doesn’t take long for the room to be drowned in a chaotic murmur. Your brows pull together in a confused frown and you twist in your seat, “what’s that supposed to mean?” — Taehyun merely shrugs as his eyes flicker between you and your professor by the board, and for once he seemed equally lost. 

A quiet cough makes your gaze snap back to your old teacher as he rummages through his bag for a small piece of paper. “Now I know you aren’t too acquainted with the other class, so I’ve taken the liberty of pre-arranging partners for you.” His statement is met with another wave of complaints and displeased groans as students leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads. 

“Wait, does this mean we won’t get to work together?” You wonder to which Taehyun gives a small nod, “most likely.” — You felt your heart drop at least ten floors as you watched your old teacher fasten the small piece of paper to the board. The sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor fills the classroom as everyone scurries toward the front, eager to see who they’d been partnered up with. 

Without thinking you, too, rise from your desk as you pull Taehyun by his arm, yanking him toward the board. It takes a few shoves to get through the crowd that had formed, but soon enough, you’re standing in front of the list. — Your eyes fervently scan the names, going over the rows at least twice before you find yours. It was as if all air had been sucked from your lungs, your throat uncomfortably dry as you eye the jagged scribbles. Next to your own name was ‘Choi Beomgyu’. 

Behind you, Taehyun lets out a short huff, his lips pulling into a menacing smirk as he eyes your expression. — “Was this also part of your ‘plan’?” 

⸝⸝

“I’m doomed!” You exclaim, hands feverishly tugging at your hair as you cling onto Taehyun’s shoulder. Met with a shrug from your friend who trudges forward, you pout, jutting your chin out as you whine in his ear. “What do I do?” — Taehyun sighs, pushing his glasses further up on his nose as his eyes scan the nearly empty hallway. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t have gotten on his bad side”, he scolds and you huff. 

“Come on now”, you mutter as you release your grip on him, “a rumor here and there has never hurt anyone.” — “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be taking my side?” You finish with a small frown, the crease on your forehead only deepening when he doesn’t say anything. “You told everyone that he threw up in one of the school bathrooms”, he then states and you snort, a small grin seeping onto your face. “So? He might’ve.” 

Taehyun shakes his head, “my point is, you’re already off to a bad start.” — His statement makes you slow down, the shift in your pace causing him to nearly stop as Taehyun turns to you with a confused look. “You’re talking as if I’m the one who should watch myself. – Tae, he’s an asshole, if anything, he should feel ashamed.” 

Your friend bites his lip as his gaze flits between the floor to the books in his hands, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. Choi Beomgyu had earned himself quite the infamous reputation at your college along with the other Choi’s, everyone knew that they were bad news, so why did no one speak against it? — Why did Taehyun cower at the name? 

You couldn’t possibly understand their unreasonable fear. 

But you don’t have to ponder for long, because mere moments later, an all too familiar voice calls out. — “Hey, class president!” Beomgyu’s nasty drawl echoes off the desolate walls as he nears you. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his expensive uniform, and he walks with an allude of confidence. 

Upon hearing his name called, Taehyun freezes beside you as he hesitantly turns to face the source of the voice. Stopping mere inches from your friend, Beomgyu leans forward with a smug smirk and Taehyun hastily blinks under his glasses. You watch their small exchange with a puzzled expression. — “You got my essay?” Beomgyu asks as he quirks a brow in the shorter male's direction. His essay? 

Taehyun nods as he reaches for the bag swung over his shoulder, undoing the zipper as he rummages through its contents. Beomgyu watches him with a look of nonchalance, seemingly unaware of your presence as he focuses on your friend before him. — “Here”, Taehyun murmurs as he hands him at least four pages worth of paper, neatly stapled together. 

Beomgyu scans through it leisurely before giving Taehyun’s shoulder a harsh pat, making the shorter wince. “What’s the meaning of this?” You spit, unable to help yourself as you witnessed the person you so loathed go after your only friend like that. Finally, he seems to acknowledge you as Beomgyu’s eyes snap in your direction, his hand falling from Taehyun’s shoulder as his face contorts into a small scowl. 

Despite the lack of his friends, he still made do with the reputation he had left. Your rumors seemed to have made an insignificant dent in the power he held. But…Taehyun? Of all people, he wouldn’t possibly… Your gaze flits down to the essay in Beomgyu’s hand and over to your friend who avoided your gaze as he urged for you to come with him without causing a bigger scene. 

“Why don’t you stay out of my business.” Beomgyu sneers as he eyes you with distaste. “Business? You call this business?” You frown as you shrug Taehyun’s hands from your arm, stepping between your friend and the menace before him. — Your nose could practically graze his as you let out a short breath of air, meeting his furious gaze with one of your own. 

“Bullying people into doing your work? How do you expect to make it outside of college?” The comment makes his already angered expression flare up and you catch his hands curling into fists by his sides. — “Worry ‘bout yourself won’t you?” he scoffs, ready to push past you.. until your next words catch him off guard. 

“Well that’s going to be difficult, seeing as we’re partners now.” 

He stops, dark eyes snapping back to yours within milliseconds and you feel Taehyun’s hand urgently tug at your arm as he silently pleads for you to back down. — “What?” The word comes out as a mere hiss and you can’t help but feel a triumphant grin pull at the corner of your lips. Ah, so he didn’t know yet. 

“Haven’t you heard?” — You let your head fall to the side, an amused expression flashing across your features as you take in his puzzled and angered state, so predictable. “Mr. Brown’s class, the history project, we’re partners, you and me.” The dread that had previously consumed you seemed minimal when you with satisfaction watched Beomgyu’s face practically explode in a multitude of enraged questions; none of which you were planning on answering. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He spits, a look of disbelief presenting itself across his otherwise arrogant face. You shrug, letting Taehyun pull you back as you send him a small wave, “that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other I suppose.” — Before you can get another word out, your friend has pulled you down the hall in a most hurried manner; scurrying to get away from Beomgyu's piercing gaze as he leans against the wall with a small huff, eyeing you with a mixture of fury and intrigue. 

“What the hell was that?” Taehyun grumbles as he drags you along, walking with determined strides. You merely roll your eyes as you let yourself be swayed down the long corridors. — “I should be asking you that”, you counter, still not over the fact that he had written an entire essay for the scumbag. 

Not late to catch on, Taehyun bites the inside of his cheek as he fiddles with the glasses on his nose. “Nothing you should worry about”, he mutters, intent on disregarding any further questions. “Nothing I should worry about? What are you, his slave?” — “Don’t say it like that”, he groans and you frown, stopping completely as you break yourself free from his grasp. 

With an exasperated sigh, Taehyun turns to you as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Listen, it was a one time thing and..” — “That’s how it always starts”, you huff, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Soon he’ll be asking you to write his exams for him as well”, you exclaim, throwing an accusing finger down the hall. 

But Taehyun only shakes his head as he waves his hands in front of him in denial. “I’m just helping him out..!” — Your gaze narrows down on your friend, helping him out? Sure Taehyun was many things, friendly? – was not one of them. And to think that he was willingly helping one of the Choi’s with something so trivial… 

“Does he have something on you?” You ask, watching as Taehyun’s eyes widened, “is that why you’re slaving away like this?” — “No I..” He begins but quickly seals his lips in a tight grimace, “you don’t understand.” Like hell you didn’t. Why on earth would anyone stoop to such a level. For over two years you had watched as the Choi’s ruled your school, and to say that you were sick of it would be an understatement. 

Perhaps your hatred for the small trio was rooted deeper than your peers. Especially your hatred for Choi Beomgyu. — Because you hadn’t always hated him, in fact, at one point, you think you might’ve even liked him. 

⸝⸝ 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” 

The voice is warm, kind and friendly. It makes you blink as you tear your gaze from the small pile of nail polish that had accumulated on your desk, your nervous habit of picking at the paint evident. — First day of freshman year, first day of college, that had been the day. 

With a small nod, you motion toward the chair next to your own. He takes the seat, grinning from ear to ear as he studies you with curiosity. “Nervous?” He wonders as he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah..” Your quiet whisper is near inaudible but he still seems to pick up on it as his lips stretch further. “Me too”, he says and you can’t help but frown, he didn’t look nervous in the slightest as he comfortably leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt leisurely. 

He was way out of your league. — Yet he reaches a hand out, eyes darting from yours and down to your own intertwined fingers. His palm is soft and warm against yours, his grip unwavering as he shakes your hand. “I’m Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu”, he smiles, it’s a kind smile, and your heart flutters at the sight. 

Choi Beomgyu. What a pretty name. 

You spend your first week with him, it was nice to have someone you could call a friend. Someone who made you feel less alone, and Beomgyu did, the two of you were friends, you think. 

You ate lunch together… 

“Tofu’s the best when grilled”, Beomgyu hums as he shoves a forkful in his mouth, barely swallowing as he loads yet another one. You giggled as your gaze returned to your own plate, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The cafeteria was both crowded and loud, you had dreaded the days you would spend alone in here. 

But as Beomgyu found a nice and secluded table for the two of you, even pulling your chair out with an over exaggerated bow to which you rolled your eyes, you felt hopeful. — Perhaps college wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

And you studied after school…

“If 9 is the value of ‘x’ then all we have to do is replace the variables with such”, you say as you scribble across his notebook. Beomgyu’s frown was nearly dented into his forehead, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. “But how does nine become ‘x’? Isn’t nine a number and ‘x’ a letter?”He wonders to which you shake your head. 

“Not in this case”, you state before drawing a small ‘x = 9’. Scratching the back of his neck dumbfoundedly, Beomgyu gives a deflated sigh as he slumps against his chair. — “I’m never graduating.” 

You even saw one another outside of school…though only once.. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here..” You quietly mumble, eyes flitting across the expensive looking furniture. The restaurant was small but reeked of wealth, the meals here were surely out of your budget but Beomgyu had insisted on you joining him one friday evening. — “What?” He exclaims in bewilderment, “Are you kidding? This is the best place in town!” 

True to his word, he paid for your meal, not hearing you out on trying to pay him back in the near future. — “Spending time with you is more than enough”, he says as a matter-of-factly, arm wrapping around your shoulders as you walk down the empty streets. 

Not to forget that one time he’d asked for your number… 

“I mean it’s just… I think you’re cool and..” He clears his throat, sending you a sheepish smile before continuing. “Just y’know, for staying in touch and things..” — The timidness of his request made your heart flutter as a grin spread across your lips. 

“Of course I’ll give you my number, silly!” 

The relief immediately flooding his face was palpable as he sighs, eagerly fishing his phone up for you to put the digits in. He made sure to add a pink heart next to your name, promising to be at your every beck and call should you ever need him. 

It was friendship, right? 

Doing stuff together, noticing things about each other, like the cute little mole on his left cheek, accentuating his already endearing grin. Or his habit of pushing his hair from his face with the help of his pinky, carefully touching up the dark strands, almost absentmindedly. 

You wondered if Beomgyu noticed things about you too. Did he see things you didn’t, and did he like them? Did he like you? Perhaps you would’ve gotten answers to all of those questions, had things turned out differently. 

It was inevitable, of course, you were all enrolled in the same class after all, they were bound to bump into one another soon enough. But things changed when Beomgyu met Choi Yeonjun, changed for the worse. And it didn’t take long for him to become someone completely different, someone unrecognizable. 

Slowly he stopped showing up to your study sessions. More often he’d make excuses to not walk you to class. You began eating lunch alone, and before you knew it, Beomgyu was no longer part of your life. — Except he was, just as someone else. Someone cruel, someone who didn't care about what others felt, someone who only lived to make others suffer. 

His new friends were no different, and together they earned themselves an infamous reputation as the school’s bullies. It hurt. Seeing them act so nonchalantly when toying with others, with people who’d done nothing to upset them. — And as you catch him in the hallway one day, a much smaller student hoisted up by the collar of his shirt, Beomgyu’s grip unwavering as he spits insults in the younger’s face. 

It was then you grew to loathe Choi Beomgyu. 

⸝⸝ 

Your finger hovers over the block button as you lay in bed that night. Back then, just as you applied to switch classes, as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, you had rid yourself of his number too. Part of you thinks you should’ve deleted the old chats along with blocking him, but something held you back. It felt…oddly comforting, re-reading the old messages between the two of you, a glimmer of what you’d once had, of what he’d once been. How pathetic. 

With a small groan you let your phone fall down onto the mattress next to you, shifting to lay on your side as you prepare to let sleep overtake you. He would have to bring it up, because there was no way in hell that you were unblocking and texting first. — “Fucking piece of shit”, you tiredly murmur, letting yourself fall into a very uncomfortable slumber, plagued by the thoughts of your upcoming weeks. 

Beomgyu did not text you first. In fact he didn’t text you at all. The whole weekend goes by, and not a single word. Taehyun on the other hand, had been paired up with some stuck up bitch, he’d told you her name, something on M…M, M, M… Ah yes, Mimi. She’d dated one of the Choi’s, until he left her for that shy nerd, served her right. — But even the two of them had already gotten together to get working on their presentation. 

You had until Christmas break, but that was a mere three weeks away, and at this rate, you’d be lucky to get done by graduation. — Finally, your gloomy reality sets in, and you heave a loud sigh as you drag yourself down the hallway. History classes had become optional, and without your partner, there was little to be done. You spend the hour roaming the third and second floor, sneakers squeaking against the uneven tiles. 

Upon passing that one peculiar little red door, your ears are met with the muffled sounds of what could only be someone getting their guts absolutely plowed. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, ‘room 291’, you could only imagine how many girls had lost their virginity in there. — Shaking your head, your gaze returns forward, but instead of continuing your eternal journey down the long corridors, you freeze. 

The object of your affection was standing right there. You thought he’d skipped. Anything to avoid the project at hand you’d supposed. But Beomgyu’s eyes meet yours, and though he’s all the way down the hall, you still catch the disgust lingering in them. His lip twitches, jaw clenching for a split second, and then he’s turned on his heel, marching down the hallway faster than you could blink. 

You scramble to catch up, upping your pace to a light jog as you call for him. “Hey asshole!” But he isn’t listening, nor is he stopping. In fact…Was he walking even faster? What a dick. “Hey wait up!” Fuck, was he really going to make you chase after him? How immature. — Thankfully having made the girl’s football team in seventh grade seemed to have paid off, and you managed to reach him soon enough. 

Fingers clasping around his forearm, you yank him backward, making him spin around on the spot as he collides with you. The crash makes you wince and you retreat, blinking to regain focus before turning your attention to him. Beomgyu was already watching you, his lips curled into a nasty scowl as his brows furrowed. “What?” He spits, his voice barely above a hiss.

Suddenly, you realize just how close the two of you were standing, chests nearly grazing one another, and the scent of his cologne invades your senses; it was the same one he’d worn for all of college, at least that hadn’t changed. — You clear your throat, quickly scanning the empty hallway before you turn to him, plastering on the sternest of expression you could muster. “The project”, you say, subtly straightening your back. Beomgyu raises a questioning brow as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform.

You frown, and only when you add the word “history” does he seem to catch on. “Oh yeah, that one”, his features relax, lips pulling into a small grin, “how’s it coming along?” Your mouth opens and closes again. “Excuse me?” You huff, the anger in your words palpable. Still running with his act of obliviousness, Beomgyu shrugs, it was clear that he enjoyed the easy rise he was getting out of you. How you would practically explode over his mere existence. You think he liked making you like that, perhaps it made him feel in control. 

Well he wasn’t. Not anymore. 

“It’s a group project”, you state, folding your arms across your chest, “there’s no way I’m doing this alone.” — Beomgyu looks almost as if he's considering your words, his lips pursed and head tilted to the side. “So ask your little friend to tag along, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to”, he jeers, flashing you a nasty smirk. Was he talking about Taehyun? Your Taehyun. The same Taehyun that he’d made write his essay. 

Your feet move on their own as you take a quick step forward, jabbing an accusing finger to his chest and Beomgyu’s face contorts into a small scowl at the action. “You’re hilarious if you honestly think I’d let you off the hook this easy, that I’d just let you sit back and take credit for my hard work.” You move to shove him backward but his hand is already clasped around your wrist, restraining any movement. 

“Get your fucking hands off of me”, he spits, yanking you from his chest with a force that was near bruising. — “Why? Scared that I’ll dirty your expensive attire with my grimy hands?” You retort as you gesture toward his clothes. Beomgyu sneers as he shakes his head, his long hair falling in front of his face before he pushes it back again. “You’ve already tarnished my reputation with that dirty mouth of yours”, he barks, eyes flickering with malice, “got nothin’ better to do than spreading shit about me, do you?” 

He shifts on the spot, his gaze wandering down the hall briefly, as if checking for witnesses before his attention returns to you. “I’m not stupid, I know it’s you, and I know you’re behind this whole group project too.” — Woah there, way to get ahead of himself. You scoff, arms falling to your sides as you regard him with disbelief. “You think I set this up on purpose? As if I’d want to be anywhere near you-”

 “Well you sure act like it”, he cuts you off, gesturing toward the two of you and the empty hallway you were currently occupying. “Chasing after me like this, trying to get me alone, and the rumors”, his face flashes with something akin to contempt, a spark of his usually crude and mean demeanor simmering through his facade of hate. “I mean come on, it’s obvious.” 

Your jaw could practically sweep the floor at this rate and you almost wanted to laugh at the near comical situation. “Whatever it is you’re implying, I can assure you, you’re way off”, you huff, quick to defend yourself. His fingers are still locked around your wrist, an almost tingling sensation spreading through your arm. Upon trying to tug yourself free from his grasp, Beomgyu’s hand only tightens around yours, dark eyes boring into your own as he scoffs: “Cut the crap. You’ve been chasing after me for years.” 

The blunt accusation makes you pause, and for a moment every single comprehensive thought completely evaporates from your head. Chasing after him? No. You’d been trying to make his life a living hell, so what if that included knowing his entire schedule and who he hung out with? It was all part of a much bigger picture, a picture his tiny brain failed to comprehend. — But then again, Beomgyu had always had an ego made out of steel. It wouldn’t be the first time he would twist and turn a situation entirely in his favor. 

“What’s it that loser friend of yours said? To let me go?” He chuckles, warm breath hitting your already flaring face. How did he know about that? Just how much had Taehyun told him when doing his essay? — Your usually sharp mind can’t seem to conjure a single witty remark, and you’re left biting the inside of your cheek as you send him a bitter glare. 

His hand lets go of your wrist, and Beomgyu takes a step back. “Perhaps you should listen to Mr. Class Pres, it might do you good.” With a final cruel smirk, he shoves past you, shoulder slamming against yours as he ventures down the hallway with his hands leisurely stuffed into his pockets. 

You want to scream, throw something at him, possibly advocate for murder, but you do nothing, nothing but watch his retreating figure as he disappears down the corridor. Fucking asshole. 

⸝⸝

That night left you in a flammable state. Anger gnawed at your very being as you paced the small space of your dormitory. Who was he to speak to you like that? And how would you ever make this project work? Talking to him was useless, a complete and utter waste of time. — Then it hits you. Like a small lightbulb being turned on over your head. Talking to him was pointless, you knew that. But what if you just didn’t speak? 

The cafeteria is as packed as it could get that following Tuesday, and you have to paddle through the large ocean of students, all eager to find an empty seat. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less for today’s plain lunch menu, and instead of searching a clear table, your eyes scan for the most crowded one. 

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. Surrounded by a heap of what you could only assume to be acquaintances, Beomgyu sits perched on a table in the center of the room. Conversation flows around him but his gaze is glued to his phone in his hand, mindlessly swiping across the screen in a bored manner. You wondered if he even knew the names of those surrounding him. You guessed not. Beomgyu had a.. unique way of making friends, if friends were even what they were. They looked more like tokens, perhaps he used them to appear less alone. 

His attention suddenly shifts from the device in his hands and you follow its direction, eventually landing on a table not far from his. — Occupied sparsely by a mere three students, three students whom you easily recognized. Choi Yeonjun leans forward, his arm wrapped around a girl you recognized as his girlfriend. He looks to be in deep conversation with the third of their small party, Choi Soobin. 

They used to be friends, Beomgyu and them. You remember it clearly. The harsh words, the glares, the distaste on their faces whenever they passed you by in the hallway. But something had obviously happened, a small rift in an otherwise unbreakable circle. And you’re not late to pick up on the way Beomgyu continues to glance their way, even when surrounded by at least a dozen others. You recognize the look in his eyes, the longing. It was the same way you’d been looking at him for the past two years. 

Perhaps he had a weakness after all. 

Your fist slams against the firm surface of his table, making everyone around you snap their heads in your direction. Their eyes boring into you suddenly made you waver, but you shake it off, turning your attention to your target, now only inches from yourself. — Beomgyu glances up from his phone, brows immediately furrowing as his lips part. Surely he had an insult waiting on his tongue, but you cut to the chase by shoving a small piece of paper in his free hand. 

His confused gaze flickers down to the note as he begins unwrapping it, only to be stopped by your hand on his as you shake your head. You mouth the words “not here”, and he scoffs, though shoving the paper in his pocket. — His token friends all burst out into “oooo”s as they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively. 

Beomgyu pays them little mind as he rolls his eyes, instead he watches your retreating figure as you push past the crowd in which you had emerged from. A subtle smirk playing on his lips as he mindlessly fiddles with the note in his pocket. 

⸝⸝

You had no idea if your plan was even going to work. Would he show up? Or had he thrown the paper in the trash at the first opportunity he got? — Running a frustrated hand through your hair, you sigh, casting a quick glance at the time on your phone, 5:27 pm. He still had three minutes. 

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you start to reconsider the choice of bringing him to your dorm room, was it really such a good idea? Though it was hardly like he’d show up anywhere in public with you. This was your best bet, you think.. 

The minutes tick by and your anxiety levels only rise, heart hammering in your chest as you pace the small space of your dormitory. By 5:47 you realized that he was a no-show. A weird mixture of disappointed relief floods you, it’s strange, you had expected the disappointment but why did you feel relieved? Did the idea of spending time alone with him scare you? No. That was impossible. 

Flopping down onto your bed, you emit a small sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you replay today’s scenario in your head. Scared? What a joke, Beomgyu didn’t scare you, he was nothing but an immature, selfish, rude piece of–

Knock knock. 

Your body jolts forward, flying off the bed like a deer in headlight as your head snaps in the direction of your door. He came? He actually came. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh as you gingerly got up. — As you head for the door, you stop by the small mirror by your clothes drawer to check your reflection. Quickly running a hand through your hair, your eyes scan for a lip balm. You catch yourself mid-act, almost cringing at the way you tried to appear presentable. What the fuck were you doing?

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you twist the handle as the door glides open, revealing no other than Choi Beomgyu on the other side. He’s still wearing his school uniform, and his gaze quickly lands on the loose t-shirt and plain sweatpants you’re dressed in, a glimmer of distaste overshadowing his otherwise expressionless face. You ignore the silent insult as you clear your throat, “You’re late.” 

Beomgyu scoffs, his eyes darting down the hall either side of him before pushing past you as he steps inside. “You’re gonna nag me about that too?” He drawls, hands digging into his pockets as he saunters about, taking in the small space you resided in. You notice that he hasn’t brought along any study materials, and you internally groan. “Yes, I am. If this is going to work out then we’re going to have to work together”, you state, folding your arms across your chest as if to prove your point. 

Your partner merely hums as he fiddles with the papers scattered across your desk. “Cute room you’ve got”, he comments as he points to the entirety of your dorm. Your jaw slacks as you blink dumbfoundedly. Did he just give you a compliment? No, you catch the smugness in his voice, and the small glimpse of a smirk as he turns back to your desk. Asshole. 

“I’m serious”, you huff, “this project is important to me, we need to do well on it.” One thing you couldn’t afford to screw up were your grades. Not that they were anything spectacular of the sort, in fact you were flunking French. But as long as you did well in a few of your best subjects… History being one of them. 

Shoving the pen he was previously twirling between his fingers back into its container, Beomgyu turns to you with a sneer. “If it’s so important then I reckon you’d do better by yourself, I might just slow you down.” He regards you with an apathetic expression, almost as if he was waiting for you to snap, to lash out on him and to yell. You suppose it must surprise him when you instead only shake your head, dragging yourself over to your bed as you flop down with a heavy thud. 

“Let’s just get started”, you mutter, pulling your computer out as you power it on. Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction but doesn’t say anything as he leans onto your desk, hands returning to their default position in his pockets. — “How about one of us gathers information and the other one writes it down onto a powerpoint?” you suggest. He looks to be considering your words as he scratches his chin thoughtfully. 

“Fairs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself off the table and before you know it, the mattress dips next to you as he sits down. Your whole body tenses up, your eyes remaining glued to the computer screen in front of you as you avoid as much as peeking his way. You weren’t scared of him. But a part of you felt so oddly on-edge whenever he was around, you couldn’t quite place the feeling. 

His body radiates warmth, a warmth that spreads over to your own, a bead of sweat accumulating on your forehead as you swallow. You weren’t scared of him so why did your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest? — The smell of his expensive cologne, usually sickly strong as it tickles your nose, now only feels nostalgic as you breathe in. He’s so close that your hands are on the verge of touching, his pinky inches from yours. 

Beomgyu on the other hand seems unfazed as he peers over at your screen. “I’ll do the research part”, he states as he leans back against the headboard, “sounds less demanding.” You silently exhale in relief as he creates a safe radius of distance between the two of you, nodding as you hum in response. 

The two of you work like that, side by side in silence for a good while. At first you’re so engrossed in your work, doing anything to distract yourself from the fact that Beomgyu was quite literally less than three inches away, on your bed, in your dorm. But as time goes by, you finally dare to tear your gaze from the screen in front of you, and sneak a small peek at him. 

It felt almost surreal. Two years of being strangers in the halls, two years of constant insults, two years of hatred. Yet here he was, so close to you, just like he had been before everything changed, before he changed. 

But now, the two of you were doing something so mundane together. 

Your gaze lingers on him, even though it probably shouldn’t. But you can’t help the way your eyes trail across his seemingly relaxed expression. From the small, almost unnoticeable, furrow of his brows, the subtle pout of his bottom lip and the natural flush of his cheeks. Your attention strays by his dark eyes as they move along the words on his screen when reads. If you tried really hard, you might’ve been able to forget about everything that had happened, if only for a few minutes. 

Maybe. Just maybe. 

Suddenly, you want to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his long and unkempt hair, feel the skin of his hand in yours. And you almost do. Until you remember. — Things weren’t like that anymore, they hadn’t been for over two years. You almost recoil at the slip of your thoughts; for having allowed yourself to fantasize like that when reality was far from it. The Beomgyu before you wasn’t the Beomgyu you knew back then. No. You didn’t know this Beomgyu, and it’s with a bittersweet taste in your mouth that you accept said fact. 

You think half an hour might’ve passed when you notice that something’s off. Thirty minutes of radio silence from his otherwise enthusiastic mouth. And as you peer over your shoulder, you find him leisurely swiping across his screen, eyes glued to something that looked far from the information he was supposed to gather. — “What’re you doing?” The question slips from your lips without you actually thinking it through. Beomgyu’s head turns in your direction and he watches you with an expression that said, ‘what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?’

“I thought we agreed on working on the project”, you say as you point a finger toward your open laptop. Beomgyu merely shrugs, his eyes flitting back to the phone in his hand. “I’ve done my part”, he sighs and your brows knit together in confusion. A small tap of your finger leads you to the first slide of your powerpoint, in which he’d copied and pasted in what could only be pages worth of information. 

Seemingly noting your flabbergast expression, Beomgyu huffs, “Why, you can’t expect me to seriously read all of that?” — “So you’re saying we should just cheat our way through it?” The disbelief in your voice is palpable but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it as he gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not cheating. The information is out there to be used, doesn’t say how to use it”, he states. You have to bite your tongue in order to not let your words slip as you stare back at the computer screen with a puzzled face. 

He did have somewhat of a point. But you’d rather die than admit that. Besides, his ways would surely land you a ‘barely passed’ at most. And you wouldn’t have that. — Grumbling out a quiet, “whatever”, you turn back to the powerpoint as you begin sorting through the paragraphs pasted in there. You quickly become immersed in your work, and fail to notice how Beomgyu discards his phone on the bed as he glances around your room with curious eyes. 

You swallow a groan as you re-read the same paragraph for a third time, seemingly unable to focus with him around. Perhaps he was right, perhaps you should’ve just bit into the lemon and done this project on your own. — “Fuck, you kept this?” Beomgyu’s almost taunting voice snaps you from the text you were so close to giving up on, and you turn to him with a confused frown. 

Though your eyes quickly widened as they landed on the bracelet Beomgyu was holding between two fingers. Suddenly your heart is racing and your breaths are coming in short. The already thick air feels even heavier and you emit a shaky exhale. The brown leather, interlaced with streaks of blue, immediately sends your mind to places you hadn’t allowed it to wander for nearly two years..

⸝⸝

“A friendship bracelet?” you question as you eye the small piece Beomgyu had just handed you. The fine leather felt expensive and you wondered just how much he’d spent on this. It was braided together with a thinner blue thread, the cold shade a stark contrast to the warm brown leather, and your thumb slowly traces its outline as you bring it to your face. 

Beomgyu coughs into his hand, shaking his head as he rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. “When you put it like that it sounds childish”, he mutters, the tip of his ears radiating a warm pink and you feel your lips tug into a grin at the sight. — “It’s more like..” He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze strays by the bracelet in your hands: 

“Like a piece of me.” 

Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes a step forward, reaching for the accessory as he plucks it from your fingers. “So that, in a way, I’ll always be with you”, he says as he wraps the leather around your wrist. — It’s impossible to refrain from smiling and your cheeks heat up as he carefully fastens the bracelet around your arm. — Then your curious eyes suddenly fall on the leather around his own wrist, a darker and cooler brown intertwined with a warm red. 

A weird and tingly sensation spreads throughout your stomach as you swallow. And before Beomgyu can withdraw his hand again, do you stop him, fingers clasping around his wrists as you bring them together. — The blues and the reds, they remind you of the friendship necklaces you wore back in elementary school. Two halves of a heart, a childish but sweet promise to be what makes the other one whole. 

Was it childish? Probably. But it was Beomgyu, and you found that you did not care for such matters when he was around. In fact, you think you might even like it. — No, you did like it. You liked everything Beomgyu did, you liked everything about him. And though you were too shy to even admit it to yourself, you probably liked him too. 

“It’s okay right?” 

His sudden question snaps you from your train of thought and you blink as your gaze returns to his warm eyes. He looks…nervous? You’d never seen him like that. Beomgyu was always so adamantly prideful, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him waver. But you decide that you like this side of him too, the bashful and almost cute one. 

“I love it.” And you do, you really do. You love it so much that you keep it even when he stops wearing his. Even when he no longer represented your other half. You keep it for two years, tucked inside the top drawer of your bedside table where it resides, waiting for the day where you might finally be able to look at it without bursting into tears. 

⸝⸝

“Where did you get that?” Your tone is harsh and snappy but it barely makes him flinch as Beomgyu leisurely twirls the bracelet between two fingers. — You reach for it, but you’re too slow, and can only helplessly watch as his whole fist envelops the leather. “I expected a lot from you, granted that you’re still running your mouth about me and all”, Beomgyu drawls as he leans back against the pillows. “But you even kept this piece of shit?” — “I mean come on, it’s pathetic.” 

His words stung. Pathetic? Did he really think of your time together as that? Did he think of you as that? Of course he did, you idiot, get that through your thick skull. You hate Beomgyu. One half-successful study session in the privacy of your dorm didn’t change that and it never would. 

He probably threw his out, it would make the most sense if he did. Perhaps you should’ve too. You switched classes, blocked his number, and avoided him as best as you could in the halls. So why had you kept that? Why did you cling to something so insignificant? Why did it bring you comfort to feel the cool leather against your palm? 

“Just give it back”, you groan as you meekly try and pry his closed fist open. Beomgyu looks as if he’s going to put up a fight, say something nasty back, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets you untangle the bracelet from his fingers, watching as you snatch it back before throwing it on your bedside table once more.  — An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you, weighing down like dark clouds on a previously sunny day. You wait for him to say something, but he never does. He only watches you with that nearly permanent half-smirk of his, brows tugged slightly upward as his eyes flicker across your flustered frame. 

“I think we’ve done enough for today.” The statement sounds monotone and gray as it falls from your lips. And even now, you expect a reply. Foolishly so, for Beomgyu merely shrugs, swinging his legs over the mattress as he gets up from your bed. — You don’t dare look up as he rounds your bed, your gaze stays by your discarded laptop. The sounds of his footsteps suddenly vanish and you carefully crank your head in the direction of your door. 

With one hand on the handle, Beomgyu looks back at you, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite decipher. His lips twitch into a full smirk, and for a moment, you think he might spit another insult on you. He doesn’t. — “See you in class, yeah?” Is all he says before twisting the doorknob and vanishing down the hall. 

And as the door slams shut behind him, you’re left in an unbearable silence. Carefully you reach for the bracelet, only to find it torn in half.  

⸝⸝

Beomgyu shows up to class after that. It takes you by surprise, and apparently everyone else too as heads turn in his direction when he pulls out the chair next to you. And though his work effort is minimal, he’s still there. You hate the satisfied feeling that blooms in your chest at the accomplishment. And you hate the fact that a small part of you has started looking forward to history class. But you would never tell him that, you would never tell anyone that, not even Taehyun… 

“Come on, it’s just one tiny little essay!” You complain in a distraught tone, dramatically kicking at a few stones on the road in front of you. The small rocks clash together as they roll down the gravel pathway that takes you around campus. — Taehyun squints against the bright sun that shone despite the cold December air. He shakes his head, exhaling a small cloud of condensation.  

“It’s less than fourteen days until Christmas break”, he argues as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of the large coat he wore. “Well that’s exactly why I need your help!” You whine, throwing your frozen hands in the air. — “With everything going on, you know the history project and all, I’m going to seriously flunk French at this point Tae..” You sigh, turning to him with the biggest eyes you could muster as you stick your bottom lip out into a pathetic pout. 

“Please Tae, isn’t that what friends do?” 

Taehyun merely spares you a quick side glance before his focus returns ahead. “You can’t pull the ‘friend card’ whenever you’re falling behind”, he huffs. Biting the inside of your cheek, you think of another way to persuade him. “But if we study together? Then I’m bound to learn!” You suddenly exclaim, causing Taehyun to flinch due to your unanticipated outburst. 

“Fine..” He begrudgingly agrees, though quickly groaning as you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you!” You cheer before carefully letting him go again. — It’s when you pull back that you notice the figure by the benches a few paces away. You frown, gaze narrowing down on its hunched posture. It was odd for any student to be outside between classes during the cold and harsh winter months, let alone sit perched on one of the usual summer hangout spots. 

“Who’s that?” You question, your footsteps coming to an abrupt halt on the rough gravel. Taehyun groans as he turns to see where you might be looking, a small noise of disapproval passing his lips. “No one important, let’s go back inside”, he says as he pulls you along once more. — But in the bright light of the early afternoon-sun, the black hair atop the lonesome shadow’s head seemed awfully familiar. 

“Is that…Beomgyu?” Your inquiry is met by yet another groan from your friend. Taehyun tsk’s as he shoots a sneer in the direction of the lonely figure. “Wouldn’t that be even more reason to go back inside?” — Despite his greatest efforts, you ignore him as you venture off the small path and over the grass. Taehyun calls out for you, conflicted as his gaze flits between you and the entrance not far away. 

With a small roll of your eyes, you stop to wave him over. But Taehyun promptly shakes his head. “Fine, then go on inside, I’ll be right with you”, you say as you readjust the bag on your shoulder. He looks puzzled for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line as he regards you with a concerned frown. “What are you going to do?” He asks, albeit somewhat hesitant. You merely smile, and though it didn’t quite reach your eyes, Taehyun chooses not to pry further when you say: “I’m just going to ask about the project.” — He gives a curt nod before disappearing down the graveled path, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.

Your footsteps crunch against the frosty grass and they fill the crisp winter air. The closer you get the more certain you become. It was Beomgyu. Sitting on the wooden table, his feet rest on the accompanied bench. He’s not wearing a jacket, only the blazer he had gotten personally tailored. If he was freezing, he didn’t let on to it as he remained still, his eyes focused on the ground below him. 

The real question was, why was he out here alone? Surely he should be spending the lunch break in the cafeteria with his friends, and not on a cold bench outside in the middle of the winter. — You stop in front of him, so close that your worn out shoes break the circuit of his limited vision. He knows that you’re there, you can tell by the subtle twitch of his jaw, and the way his fingers curl against one another as his hands mold together. 

“Hey.” 

You greet him. It’s polite, and when you think about it, you can’t recall ever uttering the word ‘hello’ to him, not for the past two years at least. It takes him a moment to finally look up, and when he does you immediately notice how sunken his eyes are, the almost grayish color of his cheeks and the pink tint to his nose. — He looked like shit. 

Part of you wants to say something about it, to finally jab back at him for all the crude comments he’d made about you. But you can’t. And suddenly, you don’t know what to say at all. Why had you even approached him in the first place? The two of you hadn’t spoken in private since… Well since the bracelet incident. Thankfully he had yet to bring it up again, but you didn’t know if you could trust him not to. It was already awkward between the two of you. 

Had you just made things worse? 

Beomgyu looks too tired to bite back himself as he lets his gaze leisurely drift across your frame. “What are you doing out here?” — Fuck, that wasn’t the question you were supposed to ask. Fucking idiot. But you couldn’t deny the curiosity that lingered around you. What was he doing out here? 

“That’s none of your business.” He spits, lips curling into a small scowl, but you can tell that it’s taking him a great deal of effort. And for some reason, you care. You hate that you do. Because you should feel anything but concern. You should be celebrating his downfall. This was what you had been waiting for. So why did it feel so bittersweet? 

You think it must have something to do with the afternoon spent on your bed. Almost an hour of complete silence, no bickering, no insults thrown. You blame yourself for getting too caught up in the moment. For letting yourself view him in a different light. — You hate Choi Beomgyu. And he hates you. That’s how it was supposed to be. 

When you don’t reply, he lifts his head once more. His eyes are dark, lifeless. He frowns, and for a second he looks almost irritated. “Why do you even care?” He grunts, a flicker of disgust tracing his features, as if the mere thought of sympathy from you was enough to have him gagging. It was nice. It felt familiar. It felt like the Beomgyu you knew. 

“I don’t.” You simply shrug, letting your bag fall from your shoulder as you heave yourself onto the bench next to him. He doesn’t move, but you can feel his gaze on you as he studies you intently. — You don’t dare look at him, instead you keep your eyes set forward. Despite the cold and chilly temperatures, snow had yet to fall. And the naked trees now only looked dystopian as you glance around the campus grounds. 

“Where are your friends?” You suddenly ask, the question coming out light, just like any other. You don’t expect an answer, not from him. In fact you’d prepared yourself for him to get up and leave. But he doesn’t. — Beomgyu is silent for a second, you hear him draw in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting go. “What friends?” He then says, and this time he actually sounds tired. 

Your stomach twists in an uncomfortable way, a way that was nowhere near satisfying. “What about the ones from the cafeteri..” — “Don’t be daft”, he cuts you off, his voice gaining a sudden sting. “You’re not stupid. Don’t pretend that you are. It’s unattractive.” He jeers, fingers twisting against one another, as if he was trying to crawl out of his own skin. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” He huffs, shuffling to the side as he creates a cold metaphorical wall of distance between the two of you. “To poke fun at me? To shove it in my face?” He sounds almost distressed, and before you can reply, he turns to you. “You think it hasn’t been already?” — For the first time since you approached, he’s looking entirely at you. And when you return his wide gaze, it feels like you’re looking at a shell of who he used to be. 

You tell yourself that it’s the cold air. That it’s the already depressing surroundings of the dying nature around you. But Beomgyu looks just as malnourished as the trees, as pale as the sky and as beat as the frozen grass you walk on. It was easy to take pity on him like that. It was almost like he was begging for it. Begging for someone to sympathize with him. You can’t imagine that anyone ever did. 

“That’s not why I’m here”, and your statement is true. You don’t know why you’d come here, but you knew that it wasn’t out of malice. Because even if you did hate Choi Beomgyu, you don’t think you could ever say it to his face. — He didn’t know that of course. Part of you wished he did. Beomgyu scoffs, his gaze returning to the frosty ground as he bites the inside of his cheek.

You’re scared that you might pity him forever. That things might never change. That the two of you might just be stuck in an eternal loop of hatred and unspoken feelings. — You don’t know what you want, but you know that it is not that. Perhaps this history project was the start you had been looking for. Maybe… 

“Are you free friday?” 

⸝⸝

Your study sessions became regular after that. Beomgyu appeared to have nothing better to do with his time, and to be frank, neither did you. And though you were far from friendly with one another, none of the insults lingered. You studied in silence, him by your desk and you on your bed, as far away from each other as you could get. It was quiet, so quiet that you sometimes forgot that he was even there, save for the occasional sigh or click of his tongue. 

At first, he would bring his phone, checking it every other second, like he hoped for something, for someone, to be there. But after four days, he stopped. And your curiosity only grew. 

Now a mere week remained until christmas break. You and Beomgyu had been studying together for the past six days, without fail. Your presentation was nearly completed, and part of you thinks this might be amongst your last sessions together, if not your very last. — It felt strange, almost melancholic. Would you miss him? Or would you miss the company? Taehyun was your friend, sure, at least that's what you called him. But as soon as the bell rang, as soon as class ended, it was only you again. 

So was it really so wrong to look forward to a bit of company after school? Even if said company was a grumpy and quiet Beomgyu who did his best in ignoring you whilst he was there. Maybe. — Maybe it was the slight urgency of losing the temporary comfort these quiet hours had provided you that led to the act of stupidity you were about to perform next. 

The sun had set hours ago, casting your room in a dim glow provided by the small lamps on your bedside table and desk. You and Beomgyu had been working quietly for the past while. Now that the information was gathered and all that remained was for you to edit the last paragraphs, he used his time to decorate the powerpoint, adding relevant pictures and messing with the fonts. It wasn’t hard work, but the fact that he did something, made your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way. 

“Are you busy next week?” You wanted to ask him if he would like to practice the presentation together. But Beomgyu kills your last glimmer of hope with a small huff, “Yeah.” He doesn’t turn to look at you, his eyes steadily fixed on the computer screen in front of him despite the fact that he was now only aimlessly flipping through the slides. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refrain from asking if he was busy all week. You would most likely only receive a half-hearted ‘yes’ anyway. Instead your gaze flickers down to your keyboard, your nails quietly tapping against the keys as you think of something to say. Every second spent in his presence only seemed to pull even more questions from your already curious mind. There was so much you wanted to ask him about, even though you knew it wasn’t your place. 

Just let him go. 

You can hear Taehyun’s voice in the back of your head, pleading for you to not pry, to keep your eyes down and mind your business. It wasn’t that easy. He didn’t understand. He didn't know. He didn’t know Beomgyu like you did, like you thought you did. 

“Are you sure you don’t have time to come by and practice?” You can’t stop yourself, the question slips out anyway, and you watch as Beomgyu’s shoulders tense before relaxing again. “I told you I’m busy”, he repeats in the same monotone and tired voice he’d been using for the past week. — “Right…” You hold your tongue, fingers brushing over the keys on your keyboard, hovering above the space button. Your lips part, then they close, and then they part again. 

“Are you meeting Yeonjun?” 

You shouldn’t have asked that, you know it. Yet you did. Perhaps you wanted a reaction from him, perhaps you wanted to hear him raise his voice for the first time in over a week, perhaps you wanted him to get angry, to insult you, because it was the Beomgyu you knew. 

His shoulders go rigid this time, and though you can’t see his expression, you can still catch the twitch of his jaw. He’s stopped swiping through the presentation slides, now stuck on the first one as he gazes ahead. For a minute, everything’s quiet, you think he might not say anything at all. But when he speaks up, he doesn’t raise his voice, instead he lowers it, until it’s nothing but a low drawl of his tongue. 

“You think this is funny?” The cold words send a shiver down your spine, and even though he isn’t looking at you, you felt as if you were being judged under a microscope. “I… I’m sorry..?” You squeak, your voice nearly inaudible but Beomgyu catches it. — He chuckles, pushing his chair back as he turns to you. 

The fiery brown in his eyes is long gone, replaced with an ashy looking color, like he was drained of all life. His lips, usually pulled into either a scowl or a menacing smirk, remain just as unreadable as the rest of his face. — “Do you enjoy this?” He asks, but it hardly sounds like a question. 

You gulp, fingers pressing so hard against the keyboard that you have managed to insert a whole paragraph of nonsense onto the powerpoint. Quietly shaking your head, you think of a way to salvage the toes you’d accidentally stepped on. “No I, I’m sorry…” You swallow once more, “I just…I don’t know what happened between you…I..” 

Beomgyu’s loud scoff cuts you off, and you watch as he gets up from the chair, kicking it back against the desk. With two long strides he reaches you by the edge of the bed. Though he was barely an inch or two taller than yourself, he somehow managed to appear menacing as he loomed over you. “Has it ever crossed your mind that it might not be any of your fucking business?” He says, his tone remaining indifferent as he glares down at you with those empty and dying eyes. 

You bite your tongue, refraining from intervening and saying that practically everyone at school knew it. Though you were sure he already knew that too. — Beomgyu huffs out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “Every single fucking day”, he mutters, his eyes narrowing as they linger by your slightly sheepish expression. “Every day, people like you, stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

The way he spoke, grouping you together with the other students, it shouldn’t have made your chest churn the way it did. “People like me?” You repeat the words, tasting them on your tongue, and finding that you don’t like them. Beomgyu, on the other hand, merely sends you a small look of distaste, the only emotion that had managed to pass his features in a whole week. 

“What? You think you’re something else?” He jeers, frowning when you get up from the bed, straightening your back as you come face to face with him. — “I know I am”, you say, forcing your voice to remain steady. You knew that you weren’t the only one who’s thoughts lingered in the past. You knew that he must still think of the two of you from time to time, even if only for a brief moment. 

Beomgyu finally seems to catch on, his brows rising on his forehead when he does. He looks like he’s about to burst into laughter, you think that he might. “Oh that’s right”, he muses, “You think you’re special because I was nice to you back then, because I took pity on you.” He pushes a strand of dark hair from his face with the help of his pinky, “Bet it was the first time something like that happened.” 

You didn’t want to admit that he was right, that it had been the first time someone had ever gone out of their way for you. That it had been the first time someone had ever gifted you something, apart from your own family, that it was the first time someone willingly sat with you during lunch. But your mind gets caught on that one word he’d used. Pity. 

Was that all it was to him? A game of play-pretend, a chance for him to play hero? You shake your head, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t. — For two years, you had blamed Choi Yeonjun. You had blamed him for taking Beomgyu away from you, for turning him into someone you couldn’t recognize, for ruining your only chance at an actual friendship, perhaps even something else. 

It was easy to blame Yeonjun, you didn't like him, you never had. But you could never bring yourself to actually blame Beomgyu himself, because that would mean he was a bad person, and you didn’t want him to be. You wanted him to remain the perfect version you had created in your head, the version you thought you liked. It became clear now, that he wasn’t. 

“You’re a liar.” 

You state, fingers twitching by your sides as you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Beomgyu’s expression morphs into one of confusion, then he scoffs. “A liar?” He asks, his voice hollow: “Do you hear yourself talk? You sound fucking crazy.” — “If you think for a second that what we have is different from any other piece of shit person in this school, you’re wrong.” He spits, eyes flaring up for the first time in so long, a small fire igniting within them. 

He continues to list reasons, reasons to hate you, reasons to hate him, reasons to hate everything. You weren't listening. All you see is his eyes, burning with rage, with life. 

It’s unexplainable, the feeling that surged in your chest, that pounds against your ribcage and pulls on your lungs as it sucks the air from them. And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes. 

You don’t know why you kissed him. 

But you did. 

And now it was too late to ever go back. — Though you're not sure you want to. 

His lips feel soft against yours, not that you had ever stopped to think about how it would ever feel. Yet this somehow seemed right. You don’t open your eyes to look at him, you don’t think you could bear that. Still, you’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately jerk backward, when he doesn’t push you away. — Beomgyu hesitates. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do.  

The moment lasts forever, and somehow it seems to have vanished within the blink of an eye. The bed squeaks when you crash against the mattress, you can still feel the flat of his palms on your shoulders as the force he’d used to shove you away from him lingered. 

When you peer up at him, you find him already watching you. The flames in his eyes seemed to burn even brighter now. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists by his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. — Your lips part, but no words come out. What was there to say? Sorry? But you weren’t. I hate you? But you didn’t. 

Beomgyu speaks before you get the chance to, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. “You’re fucking insane.” It’s all he says, not waiting for a response as he turns back to your desk. He shoves his laptop in his bag with such force that you thought its seams might break.

Then he heads for the door, reaching it in four long strides. He doesn’t turn to look at you, not like he had that day. He rips it open, ignoring the squeaking sound it made when he slammed it shut behind him. 

The silence that follows echoes through your small dorm. And you remain on your bed, motionless, staring ahead as your fingers reach up to touch your lips. — Still burning with the fire he’d igninited. 

⸝⸝

That night was a quiet one, your dorm room basked in the eerie glow of the moon. Nothing but the soft sounds of your hushed sobs filling the confined space. Your pillow is wet, stained with your tears as you cry into the cotton. It was pathetic, really. In fact, you didn’t even know why you were crying. — But as soon as the door had slammed shut, and you had been left alone with nothing but your lingering thoughts, everything had become too much to bear. 

The events of the past few weeks finally catching up to you, breaking the dam of pent of tears you’d been so carefully keeping at bay. It felt as if it would never stop. You didn’t know whether you felt humiliated, rejected or just straight up insulted. Part of you just felt stupid. What the fuck were you even thinking? Kissing him like that. The image itself makes you grimace, and with a heavy sigh you pull yourself into a sitting position. 

After fumbling in the dark for a few moments, your fingers manage to grasp your phone. The bright light of its screen blinds you, and you squint as you scroll through your ridiculously short contact list. — The line rings for almost a whole minute, all the while you anxiously bite on your short nails, chopping the last bits of green polish from your nail beds. And when he finally picks up, it’s silent, save for the deep breaths he emits as he waits for you to speak.

“Taehyun?” 

Your voice comes out a lot more hoarse and strained than you had anticipated, causing you to immediately clear your throat. Taehyun groans, and you hear him shift slightly as he mutters something incoherent. “Do you know what time it is?” He finally asks in a groggy, sleep-laced tone. A spark of guilt blooms in your chest, and you throw a quick glance toward the time on your phone, showing that it was well past midnight. 

“I’m sorry…I just”, you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Taehyun, it was just different. You and Taehyun were different. Part of you thinks he won’t understand, that he might judge you, no you know he will. Still, he was the only one you could turn to. — “Taehyun, I think I messed up.” 

He doesn’t answer right away, but you know he’s still there. You sit in silence for a while, just listening to his breaths, and for a moment you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. But then he speaks, this time he sounds more awake. — “How bad?” He asks, and somewhere in the background, you think you can make out a light being flicked on. 

“Really bad..” 

⸝⸝

You had never been to Taehyun’s house before. Two years of so called friendship and you would think that you’d progressed further. But as you heave the last step leading up from the subway, you stop in order to relocate yourself. The neighbourhood looked average, yet inviting. Its quaint little houses, lined up along the dimly lit street, all reflected one another. 

Number 14, that was the one you were looking for. Your worn out sneakers hit the asphalt with heavy thuds, and a small cloud forms when you exhale out into the cold December air. With your fingers stuffed deep in the pockets of your duvet jacket, you make a slight turn, coming face to face with house number 14. 

It looked just like the rest, a small mailbox by the fence gate, its white paint chipped in places. You push it open, stepping up the small graveled path taking you to the doorsteps. Taehyun told you not to ring the bell, but to quietly knock. He didn’t live alone, you knew that much. — He shared the small flat with one of the juniors, you think his name might be Kai. 

You knock once, proceeding to wrap your arms around yourself as you wait anxiously for him to open. It takes him a mere thirty seconds, and when the door swings aside, you're met with the still sleep-laced figure of Kang Taehyun. — He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of checkered sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the glasses he always wore nowhere to be seen. He looked far different like this, it takes you a moment to even recognize him. 

Your silence must’ve been unusual, because he soon cocks an eyebrow, stepping aside as he motions for you to get in.  

Taehyun’s place looks nothing like you’d imagined it. It was far messier. With clothes hanging off the kitchen chairs, lecture material spread over the round table and piles of books crowding the already small countertop. Still, he doesn't seem to mind the slight chaos as he reaches up to fetch two glasses from the cabinet, not saying anything as he fills them both with water from the tap. 

This eternal silence covers you both like a thick blanket, enveloping you in a false sense of ignorance, like the fact that you were currently in his kitchen, at 3am no less, was completely normal. — Taehyun remains quiet as he walks past you and into the joint living room, you trail behind him, eyes lingering on the discarded guitar that rested against the wall. 

The large green sofa takes up a good third of the room, and Taehyun sets your glasses down on the wooden coffee table in front of it as you take a seat. — “Do you play?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, not a ‘Hello, sorry for bothering you so late at night and barging into your home.” But you can’t help yourself, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Beomgyu, clearly remembering the day he’d told you about his love for music, no less the guitar. 

But Taehyun merely shrugs, and when he speaks, his voice is groggy. “Kai does.” The statement doesn’t leave room for further questions, and you thought it was probably wise to not bother him with more small talk. 

Reaching for the glass, your fingers wrap around its cold surface as you bring it to your lips. You sip slowly, prolonging the inevitable confession you were to make. And as the refreshing water slides down your incredibly dry throat, you sneak a glance in his direction. It felt odd, seeing Taehyun outside of school like this. 

Your gaze lingers on his bare arms, something his uniform never allowed even as much as a glimpse of. He leans against the soft cushion of the couch, mindlessly fiddling with a small string which you had no idea where he’d gotten it from. — It might’ve been the late hour, or the change of scenery, hell it might’ve even been the fact that you’d probably made the biggest mistake of your life not even eight hours ago. But had Taehyun always looked this… Good wasn’t the right word… At least you didn’t think it was. 

You suppose he looked… Ordinary. He looked far more relaxed than he ever did at campus, in class or in the cafeteria. This Taehyun resembles little of your class president, right now he just looks like, well him. 

“Why are you here?” His sudden question snaps you from your trance and your eyes immediately snap toward the water in your glass, the clear liquid swirling around slowly. Why were you here? Because you were alone, because you were scared, because you didn’t have anyone else to turn to. — “I… I messed up”, your deflated sigh rings out in the living room. 

Taehyun continues to fiddle with the small string, twisting it around his thumb. “The presentation?” He asks, but you can tell that was not what he’d actually meant. Still, you nod. “Well that one too, that’s for sure..” You didn’t even want to think about having to face him next Tuesday, much less going through with that presentation together, in front of everyone. 

“It’s about him, isn’t it?” 

The question was hardly needed, and you mumble out a quiet ‘yes’ as you set your glass down. Taehyun hums, his eyes trained to his hand. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Biting the inside of your cheek, you inhaled slowly. It was better to get it out right away, wasn’t it? Besides, there was no way you could sugarcoat it, no way for you to lie yourself out of this. You wanted to be honest with Taehyun, because it was easier to be honest with him than with yourself. 

“I kissed him.” 

There. You said it. So why didn’t the lump in your throat ease? Why did your chest still feel tight and your palms sweaty? Why couldn’t it all just go away, you did what you were supposed to, you confessed. Was that not enough? — Taehyun doesn’t look surprised. In fact he looks almost amused. As if he was betting with himself, ultimately ending up winning as you said what he’d already expected you to. 

“I think he hates me even more now. No - I know he does.” You can’t stop the words from flowing, all your pent up emotions rolling off your tongue in one swift motion. “I don’t think he’s ever going to talk to me again. And I’ll probably have to do the presentation alone. But I don’t reckon he’ll tell anybody, I’m sure he’s embarrassed about being associated with me. Fucking entitled asshole.” The last part comes out with slight distaste. 

“Don’t you agree?” You turn to Taehyun who’s been listening quietly. Finally, he glances up from the string he’s fiddling with. He sighs, “I think you should’ve stayed away from him just like I told you to.” — His words made your chest tighten even further, but they were not surprising. You knew what his response would be, you had known before you even picked up the phone to call him. Still, you did it. Because even if he told you what you’d already heard so many times before, it was something, and something was better than nothing. 

“Why did you do it?” You quietly ask him, your question coming out nearly inaudible. “Hm?” His dark eyes, the ones you used to watch behind the thick lens of his glasses, shift over to you. — “Why did you write his essay?” Your sudden change makes him pause, his fingers stilling around the thin thread he’d been twirling for the past minutes. Taehyun looks at you, but you can tell he’s not actually looking at you. 

“What do you mean?” It takes him almost a whole minute to reply. That had never happened before. Holding your tongue, you consider your next words carefully. You’d been wanting to ask him about that day in the hallway for so long now, it had been pestering you for weeks, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Because if it was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why someone like Taehyun, would do something like that, for someone like Beomgyu. 

“Does he have something on you? Is he bullying you?” 

Taehyun shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he discards the thread between his fingers. “No”, he finally states, his voice firm. He was lying. He had to be, right? — “Then why?” You knew you were pushing far, too far, but you wanted, no, needed answers. But he only averts his gaze, his attention fixed on something far ahead. You try to follow his line of sight, your own eyes landing on the crowded bookshelves. 

Books. Your lip twitches at the sight of pages worth of study material. But as you survey the shelves closely, you find that they’re neatly organised, unlike the chaos that spread through the rest of the house. From different subjects, all neatly categorized, yet one book remained alone, separated from the rest. You didn’t recognize its cover. 

“Latin.” 

Taehyun’s thoughts seem to align perfectly with yours as he, too, eyes the lonesome book. “I didn’t know you took latin..” You murmur, still not tearing your gaze from the shelf. Beside you, Taehyun hums before going silent once more. That silence lingers for another thick and heavy minute. The darkness of his living room closing in on you, the sounds of your quiet breaths remaining the only signs of life. 

“Hardly anyone picks latin”, he then adds, nodding toward the book on the very edge of the shelf. You nod, even though you don’t exactly understand where he’s going with this. Taehyun sighs, and he sounds tired, “Picked it ‘cause I felt bad.” — “The professor would hardly have a class to teach this semester if it wasn’t for me.” 

You frown, shifting back to him as your lips part in an unspoken question. But Taehyun doesn’t need to look at you to know what goes on inside your head. — He shrugs, “You asked me why.” 

The silence that follows his last words did not feel as heavy as the others. It merely felt…confusing. Your gaze drops to your hands, placed neatly on your lap. Exhaling through your nose, you begin picking away at your already chipped nail polish, watching as the red flakes fell to your knees. Latin… He picked it out of pity? Not because he enjoyed it but because he felt bad? 

But what did Latin have to do with… 

“Did you want to do it?” Taehyun suddenly asks, and it felt weird, because he hardly asked questions about you, and especially not about Beomgyu. — The lump in your throat bounces back twice as big this time, and your fingers still. “Yes.” If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that. You wanted to kiss Choi Beomgyu, and you had.

“I don’t…” You begin but quickly trail off. Taehyun is patient. He waits for you to continue, he waits for two whole minutes, until finally, you say: “I don’t regret it.” — “And I wish I could tell him that.” 

Taehyun shifts on the green cushion, turning so that he’s now facing you. His gaze isn’t the narrowed and sharp one you’d grown so accustomed to. This one’s gentle, almost soft. — “So why haven’t you?” 

⸝⸝

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

The voice is sharp, and you think you might recognize it. It makes you halt, stopping just as you were about to round the corner taking you to the dormitories. With your back now pressed against the cool wall, you freeze, listening to the conversation taking place. You had mindlessly been returning to the place you called home after a long day of classes, when suddenly two arguing voices caught your attention. 

“My problem?”, Beomgyu spits, his tone harsh and defensive, “Fucking hell man, have you even seen yourself lately?” 

The other voice, which you now recognize as Yeonjun's, cuts back with an equal bite. “Oh come on, just admit that you have something against her. – It’s not like you’ve ever tried to hide it.”

Beomgyu remains quiet, the air feeling dense and heavy with unspoken feelings. “I don’t have anything against her.” He pauses and you wonder what his face might look like right now, furious, deflated? He exhales, “It’s you, okay? You’re the issue here.” 

You could almost hear the surprise as it radiated off of Yeonjun, and you manage to get a glimpse of one of his arms as he shifts on the spot. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He sounds confused, agitated almost. 

“It means..” Beomgyu begins, though quickly cutting himself short as he inhales. “It means you’ve changed, alright. — And I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you but you..” He trails off, the frustration at not being able to say what he wants, what he feels, is palpable and you shift uncomfortably against the wall as you hold your breath. 

Yeonjun scoffs, it sounds almost like laughter. “Oh, so I get a girlfriend and suddenly can’t hang anymore?” — “Yes.” Beomgyu immediately responds. “You and that fucking good for nothing ner-” 

Thud. 

It sounds almost as if one of them had shoved the other against the wall and your eyes widened as you resist the urge to take just a single step forward, to round the corner and see for yourself. — Yeonjun is the first to speak. “You fucking watch your mouth!” He snarls and you can make out Beomgyu’s low groan as he splutters against what you presumed to be Yeonjun’s chokehold on him.

“Or what?” He counters in a strained voice, the teasing edge evident, the one he used to mask how hurt he was.

The sound of Yeonjun’s fist connecting with what could only be Beomgyu’s face echoes through the otherwise empty hallway and your heart drops to your stomach. But Beomgyu merely chuckles. “She ruined everything”, he grumbles, merely adding fuel to the fire. 

“Shut your mouth.” 

Beomgyu snickers, and Yeonjun’s frustration bounces off the walls. You’d heard enough, and you certainly weren’t going to risk staying and ending up in the middle of it. So you turn around, and just as quickly as you had come, you retreat again. 

⸝⸝ 

You nervously pace your room, mumbling the words to yourself over and over, trying your hardest to memorize them. It had dawned on you that you would be doing this alone, and now what remained was to learn everything. But no matter how many times you circled your bed, you always found yourself off track, needing to double check your laptop over and over. 

You were slowly becoming desperate. Nothing seemed to work in your favor. — You curse yourself for letting your feelings get the better of you. For being naive, for thinking that he actually felt something, anything for you. Had you just restrained yourself, had you just held back… You wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

Anxiously gnawing on your nails, your teeth scrape their beds as you re-read the paragraphs written on the powerpoint for the fifthteenth time. The sentences had started to blur, the words merging with one another slowly. — You shake your head, willing yourself to stay focused, to not let your emotions get the better of you, again. 

But then there it is. A loud, almost frantic, knock at your door. — Knock! Knock! 

Your head jerks in its direction, the presentation long forgotten about as your eyes narrow on the dark oak. You throw a glance at the time, 8:29 pm, what could anyone possibly want you at this hour? — But the knocking persists. 

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

It’s loud, flaring like thunder through your dormitory and it makes you jump. Naturally, you do the only thing that comes to mind; you approach, with both curious and wary steps. Your hesitant hand reaches for the handle, the other one twisting the lock as you pull the door open. — The sight that greets you on the other side is nothing you could’ve ever imagined. 

Beomgyu looks even worse than he had a week ago. The bags under his eyes were a permanent look now, dark and sunken in. His long hair falls in uneven sections down the sides of his face, a few strands sticking to his forehead, covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Even his expensive uniform was messed up, tie hanging loosely around his neck and his white shirt torn by the seams. 

You can only make out half his face, the rest shielded by his unkempt and dark hair. But what stood out was the large and angry bruise covering his cheek. Its blue and purple hues were a stark contrast to his honey-like skin. You knew where he’d gotten that. His breaths come out ragged, shallow, like he’d ran here. Perhaps he had. Your lips part, but before you can get the question out, he’s barging inside, slamming the door shut behind him. — “Beomgyu what..” Your words fall short as he pushes his hair from his face, revealing his dark eyes to you. 

They were burning with the same fire they had been that night, the night you kissed him. The flames dance across his bottomless irises. You think that if you got too close, you’d end up burning yourself. Another part of you thinks it’s too late to take cover. That you had already walked inside and sealed the door shut behind you, and now you would burn with him. 

He takes a step forward, the fire drawing in closer and you squint against its flames. His chest heaves, it clouds your narrowed vision as he backs you up against the nearest wall. Something had happened, something had made him like this, because this was not the Beomgyu you knew. The Beomgyu you knew would be repulsed to even as much as near you, to even breathe the same circuit of air as you. 

He is not the Beomgyu you know. Because the Beomgyu you know would never kiss you. 

But this one does, and it’s without hesitating that his hands reach for your face, cupping both cheeks in his blazing hot palms as he brings your face to his. — Your eyes widen, alarm bells going off in your mind, screaming for you to push him back, to demand answers from him. So why don’t you? Why do you let him kiss you, why do you let him toy with you like this? 

Beomgyu did not like you. He hated you. That was a fact. Not because he’d said so himself, or because he treated you like he did. But because it was the reality you had been feeding yourself for so long. It put you at ease, knowing that he hated you, because if he did, then he at least felt something for you. You weren’t just another face in the halls, your time together wasn’t just a figment of his or your imagination, it had been real. The two of you were real, and the resentment and hate was a confirmation of just that. 

So when his lips press against yours, warm and wet, his tongue slips inside your mouth without waiting to hear your startled yelp.. The reality you had built for yourself suddenly starts to crumble. Everything was wrong, this was not how it was supposed to be. — You had allowed yourself a slip up last week, a moment of weakness. You had kissed him. For a brief, short and awfully painful moment you had let your own desires consume you. And you had paid the price. 

This time Beomgyu was acting on his desires, not yours. And that scared you. 

His chest is flush against yours, his grip on your face unwavering as he forces your lips to meet in a searing kiss. You don’t understand. You thought you had him all figured out, this wasn’t supposed to happen, why is he… — “Beomgyu, stop!” Your nails dig into his shoulders, tearing him off of you with all your might. He separates from you, if only an inch, the kiss coming to an abrupt stop as you’re left panting. 

His lips are coated in saliva, a small string connecting the two of you before it breaks just a second later. You barely recognize him. “What’s going on?” The question is accusing, your voice laced with confusion and anger. 

Beomgyu remains silent, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he exhales a final heavy breath. His jaw clenches when he swallows, and his dark eyes flicker down to your lips once more. — “Shut up.” It’s all he says, but there’s no malice in the way he does. It sounds almost like a plea. And the fire within his eyes seems to burn even brighter as his gaze meets yours. “Please just shut up.” 

You did not want to shut up. You wanted to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. You wanted to show him just how it felt when he rejected you just days prior. You wanted to tell him that he was ‘fucking insane’ and slam the door shut in his own face. — You did none of that. 

The next kiss is initiated by you, not him. It’s soft, and it reminds you of the one you’d given him last week. Slow, hesitant, but tender. And Beomgyu’s hands reluctantly drop from your face, gently sliding down your arms and sides before settling on your waist. — You had known for a long time now that you felt empathy for him. That you pitied him. Perhaps it was why you let him use you. 

Tomorrow he would not speak of this. He would act as if it never happened, he would bury it as deep as he could. He might think that this is his only solution today, that this will be his solace for whatever might’ve set him off. But it isn’t, and when this night morphs into dawn, he will realize that. — You don’t want him to. 

You should tell him to stop right now. He’ll only end up hurting you, not that he cares, he never had. But you, you should care. So why don’t you? 

Your fingers tug his already loose tie off, letting it slip from his neck before you work on his shirt, hastily unbuttoning it. Beomgyu follows in your tracks, letting you shrug the torn garment from his shoulders before he reaches for the pajama pants you wore. — You stop him, your hand on his wrist. “On the bed, please”, you whisper against his lips. 

His nod is barely noticeable before he hoists you into his arms. The sudden action startles you and you cling to him in shock as he gently places you down onto the mattress. He just about bothers to shove your laptop to the floor, muttering something incoherent about being able to get you a new one if it broke. You can’t find it in you to care, not when he climbs on top of you, the bed squeaking beneath his weight as he does. 

You feel warm, fuzzy, intoxicated even. Bleary eyes finding his as he hurriedly presses his lips against yours again. It was almost as if he was trying to drown out whatever thoughts plagued his mind as his hands grabbed at whatever part of you he could access. — His fingers hook around the waistline of your pajama pants, attempting to tug them off once more, and this time he succeeds. 

The air of your dormitory is cool against your naked skin, causing goosebumps to flare across it as Beomgyu slides your clothes down your body. He was moving fast, almost too fast. For some reason you let him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. He was being selfish right now, wasn’t he? Using you like this, only to quiet his own worries, to soothe his own pain. He didn’t care for your feelings and he never would, not even now as his hands hover above your panties, fingers tracing their lining with eagerness. 

Or perhaps you were the selfish one? He clearly wasn’t thinking straight. The Beomgyu you knew would never stoop to this level, he would never go for someone like you, and you would never allow it.. Right? — Were you selfish for using him in this state, for egging him on even when you knew that the two of you were to regret this in the morning? 

Maybe. 

You don’t care. 

His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your pantines, running between your folds, circling your clit once as he pulls a shaky gasp from you. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, leaving crescent like shapes in their wake. — He doesn’t wait, doesn’t drag the process out. You can tell that his mind is set on one thing. That’s okay, so were yours. Right? 

You cry out when he pushes two fingers inside of your aching cunt, curling them meticulously as his lips trail down your jaw. Your hips arch off the bed, meeting his movements as you wordlessly beg for more. — “Beomgyu, we… we should..” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, the feelings swirling within your chest were difficult to convey. 

But he won’t have a word of it. “Shut up”, he grunts, the palm of his free hand pressing against your pelvis as he shoves you back against the mattress. He’s rough, surprisingly so. You’d always taken him for a little bitch. But his strength startles you, as well as sending a shot of heat through your stomach, making you clench around his fingers. 

If he notices it, he doesn’t bother to comment, which is unusual for him. Something bad must’ve happened, that’s all you can think. Something so bad had happened that his only resolve was you. The thought of him using you to get over whatever had hurt, it should upset you. It should make you feel small and insignificant, but it never did. 

Beomgyu tugs your panties down, throwing them over his shoulder as he parts your already spread legs. — Your hands glide over the apex of his shoulders, and you blink up at him expectantly. He doesn’t return your gaze. That hurt. 

Instead he focuses on the zipper of his uniform pants, undoing it with a harsh tug before slipping hand down his pants. His low groan pierces the thick and hot air, the sound is one so sinful, one you could have never imagined coming from his lips. — Your eyes dart down to his cock when he pulls it free, tongue subconsciously darting out to wet your lips as you regard the way he languidly strokes himself.

“Touch yourself”, he says, his voice low and gruff as he eyes your dripping cunt. — Surprised, you hesitantly comply as you reach a hand down between your thighs, fingers experimentally dragging across your core. The small moan that slips off your tongue makes your face heat up as you avoid his gaze. 

You push two fingers inside of your pleading cunt, not even bothering to put on a show for him as you let yourself become immersed in how it feels, how good it feels. In fact everything felt good, a little too good, when you know it shouldn’t. — You watch him through the corner of your eye, catching the bead of precum that slid down his veiny shaft. And your stomach flutters uncontrollably when he squeezes around himself, letting his head tip back with a strained moan.

When he’s evidently had enough, he pushes your hand away, ignoring your cries as you lose any semblance of pleasure. Though your loss is soon replaced by the head of his cock as he slides it between your folds. It bumps against your clit, making you shudder as your fingers twist in the bed sheets. — Your lips part, but Beomgyu’s hand covers them again. 

“Don’t.” He grunts, his attention focused on the way his thick cock gently eases itself inside your warm cunt. Your eyes widen, a small and muffled noise of pleasure leaving you as you squirm beneath him. — “Don’t say anything”, he nearly pleads, his dark and burning gaze flickering to your face for a brief moment. 

Your chest contracts, you didn’t understand.. Yet you complied, sealing your lips off to anything that wasn’t a cry or a moan. — Beomgyu’s pace is rough, leaving no room for you to argue as he snaps his hips against yours. The bed frame rattles against your wall, and you briefly worried that the sound would carry into the next room. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to care. 

His hand slides off of your lips, resting on the mattress just inches from your face as he hovers above you. — Stifling a small whimper, you reach up to touch him, any part of him that you could. This was your chance, no? 

You can feel every twitch of muscle as you drag your fingertips along his arms, letting your hands glide across his tense shoulders. Beomgyu shudders when you reach the nape of his neck. — He complies when you pull him down for another kiss. This one starts out slower, but quickly morphs into something that could easily match the pace he was keeping. His teeth pull your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with a force that startles you, a surprised moan ripping from your throat. 

He made you feel nearly delirious, like you didn’t exist, nothing felt real. But at the same time, you could feel everything at once. He was so close, closer than he'd ever been to you. Not even back then, back when you considered him your friend. Not even then did it feel like this.. Raw, scorching hot, burning and most importantly, alive. 

Your chest is already hurting, already mourning the loss of him that was to come. Why couldn’t you just allow yourself to live in the moment, to give in to your desires completely, even if they were beyond what you knew to be possible. This was real, he was here, with you. For now, for tonight, everything was different, and you should let it be just that. 

“I love you.” 

The confession slips past your lips. It carries out into the dim room, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears and pounding against your ribcage. Beomgyu stills inside of you, his dark eyes immediately landing on yours as they narrow. — Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. Did you even mean it? Or had you let your flimsy emotions get the better of you once again. 

But this wasn’t just a small peck on the lips. Something you could pull back from, something you could wipe off your mouth and forget about. This was you baring your heart to him. This was you showing your most vulnerable self. — This was you being selfish. 

Beomgyu’s face twists into a scowl, the way it did whenever he tried to mask how hurt he was. Because that’s what he was tonight. Hurt. It’s why he’d come here. To use you. To let himself forget. He’d begged you to be quiet. — And you had done the exact opposite. 

“You don’t.” His statement is cold, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “You don’t know what you’re saying”, he grunts. And his expression hardens when you insistently shake your head. 

“I do”, your lips press into a thin line, determination flickering across your features. That was a lie. You did not know if you loved him. But you knew that you pitied him, that your heart ached for him. It was like every punch to his gut went straight to your heart. — Perhaps the hurt was so strong that you had confused it with love. Maybe your empathy for him got mistaken for real feelings in your mind.  

How should you know? It wasn’t like you’d ever felt it before. 

And he hadn’t either. You were sure of it. 

“I know what I’m..” — “I said you don’t know anything!” Beomgyu’s voice cuts you off, it sounds like a scream. Ear-piercing and deafening. Beomgyu was yelling at you. And it scared you. 

He shifts above you, elbows digging into the mattress and you suddenly remember that his throbbing cock is nestled within your cunt. You think he might pull back, that he will get up and leave. That’s what he should do. But he doesn’t. — Instead he jolts back into action, snapping his hips against yours with newfound force, his jaw clenching as his dark eyes bore into you. 

“You’re confused”, he jeers, and you choke back a wanton moan when his thumb circles your clit. “Lot of girls get confused when they’re stuffed with cock”, he scoffs, “And you’re no different.” — Beomgyu was back to his old self, the cruel and menacing one. The Beomgyu that fronted whenever he tried to hide his true feelings, when the real him was feeling weak. You should’ve seen it coming, really. But his words still hurt, they always did. 

He rams himself into you, making your thighs quiver as they meekly wrap around his chest, drawing him even closer. You screw your eyes shut, not wanting to see him for as much as another second. He doesn’t seem to care, in fact he hardly seems to care about anything at the very moment. 

His fingers are harsh against your clit as he drinks in every moan you emit. And when you finally finish around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him, he doesn’t say anything. You pant, still refusing to look at him as you catch your breath. His thick cock makes you wince as it continues to push into you with demand. 

Beomgyu pulls out wordlessly. Hissing out into the quiet air as he cums all over your spread thighs, his sharp intake of air pounding in your ears. His release is warm, a sickening contrast to the cold sweats that had broken out on your body. It nearly makes you shiver. 

A new kind of silence follows after that. One full of knowing. Because you both knew that what had transpired tonight, was not something you would ever talk about again. The unanswered questions would never be brought to discussion. And you were supposed to be okay with that. You were supposed to be okay with this. 

You don’t know if you ever will be. 

⸝⸝ 

The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. And you spent nearly an hour tracing their patterns with the tips of your fingers, following every crease of duvet carefully as you memorized the shape of him. 

You knew that this was how it was going to end, as nothing more but yet another mistake. Another reason for him to hate you, and you him. Which is why you shouldn’t feel this melancholic. He sure as hell wasn’t. So why should you suffer? Yet it takes everything in you to drag yourself out of bed that day. 

The water is scorching hot against your skin, and you lean against the cool tiles as you close your eyes. But no matter how hard you scrubbed, how many layers of soap you covered yourself beneath. The feeling of his hands never went away. You almost thought you could see them, the faint outlines of his hands, all over your body. And as soon as you let your mind wander, even for just a second, you could feel him on you again. 

With a shudder you shake your head, promptly turning the water from flaming hot to an icy cold. The warmth reminded you of him, of the fire in his eyes and the burn of his touch. Cold water did not remind you of anything, that was better. 

Part of you had thought, almost hoped, that he would come to you, that he would beg of you to keep quiet, to not utter a single word about the night that had been. But he never did. Presentation day comes, and it passes again. It wasn’t very dramatic, in fact, it was like nothing had changed at all. 

Beomgyu showed up. He didn’t look you in the eyes when he took his papers from you. He didn’t look at you during the presentation, he kept his gaze ahead, fixated on the rest of your joint classes. He didn’t speak to you before, during, or after it. Not even a simple, ‘well done’ or even a ‘thanks’ when you’d offered to take his papers and throw them away for him. 

His indifference hurt the most. Perhaps the night had meant nothing to him. It had been just as you suspected, a way for him to forget. Forget whatever it was that had happened with Yeonjun that afternoon. — It had worked. Beomgyu seemed to have forgotten, but you remembered, you remembered far too much. 

Winter break began a mere three days later. 

A different kind of excitement lingered in the air. No matter how old you got, the joy of Christmas never seemed to dull people’s spirits. Almost three weeks to spend with family and friends, three weeks away from the tortuous hell that was college. Except you would stay right where you were. 

This would be the third Christmas you spent on campus. And while the school offered the remaining students to gather in the cafeteria for present unwrapping and long movie marathons, it was never the same as the warm embrace of home. — But home has long since lost its meaning to you. And Christmas no longer felt like a holiday. 

Taehyun had left as well, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts to reconcile with. Suppose it was during the holidays you realized just how lonely you were. That hurt, of course. — You would spend your days doing mundane things, like reading, writing, drawing… Anything to get your mind off of the almost depressing reality you faced. It usually only worked for an hour or so. It was like a constant loop of distraction, one where you chased the comfort that slowly slipped from your fingers. 

But you were tired of chasing. 

⸝⸝

Your worn out sneakers make an awful squeaking noise against the polished floors and the sound rings in your ears. It’s all you can hear, which serves to quiet your thoughts for a moment, proving to be quite the distraction. 

The long hallways are eerily empty and quiet, it gives them an almost uncanny feeling. Campus no longer felt like campus, more like a shell of its former self. You knew that it would change as soon as break was over of course, but for now you were forced to make your way down the vacant halls all alone in order to get to the cafeteria and have dinner. 

It was for these exact reasons that the sudden tap to your shoulder made your heart drop. 

With a quick spin of your heel, you come face to face with the person you’d least expected to see. — His dark hair is nicely done, and his eyes glimmer with a kindness that two months ago would have had you doing a double take. Snow had melted on the shoulders of his jacket, and the tip of his nose was a bright red. An almost gentle smile is splayed across his rosy lips, and he gives a nervous chuckle. You almost didn’t recognize Choi Yeonjun. 

“Hey uh..” He scratches the back of his neck rather awkwardly, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “You don’t happen to know if there’s someone with keys to classroom 017? - My girl forgot one of her books in there before the break you see..”  — You remain silent. You don’t think you’d ever had a decent conversation with Yeonjun, ever. It had all been mean and crude comments, nasty smirks and awfully childish pranks where you became a laughing stock. 

So to say that it felt a little weird to be approached by him like this, well that would certainly classify as an understatement. Your first instinct was to walk away, to leave him hanging like he deserved or perhaps you should belittle him on his obliviousness, did he not know all keys were held in the lobby? You refused an eye roll. — For the first time since your night with Beomgyu, a different kind of emotion blossoms within your chest. 

Anger. 

Your mind easily recognizes Yeonjun as the one who’d taken Beomgyu from you two years ago. It was him who you’d blamed for the way Beomgyu turned out, it was him who was at fault. It was him… He… 

You swallow, giving him a small nod, “Think there should be someone up by the lobby.” The polite words sting on your tongue, your fingers itching as they clenched and unclened. Yeonjun on the other hand, smiles, his grin stretching wide as he thanks you. What had changed? 

“I best head there then.” With his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, he turns and begins his journey down the lifeless corridor. You watch him, eyes trailing over his figure for a moment before you call out. — “Hey, wait!” 

He pauses, turning back to you with raised brows. You march forward without giving yourself the chance to think it over once more. The sounds of you sneakers squeaking against the floors becomes almost deafening but you disregard it as you come to a halt before him. Straightening yourself up, you hold his confused but intrigued gaze. 

“You were friends with Beomgyu, right?” It wasn’t a question, but you phrased it like one anyway. The smile immediately falls from his face upon hearing your words, and for a split second, the old Yeonjun, the face you recognized in the halls fronted. His lips twist into a small scowl and his dark brows furrow. “What’s it to you?” His voice had grown sharp, almost snappy, perhaps you’d hit a sore spot. 

Something had happened. 

Yeonjun studies you for a moment longer, his brown eyes drinking in your frame. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, and he looks almost thoughtful. Then he huffs a short breath, it sounded almost like a laugh. — “Oh, yeah that’s right. I know who you are.” He stated it like it was an insult, like your name weighed heavy, and for all the wrong reasons. 

You can feel the confusion evolve on your face, he can too. “Why, I bet he’s told you everything. Bet he came running to you like a bitch.” Yeonjun’s menacing sneer is far from unfamiliar and your chest twists at his words. What was that supposed to mean? — “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was true. You had no idea what had happened between the two of them. 

It’s silent for a moment, and Yeonjun studies you closely, as if searching for lies. When he finds none his shoulders visibly relax. He lets out a short breath, averting his gaze, as if the confrontation of the subject made him uncomfortable. — “He’s an immature bitch, what do you want me to say?” He doesn’t hesitate as his eyes snap back to you, this time with something akin to fury. 

“Couldn’t accept my girl so why should I accept him. – But come on now, he’s told you that already.” 

You don’t answer. Your fingers nervously fiddles with one another as your hands rest by your sides. What was he talking about? What was there for you to know. — Your silence seems to make the pieces fall together in his mind, finally assembling a large puzzle and Yeonjun’s face lights up. “Oh shit”, he huffs, “He hasn’t told you anything at all.” It’s a statement, one that makes your heart drop. 

He runs a hand through his dark hair, a near sinister grin playing on his lips. “Fucking hell.” — He glances down the hall, which was ironic considering how blatantly vacant it was, then he turns back to you. “I thought– I mean I”, interrupting himself only to clear his throat, Yeonjun looks to be fighting back yet another laugh. “I mean I thought you guys were…” 

Shaking his head, he drags the flat of his palm across half his face. “Fuck, I guess not. That’s sad. Really.” — You want to object, tell him that whatever assumption he was currently making was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you and Beomgyu were exactly that. But that would be a lie. And you’d had enough of those. 

“Do you not miss him?” 

The question takes him by surprise, and Yeonjun pauses as he glances back at you. For a moment he looks offended, taken aback by your bluntness. His lips curl into a small scowl, the one he used to wear in the halls, not anymore though, now it was reserved for only one person, Beomgyu. — “Don’t think that’s any of your business, no? – I mean you guys aren’t even..” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a disappointing manner. 

“Just stay in your own lane”, he then adds, giving you a quick one over. “You’re better off without him anyway. – He’ll only bring you down with him.” 

Without another word, Yeonjun walks away. And you don’t stop him. For some reason, his words hurt. They were never directly targeted your way, so why did it hurt to hear him talk bad about Beomgyu? — Why did you feel the need to take on his pain as well, why did you feel the need to carry a burden that was never yours. 

The walk to the cafeteria feels even heavier than usual, and you barely get any food down that evening. 

⸝⸝

The days sort of blend together when you have nothing to do. They’re rolling on a loop, one after the other, and each one would follow the same mundane pattern. With only a day to spare before Christmas, you finally drag yourself off campus grounds, determined to at least make an attempt at lifting your spirits. 

Stores are beyond crowded, and you get shoved left and right as you swim your way through the large masses. God, had none of these people done their Christmas shopping with at least a little margin? — Supposedly not. 

You didn’t know what you wanted, hardly anything seemed to catch your eye. Still, you scour the near empty racks, even when nothing appeals. A small cry to your right diverts your attention in said direction where a young girl clings to her mom. — “I want this one!” She whines, her tiny feet stomping against the hard ground. Her mom sighs but eventually complies, shoving yet another toy in their already full cart. She looked exhausted.   

Your gaze lingers on the tired moms who rushed about with bags stuffed full, on the dads who checked off lists, on the workers who wiped sweat from their forehead as they tried to get through the long line of customers waiting to pay. 

All this commotion for a single day of the year. As much as the thought itself made you want to snort, there was also an undeniable sense of longing that filled your chest. You, too, wanted to rush about, you wanted to have to worry about what to get people for Christmas. You wanted to stay up late and wrap presents, you wanted to see the joy on their faces, hear their laughs. 

You didn't want to be alone. 

Walking was nice. But it becomes tiresome after a while. With your coat wrapped snugly around your body, you stroll the campus grounds absentmindedly. The cold air made your nose freeze and your cheeks sting, but you refused to return to your dorm just yet. There was something so comforting about being swallowed by the shivers running down your spine, or perhaps it was just numbing, like medicine, only it would never cure you. 

The frosty grass crunches beneath the sole of your shoes, and you trudge forward with heavy steps. There was but a thin and crisp layer of snow, one that could be erased with the swipe of your foot. So much for a white Christmas, you thought with a bitter scoff. — Your fingers are on the verge of falling off, but you clutch the small bag in your hand anyway, swinging it back and forth in tune with your casual strides. 

You pass a most familiar bench, now coated in a thin blanket of white but undoubtedly the same. Without thinking twice you come to a halt, feet melting into the ground as they force you in place. Furrowed brows press against your narrowed eyes as you peer over at the very same spot where you had seen Beomgyu sitting not long ago, all by himself. 

Everything seemed to remind you of him, even when all you wanted was to forget his mere existence. You look away, blinking the hurt from your eyes as you glance toward the entrance leading back inside, leading to warmth and to safety. You should go, you should go there now. But it’s impossible to get yourself to move forward, your legs refuse to carry you and you feel your knees buckle. 

With one harsh shake of your head you pull yourself from the small trance. And finally you move, but it is not the entrance you approach. — The old bench squeaks under your weight, and with the help of a gloved hand you dust the worst snow off. 

Sigh. Everything looked different now, yet it was as though nothing had changed. You close your eyes, and for a second you could almost imagine him as he sat beside you, sharing a laugh and perhaps even melting the cold away with your hand in his. The image pains you just as much as it warms you. 

Had it not been for the cold, the moment out on the bench might have even been tranquil. But the harsh winds soared through your body, chilling you to your core as it forced you to huddle in on yourself. You suck in a sharp breath, the cold air slicing down your throat as you force your almost numb lips together. 

Arms wrapped around yourself and fingers digging into your forearms, you’re so busy keeping the cold out that it takes you almost a whole minute to recognize the soft patter of frozen grass crunching beneath feet. But when the sound does reach your ears, your head jerks in its direction. 

There, on the other side of the once grassy field, without as much as a uniform or school bag in sight, is Beomgyu. You’re taken aback by his casual appearance, much so that you almost completely disregard his even more unusual visit. But only almost. — What was he doing here? He had a lot of people to spend Christmas with, no? What business did he have on campus? 

You shift on the old bench, the squeaking noise of the wood however, catches his attention. You swallow when his dark eyes find yours, even from across the field. For a split second you think that he might just keep on walking, to continue his act of nonchalance, as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you, and that you were crazy for even suggesting such a thing. 

But Beomgyu’s gaze doesn’t harden, nor does it lessen. In fact his expression remains completely impassive, though his actions speak for him. He puts one foot before the other, and it’s not until he’s gotten about halfway across the field that you realize where he’s headed. Your stomach drops as you watch him push his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slumped as he approaches. Your gaze flickers to the bag in your hands, swallowing nervously as you tune in to the sound of his footsteps nearing. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything when he sits down beside you, and you listen to the squeaking noise the bench makes in protest to yet another element of weight. You peer at him through the corner of your eye. His hair was shorter, the dark strands no longer reached the nape of his neck but stopped just below his ear. Even the bruise on his face had begun to fade, now it was a mere light purple, with splotches of red coating its edges. Lastly, the tip of his nose, which was an uncharacteristic shade of pink, one you found to be almost endearing. 

Your attention travels to the clothes he wore, the jacket looked expensive, undoubtedly more than you could afford even if you saved all your money’s worth. Funnily enough, he doesn’t seem to care for it as his fingers lazily pick at its seams. Beomgyu took a lot of things for granted, you could tell. — Things you could only dream about. 

The silence surrounding you is thick, hugging you tight and keeping you from moving. Your lips part as you attempt to break said silence, despite how dry your throat feels. Beomgyu however, is quicker than you as he heaves a sigh. 

“Why are you out here?” He asks, his gaze still fixed far ahead as his fingers give his jacket a small break. You had expected a ‘hello’ perhaps even a ‘how are you?’, maybe you would even have been content with a sharp glare or a ‘fuck off’. But Beomgyu leads the conversation in a completely different direction. 

When your silence becomes deafening he turns to you. His eyes are filled with something you can’t quite place, something unlike his usual self. He searches your face, as though looking for clues with the help of a magnifying glass. “It’s cold”, he then adds, as if the obvious could not have been made any clearer. 

You scoff, shaking your head as you fiddle with the bag in your hands. “I’m dressed for it”, you mutter without looking at him. Beomgyu hums, and for a second it sounds as though he’s about to say something else, only to stop himself. — The thick silence returns, this time it feels almost claustrophobic. You wanted to ask him about that night, you wanted to ask him about Yeonjun, you wanted to ask him about the two of you, you wanted to ask him…

“Why are you out here?” Your quiet whisper is nearly swallowed by the whirling wind but Beomgyu manages to catch it as his attention jumps from the naked trees and back to you. There were a thousand thoughts swimming within his eyes, things that were just waiting to be said. So why didn’t he? 

“It’s Christmas”, you add, watching as his lip twitches in amusement. — You could not remember the last time you’d made Beomgyu laugh. He shakes his head, tongue prodding against his cheek. “It is”, he nods in agreement, his gaze dropping to the bag clutched in your hands. “Present?” He asks to which you slowly nod. 

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you exhale a deflated sigh, “A stupid one.” You didn’t want to admit that you had bought it for yourself, considering the fact that it would be the only gift you were to receive this year, again. It’s quiet after that and you desperately hoped he would drop the subject again. 

Beomgyu shrugs, “Isn’t that the whole point of Christmas?” When you only frown, he continues, “I mean, wrapping things up and giving them away.” He scoffs as he runs a hand through his dark hair, “Using gifts as condolences, it’s quite materialistic don’t you think?” 

You wanted to argue that it was not, but as your gaze flickers over the expensive clothes he wore, you realized that he didn't seem even a tad grateful for them. Perhaps they had been just that, condolences. — Your thoughts are interrupted by Beomgyu as he shifts on the bench and his hand reaches into the pocket of his coat. 

“I’m not much better”, he murmurs when pulling out a small box. It fit perfectly in his palm, enveloped in silver wrapping with a tiny bow on top. You eye the tiny present with intrigue, your stomach flipping at the sight. — He inhales sharply as he twists the box between his fingers. “Reflecting, repenting all that bullshit..” He mumbles as his brown eyes meet yours, “Suppose that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

Confused, you open your mouth to speak but before you can get as much as a word out, he hands you the gift. His eyes look near pleading as he silently begs for you to accept it, as if it would mean you accepted his apology. Perhaps it would take the guilt off his shoulders if you did. — The frown on your face only grows, but you set your own bag down before reaching a hesitant hand out to grasp the present. 

It feels light in your palm, almost weightless. “Open it”, Beomgyu encourages beside you, his warm breath ghosts across your cheek and you hadn’t even realized just how close he was. — Shrugging your mitten off, your free hand carefully plucks the lid from its container. You can feel his gaze on you, watching intently as you gently tug the rustling paper aside. 

Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen tenfold when they fall on the familiar piece of leather. It was the same warm brown, and the contrastingly dark navy blue. The bracelet which you had cherished for so long, the one you had clung onto in the hopes that his matching part would still exist somewhere. 

“I…” You breathlessly begin but Beomgyu quickly cuts you off. “I.. I’m sorry, yeah, that’s what I was…”, he trails off, shrugging as he averts his gaze sheepishly. It’s weird to see him like that, it reminds you of a time long ago, a time before everything. 

The reality of his words slowly sank in, Beomgyu was apologizing. 

You had spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed as you prayed and hoped for a time like this. Was it selfish for you to wish for things to be the way they had been? You wanted to bring back someone who no longer existed, a version of him that was but a mere memory, remembered and kept alive only by you. 

Yet here he is, doing just as you had hoped, and for so long. But you hate Choi Beomgyu now. That was a fact. And he hated you too. So this didn’t make sense, no, it wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be apologizing. He should have brushed it off, acted as if nothing had ever happened and given you a shoulder cold enough to bring back the ice age. 

“This is wrong.. — I mean, you can’t just-” Biting back a frustrated groan, you twist uncomfortably in your seat as you avoid his reluctant gaze. You can sense his confusion, and it only fuels your frustration. Did he not understand that he couldn’t just undo everything with a simple ‘sorry’ and a gift. 

Beomgyu swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing against his throat. “What?” He asks, his gaze dropping to the untouched gift still in your hands, “Do you not like it? — I can get you something else.” 

You shake your head, “It’s not about the gift, Beomgyu.” — He frowns, “Then what is it?” 

“Everything.” 

You’re looking at him now, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight your nerves. “It’s everything, okay? You, me–” You motion between the two of you, “Yeonjun, the presentation, us.” It wasn’t just something you drew a line over, something you blurred and pushed back in the depths of your mind as you tried to forget it. 

“But, why does any of that matter?” He wonders with a confused frown, his bottom lip slightly jutted out as he regards you with caution. You have to hold back a scoff, your fingers curl around the small box, knuckles turning white as you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Because it does! You might not get that, but it hurt me.” 

Beomgyu groans as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Fuck, I already apologized what more do you want from me?” His anger matches yours in a way that instantly reminds you of just how bad you could be together, of how deeply he made you feel. — “What difference does it make?” You snap, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“Everything.” 

“It changes everything, alright?” His chest heaves when he exhales, his eyes flaring with the same fire they had that night, the night when he wasn’t thinking straight. He probably wasn’t right now either. — “Because”, he swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regains his composure. “Because I don’t know how else to change things.” 

He drags a hand across his face, like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “You act like I’m the biggest asshole to walk this earth and next thing I know you’re kissing me. It confuses me and it angers me. But even when you’re mean you’re nice, and I hate how it makes me feel. — I hate that it’s you I want to go to when shit goes wrong, and I hate that I did. I hate how you let me use you that night.” 

He’s barely taking breaks to breathe in between sentences, and you catch the subtle flush to his cheeks as he speaks. “I fucking hate the fact that you’re always on my mind, much more do I hate that I never even try to will those thoughts away.” Beomgyu bites his bottom lip, chewing on it for a good five seconds before letting it go as he sneaks a glance your way. “But I…” He sighs as he finally comes to a conclusion after his long battle with himself. — “I don’t hate you. I want to, but I can’t” 

You swallow, your hand still hugged by the mitten feels clammy and sweaty. Your heart races and your mind jumps between his jumbled words with little coherence. You don’t think you’d ever heard him say so many things at once, and certainly not like that. His usual mean and crude self had completely drained from his system and left was a shell of the Beomgyu you thought you knew. 

It was then, you think, that you realized Choi Beomgyu wasn’t so different from you after all. Your gaze drops to the small gift still in your hands. What had once weighed so little now felt heavy in your grasp, like you were holding all of him, all at once. The bracelet fills you with hope, something you’d long since given up on entirely. 

You glance toward him. His jaw is clenched tightly as his narrowed eyes peer ahead, intent on avoiding you it seemed. His apology was complete and total shit, his reasoning even worse. But Beomgyu was quite shit at most things. So were you. — Your gaze lingers on his pink nose, bitten by the cold. Your own nose stings too, for the both of you had been out here far too long. 

In the pale winter air it became clear. Beomgyu was lonely, just as lonely as you. The slump of his shoulders and the defeated look on his face surely matched your own. You imagine how the two of you must look from afar. It would have to be quite a pitiful sight. How could one be lonely in the presence of someone else? Only two jackasses must manage something like that. 

But you didn’t want to be a jackass anymore, and neither did he. — So you shift on the bench, ignoring the squeaking noise it makes as you turn to Beomgyu. “Do you want to watch a movie?” 

⸝⸝

It’s awkward at first. 

The soft rustle of bed sheets, the untouched bowl of popcorn between you, the flimmer coming from the Tv screen as a cheesy romcom movie plays. Beomgyu, who was usually more than at home in your dorm, was now stiffly sitting on his side of the bed, his back straight as he pressed against the headboard. He appeared almost nervous. 

You weren’t faring much better, in fact your hands were dripping sweat as they remained tightly clasped together. Neither of you had touched the large bowl of popcorn, and they had long since gone cold. — Despite the freezing temperatures outside, your small dormitory seemed to be burning up. 

None of you had said a word since the movie began playing, and before that you had been communicating with fast and hushed murmurs as you avoided each other’s gaze. — Never had you imagined that you would be spending Christmas with Beomgyu, much less on the small and squeaking bed in your dorm. 

Did this mean that things were starting to look up between the two of you? 

Your heart practically leaps to your throat when you feel him shift on the mattress. Everytime he moved, even if it was just a mere centimeter, you tensed up. But the dramatic beating of your fluttering heart was only increased when he suddenly appeared even closer to you. His body feels warm, scorching hot inside the already airless room. 

He doesn’t say anything, and when you steal a glance his way, you find him watching the Tv. His expression would be relaxed if it weren't for the subtle twitch of his jaw when he felt your eyes on him. — Your attention drops to his hands, they were placed on the bed either side of him, his fingers moving absentmindedly against the sheets as he fiddled with them. 

Your lips pulled into a small smile, and oh how you had missed smiling. 

Beomgyu frowns when you suddenly climb off the bed, leaving behind an empty spot that radiates your sweet scent. He looked as though he was about to say something, one of his hands reaching out before stopping himself again. — He watches as you reach for the same bag you’d been clutching so tightly out on the bench, the one that had been completely disregarded in the end. 

You clear your throat, standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed as you hold it in two hands. “I…” Your throat feels parched and your lips dry as your tongue wets them, “I want you to have this.” You reach the bag out toward him and Beomgyu's frown only deepens. — “But it’s yours..” He murmurs as his eyes flit between you and the bag in your hands. 

“I want you to have it. — Besides”, you shrug, “You’re not the only one who’s been an idiot here.” 

His brow raises at your words, a small grin tugging at his lips as he gratefully accepts the token of an apology from you. You take the moment of him peering inside the bag to retake your position next to him on the mattress. Eagerly you watch as his frown deepens, only for it to ease up as he realizes what he was looking at. 

“This is..” He begins, one of his hands reaching into the bag as he pulls out the small bracelet. Beomgyu’s jaw slacks as he turns the cool and brown leather in his fingers, thumb caressing the warm and red embroidery. “You…” He cuts himself off, whether that was because he did not know what to say next or did not dare to. 

Your gaze flickers to the small box placed on your bedside table, perhaps you weren’t complete jackasses after all. 

“Why did you…” He swallows, and though he never finished his sentence, the question swirling within his eyes was obvious. — You shrug, nibbling on your bottom lip as you regard the bracelet in his hand. “It just… felt right.” 

There was no other way to explain it. For as you had trudged forward on tired feet, with heavy and droopy eyes, you had stumbled upon the very thing that had haunted you for so long. 

It has been a small stand, hardly making itself known amongst its competitors. The handmade jewelry however, immediately caught your eye. You recognized the leather, eyes widening even further as they caught glimpse of the warm red braided into it. 

Your stomach had dropped, just the way it would on a rollercoaster before its drop. That was undoubtedly the very same bracelet he’d worn, the one that had wrapped around his wrist so delicately, a constant reminder of what you had once lost. 

“That one,” You had said as you pointed to the accessory. Why? Because it felt right. Words would never even come close to describing the pull you felt, the immense need to have it. — But now, as you watch it lay in Beomgyu’s open palm, his lips parted as he regards the very bracelet, you understand perfectly. 

Things were exactly how they were supposed to be. 

Beomgyu’s hand suddenly drops, and he twists in his seat as he turns to you. The touch of his fingers against your cheek makes your eyes widen, the subtle reaction not passing him by unnoticed as a sly grin pulls across his lips. “What are you doing?” Your brows knit together, the soft confusion on your face only amusing him further. 

His breath is warm against your lips as his own hover above them. The tip of his round nose brushes against yours, the small contact sending a jolt of electricity through you. “What I should have done from the start”, he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours. 

⸝⸝

The agonizing noise of violent video games fill the open spaced living room. Continuous shots are fired, easily drowning out the sound of the doorbell. Completely immersed in his game, Yeonjun doesn’t look up until he feels the cushion beneath him shift as somebody takes the seat next to him. He doesn’t turn his head and look, he already knows who it is. 

“How did you get in?” He asks in a somewhat monotone voice, his eyes still glued to the Tv screen in front of him as he taps the controller in his hands. Beomgyu, who occupies the other half of the cough, shrugs as he spreads himself out on the soft furniture, just like he had so many times before. — As though nothing had changed. 

“Your girlfriend let me in”, he simply states as he, too, tunes in on the violent game. Yeonjun on the other hand frowns, his face morphing into confusion as his thumbs slow down on the buttons. At last, the game comes to an end and he tears the headset from his ears. — “Oh, so you talk to her now?” He retorts, his tone snappy and sharp as he tosses the control onto the coffee table. 

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, his gaze still fixed to the ‘New Game’ flashing on the screen. “I do”, he hums, fingers absentmindedly toying with one another. Yeonjun scoffs as he throws a glance in the direction of his supposed friend. — “Any particular reason?” He queries to which Beomgyu swallows. 

There’s a momenteral silence following his question as the two of them remain quietly seated on the couch. Neither of them move, the air feeling heavy yet filled with a sense of anticipation. Finally, he clears his throat as his anxious fingers come to a halt. “I’ve been acting like an asshole..” Beomgyu murmurs as he pushes a hand through his now short hair. 

Yeonjun looked as though he was biting back a snarky remark, his gaze flickering between the other and his own hands. “No shit”, he mumbles under his breath, unable to hold the comment back as he sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze jumps from his hands and over to Beomgyu’s as he nervously fiddles with the seams of his jeans. He can’t help but notice the oddly familiar bracelet around his wrist. 

It takes him a good minute, but soon the pieces fall into place. His lip twitches as his eyes stray by the bracelet. — “I’m sorry”, Beomgyu quietly adds. It seems apologies were becoming a new habit of his. It took Yeonjun by surprise, making his eyebrows rise on his forehead, all the while Beomgyu avoided his gaze. 

“I haven’t been too good either, I suppose.” Yeonjun reluctantly admits as he gives a small shrug. Beomgyu doesn’t reply but still nods as he purses his lips. Another thick silence follows, it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not one either of them want to linger in. Yeonjun is the first to break it when he clears his throat. 

“I missed you man”, he says, his words light and filled with sincerity. 

Beomgyu finally finds himself looking at his friend, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Yeah?” He asks, the ghost of a grin playing across his lips. Yeonjun scoffs as he leans further into the couch, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” But it’s already too late, for Beomgyu was smirking as he leaned over to grab the discarded controller. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he drawls as he presses ‘New Game’. 

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[rafes-slut]

Hi can you do a Rafe smut where him and reader “hate” each other and they are at a party. While reader gets a drink a random dude starts harassing/annoying her and he does something that makes her punch him in the face. She runs away while the dude chases after her and she spots rafe. She hides behind him and he’s like “wtf” but then sees the guy coming behind you. Then you tell him what happened and rafe beats the shit out of the guy and takes you upstairs for some sexy time😫🙏🏻

God i love this one

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Smut (18+), rough sex, possessiveness, violence, jealousy, language, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, toxic dynamics.

You wanted to believe you hated Rafe Cameron. You really did. It was easier that way—easier to pretend like you didn’t feel his eyes on you every time you walked into a room, easier to act like you didn’t think about how good he looked with his sleeves rolled up and his jaw clenched. Easier to ignore the way your body reacted when he got close, the heat that burned beneath your skin when he muttered something cocky under his breath just to piss you off.

And you were sure he felt the same way. That was how it always had been between you two—pure hatred, always at each other's throats. You swore you could kill each other any second.

But tonight, everything changed.

The music was loud, the party buzzing with energy as Kooks filled the massive beach house. You were perched at the bar, sipping your drink, already regretting coming. The only reason you stayed was because you refused to let Rafe’s presence ruin your night. You weren’t about to leave just because he was here, brooding in the corner like he always did, looking too damn good for his own good.

Then, the creep showed up.

You hadn’t even noticed him at first, too busy nursing your drink and trying to drown out the annoyingly catchy music blasting through the speakers. But the second he sidled up next to you, his cologne too strong and his grin too cocky, you knew he was trouble.

“Didn’t take you for a girl who comes to parties alone,” he mused, eyes dragging over your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

“I didn’t,” you muttered, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave like he thought it was seductive. “Bet you just haven’t found the right company yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not interested.”

But he didn’t back off. If anything, he got bolder, his hand brushing against your arm as he chuckled like you had just played hard to get. “Aw, don’t be like that, baby—”

Before he could finish, his hand landed on your ass, a firm slap that sent a wave of disgust rippling through you. Your entire body tensed, blood boiling as you turned and smacked him across the face without thinking.

The crack echoed over the music, and for a split second, everything went still.

Then, his expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with something dangerous.

“Bitch,” he spat, taking a step toward you.

Panic flared in your chest. You knew that look. He was pissed, and you had no intention of sticking around to see what he’d do next. Your heart pounded as you spun on your heel, pushing through the crowd.

But he followed.

You could hear him behind you, his footsteps heavy, his breathing ragged with fury. Your stomach twisted, your skin crawling as you shoved past drunken partygoers, desperate for an escape.

Then, you saw him.

Rafe.

He was standing near the stairs, a beer in his hand, mid-conversation with Kelce. The second your eyes landed on him, you didn’t think—you just moved.

Before you knew it, you were behind him, gripping the back of his shirt like your life depended on it.

“What the fuck—?” Rafe turned, his brows furrowing as he looked down at you in confusion. “What are you—”

But then, his gaze lifted, and he saw him. The guy.

And Rafe immediately understood.

His whole demeanor shifted. His grip tightened around the beer bottle, his entire body going rigid. “He bothering you?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “He—he touched me.”

That was all it took.

Rafe saw red.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t ask for details. He just acted.

The bottle dropped from his hand, shattering on the floor as he launched himself at the guy. It happened so fast that you barely had time to react. One second, Rafe was standing in front of you. The next, he was on him, fist colliding with his jaw so hard that you swore you felt it.

People gasped, parting like the Red Sea as Rafe unleashed hell. His knuckles cracked against the guy’s face over and over, blood smearing across his skin.

No one tried to stop him. They knew better.

By the time Rafe was done, the guy was out cold on the floor.

His chest heaved as he straightened, fists clenched, rage still burning in his blue eyes as he turned back to you. “You okay?”

You were staring.

You couldn’t help it.

He looked—fuck.

Blood speckled his sharp jaw, his hair disheveled from the fight. His hands were bruised, knuckles split, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

And you wanted him.

Bad.

You didn’t even think. You just grabbed his wrist, tugging him through the party without a word.

“Where the fuck are we going?” he grumbled, confused.

You ignored him, pushing open the first empty door you found, pulling him inside, and slamming it shut behind you.

The second the door slammed shut, you barely had time to process what was happening before Rafe was on you. His hands were everywhere—gripping, grabbing, pulling—like he needed to touch every inch of you at once. His mouth was hot and demanding against yours, tongue sliding between your lips in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. You gasped when his hands found your thighs, gripping them rough enough to bruise as he hoisted you up.

Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, and your back slammed against the door, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growled against your mouth, his teeth dragging over your bottom lip before biting down, just enough to sting. “Watching me fuck that guy up got you all wet?”

Your only answer was a moan as he rolled his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock right against your aching core. You were still wearing your dress, but it did nothing to dull the sensation of how thick he felt against you, how ready he was to wreck you.

“Fuck, I knew you were dirty,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your thighs, shoving your dress higher. “Knew you needed someone to put you in your fucking place.”

Before you could snap back, his fingers found your panties, pushing them aside. His thumb swiped through your wetness, and he let out a deep groan when he felt how soaked you were.

“Jesus. You’re dripping, baby,” he mocked, voice dark with amusement. “Bet you’d let me fuck you right here against this door, huh? Let everyone at this party hear how desperate you are.”

The thought sent a rush of heat through your body. You wanted to tell him to shut up, to slap that cocky smirk off his face, but when his fingers pushed inside you—two at once, stretching you—the only sound you made was a pathetic whimper.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head hitting the door.

Rafe pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had your thighs shaking around his waist. He was teasing you, taking his time, knowing damn well how much you needed him.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he taunted, his teeth grazing your jaw as he kissed down your neck. “Look at you—so fucking needy.”

You whined, bucking your hips against his hand, but he pulled his fingers away. Your whimper of protest was swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you hard, reaching down to undo his belt.

Then, he flipped you around.

Your hands caught against the door to keep yourself upright, but Rafe didn’t give you a second to process before he was yanking your dress up and dragging your soaked panties down your thighs.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he growled, his hands gripping your ass, spreading you open. “Make sure you never look at another guy again.”

You barely had time to breathe before he was shoving his cock inside you, hard and deep, stretching you to the point of pain. You let out a strangled moan, your fingers digging into the door as he bottomed out in one rough thrust.

“Fuck—”

Rafe groaned, his forehead dropping against your shoulder for a second as he gritted his teeth. “So fucking tight.”

He didn’t start slow. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He just started moving, fucking into you with deep, bruising thrusts that had you crying out.

His grip was rough, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you back onto his cock, forcing you to take every inch. You could hear the wet, filthy sounds of him slamming into you, feel the way your walls clenched around him, your body struggling to keep up with how hard he was fucking you.

“This what you needed?” he gritted out, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur at the edges. “Needed me to fuck you like a slut?”

You moaned in response, too far gone to be embarrassed about how wrecked you already sounded.

“Say it,” he demanded, tightening his grip.

You gasped, your head spinning. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?” He slowed his thrusts, just enough to drive you crazy, just enough to make you squirm.

“Yes, I needed it,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper.

He groaned, his free hand coming down on your ass with a sharp slap that made you jolt. “That’s right,” he muttered, snapping his hips forward again. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this. Fucking brat.”

You felt yourself getting close embarrassingly fast. The way he fucked you—deep and rough, owning every inch of you—had your entire body burning with pleasure. His grip was relentless, fingers pressing into your skin like he wanted to leave marks, like he wanted you to remember this every time you moved.

“You gonna come already?” Rafe taunted, noticing how tight you were squeezing him. “Jesus, you’re fucking obsessed with me.”

“Shut up,” you panted, nails scratching against the door.

He chuckled darkly, hand wrapping in your hair, yanking your head back so his lips were right against your ear. “Make me.”

And then he fucked you even harder.

Your orgasm slammed into you so fast and so intense that your knees buckled, but Rafe didn’t let up. He kept fucking you through it, kept fucking you past it, his pace ruthless as he chased his own release.

Your overstimulated whimpers only spurred him on. His thrusts got rougher, more desperate, his groans turning into curses. “Fuck—”

Then, with one final thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go, his entire body going tense as he came inside you, filling you up with a low, guttural groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Your body was limp against the door, your breathing ragged, and Rafe was still pressed against you, his forehead against your shoulder, both of you spent.

Finally, he let out a breath, his grip loosening. “Jesus Christ.”

You swallowed hard, still trembling. You felt him pull out, his hands gently dragging your dress back down, as if he hadn’t just fucked you senseless against a door at a party.

When you finally turned to face him, his blue eyes were dark, filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

Then, that cocky smirk returned.

“Still think you hate me?”

[gdinthehouseee]

Closed Door - Part 1: CHOI SEUNG-HYUN x READER

summary: as ji-yong's younger sister, seung-hyun knew you were off limits; always admiring you from afar. not once did he think he would ever have a chance with you, or that was until you let it slip that you like him too. unfortunately, not everyone is happy about that…

word count: 6496

tags: brothers best friend trope, mutual crushing, bickering and arguing, overprotective brother!gd

ao3 link -- part 2 (coming soon!)

Seung-hyun shouldn’t be looking at you like this.

Not when you’re Ji-yong’s younger sister. Not when Ji-yong would probably kill him if he ever found out. Not when he’s spent years keeping his feelings buried beneath a carefully crafted mask of indifference. And yet, here he is, watching you from across the room, his heart betraying him with every soft beat.

You’re sitting on the couch, completely unaware of his gaze, laughing at something on your phone. The sound is warm, unguarded—different from the way you sound when you’re teasing your brother or making a point in a heated discussion. Seung-hyun likes this version of you best, the one that isn’t performing for anyone. The one that just exists, effortlessly captivating.

He wonders if you’ve ever noticed the way he notices you. The way he always makes sure you get home safe after a long night out with the group. The way he lingers near you at gatherings, not quite touching but close enough that if you ever needed him, he’d be there. The way he forces himself to look away when you tilt your head just right, when your lips part slightly in thought, when you’re so damn beautiful it makes his chest ache. And the way he clenches his jaw every time Ji-yong talks about you. Not in a bad way—Ji-yong adores you. He’s proud of you, protective of you, and he never shuts up about making sure no guy gets the wrong idea.

"You don’t know how many guys have tried to befriend me just to get close to her," Ji-yong had once complained, shaking his head. "It’s irritating. I have to fight them off all the time."

Seung-hyun had laughed at the time, forced a smirk, and said something teasing like "Can you blame them?" But inside, it burned. Because he wasn’t one of those guys. He wasn’t trying to use Ji-yong to get to you. If anything, his friendship with Ji-yong was the only thing stopping him. But that didn’t matter. If Ji-yong ever found out, would he even believe that? Or would he group Seung-hyun in with all the others—just another guy he had to fight off? The thought makes his grip tighten around his glass. He can’t risk losing Ji-yong’s trust. Can’t risk losing you, even if he doesn’t have you to begin with. But then—

"Seung-hyun?"

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he barely manages to school his expression before you catch him staring.

"Mm?" He leans back against the chair, forcing a lazy smile. "What is it?"

"You were staring," you point out, returning the expression with your own knowing smile. 

"Was I?"

You hum in suspicion but let it go, turning your attention back to your phone. He exhales slowly, thankful for the escape. But as he watches you laugh again—completely unaware of the storm brewing in his chest—he knows he’s in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

Seung-hyun tries to pull his attention away, but it’s impossible. Every time you so much as shift in your seat, he feels hyperaware of your presence. He watches as you tuck your legs beneath you, completely comfortable in the shared space, the glow from your phone screen casting soft light across your face. It’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful you are.

"Okay, what is it?" You suddenly turn to him, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

He blinks, caught off guard. "What?"

"You keep looking at me."

His grip tightens around his glass, but his face remains unreadable—at least, he hopes. Years in the industry have made him an expert at masking his emotions. But you’re not just anyone, and you’ve known him long enough to see through the cracks.

"Maybe I just like looking at pretty things," he says smoothly, testing the waters. It’s not a confession, not really. Just a tease, something that could be brushed off if needed.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly. "If you’re trying to flirt with me, Seung-hyun, you’ll have to try harder than that."

His stomach twists, but he forces out a low chuckle. "Who said I was flirting?"

"You just called me pretty."

He smirks, lifting his glass to his lips to buy himself a second. "And?"

"And," you say, shifting to face him fully, "you’re being weird today."

Shit.

"Is that your way of saying you don’t want to be called pretty?" He deflects, raising a brow. "Because if that’s the case, I’ll take it back."

You tilt your head, considering. "No… I don’t mind."

His chest tightens. He wasn’t prepared for that. For a brief second, the teasing light in your eyes fades into something softer—something unreadable; dangerous. Something that makes his pulse quicken. But before he can even begin to process it, the front door swings open.

"Yo, I’m back—what the hell are you two doing?"

Ji-yong’s voice cuts through the air like a slap, and Seung-hyun immediately straightens. Nothing. The two of you were doing nothing. But Ji-yong is already eyeing him suspiciously, and Seung-hyun has to swallow down the guilt that rises in his throat.

"Seung-hyun was just flirting with me," you say casually, stretching your arms above your head like this is the most normal thing in the world.

Seung-hyun almost chokes.

Ji-yong freezes mid-step. His eyes narrow as he looks between the two of you, and Seung-hyun feels his stomach drop.

"You what?"

You’re laughing, amused by the reaction, but Seung-hyun knows better. Ji-yong isn’t amused. He squints at the two of you, his lips twitching like he’s trying to decide if he should actually be mad or just mess with Seung-hyun. Then he scoffs, shaking his head.

"Seung-hyun doesn’t flirt," he says, setting down the takeout bags he brought in. "He just stares longingly and hopes for the best."

Seung-hyun freezes. His heart nearly stops in his chest, the words hitting him like a truck. He feels his ears burn, his breath hitching just slightly—not enough for Ji-yong to notice, but you do. You rest your chin on your hand, eyes flickering toward him with a slow, knowing smirk. 

“Oh really?” You muse, voice just a little too innocent. “So, if someone were to catch Seung-hyun staring at them a lot… that would mean something?”

Seung-hyun exhales sharply, barely masking his internal panic. He doesn’t move—doesn’t dare to look at you—but you can practically feel the way he’s fighting not to react.

Ji-yong, still oblivious, laughs as he pulls out a pair of chopsticks. “I mean, it’s just how he is, but if you ever notice him doing it too much, it probably means he—”

Seung-hyun’s grip tightens around his glass. You watch him for a second longer, waiting, just to see if he’ll slip. And then, because you can’t help yourself, you tilt your head and hum, “Hmm… interesting.”

That’s all. No accusations, no pointed questions. Just a simple hum, but it’s enough. Seung-hyun stiffens almost imperceptibly, and that’s how you know. He’s terrible at hiding things from you. You bite back a grin, dragging your gaze away from him as if you’re letting it go. As if you’re not planning to have way too much fun with this later.

Ji-yong, still completely in the dark, slides a takeout box toward you. “Anyway, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

You nod, reaching for your food, but not before sneaking one last glance at Seung-hyun—just in time to catch the way he exhales, relieved but wary, like he knows exactly what just happened. And from the way his ears are tinged pink? He knows he’s not getting out of this easily.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

You don’t bring it up immediately. That would be too easy. Instead, you let the knowledge simmer, tucking it away like a secret weapon for later. Seung-hyun, to his credit, manages to keep himself composed—at first. He’s always been good at masking his emotions, keeping his thoughts locked away behind that cool, unreadable expression.

But you? You know exactly how to get under his skin. It starts small. Barely noticeable things, except to him. The next time you’re all together, you catch him staring again—just for a second, just long enough for his gaze to flicker away when you turn to him.

So you smile, sweet and knowing. “Careful, Seung-hyun,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “You’ll give a person the wrong idea if you keep looking at them like that.”

His reaction is priceless; to you, at least. A subtle shift in his posture. The slight clench of his jaw. The way his hand tightens around his drink. But he doesn’t say anything. Just gives a low hum, as if dismissing your words entirely. Oh, he wants to play it cool? That’s fine.

Next time, it’s over dinner at Ji-yong’s place. Everyone is chatting, the conversation flowing easily around the table, but you notice how Seung-hyun is quieter than usual. Not in a bad way—just observant, as always. And still watching you, so you decide to test something.

You tilt your head, resting your chin in your hand. Then, deliberately, you drag your gaze over to him—slow, intentional, like you’re studying him this time. The second his eyes meet yours, you smile. He blinks. Just once. Then, ever so slightly, he shifts in his seat. You nearly laugh. Too easy.

Ji-yong, oblivious as ever, waves his chopsticks in the air as he talks. “I swear, people always think I have to be the one fighting off guys who try to get close to her, but most of them don’t even get the chance. They panic before they can even try.” He laughs, shaking his head. “It’s kind of funny, honestly.”

You hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider. “You think that’s true, Seung-hyun?”

Seung-hyun, who had just taken a sip of his drink, nearly chokes.

Ji-yong barely notices, still caught up in his story. “I mean, come on. Most of them don’t even have the nerve to look her in the eye for more than two seconds.”

Seung-hyun swallows thickly, clearing his throat. “…Right.”

You bite back a grin. “So, what does it mean when someone does keep looking?”

There it is. That half-second pause, the slightest flicker of panic in his dark eyes.

Ji-yong just shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe they’re a fan, or they have a death wish.”

You fight the urge to laugh, because Seung-hyun is struggling now. He shifts again, fingers tapping against his glass like he’s mentally searching for an escape route. You’d almost feel bad for him. Almost. His gaze flickers up to you, just for a second, and something in it makes your breath catch. Despite his flustered state, there’s something else there too. Something unreadable. Something deep. And suddenly, you’re the one caught in the game you started.

You’ve been playing this game for days now, and Seung-hyun is cracking. At first, he was good at keeping himself in check. A composed nod here, a neutral hum there. But you’ve been relentless—small, teasing glances, light brushes of your fingers when passing him something, sweetly innocent questions that leave him stiff and silent. The best part? No one else seems to notice.

Until tonight.

You’re at the studio with Ji-yong, Seung-hyun, Youngbae, and Daesung, all gathered in the lounge after a long day. The conversation is light, full of easy laughter as takeout containers litter the table.

Seung-hyun, as usual, is sitting a little farther back, comfortable but observant. He’s listening more than speaking—though you know that’s only because he’s still trying to figure out how to handle you. You, of course, have no intention of making that easier.

“Hyung, you’re too picky,” Youngbae is saying, pointing at Seung-hyun. “You always turn down girls who like you, and then you complain that dating is a hassle.”

“I don’t complain,” Seung-hyun corrects smoothly.

Daesung snorts. “You so do.”

Youngbae nods, grinning. “Right? You never even give them a chance.”

Your lips curl. Interesting. You tilt your head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? Is that true, Seung-hyun?”

The way his shoulders immediately tense is so satisfying. He doesn’t look at you—just takes a sip of his drink, as if buying time. “I’m just selective,” he mutters.

Daesung grins. “Selective? More like impossible to please.”

Ji-yong chuckles, shaking his head. “You guys act like he doesn’t have standards. Maybe he’s just waiting for the right person.”

Your smile grows. Oh, this is too easy. Leaning forward slightly, you rest your chin in your hand, looking directly at Seung-hyun. “And who is the right person, exactly?”

There’s a split second where his fingers tighten around his glass—just enough for you to notice. The air shifts just enough for him to notice. And now? He’s stuck.

Daesung lets out a dramatic sigh. “We may never know. He’ll take his secrets to the grave.”

Youngbae laughs. “Seriously, what kind of person would pass your test?”

Seung-hyun clears his throat. “I don’t have a test.”

You hum, tapping a finger against your lips. “No test? So technically, anyone has a chance?”

Finally—finally—he looks at you. Dark eyes, sharp and guarded, like he knows exactly what you’re doing. It’s thrilling. But he’s not getting out of this that easily. Tilting your head slightly, you keep your gaze steady, your tone light. “Or maybe you just like to admire from afar?”

The tension in the air is almost imperceptible—just a little too thick, just a little too charged. And you know he feels it too.

But before he can even attempt an answer, Ji-yong groans. “God, this is getting sad. Maybe we should set him up with someone.”

“No.”

“Whoa, okay. That was dramatic.”

Daesung snickers. “Did you already have someone in mind?”

You see the way Seung-hyun clenches his jaw, the way he’s fighting so hard to keep himself neutral.

And you? You love it. You give him one last knowing glance before turning back to your drink, sipping casually like nothing just happened.

“Yeah, Seung-hyun,” you muse. “Do you?”

He definitely stops breathing for a second.

And you? You just sit there, perfectly innocent, perfectly unbothered—because this game isn’t over yet. Not even close. As soon as the words leave your lips, you see it happen. 

Youngbae’s eyebrows rise. Daesung's mouth parts slightly. A slow, mischievous grin starts creeping onto their faces as realization clicks. Seung-hyun knows it too. You watch his fingers tighten slightly around his glass, his expression frozen in carefully manufactured indifference. But it’s useless—they see it now.

“Oh,” Youngbae breathes, leaning back against the couch. “Ohhh.”

Daesung barely contains a laugh, nudging Youngbae. “Wait, wait. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Youngbae smirks. “That depends.”

Ji-yong, oblivious as ever, frowns at them. “Thinking what?”

Seung-hyun shoots them both a warning look—sharp, desperate. But that only makes it worse.

Daesung bites his lip, struggling to hold back his amusement. “I mean… you did say earlier that Seung-hyun doesn’t flirt—he just stares longingly from afar.”

Youngbae nods sagely. “And that sounded ridiculous at first, but now? Now, I think maybe—just maybe—it’s not so ridiculous.”

Seung-hyun exhales through his nose, clearly trying to keep himself together. “You’re both idiots.”

“Ohhh, but are we?” Daesung teases.

Youngbae snickers. “So, hyung. When were you gonna tell us?”

Seung-hyun’s jaw tightens. “Tell you what?”

Youngbae grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. “That you have a little crush—”

“I don’t.”

Daesung gasps dramatically. “So defensive!”

Ji-yong squints at them. “Wait, what the hell are you guys talking about?”

Uh-oh.

This is the perfect moment to intervene. You tilt your head, feigning confusion. “Oh, nothing, Ji.” Then, you shoot a pointed look at Youngbae and Daesung, warning them silently. Don't you dare.

For a second, they actually consider it. Then, Youngbae huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing, nothing. Just messing with Seung-hyun.”

Ji-yong, thankfully, lets it go, rolling his eyes. “You guys are annoying.”

Seung-hyun, meanwhile, looks like he’s never been so grateful for anything in his life. But just when he thinks he’s safe, you lean slightly toward him, voice soft enough that only he can hear.

“You didn’t deny the staring part, though.”

Seung-hyun freezes. You don’t wait for him to respond—you just smile sweetly, reaching for your drink like nothing happened. But you can feel him watching you now, even as the others shift back into normal conversation. This game is far from over. You can feel the tension radiating off of him, but you don’t acknowledge it. No, you keep your expression cool, your smile perfectly neutral, as if you haven’t just rattled him to his core.

Although, Youngbae and Daesung aren’t done: the story isn’t complete yet, not now that they’ve picked up on something else, there’s no way they’re letting it go. But instead of targeting Seung-hyun this time, they turn to you.

"So," Daesung starts, far too casually, leaning forward with his chin resting on his hand. "I’ve been thinking."

Youngbae hums in agreement. "A rare occurrence, but go on."

Daesung ignores him. "We've spent so much time focusing on his love life—or lack thereof—but we haven’t asked about yours."

"Oh, come on. I’d know if she was dating anyone." Ji-yong immediately scoffs.

You chance a glance at Seung-hyun out of the corner of your eye. His jaw barely tenses. It’s subtle—so subtle that no one else would notice. Nobody else should have noticed. But you do. Unfortunately, so do Youngbae and Daesung.

The former tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he studies your expression. "Then tell us, Ji-yong. When was the last time she had a crush?"

Ji-yong pauses, frowning. "How would I—" He stops. Blinks. Then turns to you. "Wait, yeah. When was the last time?"

Your fingers tighten slightly around your drink. You can’t hesitate. If you hesitate, they’ll know. So you take a slow sip, letting them stew for a second. Then, with an infuriatingly innocent expression, you shrug. "Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I have one right now."

Lies. Seung-hyun shifts next to you, just barely. You can feel his eyes flicker toward you, even though he knows better than to look directly. Youngbae and Daesung share the same knowing—smug—expression.

"You don’t think you do?"

"That’s a funny way to put it."

You tilt your head slightly, playing along. "Is it?"

Seung-hyun shifts again. This time, Daesung definitely notices. His smirk grows.

"Hyung," he says, turning back to Seung-hyun with a far too innocent expression. "What do you think?"

Seung-hyun doesn’t look up from his drink. "I think you two should mind your business."

Youngbae chuckles. "Uh-huh. Sounds like someone who wants an answer, though."

You hum, tapping your fingers against your glass. "Yeah, Seung-hyun. Do you want to know?"

This time, he does look at you. It’s brief—so brief that, again, no one else would pick up on it. But you see it. The way his eyes flicker with something unreadable. Something he can’t mask fast enough.

And unfortunately for you—this time, you react. Your breath catches. Not audibly, not dramatically—just a small, split-second hesitation. The slightest widening of your eyes. A flicker of something vulnerable, something exposed, before you can pull your guard back up. But it’s too late. Because Youngbae sees it. And Daesung definitely sees it.

The shift in their expressions is instant. Youngbae’s smirk freezes mid-form before morphing into something far more intriguing. Daesung’s eyebrows lift slightly, his gaze darting between you and Seung-hyun like he just stumbled upon the greatest inside joke of all time. And that’s when you realize. They know. Not just about Seung-hyun, but about you.

Your heart drops.

Daesung leans back slightly, arms folding across his chest. "Ohh," he hums, voice dripping with realization.

Youngbae exhales, eyes flicking toward Ji-yong—who, miraculously, is still oblivious—before settling back on you with pure amusement. "Well, well, well."

"Oh, shit," Daesung giggles to himself, eyes widening just slightly before his grin turns absolutely devious.

Youngbae presses his lips together like he’s holding back laughter. "Wow."

They know. And they are going to make your life hell.

Ji-yong just laughs. "She wouldn’t go for someone like Seung-hyun anyway."

Silence.

You blink. Seung-hyun goes rigid.

And Daesung and Youngbae?

They are eating this up.

"Wait, wait, wait." Daesung holds up a hand, grinning wildly. "Someone like Seung-hyun? What does that mean?"

Ji-yong shrugs, completely unaware. "I mean, he’s just—he’s Seung-hyun."

Youngbae leans in, "and that means?"

Ji-yong frowns. "I don’t know! He can be… serious and weird and…" He pauses, then snorts. "And terrible with feelings."

Seung-hyun exhales slowly, probably debating multiple ways to kill him.

Daesung turns back to you, eyes twinkling. "Well? What do you think? Would you ever go for someone like Seung-hyun?"

"What?" You blink, suddenly way too aware of all their eyes on you.

Daesung leans forward, eyes gleaming. "You got real quiet there."

Youngbae grins. "Yeah, she did."

Ji-yong tilts his head, confused. "What, does that mean yes?"

Your face heats instantly. "No!"

Daesung and Youngbae exchange a look once more.

Youngbae lets out a low whistle. "That reaction was way too strong."

Ji-yong narrows his eyes at you now, completely focused. "Wait. Do you actually have a crush on someone?"

Your heart is beating out your chest, you are sure you can hear the blood in your veins.

Abort. Abort.

"I—" You shake your head, your face growing hotter by the second. "That’s not—"

"Oh my God," Daesung breathes. "You do."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Stop."

"Nah, this is too good."

Ji-yong, however, is not grinning. He crosses his arms, scowling. "Why wouldn’t you tell me?"

You shake your head, scrambling for some kind of escape. "Because it’s not a big deal, and that’s not exactly something I’d tell my own brother or his little friends!"

"Not a big deal?" Daesung whistles. "That was a huge reaction, though."

Youngbae nods in agreement. "Yeah, and it’s someone in our circle, isn’t it?"

Ji-yong scoffs. "Well, obviously. She barely hangs out with anyone outside of us." Then his eyes narrow again. "Wait. Who?"

You don’t dare look at Seung-hyun now. Not when you know Youngbae and Daesung are already onto you. Not when your traitorous face is burning.

Seung-hyun, to his credit, stays completely silent while he’s staring at his drink. He hasn’t said a word, hasn’t moved, hasn’t breathed too hard—probably terrified that any sudden motion will make this whole thing explode in his face.

And honestly? You’re starting to panic, too.

Ji-yong’s narrowed eyes haven’t left you once since Daesung and Youngbae started their little game.

"You know," Ji-yong muses, tilting his head, "I tell you everything. But you’re keeping secrets?"

You groan. "Oh my God. It’s not a secret. It’s just not important!"

Youngbae leans in, grinning. "That’s funny, because the more you say that, the more important it sounds."

Ji-yong points at him. "Exactly! Thank you."

Daesung hums, nodding. "It’s definitely someone we know."

Ji-yong stills. His gaze sharpens. "Ohhh," he drawls, realisation settling in. "Wait. Wait. You do like someone here."

"No, I—"

"I knew something was off!" Ji-yong cuts in, pointing at you now. "You never get flustered like this unless you’re hiding something. That’s so suspicious."

You huff, crossing your arms. "You’re so dramatic."

"You’re so obvious!"

Daesung chuckles. "It is kind of obvious."

Youngbae sighs wistfully. "I remember when she used to be good at hiding things."

You glare at both of them. "You two are the worst."

"Yeah, yeah," Ji-yong waves you off. "Just tell me who it is."

You scoff. "No."

His eyebrows shoot up. "Excuse me?"

"No."

"No?" He gapes at you. "Are you kidding me? I tell you everything!"

"I didn’t ask you to!"

"That’s not the point!"

"It absolutely is!"

Youngbae and Daesung exchange a look.

Youngbae whistles lowly. "Oof. That’s gonna sting, Ji."

Ji-yong scowls again, waving a dismissive hand. "I don’t keep secrets from her. She’s just a terrible sister."

"Oh, my God." You roll your eyes. "So dramatic."

He turns back to you, jabbing a finger in your direction. "I will find out."

You stare at him, unimpressed. "Congratulations?"

Daesung snorts. "Oh, she’s playing dirty now."

Ji-yong groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Just tell me."

"Just drop it."

He scoffs. "Never."

You cross your arms tighter, not breaking eye contact. Ji-yong mirrors you, narrowing his eyes. A stand-off.

The tension between you is so thick, even Seung-hyun shifts slightly—probably torn between horror and amusement.

Ji-yong exhales sharply, then gestures vaguely toward the rest of the group. "Fine. We’ll just narrow it down. If it’s someone we know, then it’s—what, one of our staff? A manager? One of the dancers? A trainee—"

"Or someone in this room?"

Your breath catches. Too long. You hesitated too long. And Ji-yong—God bless his overly suspicious little brain—zeroes in immediately. His whole expression shifts. 

"Wait." You swear the entire air changes. "Wait, wait, wait." Ji-yong's eyes narrow, scanning the room. "Is it—" He turns to Youngbae. "It’s not you, right?"

Youngbae almost chokes on his drink. "Uh—no."

"Daesung?"

Daesung lifts his hands innocently. "Not me either."

Ji-yong’s eyes flicker toward Seung-hyun—

And then right past him.

He laughs.

"Pfft. Yeah, right. It’s definitely not him."

Silence.

A very loud silence.

You do not move.

Seung-hyun does not move.

But Daesung and Youngbae?

They both react.

Youngbae inhales too sharply.

Daesung bites his lip, looking far too amused.

And it’s so subtle—so quick—that Ji-yong nearly doesn’t catch it.

Nearly.

But then his grin falters.

And his brain starts thinking.

Processing.

Piecing things together.

"Oh," Daesung breathes, eyes wide.

Ji-yong frowns. "What?"

Youngbae exhales heavily. "Shit."

Ji-yong’s eyes narrow.

"What."

You swallow.

Abort. Abort.

Ji-yong glances at you first. Then at Youngbae. Then at Daesung.

And then, finally—

His gaze lands on Seung-hyun.

And Seung-hyun?

Seung-hyun is way too stiff. Too silent. Too composed.

Ji-yong squints at you, then at Youngbae and Daesung, who both look like they’ve just uncovered the juiciest secret in existence.

“…What?” he asks, suspicious.

“Nothing,” Youngbae says way too quickly.

“Absolutely nothing,” Daesung echoes, nodding along.

You, however, are still reeling. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck, pooling in your cheeks, but you force yourself to scoff, rolling your eyes as if you have the upper hand. “You guys are so weird. Can we move on now?”

Ji-yong’s suspicion deepens. His gaze flickers between you and Seung-hyun, then back to Youngbae and Daesung, then back to you.

“…Wait.”

Oh no.

Your stomach clenches as Ji-yong tilts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. He’s staring at you the way he does when he’s trying to remember song lyrics—turning things over in his mind, waiting for the right pieces to snap into place.

You scramble to act normal. Which, in this moment, means doing everything but that.

“You’re being dramatic,” you say, waving him off. “Seriously, drop it.”

But now he’s really looking at you.

And then—he looks at Seung-hyun.

Seung-hyun, who has been painstakingly silent this entire time.

Ji-yong’s expression shifts. He doesn’t say anything right away, but something about his eyes sharpens. His lips press together, and his fingers drum idly against the side of his knee. He’s definitely putting something together.

Your chest tightens. “Ji-yong—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he interrupts, sitting up straighter, pointing a finger at you. “Why are you getting all defensive?”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You so are—”

“I—oh my god,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re hiding something!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!”

Youngbae clears his throat, clearly enjoying the show. “Should we step outside?”

Ji-yong shoots him a glare, but you can tell his focus is still on you. His mind is whirring. You can practically hear it.

Then—

His gaze flicks to Seung-hyun one more time.

And something clicks.

His face doesn’t shift immediately. It’s a slow transition, like the sun creeping over the horizon. The slight widening of his eyes. The realization settling into his features. The way his posture straightens just a little as understanding dawns.

He exhales sharply, eyes narrowing. “…No way.”

Your heart stops.

Youngbae and Daesung freeze, giddy anticipation all over their faces.

Ji-yong leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. And when he speaks again—

His voice is much lower.

Much more dangerous.

“…Who is it?”

Your pulse is hammering.

Ji-yong’s eyes are locked on you, sharp with suspicion, like he’s hunting for something—waiting for the tiniest misstep, the smallest flicker in your expression that will confirm his theory.

You can’t let that happen. So you straighten your spine, forcing an incredulous scoff. “Are you serious right now?”

Ji-yong’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Who is it?”

“There is no it!”

“There is, and you’re being so obvious.”

“I’m not—”

“You so are.”

“I literally—”

“You literally suck at lying.”

Your frustration spikes. “And you literally need to get a life—”

“I will when you tell me—”

“Oh my god, Ji-yong—”

“What, is he some industry guy?” He presses, cutting you off. “Someone I know?” His voice takes on a slight edge. “Someone who’s trying to use you? Because I swear—”

“You don’t have to fight every single guy who dares to look at me.” You snap.

“You think this is about me fighting them?” He gestures wildly. “You have no idea how many guys I’ve had to deal with over the years, okay? You’re too nice, and they take advantage of that—”

You throw your hands in the air. “Oh, I’m so sorry for being nice, Ji-yong. Clearly that’s such a character flaw—”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re missing the point!”

“What is the point!?”

“THE POINT IS—”

And then, all at once, you remember your audience.

The room is dead silent. Youngbae and Daesung are both sitting completely still, eyes ping-ponging between the two of you with rapt fascination. They’re loving this.

Seung-hyun looks like he’s about to die. His entire posture is rigid, his jaw tight, hands clasped together like he’s physically holding himself in place. He’s been silent this whole time, which is suspicious on its own, and you know Ji-yong’s going to notice that if he hasn’t already.

You have to shut this down. Fast. So you exhale sharply, pulling your expression into something cool and unaffected. “You know what?” you say, voice suddenly light, like this isn’t the most stressful moment of your life. “Believe whatever you want.”

Ji-yong’s eyes narrow. “Oh, now you wanna stop talking?”

“Yup,” you chirp, standing up. “I’ve decided I’m bored.”

“Bullshit.”

“Too bad,” you retort, spinning on your heel, already making your way toward the door.

“Hey—”

“You guys have fun figuring out whatever,” you call over your shoulder. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

And with that—you leave. You’re not even thirsty, you just needed some sort of excuse to get out of there. Your heart still hammering, adrenaline pulsing through your veins. Although, you only make it to the hallway when you hear hurried footsteps behind you. Oh, for fuck sake…

“You really think you can just walk away?” Ji-yong’s voice is sharp, his steps closing in before he cuts you off completely, stepping in front of you. His arms cross, expression unreadable.

You sigh, already exhausted. “Ji-yong—”

His eyes flicker between you and the room the two of you had just left, the door still wide open. You watch as he begins to truly piece it together in real time. Oh shit.

He doesn’t even have to say it. You can see it in his face. The realization clicking into place.

You shake your head immediately. “No. Nope. Nope. Don’t even—”

“Seung-hyun…? Seriously!?”

“I—”

“It is!”

“Ji-yong!”

He laughs, but he is not amused. It’s half disbelieving, half ‘what the fuck.’ Then, his entire expression shifts: the teasing drops, his jaw tenses and his posture straightens. Suddenly, you realize your brother is pissed. 

Too stubborn to back down, you mirror his expression. “You’re acting like I committed treason, or something.”

Ignoring your comment, he shoots back with, “does he know?” 

Your patience snaps like a thread pulled too tight; a thread that had been holding on for a little too long.

“Oh my god, Ji-yong! Do you even hear yourself?” Your voice is sharp, raw—laced with something deeper than just frustration. “Every single time I try to live my own life, you have to get involved! You act like I can’t make my own choices, like I need you to filter every guy before I’m allowed to like someone—do you even realize how controlling that is?”

Ji-yong blinks, stunned—like he wasn’t expecting you to actually snap this time.

But you’re not done.

“You sit here and wonder why my friends disappear,” you spit, voice shaking with the force of your anger, “why people don’t stick around—but maybe it’s because the second they get too close, you come barging in like it’s your business. Like you have the right to decide who’s good enough for me.”

His lips part like he wants to argue, but you cut him off with a sharp, bitter laugh.

“And the worst part?” Your chest heaves. “You don’t even see it. You don’t see what you’re doing. You don’t see how exhausting it is to have your own brother constantly standing in the way of every single connection I try to make.”

Ji-yong’s jaw tightens, but you don’t care.

“I’m so tired of this, Ji-yong,” you grind out, voice low, but heavy with everything you’ve been holding back for years. “And I’m so tired of you acting like it’s your job to control who I let into my life.”

Silence.

A thick, suffocating silence where Ji-yong just stares at you, eyes flickering with emotions you don’t have the patience to decipher.

But you don’t wait for him to speak. You step around him, and this time, he doesn’t stop you. This time, you leave—anger burning in your veins, hands trembling, throat tight. This time, Ji-yong finally realizes he might have actually pushed you too far.

Back in the lounge, the room is dead silent. Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves. 

Seung-hyun sits stiffly, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles turn white. Across from him, Daesung and Youngbae exchange wary glances, but neither of them says a word. They don’t need to. Because the moment Ji-yong walks back in, it’s over. His face is eerily blank—too controlled, too calm—but his eyes? His eyes tell Seung-hyun everything.

Ji-yong knows.

Seung-hyun barely breathes. The weight of Ji-yong’s stare feels heavy, pressing into him like a slow-building storm. It’s not just anger—it’s betrayal, confusion, something deeper that Seung-hyun can’t quite name.

Finally, Ji-yong exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. He lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “You know,” he mutters, voice quieter than usual, “if someone tried this, I always figured it’d be some asshole I’d have to deal with.” His jaw clenches. “Not you.”

Seung-hyun’s stomach tightens. Daesung and Youngbae are still silent, watching like they’re caught in a war they never signed up for.

Ji-yong lets the quiet stretch between them, running his tongue over his teeth. Then, finally—softly, almost like he doesn’t even want the answer—he asks, “How long?”

He could lie. He could deflect, like you had tried so hard to. But the truth is, he doesn’t even remember when it started. When admiring you from afar turned into this. Whatever this is. When his restraint became a constant battle. When he started memorizing the way you laugh, the way your eyes light up when you’re teasing someone—when it became so hard to look away.

Ji-yong exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

But his voice isn’t just angry. It’s conflicted. Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s Seung-hyun. Not some random guy using Ji-yong to get to you. Not someone who would break your heart without a second thought. It’s his friend. Someone he’s known for years. Someone he trusts.

And yet, you’re his sister. His little sister.

Seung-hyun clenches his jaw, watching as Ji-yong rubs his temple, like he’s trying to will away the entire situation.

“You—” Ji-yong exhales, frustrated, torn, his emotions battling just beneath the surface. “You’re a good guy, hyung, I know that. But she’s—” His voice falters. “She’s my sister. She’s my responsibility. Do you get how hard that is? Do you get why this isn’t just—” He gestures vaguely, frustration thick in his movements. “Why this isn’t just something I can ignore?”

You’re his little sister. The one he’s protected since childhood. The one he’s chased off guys for, the one he’s warned every single friend about. You’re the person Ji-yong has practically raised alongside his career—the one thing in his life that has never been negotiable.

His voice drops lower. Dangerous.

“She’s not some girl you can just admire from across the room.” His eyes are sharp, unwavering. “She’s not a fling.”

Seung-hyun’s chest tightens. “I know that,” he grits out.

“Do you?”

The air feels thick. Youngbae and Daesung exchange a glance, but neither interrupts. They know better.

Ji-yong shakes his head, pacing once before turning back, voice rising slightly. “Do you even know what it’s like? Every guy that’s tried to get close to me just to get to her? The ones that act like her friend until they think they have a shot?” His hands clenched into fists. “You have no idea how many people I’ve had to shove out of her life, how many assholes I’ve had to warn to stay the fuck away—”

“Do you think I’m one of them?” Seung-hyun cuts in. His voice is steady, but underneath it is something sharp.

Ji-yong falters.

Seung-hyun steps forward now, his own frustration building. His heart is pounding, his hands are shaking, but his voice? His voice is calm. “Do you think I’d ever do that to her?”

Ji-yong doesn’t answer right away, but Seung-hyun sees it—the hesitation. The way something flickers in Ji-yong’s eyes, something that looks like doubt. Not doubt in him, necessarily. Doubt in himself. Because he knows Seung-hyun isn’t like the others.

But it doesn’t make it easier.

He turns abruptly, heading for the door, but before he leaves, he stops—just for a second. Then, without looking back, he says, low and dangerous—

“If you break her heart, I don’t care who you are—I will kill you.”

And then, just like that, he’s gone. The silence he leaves behind is deafening.

Seung-hyun lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Youngbae and Daesung don’t say anything. They don’t need to.

And now, the real question is… what happens next?

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @mattsturniolosbabymama @redhoodedtoad @bettelaboure @cinnamonbear22 @xxxicddbr88 @petersasteria

[xmunsonlovex]

Somewhere I Belong pt. 2

Summary: After your heated kiss at The Hideout, you're aching, and eager to continue your date with Eddie. You hope he wants the same.

pt.1

Word Count: 6800+

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut. making out, grinding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, brief hand job, some dirty talk, role-playing (short lived, because neither reader or Eddie can't hold it together.) Eddie is anxious of reader seeing his scars, reader second guesses herself a lot and opens up to Eddie, fluff.

a/n: here's pt. 2! I am shocked and so appreciative of how well received pt.1 was! Thank you to all who read it and commented/reblogged. I didn't feel 100% with how this part was coming along, but after reading it over hundreds of times...I think I am happy with it. I am planning on a part 3, which will most likely be the final chapter. As always, please let me know what you think <3

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You’re pacing your living room, hands clammy as you run them over yourself, trying to calm the anxiety you’re feeling. Eddie said he’d be over in about 30 minutes, mentioning that he had to drop off the guys first since they rode with him to the bar, and then he wanted to take a quick shower, not wanting for you to smell the sweat and smoke that usually stuck to his skin after his performances at The Hideout. On the drive home, you had replayed the kiss from earlier in your mind at least a thousand times, smiling to yourself at the prospect of continuing it at your place. You made sure to tidy up, not wanting to take the next step of this date in a messy house. Would he even care how your house looked? Probably not. You weren’t sure where this would lead to, but you were pretty hopeful. You could see yourself dating Eddie, and wondered if he felt the same. You had a feeling he did. 

“I can do this..” You mumble, looking out your window to see if Eddie was home yet. He wasn't, his van was not there and the lights inside of what you assumed was his bedroom, are off. 

You thought about changing into something a little bit more provocative, though you didn't really have anything like that in your possession currently. Well, you did have a satin camisole with a lace trim at the bottom and matching shorts, that quite literally left your ass cheeks hanging out. It was gifted to you by a friend before you made your move to Hawkins. She said it would help in getting you lucky. At the time, you laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but now, it was looking like a real possibility. You’ll have to call her up and thank her. Hmm. If you wore it, maybe you could opt out of wearing any undergarments. That'd fry Eddie's brain, you're sure. You're so deep in thought that you don't hear Eddie's van drive up. He’s quiet this time, his music is off and he purposely shuts his door softly, going up the steps, into his trailer. He didn't want you to know he was there. Yet. 

Eddie turns the shower on, making it a bit nippier than usual to calm the heat that radiates from his body. He feels like a damn teenager again, dealing with raging hormones as you consume his thoughts at every hour of the day. He's had a throbbing erection ever since your heated kiss, which was so rudely interrupted by Gareth. He tilts his head back as his hand glides over his cock, washing away the salty sweat that clung to his skin after his performance, and lets out a soft moan, shuddering at the firm grip. A relief he’s sure you'd be amazing at giving him. He bets your delicate hands would feel great on him, stroking him as he'd guide you through it. He really likes knowing that he'd be your first at everything, if you'd have him, of course. Eddie had a lot of things he wanted needed to do to you. He needed to taste every inch of you, imagining that you’d taste heavily on his tongue. Needed to know your scent, have it pervade his nostrils. Eddie was completely infatuated with you, and wasn't sure how he could act normal around you anymore. Not after that kiss. You had left him smitten. 

The blinds in your bedroom swiftly moved, causing the curtain to ripple at the movement. This paused the whirlwind of thoughts that were going through your head. You crease your eyebrows because you know they only did that when the doors in the trailer would open and shut thereafter. You had noticed this happen when Eddie came in one day earlier in the week to look at the faucet in your bathroom, and when he closed the door, the blinds shook. You still hadn’t heard Eddie’s music blaring from his van though, so you walked to the living room, now dressed in your “provocative” clothes you decided to put on, and looked around. The front door was still shut closed, and there was no sign of anyone breaking in while you were in your bedroom. This would be quite possibly the worst time for someone to break in, while you stand there in this barely there outfit and no weapon nearby to protect yourself. Shit. Maybe I should have locked the door.

“Mmm, my, my. What have we got here? Looking so lonely, princess.“ Eddie’s voice says from behind you. “Didn’t your mom always say to lock your doors at night? A lot of bad, scary guys out there, baby.” He grins mischievously, his eyes slowly scanning your figure. His throat becomes dry at seeing your nipples poke through the thin fabric of the camisole. 

“Holy shit Eddie, you scared me!” You had jumped when you heard his voice, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, your lower back pressed up against it. He lets out a dark chuckle, like he’s enjoying playing this “bad, scary man who just “broke in”. 

“You wanted me to walk right in..well, here I am, babe.” He’s acting so confident but inside, he's ready to bust at the seams. “And I gotta say, you look like a meal. I could devour you right about now..” He takes a step closer to you, reaching out to run his thumb over your lower lip. “The whole ride home, I just..couldn't wait to see you. Wanna continue what we started..” You whisper as you look at him, noticing that his eyes are darker, filled with lust. You’re sure you look desperate, you definitely sound it. His lips form into a teasing smirk, running his tongue along his canine tooth all while his pants are feeling tighter and tighter. “I'm going to take my time with you. If you’ll let me, I'll untie your sensuality. I'll open up your heart, and satisfy my greed.” Eddie says, his breath hitting your neck as he’s pressed up against you, placing both hands next to yours on the kitchen counter, enclosing you with his body. You can distinctly feel his hard-on poking you against your mound. His lips are inches, if not centimeters, away from your skin, waiting for you to give him the ok to continue. He is a gentleman, after all. 

“I’ll-I will let you, Ed’s.” You say, all breathy and feeling weak in the knees. You're thankful he's got you pressed up against him because you were certain you'd drop onto the floor into a puddle of your own arousal. You feel his hot, wet mouth on your neck, giving you your very first hickey, causing you to let out a quiet moan. “You like how that feels?” Eddie smirks, moving one of his hands to hold onto your waist, gripping it as he goes in for another hickey, running the tip of his tongue over his mark, proud to make you his. To show everyone you belong to him. 

“Yes. That feels nice..” You’re certain he knows that you’re practically putty in his hands.

“Can't wait to lay you down and show you just how much you’ve consumed my mind. All the filthy thoughts I've had of you. Do you know how many scenarios I played in my head while I fucked my fist?” His smirks, running the hand he had on your hip down over your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. He doesn't miss the soft whimper you let out, making him growl lowly as he lunges forward to kiss you deeply, holding you in his arms. Your tongues are wrestling when he feels you grind against him, which nearly makes him short-circuit, about to lose the little composure he had left. “Fuck..” He mumbles, and sees you place both your hands over his chest, leading him to your couch. You’re currently super grateful to have that annoyingly large couch you had previously complained so much about. Eddie gently plummets down on the soft cushions, and immediately your eyes fall towards the prominent tent in his jeans. You're giddy knowing you caused that, and feeling empowered by the little confidence boost you’ve gained. Yet Eddie notes the obvious nerves while your hands tremble a bit just as you’re about to take off those small shorts.

 “Baby…you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. I'm fine with stroking one out, looking at you just like this.” He smirked and chuckled, hoping he hasn't caused you to think otherwise. That’s the last thing he’d want. 

“I know. I..I mean, I am a little nervous but...” You let out a soft chuckle, feeling chills run up your spine as his hand softly strokes the outside of your thigh. “But I want to at least do something tonight. Who better to guide me..than you..” You blush and lean over to pull down your shorts, letting them pool around your ankles. “Darlin’, you flatter me- oh fuck..” Eddie groaned, taking in your bare lower half as his eyes followed your movements. You chew on your inner cheek, hands nervously grabbing at the edge of the camisole you're about to remove. 

“I..want to grind on you..” 

“You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart. You could fucking shoot me, and I'd thank you for it.” He scoffed, thinking you could do no wrong in his eyes. You were perfect to him.

“Heh..uhm. Well, it’s something I saw in a video one time. I‘d like to try it.” His eyes are wide and lips are parted. You watch porn? You were indeed perfect.

 “Go for it, sweetheart. Experiment on me, but first..” He leans over to grab your shorts that you had stepped out of, and bunches them in his hand, feeling a damp spot on the crotch of them. A smirk forms on his face as he looks at the shorts, noticing the wet spot and puts it up to his nose, inhaling deeply and he lets out a satisfied sigh. God, you smell so sweet. 

“Eddie..!” You’re embarrassed, covering your face with your hands. 

“What? D’you know how long I've wanted to smell you?” He’s got that shit-eating grin, content in now knowing your scent, feeling like he’s hit a jackpot. He's definitely saving those shorts for himself. She won't mind.

You softly laugh, and let out a heavy sigh through your nose as you pull the camisole over your head, now standing fully nude for Eddie. The speed in which you undressed yourself for him honestly left you astounded. You know it went against everything that you kept telling yourself, but you came to the conclusion that Eddie made you feel safe, that he’d never want to hurt you. You bite your lower lip at how he’s staring at you with hungry eyes, his mouth practically watering as he watches every small movement you make. 

“I fear I've died and gone to heaven because holy shit, sweetheart. You're perfect.” His cock is painfully hard, ready to burst through the tight confinements of his pants when you walk over to him, and straddle his lap. He is able to feel your heat through the thick fabric of his pants, which makes his hips involuntarily thrust up, feeling like a damn dog in heat. 

“May I?” You ask, tugging on his belt, but wait for him to respond before you start to unbuckle it.

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, though he's hardly paying attention to what you're even asking in that moment. He's too busy watching your delicate hands pull his zipper down, admiring how gentle you're being while you were appreciative of how patient he was. You felt you were moving at a snail's pace, at least that's how it felt like in your mind since you wanted to savor the moment. Eddie's sight had moved towards your breasts, admiring how supple they looked and how perfect they'd fit in his mouth. His eyes slowly trailed back down to your hands again, and then back up to your face, smiling at your blushing cheeks. “You're so beautiful..” He whispers and in your giddy state, you lean over to kiss him. Before he knew it, his cock was sprung free and you let out an audible gasp. 

“W-what? What's wrong?” Eddie looked at you, wondering if you suddenly had seen his scars. He wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. 

“You're so big..” You say, and reach out to wrap your hand around his width, able to feel him throb against your palm. The velvety skin felt smooth and warm as you make out the thick vein that was on the underside of his cock as you start stroking him, watching him crease his eyebrows, biting his lip. You wondered how he'd even fit in you when it came time for that, especially since you couldn't barely fit 2 fingers inside yourself.

“You're doing great, Y/N.. “ He spurs you on, grunting with each stroke you give him, which has him a whiny mess as you squeeze the head of his cock gently, spreading the pearlescent precum around, much to your curiosity. You gently press his cock down against his lower tummy, and maneuver your cunt over the underside of his shaft, sitting on him and do an experimental roll of your hips, earning a groan from both you and Eddie. “Fuck. I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I am going to last very long...” He’s watching you as his hands find purchase on your upper thighs, keeping you in place. You start rocking your hips forward in a more fluid pace, grinding yourself on him and moaning at the sweet relief you feel everytime your clit rubs against his cock. The friction you feel is borderline intoxicating, nothing you've ever felt before when you'd touch yourself. Despite the lack of experience, you weren't totally clueless, knowing you enjoyed how elated you'd get after an orgasm. You loved chasing that feeling.

“You're so wet, baby. Can't wait to eat that pretty pussy of yours. Bet you taste so sweet, like a delicious dessert..” Eddie grins and watches you, seeing how your breasts moved with the way you were gliding up and down on him. It had him incredibly, and embarrassingly close to cumming.

All that's heard in the small trailer is your moans along with Eddie's heavy panting as his grip on your thighs move to your hips, tightening his hold on you. “Faster..” He grunts, observing the trail of slick you're leaving on the underside of his dick the faster you grind. You're leaning over him now with both your hands on his chest, holding you up as you chase your own pleasure and orgasm, knowing you're about to reach that peak. “Fuuuck..” Eddie breathes out, gripping your hips even harder now as his cum spurts out onto his stomach, a large load from being virtually teased all evening. The image of him orgasming,  because of you…topples you over the edge. “Eddie!” You moan out, shutting your eyes tightly as you cum. Your movements come to a halt when you feel yourself a bit overstimulated, never being able to handle crossing that line. You're both trying to recollect yourselves, heartbeat thumping in your ears from the intensity of it all. 

“Was it everything you wanted it to be?” Eddie breaks the silence, smirking and chuckles, looking down at his stomach, seeing the mess he made, and then the mess you made on his cock. That brought him joy. Knowing that he barely touched you. That you used him to get off, he loved it. He could get used to that. 

“Yes..that was amazing..” you giggle and let out a deep, satisfied sigh, a small smile spreading on your lips as you stand up. Your legs are still wobbly from the intense orgasm, and you walk over to the lining closet, pulling the door open and grab a couple of hand towels to clean up. You're walking back to Eddie, and see him watching you like a hawk. “Babe, next time, I do the honors. Pretty thing like you shouldn't have to worry about cleaning this up.” Eddie says as he grabs the towel from your hands and cleans himself up. Next time. You like the sound of that. 

“Such a gentleman.” You blush as you grab the camisole, slipping it back on, and chuckle at Eddie who is frowning at you. “I had such a nice view.” He tsk, and stands up, pulling his pants back up, though he leaves them unbuckled. You’re both staring at one another, a small gap between you two. He’s looking at you, really looking at you as his hand reaches out to caress your cheek. He’s not sure how he got so lucky, to have a pretty thing like you honestly interested in him in a romantic sense. He closes the gap, and kisses you tenderly, never getting enough of his lips on yours. 

“We will take things at your pace. If…if you want to continue this. I’m-I don’t even know if you liked me enough to wanna do this again. You had fun, right?” Get it together Eddie, she’ll really want to go on another date now after this rambling.

“Eddie, relax.” You chuckle, smiling fondly at him. He’s so cute. “Yes, I had a lot of fun tonight. Between the concert, and well...” You blush and bite your lower lip. “I was actually going to ask.. if you’d like to spend the night? I have a few horror movies. Maybe pop some popcorn.” 

“Hell yeah, I’ll stay the night. I’ll get the popcorn, you pick the movie.” He kisses you, and walks into the kitchen, looking in all the cupboards for the popcorn box, making himself familiar with where everything was in your trailer. “Ah-ha.” He spots it, and grabs one packet and puts it in the microwave, pressing enter. He watches as you walk past him towards your bedroom,and admires the nice view of your ass, smirking as it jiggles with each step you take. The loud popping of the popcorn pulls his attention off of you in that moment, and he leans over to grab a large enough bowl to fill with the buttery popcorn. You come back around, dressed in just an oversized band tee. “Iron Maiden? You’re full of surprises, honey.” Eddie grins amusingly, as he throws the popcorn bag into the trash. “You have no idea.” You sweetly smile and open your fridge to pull out 2 soda cans, and walk over to the living room, placing the sodas on the coasters that were on the coffee table.

 “I picked Texas Chainsaw Massacre..”

“Going straight for the kill, huh? A classic.” Eddie chuckles and sits down on the couch, getting comfortable as he pats the seat next to him. You realize he still makes you nervous, and you’re not quite sure why. You literally got yourself off on him not even an hour ago, and he’s seen you fully nude now. You suppose that it's because this is the first time you’ve hung around with someone you actually like. And now he’s spending the night? Yeah, you understand why you have butterflies. Regardless, you muster up a smile, albeit a shy one, and sit next to him, thighs touching as you sit back and press play. 

The rest of the night is filled with stolen glances and little pecks here and there, barely paying attention to what’s going on in the movie. You really did intend on watching, but alas, it was just background noise at this point as you two sit there making out, not being able to keep your hands off of each other. It’s close to 1am, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. The movie had long been over, as you lay on Eddie. He’s running his fingers through your hair, and you’re listening to his heartbeat as if it's a lullaby, putting you to sleep. “Let’s head to the room. I reckon we won’t sleep comfortably here if we drift off.” He says, patting your butt to get you to get off of him. Not that he minds, but he moves around. A lot. He’s afraid he’ll knock you over in the middle of the night in his deep sleep. Your hum makes him think you agree with him though, as you stand up, and grab his hand to help pull him up with you. Eddie puts the popcorn bowl and empty soda cans in the kitchen sink, a task for the morning to deal with, and soon you both are in bed, under the thick blankets after brushing your teeth together. 

Eddie’s comfy in your plush bed. Smells much nicer than his, like you had recently washed the sheets, and they’re so much softer. He guesses you use fabric softener? He may have to invest in it if it truly works this well. This whole time he thought it was just a gimmick, but if he plans on having you sleep over too, well..he’ll do what he must.

“G’night Eds..” You say sleepily, laying on your side, facing him.

“Night, sweetheart.” He whispers, and leans over to kiss the top of your head, wrapping his arm around you to keep you warm. The trailer got quite cold, much colder than his, he noticed. His AC was something he usually would hold off on repairing. It was an expensive fix and most times, he slept naked anyway. He didn’t see the need to ever service it but if he was going to have you over like he intended, he definitely had to get it fixed. Eddie kisses your head one last time before you’re both out, soft snores heard shortly after. 

It's not even 10am the next morning and Eddie is already all over you. His body Is hovering over yours, holding his weight up by his forearms. He's giving himself a pat on the back for working out his arms at least. He fills your neck with soft kisses, low groans escaping him as he runs his hand up your thigh, wanting to make you feel like his goddess. That wasn’t an issue because you had never felt this desired in your adult life. 

“Eddie..” You sigh with a sleepy smile. 

“What..?” He grins, moving his lips to the other side of your neck, giving it the same treatment. “Thought I'd wake up early and enjoy the morning with a little morning breakfast.” He smirks, kissing down your neck and throat, peppering kisses along your collarbones. 

“I..I haven't showered this morning though.” You say, as you look at him. It was your routine ever since you were in school. An early morning shower to wake you up and get you ready to tackle the day. 

“You did last night? I smelled that fancy body wash on you when I broke in.” He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly as he continued to make his way lower on you. 

“Yeah, but-”

“Babe. You're fine. Ya’ gotta let it marinate overnight so it tastes perfect, anyway.” He licked his lips, and you gasped out loud. “Eddie!” You playfully smack his upper arm, shaking your head as you see him continue moving on south, a playful grin on his face as he pushes your shirt up around your waist. You've done no real effort in stopping him though, your curiosity getting the best of you. “Please?” He is practically begging now, wanting nothing more than to put his tongue deep in you. He sees you spread your legs a little more, and makes out the small wet spot on your panties already. “I'll take that as a yes?” He says as he lingers over your clothed pussy, pressing a soft kiss to the top hem on your underwear. “Yes.” You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. His gratified look calms your nerves as he takes another deep inhale of your scent, sticking his tongue out to teasing flick at your clit over your underwear. his eyes are stuck on yours as he gauges your expressions, which you were already feeling euphoric with that light touch of his. 

“I'm going to take these off.” He says, hooking his fingers into your panties and slowly slides them down your legs, sitting up a little to toss them to the side of the bed, then looks at your pussy, all spread out for him. “Mm..” he lays on his stomach again, and holds your inner thighs wide open as he licks a slow stripe up your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a nice suck. The moan that left your throat was downright pornographic, making you flush with embarrassment. Eddie could tell, and he’d do anything to help break you out of that self conscious shell you hid behind. His bruising grip on your thighs keep them wide open for him, making you wince in pain and pleasure as he flicked your clit with his tongue, before he slid it into you, his nose bumping into your swollen bud as he relished in your taste. “Fuck, fuuuuck…” You’re writhing underneath him, and grinding on his face as you're already so close to that sweet finish line. 

“Yeah? You like that..?” Eddie groans as he pulls away from your dripping cunt and instead, slowly inserts his middle and ring fingers inside you. “Shit baby, you're so fucking tight..” The obscene sounds that were heard from him fucking you with his fingers should have made you recoil, should have made you want to curl into a ball and hide, but you were feeling too much ecstasy to even care at this point. “Can't wait to stretch you out with my cock, princess..” He groaned, resting his head on the inside of your thigh and looked up at you, a big smirk on his face knowing he's got you right where he wants you. Fucked out with your juices all over him. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby? I can tell you’re close. Squeezing my fingers so good..” He leans in to suck on your clit hard while he keeps fingering you, curling it upwards towards that spongy spot that makes you see stars. “Ed-Eddie! Fuck..I'm cumming..!” You all but yell, gripping his hair as the intense orgasm washes over you. Your heart is beating rapidly and your pussy is throbbing, but Eddie hasn't refrained from moving his fingers, or tongue for that matter. He's licking up every drop you gave him, making sure as to not waste a single bit of your delicious nectar. Your heavy breathing is music to his ears as he places a gentle kiss to your mound, kissing up to your lips, and smiles.

“Morning.” He chuckles, watching as you come down from your high. 

“Oh my god.” You softly laugh, and kiss him in return, tasting yourself on his tongue. “I could get used to being woken up like that.” 

“Consider it done. Every morning, my duty is to sneak into your trailer, hide in your closet while you sleep and then wake you up by feasting on your pussy.” He happily smiles, which causes you to heartedly laugh at his silliness. “Wouldn’t be a surprise if you tell me, now would it?” You play along, biting at your inner cheek. You’re certain Eddie has now picked up on most of your nervous habits. The inner cheek chewing, playing with your fingers, the lip biting, stuttering. You got teased for it a lot in school, yet Eddie finds it cute and endearing.

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, babe. It’s just me. Your cute neighbor...and…maybe boy..friend?” He says the last part as a question, in hopes that he isn’t overstepping. He knows he can do that often, from what others have told him, anyway. Being that obnoxious metalhead kid in high school gave him that title. You look at him, as that familiar reddish blush spreads over your cheeks, the one that he finds so cute. “And I just want to assure you that I know we’ve only known each other for what..a week now? But it’s been the best week of my life, Y/N. I-I don’t get many opportunities that come up for me like this. Meeting a genuinely nice girl…who’s actually into me? Most would say hell hath frozen over now that Eddie Munson got a girlfriend..” He chuckled, pouring his heart out to you. He felt you needed to hear this, so you wouldn’t doubt yourself so much. He could tell you did that often, just like he did to himself. ”I like you..if it wasn’t obvious enough with how much I like to be around you, and in you.” He grinned, reaching out to grab your hand and pulled you up, so that you’d be closer to him.

“I promise I’ll never hurt you..because I feel…you’re quite..apprehensive about that.” He says softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I..yes. I am. This would be my first relationship, like I’ve said. I saw the pain my mom went through when it happened to her. Her previous relationships. One was abusive..one cheated multiple times. She never deserved that..” You softly speak, looking at your hands as you shook your head. “ I don’t..think I could handle that pain, if it happened to me. I know I’m still young..but..” You hesitate continuing to open up, like you normally did with anyone. You sometimes wondered how you even had friends. 

“Talk to me, babe. If we’re going to be build this friendship, this relationship, we gotta get things out in the open. Be honest with each other." Eddie says, stroking your hand. 

“Well, I told you a little bit about my life back at home when you took me to the farmers market. ‘Know that I basically had a rough high school experience. I was that shy, quiet kid in school..ever since forever basically. I did have friends, but kids were so mean. Then I started high school and fucking christ..” You sigh, looking at Eddie, who remained looking at you, trying to be comforting. The more you thought about it, the more you became disappointed in yourself. Why did you let it affect you so much? “I-I guess I had really low self esteem all through my school years. Never had someone show any interest in me, not even an anonymous note in my locker…like they do in the movies, you know?” You chuckle, biting your lip as you feel the emotions start to overwhelm you, so many memories of those days replaying in your mind. “One  time I ask a guy I liked to hang out, I thought maybe he’d be into me a bit. But he literally laughed in my face after turning me down. Saying he didn’t date my kind. Whatever the fuck that meant.” The tears are forming, as you tilt your head up and sniffle, not wanting to cry in front of him. Not again, anyway.

“Baby, here. Look at me.” Eddie’s calm voice pulls you from your negative thoughts. A nagging voice that was always there, saying you weren’t good enough. “I don’t know those people…they sound like absolute fuckers, but I will say…I gotta thank them. You know why? Because you said you left that life at home wanting to escape, wanting to start a new life. Well, I wouldn’t have met you if that didn’t happen. I know that’s selfish, but give me a chance to..show you how good I can love you. Let me erase all those negative thoughts you have in your pretty head. You deserve to feel good about yourself. To be treated like the angel you are.” He says, stroking your cheek, hoping he’d have some success in taking you out of that dark corner you always seemed to gravitate towards. 

“Whatever happened in high school, those idiots…are just that. Idiots. I am no stranger in being the laughing stock for those football players or cheerleaders. I imagine you can tell I was not a popular guy by any means.” He chuckles. You smile softly at him, at his efforts to help you get out of that slump. 

“I-I know. I gotta leave that behind in the past. I just…tend to second guess myself with everything. Always questioning things..” You sigh, and cross your legs, feeling his hand on your back, softly caressing it as he tilts his head to the side a little, pressing it up against yours. It’s a quiet gesture, him giving you some time to express your next words, if needed. You knew he was right, knowing this is what you moved to Hawkins for. To make a new life, a new beginning, and whatever life threw your way, you’d handle it as a new person. And that’s exactly what life did. 

“Now, let’s enjoy this lovely day, yeah? It’s actually a perfect Sunday.” He stands, and extends his hand out for you to grab, and pulls you up with him. 

“After a quick shower, please.” You beg, wanting nothing more than to wash away last night’s, and this morning's, depravity but mostly just to feel refreshed and clean.

“Go ahead. I gotta check on some things at home. Meet me there, ok?” Eddie kisses you, and grabs his keys from the kitchen counter. “Oh shit, I forgot to take care of this.” He looks at the mess in the kitchen sink, knowing he said he’d handle it in the morning. He had to be better about that.

“I got it. I’ll see you in a bit, Eds.” You smile as you walk to your front door, opening it for him. He turns to kiss you before jogging over to his trailer, blowing you another kiss and then goes in. Truth is, he didn’t want to shower with you, not yet. He’d have to explain those damn scars he was so self-conscious about, and get into everything that has happened in Hawkins over the last few years. What if that made you want to leave? He couldn’t have that, no. He knows eventually he’ll have to tell you, especially when you’re ready to have sex with him. No way is he fucking you with a shirt on and no pants, like some fucking moron. He battled with the thoughts in his head, knowing he was being a bit of a hypocrite since he, quite frankly, told you to open up to him, and spill whatever was in your head, and here he was, not telling you everything he had dealt with in his young life on earth. A soft sigh escapes him as he steps into the shower and turns on the water, rubbing his face and groans frustratingly, at himself mostly. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a girlfriend. Sometime during his first senior year attempt, he thinks. Since then, it’s been pretty lonely. Now that he’s got you pretty close to wanting to be in a relationship with him, he had to get his shit together. Tell you all about his life, the bullshit he endured in ‘86. He definitely had to keep his trailer clean. He’d turn into a bit of a slob after Wayne moved out. Well, he was never tidy, but the state of his trailer left him ashamed, especially since yours was so neat. 

“Fuck..” Eddie mumbles, grabbing a 3rd bag to fill with trash that was on the coffee table and the floor surrounding. “Shoulda just told her I’d meet her back there..” He sighs, annoyed that he was breaking a sweat after his shower, and groans when soda drips all over his hand from a half full can. He’s ready to throw it across the room when your soft knocks against his door causes him to pause. Maybe if he stays completely still, you won’t see him through the blinds but that doesn’t seem to work when you knock again and yell out, “Eds, I can see you!” a soft giggle heard from behind the door. “Comin’.” He stands and walks over to let you in, a shameful look on his face as you take in the condition of his trailer. “I uh…the maid took the week off.” He says, joking to hide the humiliation he feels when you take a step in and cross your arms. “The week, or the whole year off?” You chuckle and grab the trash bag from his hand, smiling. “I’ll help.” You say and ignore his protests that you don’t have to, that this was his mess he had to straighten out. “I like cleaning. So, good luck with convincing me otherwise.” You smirk and kneel by the couch, starting to toss empty beer cans into the bag. 

Eddie pulls a lawn chair next to yours that sits by your small vegetable garden, facing the open area of grass and the start of woods further down. You’d yet to go exploring in there. “So, you sit out here, and just watch the sunset?” He says, handing you the bottle of water that you requested, and takes a seat beside you, extending his legs out as he cracks open the can of beer for himself. “I do. It doesn’t take too long, since the tall trees kinda hide it after a bit, but it looks beautiful. Relaxes me after a day at work.” You say and turn your heads towards him, admiring his side profile. You really liked his hair, a wild mane that fit his wild personality perfectly. Those full lips that kissed you so tenderly, yet feverish in need. The heavenly bulbous tip of his nose that bumped into your clit repeatedly when his tongue was lapping at your pussy. 

“You know darlin’, you can always take a photo. They last longer.” He teases with a grin, watching you quickly look straight ahead.  

“Oh, fuck off.” You softly laugh, and take a sip of water, holding his hand when he reaches out to grab it, needing to have some part of you in his grasp. It was comforting to him, as it was for you. What better way to enjoy the Sunday evening than with your cute neighbor, watching the sunset from the comfort of your backyard. 

A sigh is heard from Eddie. "Alright. Time to tell you about the upside down.."

[eddiesvixen]

Happy Birthday

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺.

𝘊𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳: 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘥𝘯𝘪 18+, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘷 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘣𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷 (𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱), 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘯𝘵: 3.8𝘬

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“How much for that one?” Eddie nods at the tee hanging at the merchandise stand.

The worker looks at the tag. “Forty bucks.”

Shit. Forty bucks for a Slayer tee? To be fair, the concert was fucking amazing. And Eddie couldn’t get enough of the way you were just out there dancing. He wanted to surprise you. After all, your birthday falls just six days away, and he knows how much you waited for this show. So he hands the guy two twenty dollar bills.

“What size?”

Eddie points. “Extra large, she likes to wear them to sleep.”

The guy hands Eddie the shirt in which he quickly holds it behind his back because there’s you were, emerging from the restrooms. He could never get tired of seeing your beautiful face.

“Do not go in those restrooms.” You warn him with a small smile.

“Let me guess, some randoms hooking up?”

“Worse. Smells like the Hawkins High locker rooms.”

He cringes and dramatically gags. “Damn, and you pissed in there?”

You shove him playfully. “Shut up.”

You smile when you see something folded up in his hands. “What’s that?”

He shrugs and pulls you to walk with him back to the van. “Just something small.”

“How small?” You try to grab it but he pulled it out of reach.

“What ever happened to the element of surprise?” He shakes his head, wild curls following woth the movement.

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you the same guy who opened his christmas gifts two days early last year?”

He smiles. “It was a big box! I knew it had to be something ridiculous.”

“And is this something ridiculous?” You raise a brow as he opens the passenger side door for you.

“It’s something you’ll love.” He nods, clutching his heart with a smile so sweet you can’t be angry. “Now will you get in the van? I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” You smile and tease as you get in the van.

“Oh you aren’t?” He smirks.

“Just drive nerd.”

He obeyed, getting into his van and when you look away to put your seatbelt on, he tosses the shirt into the back of the van. He drove you to a restaurant in the city. It’s fun. You can enjoy the scent of the greasy burgers and luckily it’s too late for Eddie to embarrass you by asking the waitresses to sing happy birthday.

When you sip your drink he takes chance to talk to you. “So.”

You grin. “So?”

He bites his burger so his words come out muffled and you snort. “English, Eddie.”

He chuckles and his cheeks tinge pink when you dab away the grease dripping down his chin.

“I um. I said are you excited? For your birthday.”

“I guess so?” You shrug. “Just feels like the older I get I don’t know what to do for them anymore.”

There’s a small pause before you say. “But tonight was the best.”

He smiles. “Yeah it was. You really can dance, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe we saw Slayer though. I mean, that was fucking amazing.”

Your smile warms his heart. “Bet you’re glad I brought this then. Got some of it recorded so we can look back one day.”

He pulls the digital camera from his jeans pocket and you smile. “Almost forgot we recorded. My footage is probably shaky. Couldn’t stop laughing when you started shaking your ass to Postmortem.”

He throws his head back and laughs, you try not to stare at the porcelain skin, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Oh! So you weren’t shaking yours too?”

You smile and flip him off. “I’m entitled to.” Then you fold your arms. “And you looking at my ass, Munson?”

Shit. Way to give yourself away Eddie.

He smirks. “Kinda hard not to when that girl touched it earlier.”

It’s kinda hard to forget. The way you danced, your hips swaying and head banging. And when this other girl saw you, she started dancing with you. You were so caught up, it almost missed you when she grinded back on you. And you were having so much fun, the drink you did have encouraging you to have fun. You danced on her and with permission, she put her hands on your ass as you shook it on her.

You shrug and smile. “She liked what she saw.”

“Didn’t know you liked girls.” He sips his soda.

“Who do you think gave Robin her first kiss?”

He could’ve spit out his drink. Buckley got to kiss you before he did?!

“Shut up.” His eyes widen.

You laugh. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone.”

He shakes his head. “So you’re bisexual?”

“I don’t wanna label myself. But, I guess so?”

He nods.

“What?” You raise a brow.

“Nothing.” He says simply, then a smirk forms across his face. “Just can’t believe you practically twerked on a girl at a Slayer concert.”

You smile and laugh, gently kicking his boot with your own under the table. “Upset she twerked on me and not you?”

He shrugs. “Nah. It was worth the watch.”

“Perv.” You roll your eyes and smile.

The waitress brings the bill. “Will that be all?”

You both shake your heads and before you can pull your cash from your purse he gives her the cash and tip. You raise a brow.

“Thanks.” He grins as she takes the money and walks away. You usually pay the tip when you both go out.

“Really?”

He grins. “Not letting you spend a penny on your birthday.”

You smile. “Sap.”

He smirks. “You like it.”

You do. It’s one of your favorite things about Eddie. The way he can be upset about something but when he gets around you he becomes so sweet. Like at the show when the mosh got loaded, he knows you like to dance there. But when some guys got too aggressive, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back for a drink. He always looks out for you, just like you look out for him.

“Come on. I got something to help you calm down for the night.” He slides out of the booth, holding out his hand to you.

You grin and place your hand in his as you stand. “Rick give you another good stash?”

He smirks. “Something called purple palm tree delight?”

“Sounds intriguing.” You smile, wrapping your srm around him, fingers in the loop of his jeans. “Lead the way.”

“Holy shit.” You grin and take another hit of the purple palm tree delight.

“Yeah, this is definitely a keeper.” He smiles, looking at you. The way your lips look around the joint, the way they form an O shape when blowing out smoke.

You grin. “You’re staring. What’s on your mind?”

He looks over your face. Examing your features. Your nose, your lips, so plush and soft. Your eyes search his face for any emotion.

“I got you a present. Well.. another. The first one is at the trailer. You’ll have to wait to see it next week.”

You smile. “The first one? How many did you get me?” You sit the joint in the ashtray, and the ashtray into the front seats.

He grabs the shirt from where he tucked it under the seat and he hands it to you. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You smile and take the folded up item, unraveling it to see the slayer logo on it. It’s black and it’s so soft, begging you to wear it.

“Eddie, you didn’t have to.” You look at him with a grateful and appreciative gaze.

“I did. It’s worth it.” His eyes search your face, almost a mimic to how you searched his seconds ago. “Do you like it?”

You clutch the tee to your chest and smile. “I love it, Eddie.” You hug him and press your nose to his shoulder, he wraps his arms around you tightly.

“Anything for you.” He rubs your back.

And you know he’s being truthful. Like when he took you to the homecoming dance in freshman year because your douche of a boyfriend dumped you days before it. And when he snuck into your room with medicine and snacks after a late shift at the hideout because you were sick. Eddie always swore to do anything for you. Or when he helped you move into your apartment and you freaked out about being an adult. You didn’t want to be on your own, so Eddie always makes sure you aren’t.

You kiss his shoulder, lips meeting the soft fuzz of his worn band tee. His eyes widen and his back freezes on your back.

He speaks softly. “Did you just kiss me?”

You pull back. Did you overstep? You only intended to share a sweet moment with him, he knows it’s rare at times. You shrug. “Yeah.”

He looks over your face for a moment. His gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

“Do it again.” He murmured it so lowly you almost missed it.

You couldn’t believe he was asking you and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever tell Eddie no. You cup his face, feeling the slightest peach fuzz under your palms as your thumb strokes his cheek gently. Your noses brush almost as gently as your lips do, and you press yours to his.

You kiss him like he’s the only guy in the world, and he kisses you like he needs you to breath. His lips are warm and plus like soft pillows. You grip his shoulder and with your free hand you cup the back of his neck. He moves a tentative hand to your hip and the other rests on your jaw, his calloused thumb stroking the material of your shorts.

When you tug his hair he gasps at the action and you take it as your opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. He’s shocked at first, his best friend just slipped her tongue into his mouth. But from the taste of your lip gloss and the scent of your perfume filling his nose he couldn’t stop you. He didn’t want to stop you.

He laps his tongue at yours and you taste the weed and something that’s simply Eddie. You think you could survive off of this taste if anything else. His hands hold your hips as he lowers you slowly until you’re laid flat against the floor of his van.

He finally breaks the kiss for air. You’re both smiling, lips slightly bruised from how passionately you kissed.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grins.

“You’re one to talk.” You cup his face away from his messy curls as they drape over you.

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t just a ‘thanks for the gift’ kiss was it?”

You smile and pull him down to kiss him again. “No silly. That was a take off your shirt before I grow impatient kiss.”

He smirks and teases you. “Mm, looks like you’re already there, princess.”

You smirk and start to undo your top. “I wont ask again.”

He smirks. “Well shit.”

He undoes his belt and you both remove your clothes, desperate to have a taste of each other. Shirts, jeans, shorts, socks. All littered to the corner of the van and Eddie’s in awe as he looks over your body. Soft skin and the curves of your full breasts as they sit bare. Your ass and thighs are begging for attention from black panties that confine them.

But you’re in awe too. Those black briefs he has on don’t hide much either. And the damp patch on them tells you that he yearns for your body as much as you yearn for him.

You grin. “You wear briefs now?”

He chuckles and his cheeks tinge pink. “Harrington told me they’re more comfortable. So I figured I give them a try.”

You smile. “And are they?”

He smirks and looks down, his begging to be freed from their hold. “Not at the moment.”

You press your toes to his chest and he smiles, his hand wrapping around your ankle as he kisses it He kisses up higher and higher, past your calf and up your thigh.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve waited for this, for you.” He looks into your eyes when he bends lower and kisses your mound through the material of your panties.

You bite your lip. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head to see your face fully.

“As much as I’ve dreamed about you going down on me, I need you to fuck me or i’m gonna lose my mind.”

He laughs and sits up, cupping his bulge through his briefs. “Shit. You can’t just say things like that. Almost blew my load.”

You laugh and sit up, gently tucking your fingers into his waistband. When you look up at him for permission he nods rapidly, dark curls bouncing around. You pulled his briefs down to his knees and his cock hits his tummy.

You laugh and he huffs, wrapping a fist around his base.

“You know, no guy wants to hear his girl laugh when he pulls his dick out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “What? No. I’m just.. surprised. I turn you on this much from just kissing?”

He grins. “If you knew how turned on you got me all the time, you’d probably be grossed out. I mean-“

Eddie was gonna confess about how many times he’s hidden his hard on’s from you when you’d hang out in his trailer in his tees or at the lake in that skimpy garment you call a bikini but he grits his teeth at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his cock.

“Kinda heavy.” You grin and gently brush your thumb against the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Oh fuck.. sweetheart.”

“Im glad you’re turned on.” If you keep talking like that, you just might kill him. “Because I am too.”

You grab his hand and place it between your thighs, his palm pressed your clothed core. He looks at you as you lean your head back, he kisses your neck and you can’t hold back the moan that slips out.

He moans when he feels your grip become more firm around him, gently stroking his cock. What he lacks in girth he makes up for in length. You gasp as you feel his fingers dip into your panties, teasing your folds with your slick before slowly plunging his finger into your tight folds.

“Fuck, so good Eddie.”

He loves how his name sounds falling from your lips and he loves how wet you are for him. What he loves even more is how you’re stroking him. Keeping the same pace he has on you as he adds another finger, his thumb expertly finding your clit.

With your moans and your soft hands jerking him off, he knows he wont last long. He gasps and moans, hips stuttering to meet your strokes and his stomach tenses up. He uses his free hand to stop you and your eyes shoot open.

“Sorry. I just need to be inside you baby.”

You nod and bite your lip to muster the desperate moan he could’ve pulled from you when he toom his hand from your panties. He pulls his briefs off fully so you do the same with your panties, lying down rested back on your elbows. He reached into the front glove compartment and when he sits back up in front of you you’re greeted with the blue squared package in his hand.

“Better safe than sorry.” He shrugs, ripping it open with his teeth.

Before he can slide it on you grab his wrist and he raises his brows.

“I’m on the pill.”

His eyes widen. “All this time?”

“Yeah. Well actually it’s not a pill, it’s a shot. Still, contraceptive so we’re safe.”

He feels a new wave of pleasure wave over him. He’s never gone raw. He looks over your body then your face. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re comfortable.” You rub his hip. “I want us to both enjoy this.”

He smiles and tosses the condom to fling wherever in the van. “Are you kidding me? Fuck trojan.”

You laugh and he joins in soon enough. He kisses you. When the laughter dies down he speaks softly. “Ever gone raw with… anyone else?” He hated how much that question made him feel like a loser but when you shake your head he smiles.

“I haven’t trusted anyone enough to.” You look over his face. “It’s special.”

He grins. “You’re special.”

You tease him yet again. “Sap.”

“Yeah and if you tell anyone i’ll tell them exactly what you just said.” He quips back.

You roll your eyes. “Kiss me before I change-“

He wouldn’t dare let you finish that sentence. He kisses you passionately, both hands cupping your face. You sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his curls tickle your neck and chest.

It’s intimate and steamy and so good. The way his hand drifted down your body and he took a break to kiss your chest, gently licking then sucking then kissing each nipple in that order.

He positions himself and you reach down to help him. You both moan in tandem as he slides into your wet heat. There’s a sting at the stretch but you’re so wet and so turned on that it doesn’t hurt much, in fact it adds to your pleasure and his. The way you’re gripping him like a vice.

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so tight.” His eyes are shut, trying not to blow his load like he did his first time in sophomore year.

“So big Eddie.” You feel pathetic. That’s about all the words you can get out before he slowly rolls his hips, moans falling from both of your lips and you lace your fingers in his hair as he buries his head in your neck, leaving kisses there.

The moans and pretty whimpers that fall from his lips make you clench around him. You’d be embarrassed about the squelch that comes from between your legs if he didn’t seem to be in love with it.

“Eddie.” You moan and he’s quick to respond.

Through gritted teeth he pants. “Yeah baby?”

“Faster.”

When he hears your tone he can’t think anymore. He’s not sure if he’s been thinking at all. Not since you removed your shirt. He kisses your neck one more time before he sits up and grips your hips.

“If it’s too much stop me. Don’t wanna be too rough.”

You grin. “I like rough.”

He smirks. “Why am I not surprised?”

You’d talk back at him but he’s got your hips gripped tightly as he lifts them, your ass rests on his thighs as he fucks into you. The angle allows him to hit spots you didn’t know someone could hit. Realization only hits you now that no one’s ever fucked you the way you deserved.

Behind moans and bables of pleasure, you can feel his hands exploring your body. You roll your hisp with his and he tosses his head back.

“Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me come too quick.”

You pull him down and speak softly into his ear. “Let me ride you.”

He feels like whatever he did in his past life must’ve been heroic as fuck, because you’re making him harder with every passing second.

He hugs you and helps roll you both over, making sure his cock stays nestled where it belongs. You grip his shoulders and he grips your hips so tightly you know it gonna have dents from his rings but you don’t care.

You’d share a passionate kiss, tongues dancing together in a dance of pleasure. Moaning into each other’s mouths as you roll your hips over his lap. He’s helps you move, hands gripping your hips even tighter as he fucks up into you.

You moan and kiss his neck, your tits moving against his chest and he thinks this view is actually better tham whatever footage he got on that camera earlier. His girl, in his van, moaning his name.

“Fuck. Eddie, i’m so close.” You cup the back of his neck.

He knows. He’s known for the past minute. The way your pussy grips around him. claiming him all for herself. He nods and keeps his pace. Grunts and moans growing more desperate.

“Fucking milking me, sweetheart.” He gasps as he feels that familiar twitch.

A symphony of moans and whimpers fill the van as he empties himself inside you, helping you ride him as your body jerks and he feels the warmth of your release wash over his cock, dripping beneath your bodies.

You pant and lay your head onto his shoulder. He sees your body’s a bit tired and to that much he can agree. So he lays you both down, another moan coming from you both as he pulls out.

You both lie there, the smallest breeze of wind coming through the slightly cracked window. He looks over at you and smiles as he sees you pulling on the Slayer shirt.

“Told the guy you liked them bigger.”

You smirk. “My guys or my shirts?”

He laughs and sits up on his elbow as you lay back down next to him. “How’s that for a birthday present?”

You smile. “Good dinner, good show and a good orgasm? You really know how to treat a woman.”

He leans in, hand resting on your hip under the shirt. “There’s more where that came from.”

You smile and kiss him, fingers lingering on his hip as well but you feel that twitch again. You snort as you look down then back up at his face.

“You’re such a horndog.”

“Like you don’t want another taste.” He reaches down and grips himself.

“Actually I do.” You teasingly lick your lips and he swears you’re trying to kill him.

He shakes his head. “Don’t think so.”

“What?” You squint at him.

He pulls his briefs back on to simmer the strain of his cock when he lays between your legs. “You’ll get a taste of me. But you stopped me already from tasting you, and with this shirt on? Baby, i’m starving for it.”

He parts your legs and kisses up your thighs. You smile and grab his jeans from the corner above your head. You grab his little cam recorder and he smirks. “Really?”

You mimic his words from the diner. “So we can look back one day.”

He smiles. “I fucking love you.”

And those are the last words spoken for a while.

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: thank you for 200 followers 🩶

𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 @strangergraphics

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust @veravee-blog @losingmygrasponreality @ironmusictrash @littlemissholy @bastardstevie

[reverieblondie]

Bad Dream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, Mysterious passes, Breaking and entering, Panic attack, Breaking washers, Bucky touches your underwear (whoops...)

Summary: You and Bucky are not only neighbors but friends for months now. You two are close... but are still finding out new things about each other...

Word Count: 2,613

A/N: This was inspired by an amazing request got from an anon. I loved the idea so much that I can see this being turned into a full series if enough people like it! Just let me know! I look forward to feedback like always! and request are always open!

"So... What am I eating?"  

Bucky says almost suspiciously as he looks at the macaroni noodle on his fork.

"I can not believe you are so picky," you say, rolling your eyes before taking a delightful bite of the casserole dish you made. Once swallowed, you point your fork accusingly toward Bucky. "It's called tuna mac. It's cheap to make but delicious. Now you can either eat it, or I will stop being such a friendly neighbor and stop sharing my dinners with you."

Bucky chuckles before giving you his signature smirk, "If that's the case, don't come knocking on my door when something of yours breaks again." 

You huff, he doesn't play fair. 

He watches as you pout and sigh before he takes the macaroni and tuna mix into his mouth. When he eats it, his eyes bulge slightly. "That's actually really good?"

"See, you just need to trust me, neighbor. It's something my mom used to make. Boil noodles, mix up the sauce, and top with cheese. It tastes better than it sounds." 

Bucky smiles as you ramble on. When you look over at him, he looks back to his plate, mixing it around as he makes a face before eating more. "That's true. This is way better than that chicken we had last Thursday."  

"Hey! We agreed to forget that monstrosity!"

Of course, Bucky laughs at your dramatics, and you can't help but echo it back. Thursday night dinners have become your favorite tradition since moving in; no matter how shitty your week could have been, this always lifts up your spirits, even just a little bit. Most people in your building seem to avoid Bucky; they won't join him in the elevator or even greet him in the mailboxes. They judge his past... but who are you to judge? Though getting to know him didn't happen instantly, it happened because of an accident you might have caused…

You have been fighting with these washers and dryers since you moved in. And now here you are fighting again with the washer. The stupid thing won't spin, and it's starting to flood with water. You paused the cycle and knew that you should just ask the maintenance guy for help, but that has the risk of being blamed for it being broken.

Distracted, you don't notice someone walking in to use the other machines. Honestly, it's surprising someone else is up this late just to do their laundry. So much for not running into anyone while you're dressed in your lazy day pajamas—no bra just to add to the pending embarrassment… Trying your best to keep your head down and fix the machine as silently as possible, you didn't realize that your rattling around has definitely drawn attention. 

Until a shadow is cast over you. Turning slightly, you look up at the imposing figure and see your next-door neighbor. James Barnes... Ex Winter soldier and a current Avenger... 

His head tilts as he stares down at you, "Problem?" 

This is the first time you have really seen him up close… he's much taller than you thought, and his eyes are the clearest shade of blue… While you're silently coking, Bucky shifts on his feet, his scowl deepening as he continues to stare. Mentally, you chastise yourself for being rude and pull your hand from the filled drum to offer him a handshake, stumbling out your name in the process. This was a mistake, however, because you ended up splashing the super soldier with washer water… -Shit… 

"I'm sorry, and yeah, I'm just trying to get this washer to work… they never want to act right… old machines acting wonky, what's new?" You huff a laugh, but Bucky keeps looking at you unamused… ah yes… he's an old machine, you idiot… 

You quickly take another step closer in panic mode, "Oh! But not all old machines! My grandma had a vacuum for like 20 years, and it never crapped out on her!" -what are you even saying? 

Buck just further scoles you, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Honestly, it's a bit intimidating—his intense stare locked onto you. Then there's the fact that his glare doesn't roam—it's just set on your eyes. Plus, you're just rambling on, and he's just watching you like you have lost your mind! You can't afford to move again… 

"Why don't you just call for maintenance?" he says in a confused tone, his brows knitting together.  

You give him a gentle smile, "I don't want to be blamed for breaking it…" 

He doesn't seem too impressed with your excuse as he rolls his eyes, but to your surprise, instead of walking away, leaving you to struggle, he places his laundry down and begins to investigate the machine. 

You step closer to him, "So you're going to help me?" you chirp.

"I'm going to try, but if it breaks further, that's on you…" -Okay can't really blame him for that..

"Fair enough, neighbor." he only seems to hum at that before continuing his investigation. 

He does his diligence checking everything out; while he does that, you're doing your own checking out. It's not like you're trying to be a perv.... but curiosity always gets the cat in the end, so you allow yourself to check him out a little. His back faces you, and it's incredible how sturdy it appears; you can even see how the muscles ripple with every move despite it being hidden underneath his t-shirt. Then his narrow waist that draws your attention down the length of him, and his arms bulging with every move as it roots around on the inside of the drum. The dark metal arm is so eye-catching you can't help but stare even though you know you shouldn't... If you were caught, you would be modified by how rude it would be. But you can't help yourself from admiring how pretty it truly is… and the craftsmanship is impeccable… 

"I think something is just caught if I can unwrap it…" With another pull and a slight groan, he rips out what was caught. Surprisingly, it's Small... red and- 

Bucky holds up the dripping wet material, and now that he has it unscrambled, you are mortified... Of course, out of everything to get tangled up and caught, it had to be your thong. Turning it about, Bucky looks at the material confused, unsure, until he meets your mortified eyes and flushed face. It must suddenly click for the man that he's holding a stranger's underwear because, with the inhuman speed, he's met with realization and he's practically throwing your underwear at you like it would bite him. 

The flush of his neck and the way he suddenly does not meet your eyes tells you he's thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am…" Ma'am? Wow, now he's talking to you properly; he really is embarrassed...

It's quiet for a moment as Bucky awkwardly shifts on his feet. Then you can't help yourself any longer, and you laugh. You laugh so hard you all but fall over yourself, and to your shock, Bucky breaks from his mortification and joins in on your laughter.

The moment lasted for a while until you were both on the verge of tears. As you wipe away your tears, you catch him smiling, and it's like looking at a completely different guy. If people saw this, they wouldn't be avoiding him, that's for sure. 

With the washer fixed, you could finish your laundry cycle as Bucky moved to start his. As you're turning to thank your helpful neighbor, he is gone? Scanning the room, you see him leaving, shit! 

"James!" You shout without thinking. He pauses before turning back with a small smirk. 

"Don't tell me you broke something else." 

He's… teasing you? A grin spreads to your face, "I wanted to thank you for helping me out." 

He shrugged, "It's no problem. But call me Bucky; when you say James, it makes me feel old." With that, he walked off. 

Days later, you were still troubled by the feeling you didn't get to properly thank your neighbor for saving your panties from doom. So you did the only thing you could think of. Making him food. Make sure debts and gratitude are always paid... it's something you picked up from both your parents, but where your dad made sure to do it with favors and money, your mom would always pay by making desserts and meals. So, in your situation, you decided on a platter of brownies.

The look on his face when you knocked on his door was priceless. Of course, he accepted, and thus, the cycle between you two started. You would have a favor, Bucky would help, and then you would make him a meal or dessert. Over time, Bucky's grumpiness was replaced with friendliness, and your friendship got stronger. Even though you had fewer favors, you two continued the tradition of eating a home-cooked meal together once a week until suddenly, it was odd if you were not seeing him.

Like now...

It's been three weeks since you last saw him. It's honestly so lonely in the building without him around. Sure, he's not talkative all the time, and there are still things you know you two have not shared, but it's undeniable this closeness you feel to him.

You just hope you get to see him soon, or you will be forced to break something and force him to come back…

It's another quiet night. It should be a night that you rest easy, drifting far off into dreamland. But you just can't seem to fall asleep. Perhaps it's the fault of a certain super soldier's absence. As you lay pondering whether you should just force yourself to rest or get up and do something until you're tired…

Then, loud bangs from the neighboring wall interrupted the stillness. On instinct, you freeze and try to listen to where the crashing is coming from. 

Bucky's place... but that's odd; he's not home. Or did you just miss him? Another crash makes you second guess that it could be a break in… 

But who would be dumb enough to break into a super soldier's apartment?

Apparently, you are...

It is technically breaking and entering, but is it bad if you do it for a good reason? What if someone is wreaking his place? What if he's in danger? What will you do if you actually run into someone? You will deal with that once you encounter it…

You ignore that for now as you concentrate on picking the lock... You hated it then, but you're now thankful for the skill at times like this. It clicks with a few more twists, and you're now sneaking through the threshold.

It's the same place you have been in multiple times, but tonight, you see the crumble of blankets on the living room floor, the flipped furniture, the mess of wreckage. Then you see the more heart-aching sight in the room's darkness. 

Bucky usually stands tall and has that sly smirk for you with some greeting. Now, he is crouched so small, disheveled, and trembling. Those ocean-blue eyes clenched tightly...

A step towards him immediately has him on the defense, ready to pounce.

But he pauses at the sight of you, confused, rightly so. But you're more distracted by how the outside lights reflect on the streams down his cheeks.

You're about to say something, but his hoarse voice cuts you off before you can, "Get out!".

You should really listen, but as he sinks back to the floor, your feet feel like lead. With a swallow and a steadying breath, you step closer. He should understand by now that you're not one for listening. 

Closer now, you can take in his sweat-drenched body and matted hair and how he tries to stop shaking... Thousands of questions flock to you; you just swallow them down. Slowly, you sit close enough to be noticed but not enough to touch him…

Settled beside him, you hold your hand towards him on the floor, making a silent offer. "I'll stay for as long as it takes..." 

It could take minutes or hours. There is also the chance of him lashing out, but you will just be silent and patient and let him feel your presence and hear your calm breaths.

You're there for a couple of minutes until a clammy warmth touches your hand. Looking down, you can tell the shaking has stopped a little. You spread your fingers and let him lace them with his own. 

"I... don't know what to say..." he mumbles, but you shake your head before meeting his eyes.

"You don't have to explain... We all have scars... Bad dreams. "

"Every night I have bad dreams... Sometimes, I just randomly shake awake."

"Other times, you just lay there waiting for the sun to rise."

The look he gives you tells you he's shared the experience. You shrug and look out the window, "Like I said... bad dreams."

As you two sit there, his shaking slowly stills, but your hand's grip only tightens. 

"I'm sorry..." It was such a silent whisper that you almost didn't hear it. Bucky, tired, and a wreck, brought back memories you thought were packed away. 

"Don't be sorry. Let's just work on getting you cleaned up. Are you good enough to rinse off?"

Bucky nods before standing up... He walks towards his bathroom but pauses just short... He has his own set of questions he wants to ask... One of them is clear to you... are you going to stay... 

"I'll clean for a bit and will brew some tea for, when you get out. Okay?" 

He gives a short nod before disappearing. You start placing what you can remember being placed before. It takes you a minute to get everything back in its place. Sure, this place was a mess, but you have had to fix the fallout of worse. Once done, you move on to the kitchen to brew the tea. As the water heats, you just listen to the muffled sound of the shower. Does this happen often? And if so, how have you never noticed before?

Bucky takes longer to wash off than you expected, but ultimately, it's a good thing he took the time for himself. When he finally comes out of the bathroom, he's only in pajama bottoms, a towel resting on his shoulder, and fixing his metal arm back into place. His hair is still dripping wet when he finally plops down on the couch. For a long moment, he's still thinking of what to say, but you just slide the peppermint tea over to him.

Bucky gives a small thank you before he lifts the cup, letting the smell waft to his nose and the cup warm his hand. When he finally takes a sip, you feel like you can breathe again. While he works on his tea, you notice the drops falling from his hair and landing on his skin, causing him to shiver. He didn't even bother to dry his hair, huh? Carefully, you take the towel from his shoulder and softly start to dry his wet hair away. Bucky looks at you curiously as you focus on the task before you. 

"Why are you so good at this?" 

"Like I said, everyone gets bad dreams. Some worse than others." 

He hums before slightly chuckling, "Is that also why you know how to break into apartments?"

The playful tone in his voice makes your heart squeeze, and you can't help but grin, "You're not the only one with secrets, soldier boy." 

[ddejavvu]

Can you do one for Eddie Munson where he has a super sleepy girlfriend? She falls asleep so easily, she could be in one of the loudest places ever and still fall asleep. It's so cute because she always shows up to watch him play with the hellfire.

Eddie had initially been psyched to play a venue a little bigger and realer than the four square feet of molding floorboards that he's used to at The Hideout. Corroded Coffin doesn't often get the chance to play for a crowd larger than twelve, but as his eyes scan the hundred people that have shown up in hopes of finding their new favorite band, he doesn't see you.

Okay, he's not worried, because he's got one of his buddies looking out for you. He's not with the band but he comes along to sell shitty merchandise in hopes of making them a quick buck to pay for the gas they used to get here. So he's sure you're fine, and that his friend would have alerted him if something had happened to you.

But it is concerning that he's not seeing you in the crowd. You'd crawled out of your sickbed once to come and see his performance, so he knows you're not missing by choice. Still, he presses on with the show, and gives the crowd a night he hopes they'll remember and tell their friends about.

He's accused of ditching the cleanup effort when he darts off of the stage after their last song has finished, but he doesn't care. He elbows past people too drunk to realize he's the guy that was just playing the guitar up on stage, and scans the dissipating crowd for your out-of-place form.

He finds a man throwing up, a woman knocking back shot after shot like it's water, a woman swapping her heels with her boyfriend's sneakers for better comfort, but not you. It's not until he backs into the corner of the bar to get a better view of the entire thing that he collides with someone he didn't realize was behind him, whirling around to apologize before he notices it's you.

"I'm sorry-!" He blurts, hands out to steady whoever he'd just bodyslammed, but your bewildered face blinks back at him, shoulders rolling out from where you'd been slumped on a tabletop in the corner of the bar. Your eyes are bleary though they soften at the sight of him, and you're blinking slowly.

"Were you... asleep?" He asks, curls frizzy and in his face beneath his bandana.

"Yeah. You goin' on?" You ask, voice groggy as you rub your eyes, "I'll get a spot in the front."

"Going on- we finished." Eddie sounds helpless, and your stomach drops as you register it for disappointment.

"What? No!" You panic, "I- I couldn't have slept through it! You're kidding. I'm so sorry!"

"I'm not kidding." Eddie's tone is still soft, faded from his usual vigor, but his lips curl in brief amusement, "You did sleep through it. It's okay, babe. But- you slept through it."

"I didn't mean to." You whine, still petrified that you've offended him by accidentally dozing during his show.

"I'm impressed." Eddie admits, "Wayne says our music would scare a bear away. And you slept through it."

"You snore like a bear." You grumble now that Eddie's openly laughing at you, slightly embarrassed at how tired you must have been to stay asleep through his performance, "I have to be a heavy sleeper or I'd never be able to share a bed with you."

"Okay, snippy." Eddie takes the teasing good-naturedly, helping you out of your chair and heading for the door, "I'll stop making fun of you. Just wait in the van while we're cleaning up, okay?"

"Okay." You're looking forward to the warm gust of the heater in Eddie's van, and the comfy seat he's decked out with a fleece blanket for you, "How long is it gonna take?"

"Ten minutes." He shrugs, and by the grin on his face, you should have known he'd never acquiesce to peace that easily, "What, you're afraid you'll fall asleep and miss karaoke on the ride home?"

[wintfleur]

❝ YOUR BODY KEEPS PULLING ME IN, GIRL ! ❞

𝓲. 𝑜𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 ⨟ 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌

` . . ── 𝓹airing luke hughes x 𝒇 ! reader

𝓻oro's msgs : ‘𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝗒’ 𝖡𝖱𝖮 𝖨𝖬 ����𝖱𝖸𝖨𝖭𝖦 🤲🏻 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 🫦 ｡｡ 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗄

ᆼᆽᆼ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 & 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ！

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Luke gets really sleepy and cuddly after the act, but he will always make sure you're okay and have everything you need. He’ll get you a warm, damp cloth to clean you up if you don't want to take a shower/bath yet. Make sure you get some water to stay hydrated or a snack, and then join you back in bed. Luke craves physical touch like he craves air, so he's going to be all over you, massaging and caressing, doing anything he can do to feel you. He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings and pressing soft kisses against your skin.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Luke’s favorite part of himself is his hands, for multiple reasons of course.  They fit perfectly with yours, they hold and caress your body, they are the first thing you grab, they lift or pull you closer when you're arched back, plus they are essential for his job. 

On you, luke finds it hard to pick just one. He’s captivated by everything that involves you, but he's just naturally pulled to your lips — literally. Those sweet, soft, and inviting lips that speak to him so lovingly, that kiss him so passionately, that look so irresistible wrapped around his fingers and cock. Your lips have him hooked every time you use them, pulling him even closer with every word you say or how you use them on his body. A close runner up is your ass…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Luke doesn't try to be messy; it just sometimes happens to get messy. Luke obviously loves to cum inside of you, watching as his seed drips out of you, using his fingers to push it back in. But if he’s not cumming inside of you, he’s cumming on your thighs or your tits, loving to see you covered with his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Luke loves it when you take control. There's just something so hot about seeing you take charge and guide him like he would you. The way you'd push his head between your legs, give him commands, push him on his back to ride him, hold his hips to control the pace, it all just drives him insane.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a tad bit of experience, but he was still pretty new to everything, and he honestly preferred that because going through new experiences and learning not just what he likes but what you like with you was definitely beneficial for your guys' relationship. He’s a quick learner and naturally good at everything, so it definitely makes it seem like he's more experienced than he is. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

luke can't pick between missionary and cowgirl. He loves how intimate and intense missionary can be, staring into your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours, smothering you slightly with his weight, plus the fact that he can kiss you anytime he wants. Having you on top is an enchanting experience, whether he's lying down or sitting up. He loves to watch you, the way your expression changes when you move your hips differently, the way your hands are clinging to his chest or shoulders, his hands squeezing your ass or hips, either of you controlling the pace. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on how he's feeling and the situation. He’s an emotional person so he usually likes to keep things more serious in intimate moments. He likes to tease you, but it's all out of adoration. but really, he just wants you to be comfortable, so if things get a little silly and lighthearted, then he's fine with it.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It’s all about intimacy with Luke; he's secretly a hopeless romantic at heart. Sometimes he just wants to make love instead of fucking. He wants to really cherish the moment, worship your body, whisper sweet things, and just feel your skin against his. The pleasure always feels more intense. He loves holding your hands, keeping eye contact. Will always praise you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Luke really only jerks off when he's away from you and desperate, usually when he's gone for away games, and even then, it’s almost always on FaceTime with you. If that's not possible, he just has to use his imagination and think of you. You keep him very satisfied, so he doesn't find the need to jerk off much.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

a bit of a breeding kink - he's young, and he's not ready in any way to be a father, but the idea of getting you pregnant actually drives him crazy. Watching his seed drip out of you, using his fingers to stuff it back in, teasing you about not wasting a drop. 

marking kink - he loves marking your body with his kisses and bites; he thinks you look beautiful with them, and it's just a reminder that you're his. Sometimes, he’ll see a hickey peeking out from your to,p and he’ll almost instantly get hard. He gets a little shy wherever you mark his body, knowing that he is going to get teased by his teammates if they see anything. 

size kink - he loves how different you are from each other physically. You have caught him many times comparing the size of his hands with yours; he loves spreading his large hand on your thighs, seeing how small you look trapped under him, your smaller hands gripping his arms.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It's easily the bedroom; you can do anything in there, and it's where the two of you are the most comfortable, physically and emotionally. A close second is the couch. From you riding him in the middle of a forgotten movie to fucking you lazily in missionary and pepering soft kisses alongside your face

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything you do, really. But seeing you all domestic, in his oversized clothes, long eye contact, are a few things that really get him going. But again, anything you do turns him on. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The idea of someone seeing or watching them is a big turn-off for him, so he stays clear of anything that’s public. He likes the private little world the two of you have, and he likes to keep it that way. He’s yours, and you are his; no one else needs to see, hear, or know your private life unless the two of you want them to. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s very talented with his tongue; he has a habit of being sloppy, making a mess as he looks up at you with his desperate eyes. He’s most definitely a munch, could spend hours between your thighs, and god, you would let him with how talented he is. He LOVES it when you sit on his face; he was the one to ask you to do it for the first time, and ever since then, it's a thing he literally craves. He loves it when you tug at his hair or have your nails digging into his shoulders/arms. 

he will never say no to receiving, he is definitely the loudest he can be when he's getting sucked off. He’s a shy head pusher…he wants to, but he gets nervous that he's going to hurt you, so most of the time, you are grabbing his hand and moving it to your head.  and he kinda just loses control; whimpering, abs clenched, head tossed back, thighs trembling. When you stick your tongue out to show him that you swallowed everything, he's hard again. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the mood. He can be slow, deep, and sensual, just savoring the moment. he loves just thrusting into you slowly so you can feel every inch of him, his hands caressing your body. He can be fast and rougher, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathless moans urging him to keep pounding into you. He's always passionate. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not against them; he just prefers to take his time with you. Sometimes, neither of you can wait, and it just happens. It's usually before he has to leave for practices, etc, when he needs to let off some steam. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Luke loves experimenting with you, figuring out what you guys like best. He's open to taking risks and trying new things, as long as both of you are comfortable with it. He’s an avid thigh grabber, sneaking his hand up your dress/skirt under the table. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You doubt he has a limit, he's a professional athlete; he has great stamina. He can go for multiple rounds, sometimes even more if he's worked up. He can last pretty long, having you cum a few times before he does. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

not really interested in them for himself, he has you and his hand. If you have them, he'll definitely be curious about them, wanting to watch you use them or use them on you himself. He has bought a pair of fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold that the two of you often use. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Both of you enjoy teasing each other. He knows your body perfectly, and he knows exactly what to do to get you to your peak and just what to do to have you teetering over that edge. He likes to tease you because you sound so pretty when you beg; you get so desperate and needy. He can never keep it up for long, though; he always falls for your pleases.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy about letting you hear how good he feels, at least not anymore. Lots of heavy breathing, groans/grunts, and breathless moans. He gets more whimpery the closer he gets. Lots of your pet names and praises for you flowing from his lips. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

luke loves just fucking into you as deep as he can and just stoping. Smirking at the loud moans leaving your lips and the way your thighs and legs tremble as your body tries to take in how deep he is, you get cock drunk so fast, just becoming a moaning and babbling mess as you weakly cling to him. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's fairly high. Luke can be really horny at times, just really needy, touchy, and all that's on his mind is fucking you. But he's very self-aware that maybe your sex high isn't as high as his, so he can control himself if needed. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes aftercare seriously, so he can never fall asleep without knowing that you have everything you need and are ready to sleep as well. He just wants to take care of you, make sure you're comfortable, and hold you close as you fall asleep. 

𝓇oro’s note. 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗈𝗐 🤓☝️��� 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗆𝗐𝖺𝗁 𝗑

<3 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖺 @winterbarnesblog

m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @cixrosie @lovings4turn @lesrflms @toasttt11 @winterbarnesblog

©️️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[lionneee]

Cherry Lips

Masterlist

Taglist

English is not my first language, please be kind

BestFriend!Mordern!Aemond x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

•Warnings: smut, taking of sexual themes, loss of virginity, piv, fingering, kissing.•

“You’re kidding!” She laughed as she looked at her best friend.

It was night, and they were sitting on the sand, looking at the ocean with a bowl of cherries between them.

“I’m not kidding! I bring one every time I get out, you never know!” Aemond chuckled as he threw another cherry in his mouth.

“How exactly do you expect to love your virginity that you think about putting a fresh condom in your pocket every time you get out?” She laughed as she watched him raise his shoulders with an amused smirk and throw another cherry in his mouth.

“You’ll choke on it if you keep throwing them in your mouth like that.” She scoffed but was still smiling.

“Sorry, mom.” He smirked as she jokingly pushed her shoulder.

“Seriously though, I can’t wait to have a boyfriend. I want to have sex so much.” She whined as she grabbed a cherry and put it in her mouth. Aemond hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, if I don’t have sex in a while, I’ll suck at it forever. Girls want guys who know what they’re doing. It’s easier for you.” He looked at her with an amused smile, even if he was actually speaking his mind.

“I don’t think it’s about what guys can do.” She said as she leaned back on her hands. “It’s about feeling safe, I guess.” She looked at her feet as she dug under the sand with them.

“It’s frustrating! Every guy I’ve been with wanted to have sex so soon, and… I never felt like it. How am I supposed to have sex with my hypothetical boyfriend if I’m always nervous around them?” She sighed.

“I know.” He laid back, looking at the dark sky and the visible stars. “Maybe we still haven’t found the right person yet.” He hummed. She groaned and let herself fall back to lay beside him.

“It’s shitty.” She commented. Aemond smiled and nodded in agreement. “I just want someone that… I know I’ll be comfortable with, even after the act. That if I mess up because I don’t know anything it will not cringe away but make me feel okay, not embarrassed.”

“I’m sick and tired of being a virgin.” Aemond broke the serious moment with a groan. They both chuckled.

She turned her head to look at him, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Yeah? You gonna put that condom in your pocket to good use anytime soon?”

Aemond smirked, tilting his head toward her. “You never know. Maybe the opportunity will present itself when I least expect it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. “Well, I hope whoever it is makes you feel comfortable too.”

Aemond turned onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he studied her face. “What if it’s someone you already feel comfortable with?”

She frowned slightly, not immediately understanding what he meant. “Like a friend?”

“Yeah." He said, his voice casual, but there was something beneath it, something hesitant, something testing. “Someone you already trust. No awkwardness, no pressure. Just… figuring it out together.”

She blinked, processing his words. The thought had never crossed her mind before, not really. But as she looked at Aemond, his familiar face, the way he could make her laugh even in frustrating moments, it didn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“You mean like… us?" She asked cautiously.

Aemond shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I mean, we both want to get it over with, right?” He hesitated, watching her reaction. “And we both want to feel safe.”

She bit her lip, looking up at the sky as her heart beat just a little faster. “That’s… not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

He let out a chuckle, but it was softer this time, almost nervous. “No pressure. Just a thought.”

She turned her head to look at him again, searching his face. “Would it ruin things between us?”

Aemond’s smirk faded, and his expression grew serious. “I don’t think so. You’re my best friend. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

She swallowed, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words as he laid back on the sand.. “Same. And we'll stay friends after we…”

“Of course.” He agreed, looking up at the sky.

For a moment, they just lay there, staring at the stars, the sound of the waves filling the silence. Then she exhaled, shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Well, at least we know one thing for sure." She said, reaching for another cherry.

Aemond arched his brow, turning to look at her. “What’s that?”

She popped the cherry into her mouth and grinned. “You’ll definitely have a condom ready.”

He groaned, rolling onto his back as she laughed beside him.

Once their laughs dissipated, they were left in a strange silence. Despite her agreeing to Aemond’s proposal, none of them made a move.

She chewed on her lip, staring up at the stars, her mind whirling. The idea had seemed so simple when they were joking about it. But now that it was hanging between them like an unanswered question, she wasn’t sure what to do next.

Aemond exhaled sharply, breaking the silence. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

She turned her head to look at him, and when she saw the faint nervousness in his expression, she felt a little relieved. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling this way. “A little." She admitted with a soft laugh.

He hummed, folding his arms behind his head. “I mean, we don’t have to do anything. It was just a thought.”

She hesitated, considering his words. “But… Do you want to?”

His jaw tensed for a second, as if he was debating something internally. Then he turned his head to meet her gaze. “Yeah." He said honestly. “But only if you do too.”

There was something about the way he said it, no teasing, no smirking, just simple sincerity, that made her heart flutter.

She swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of how close they were. The warm night air wrapped around them, the ocean waves whispering in the background. It was just them, alone on the sand, like always. But somehow, it felt different now.

“I don’t want it to be weird after." She murmured.

“It won’t be, I guess." He assured her. “Not unless we make it weird.”

She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “That sounds like something someone would say right before it gets weird.”

Aemond chuckled. “I mean it." He said softly. “We’ll still be us.”

She studied him for a long moment, then she turned back to look at the stars. 

“Okay.” She said suddenly.

His eyes flickered to her lips for a brief second before meeting her gaze again. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Again, no one moved, and they fell right back into their previous silence.

She couldn’t stop thinking, whether she should make a move, or say something, or kiss him.

But her body refused to move.

“Should we start with a kiss?” He asked carefully, stealing a glance at her.

She swallowed, nodding slowly. That seemed… reasonable. A low-risk way to ease into whatever this was.

“Yeah." She agreed as she laid on her side to face him.

He turned towards her, his gaze flickered to her lips before meeting her eyes again. He didn’t move right away, giving her the chance to change her mind. But when she didn’t, he leaned in, slow, deliberate.

The moment his lips brushed against hers, she felt her breath catch. It was soft, barely there, but enough to make her stomach flip.

Aemond pulled back an inch, searching her face. “Still okay?”

She blinked, licking her lips as if trying to process the feeling. “Yeah.”

His lips quirked in the faintest of smiles before he leaned in again, this time pressing a little firmer, letting it last just a second longer.

Her eyes fluttered shut as warmth spread through her chest. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… nice.

When they pulled apart, she exhaled, opening her eyes to meet his, licking her lips.

His lips tasted like cherry.

“Still not weird?" He asked, hesitation in his gaze.

She shook her head. “Not weird.”

Aemond nodded. “Good.”

For a moment, they just lay there, staring at each other, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. 

Aemond leaned over again, this time when he kissed her, his tongue pushed gently, hesitantly against her lips, as if asking her to part them.

The sensation was strange, having his tongue in her mouth, or pushing hers in his, teeth clashing against teeth, the way he tasted, the exchange of saliva, was something she had never thought it would feel like.

But she liked it.

She put her hand on his cheek as she slowly raised herself on her elbow to deepen the kiss, their noses pressed against each other’s cheeks. Aemond let out a moan, a sound she never heard from him before, but that made her stomach clench in a strange way, and her thighs close tightly.

Aemond’s hand moved to her hip, slowly moving on her back as she pressed her against him. His other hand slipped in her hair, pulling her face closer from the back of her head, his tongue moving restless in her mouth.

Aemond’s fingers tightened slightly against her hip, his body pressing subtly into hers. The heat between them was building, slow but undeniable. She could feel his breath against her skin, the weight of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers like he was savoring the moment.

Her heart pounded as she let herself lean into him more, her own hands hesitantly exploring, fingertips ghosting over his jaw, then trailing down to the fabric of his shirt. He was warm, solid. Familiar and yet suddenly something else entirely.

Aemond pulled back just enough to look at her, his forehead nearly touching hers. His breathing was heavier now, his pupils slightly blown. “Still okay?" He murmured, voice low.

She nodded, her own breath shaky. “Yeah.”

He exhaled sharply, like he had been holding something back. “We can stop whenever, you know that, right?”

She swallowed, nodding again. She did know that. And yet, she didn’t want to stop.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she pulled him back down to her. This time, the kiss was different, deeper, more certain.

“You taste like cherry-“ He moaned in her mouth.

“You too…” She answered, slipping her hands in her hair, pulling him closer.

Aemond responded instantly, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, resting lightly against her bare skin. The contrast of the cool night air and his warm touch sent a shiver up her spine.

His lips moved to her jaw, then down to her neck. She gasped when he lingered there, his tongue tracing lightly against her skin.

Her back arched on its own, her legs spreaded, and Aemond wasted no time.

“Can I touch you?” He asked as he kept kissing the skin of her neck. She bit her lip at his question, nodding almost immediately.

Aemond groaned and slipped his hand under her pants and panties, searching desperately for her clit.

“Tell me where –” He looked up at her, his eye shadowed by a veil of pure desire.

“A bit lower- Ah!” She moaned as he found it, his fingers flicking it roughly. Aemond immediately looked back up at her from his hand.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned, stopping his hand for a moment.

“I’m fine…” She panted. “That felt good. P-press there-” She gasped as he applied the right amount of pressure. “Nor rub, not too fast.” 

Aemond nodded, looking back down at his hand as he did as she instructed, rubbing his fingers on her pearl. After he took the pace, he looked up at her, finding her with her head thrown back, silent cries escaping her lips, her back arched and her brows furrowed in pleasure.

He never expected that a sight like that could turn him on that much.

His cock was straining against his pants, begging for attention, so he slowly rubbed it against her tight, to alleviate a bit of lust.

“Can I slip them inside?” He didn’t realize it until he spoke, but he was breathing harder. He watched her closely, and when she nodded, he trailed two of his fingers lower, until he met her entrance. “Are two okay?” He asked, restraining himself to just fuck her with her fingers until she would crate a whole different ocean under them.

“Yes-” She panted, and let out a moan as he slipped his two thick fingers inside her. Aemond groaned at her beautiful sound, leaning his forehead against hers, as he crooked his fingers, rubbing her inner walls, searching desperately for that spot he knew women had.

His head fell on her shoulder as he imagined how her tight walls could feel around his cock, squeezing him from every side, massaging him, warming him.

“Where is it?” He growled to himself, against her ear, making a shiver run through her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers digging on his back as she kept moaning.

Aemond smiled satisfied only when he heard her gasp, and moan louder, knowing he had found that spot. He kept rubbing it continuously, and when he felt her walls clenched around his fingers, his eye nearly rolled back.

He couldn’t wait to feel her, to know what her walls squeezing around him would feel.

“A-Aemond-” She panted, knowing she was close to the edge. She could feel herself tensing, and she knew she was going to experience one of her best orgasms ever.

His fingers moved faster inside her, and she had to cover her mouth to not moan too loud.

“I-I’m gonna- c-come —” She closed her eyes shut, wrapped her arm tighter around him, bringing him closer as her hips started to squirm, her legs trembling, and then, she let go, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her body, her back arching as Aemond slowed down his fingers and slowly slipped them out.

Once she was relaxed, she slowly let go of Aemond and unwrapped her arm from his neck, slowly opening her eyes and moving her hand away from her mouth.

She could see that Aemond was restraining himself. He kneeled between her legs, looking down at her as he opened his belt.

“I… I need to-” He panted heavily, his brows slightly arched in pain.

“I know.” She nodded and sat up, helping him lower his pants. He lowered them just enough to let his cock spring out, then he grabbed his condom from his pockets, opening the package and rolling it down his hard cock.

She tried not to look too much, but it felt almost impossible. The only dicks she had ever seen were in porns, but she swore that it was the biggest one she had ever seen, and she didn’t know if she should have been more agitated or excited.

Aemond placed his hand under her chin and kissed her gently, in a way that felt more like a promise that he wouldn't have hurt her rather than driven by simple desire.

He leaned back over her, forcing her to lay back on the sand, then he placed one hand beside her head, the other tugging her pants down impatiently. She helped him remove them, the slight breeze of the night making her shiver slightly, when in fact, she was hot all over.

“I’ll be gentle, just-” He fisted his cock a couple of times before rubbing his tip against her clit, finding it again with ease. She moaned softly and looked up at him, even if his eye was concentrated on looking at his cock so close to her cunt.

“Please, can I-” He groaned as he kept rubbing his tip against her. “Just the tip now, but–”

“Yes.” She said before he could even finish his sentence, she had never, ever felt more turned on than in that moment, and she too, couldn’t wait any longer.

Aemond bent his arm and rested on his elbow on top of her and kissed her as he gently pushed against her entrance. The stretch stung, but it wasn’t as painful as she imagined, or as she had been told. There was a strange edge of pleasure along with the pain that made her crave more.

She widened her legs as Aemond lift back just enough to look at her.

“More.” She panted, her hands moving to his hips to gently move him lower, his cock slipping deeper inside her. Her mouth opened and she arched her brows, taking a deep breath, her head falling back and she bent her legs as Aemond bottomed out inside her. 

“Y-you’re so tight—“ He groaned, a hint of surprise in his voice.

Her walls were enveloping everywhere, squeezing him, clenching as they adapted to the intrusion of his cock. He had to close his eye and try hard to not move, or even worse, come, but hell if it was hard when she felt so fucking good.

“It feels so fucking amazing—“ He dipped his head under her face, kissing her neck, trying to distract her from her discomfort.

“You feel good too…” She panted, her arms wrapped around his back, hugging him tightly. Aemond’s hand moved to her thigh, caressing it softly, raising his head to look at her.

They did it.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking at her in her eyes. She nodded.

“Yeah. Y-you can move…” She blushed as she said that and Aemond never loved an order more than that one.

He started pulling out, until only his tip would be inside her, then gently thrust forward, trying to caress her walls as carefully as possible, hoping she would quickly feel good enough to let him go faster.

She moaned, her face showing still a bit of pain, but it faded away as he kept rolling his hips slowly and gently.

It felt good, foreign, but wonderfully good. She felt extremely full, and she found herself getting addicted to the feeling.

“Aemond-“ She looked up at him. “Move faster…” She asked.

Aemond immediately sat up and complied, grabbing her waist tightly from under her sweater.

“Please tell me you’re okay—“ He growled as he tried to not go too fast for her. “You feel so fucking good-“ He growled, as he looked down at how his cock kept entering her again and again. He moved his hand to her clit, finding it immediately to her surprise, and he started rubbing it again just as she told him before, making her pleasure overpower the pain.

“Does it still hurt?” He panted as he looked up at her. She shook her head as her back arched, her hips rolling along with his thrust.

“Let me move faster—“ He panted. “Please- This feels so fucking good.” He growled. 

“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay, I’m fine-“ She couldn’t finish her sentence as he bent over her, starting to thrust harder as his arm wrapped around her head, his hand moved on top of it, keeping her against his shoulder as he kept rolling his hips, picking up the pace.

“Keep going, Aem-“ She moaned, her hands clenching on his shirt. “I love it—“ She cried out as she felt her orgasm growing.

“Yes. I fucking love it too.” He growled. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” He panted.

“Me neither.” She moaned as her back arched, her cunt clenched tightly as she felt the tension building inside her, ready to snap.

Aemond moaned loudly as he felt her clenching, the pleasure taking his body.

“Y-you’re tighter—“ He gasped and pressed her closer, thrusting faster, harder, more intensely. He was completely out of control of his body, he was letting himself get driven by the pleasure, the ecstasy that he was feeling, that she was making him feel. 

“Fuck!” He tried to keep his pace steady with his fingers on her clit, hoping she would come soon because he didn’t know if he would last much longer.

“Oh, Aemond-“ She moaned as she hid her face in his neck. His cock was brushing repeatedly on the same spot his fingers rubbed before, but along with the stretch, the knowledge that they were having sex, that he was inside her, made it all more intense.

“I-I’m gonna-“ She cried out.

“Me too.” Just as he said that, she exploded around him, clenching tighter around him as she moaned and jerked her hips. “Yes, fuck yes—“ He moaned as he came, his balls releasing the hot cum inside the condom, his cock getting massaged repeatedly by her walls, that were still spasming.

They stayed still for a long time, hugging each other until their breaths returned to normal. Then, he slowly, gently pulled out, noticing her wincing when she did.

“Are you okay?” He asked, stopping his movements and looking at her, worried.

She nodded.

“Yeah, just… a strange feeling.” She said, Aemond nodded and laid back beside her.

They laid in silence, their brains registering what just happened.

“Sex… sex is amazing.” She smiled, happy. Aemond chuckled beside her.

“It really is.” He laughed with her.

They quickly dressed back up and stood up, walking back to his car.

“Your condom really was useful in the end!” She laughed as she walked beside him.

“Told you.” He smiled and looked. He wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and he offered her the last cheery with his other hand. She smiled at it and took it, throwing it in her mouth.

“Careful. You might choke on it if you throw it in your mouth like that.”

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95 @urfavnoirette @summerposie @sk1mah1 @queenofshinigamis @anukulee @chlmtfilms @m-riaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @malfoycassimalfoy @agoldenwoe @sapphirevhagar

[littelovelunette]

Hiiii! im not sure if youve made something like this but could you write like sevika x reader having rough possessive sex in front of someone? like a stalker-ex of reader or some guy thats been eyeing reader too much during one of sevikas gambling games. I really love your writing btw!! and sorry if it doesn’t make sense

Duality & Gunpowder

Thank youuu

Contains smut, dark!Sevika, exhibitionism, restraints, Sevika having duality, praise kink

murder, gun, stalking mentioned, threats

Dark!Sevika x Fem!Reader

Sevika had you bent over the table, wrists tied together as she squeezed your ass, "We have a viewer today, darling," she said, her voice low and soft.

You were clothed, and so was Sevika, yet she had on the strap harness. You had no panties on underneath her skirt through, so Sevika could access you easily.

You nodded, slowly looking up to see your ex tied to a chair, with his mouth duct taped shut. He struggled against the ropes but it was useless.

Sevika chuckled, shaking her head, "Eyes over here, pretty boy," she taunted, her gun pointed towards his head as her strap's head teased your wet cunt from under your skirt.

"Wasn't the best idea stalking your ex, now, was it?" Sevika laughed, a low rumbled from her chest before she pistoned her hips forwards and the toy disappeared in your pussy with a squelching sound that made you blush.

"O-oh, Sev..."

"It's okay, angel, shush, I've got you," Sevika whispered in your ear, her other hand gently rubbing your back, thumb tracing patterns on your clothed behind while her hips continued their motions.

Her pace wasn't too fast or too slow, deep and calculated was the phrase for it. Sevika's eyes were fixed on your struggling ex-boyfriend who mumbled something incomprehensible in the gag but none of the both of you cared enough to really listen.

Sevika slammed the strap inside suddenly causing you to let out a small squeak of surprise and tighten around the silicone. Sevika was never rough with you, she adored you. You were her light, her angel, her little flower, her everything.

Every good thing she had in life had to be correlated to you. Or it simply wasn't good enough.

The tough life in Zaun hardened Sevika enough to know she needed to cherish someone like you in her life because it wasn't easy to come by love so pure. She needed to protect you even if that meant putting a bullet through your ex's skull.

"You're so tense, my love," Sevika gave your lower back a firm rub, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, please, keep going," you said, eyes closing and head tilting back.

Small moans and gasps left your lips as your back arched feeling the big strap shoving all the way inside and then back out. The thrusts were deeper than before, your hands quickly scrambling to grab the edges of the table so you could anchor yourself properly, you were almost melting in her arms.

"Eyes here, boy," Sevika barked at your ex who was trying to look away, unable to bear the sight in front of him, "You either look this way or I make you look this way."

You let out a loud moan as if punctuating her words, and showcasing just how much Sevika was capable of doing. Sevika smirked, voice softening once she spoke to you like it always did.

"Yeah? Enjoying, my angel?"

Sevika took a deep breath before fastening her pace, causing the table to rattle on its legs. You doubted it could hold the both of you up for too long, so you tried to push back only resulting the toy to sink further inside you.

"Your cunt is so pretty," Sevika whispered in your ear as she continued thrusting, her gun hand still fixed at its form, pointing towards your ex.

"S-Sevika, I'm close," you whimpered and Sevika smirked, starting to thrust harder than before making your moans louder.

You whined and gripped onto the table for support, crying out as you felt her ram into you from behind. You were on the verge of tears due to the overwhelming pleasure but Sevika's thrusts knew no end. Your mouth was open, gasps issuing and moans escaping.

With one final thrust, you came and Sevika held herself inside for a bit. The loud gunshot went off, your eyes widening in shock as you whipped your head around to take a look. Sevika's expression was as hardened as ever, gazing at your ex-boyfriend's now dead body in the chair.

He was slumped in the chair, eyes wide and empty, drool running down the gag as if he'd been trying to silently plead for his life through the gag but of course, none of the both of you really cared to listen.

You looked at Sevika, feeling uneasy about the corpse in the room, "Sevika..." Your voice was a faint mewl.

Sevika nodded, "I know, baby, I know."

The strap pulled out of your pussy with a wet pop making you whine at the sudden emptiness of your hole. Sevika didn't waste any time and picked you up bridal style. She walked up the stairs of the basement, face still as unfeeling as ever when it came to the ruthless murder of your ex.

But for you? Sevika was all soft and sweet for you. Her top priority now was to run you a bubble bath and tuck you in bed before she went to dispose of your ex.