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retrievablememories · 11 months

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cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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thefreakandthehair · 9 months

Text

(don't bother) calling me when you're sober | rating: m | wc: 1.5k

content warnings: future fic, parental alcoholism ("falling off the wagon"), past parental neglect, minor character death (i've committed wayne crimes i'm so sorry but it's not shown, just mentioned), emotional hurt/comfort, ends on a happy, hopeful note despite the tags

“My dad called.”

Eddie walks into the room, pinched eyebrows and flared nostrils lit up by the multicolored Christmas lights they string on the tree every year, one hand balled into a fist. The reaction wouldn’t surprise Steve so much if this happened years ago, when Al Munson was still living in the bottom of a bottle of Jack, but now?

It’s been eighteen years since he’d gotten sober, nineteen years since his last stint at Hawkins County, and fifteen years since making a genuine attempt to right the wrongs of Eddie’s childhood and build a relationship with his son.

Fifteen years after Eddie let him in, let him try, let him earn Eddie’s trust.

Fifteen years is a long time and to see Eddie so vitriolic in the doorway of their apartment’s living room— hands shaking, body shaking— Steve knows something must’ve gone wrong.

“What happened?” Steve asks, standing from the couch and meeting Eddie where he stands, holding the hand not curled tightly around itself.

“He’s drunk. He called, and he was drunk.”

Steve’s chest pulls tight, his heart racing. What does someone say to that? What can someone say to assuage that kind of deep anger, pain, and betrayal? His thoughts are scattered as they try to make sense of what Eddie just said, and he’s even more grateful now that Ronnie wanted a sleepover with Aunt Robin tonight.

“Eddie, fuck. I’m so— ” Before he can finish his thought, Eddie leans back against the doorframe, ripping his hand out of Steve’s and tangling his fingers in his hair, tugging.

“How could he? How fucking could he?!” Eddie bellows, eyes squeezed shut. “He knew! He knew that if he ever did this again, I’d be done. For good. For forever. And he did it anyways! After eighteen fucking years!”

His eyes fly open and Steve stands still and nods him on. There are just no words to fix this, and trying for the sake of filling the silence has never served him well.

“He did it anyway! Two days before fucking Christmas, a week before the anniversary of—” He chokes and cuts himself off.

He knows what Eddie was going to say. A week before the anniversary of Wayne’s death. It’s been on his mind, too, of course. On his mind and in their conversations over breakfast with eccentric mugs of coffee, over the tangled lights that Wayne could always figure out. The year hasn’t been the kindest to them, particularly Eddie, and Steve wants to protect Eddie as much as he can from whatever he can.

But he can’t shield him from this. Al Munson skips to the top of his shitlist.

“That son of a bitch!” Eddie rams his fist sideways against the door jam, leaving a sharp, red mark along his pinky. “He promised, and I believed him. Why the fuck did I believe him, Steve?”

Steve takes a step closer and grabs both of Eddie’s hands, carefully soothing the angry mark. “It’s been almost twenty years, babe. Trusting him with so much time invested makes sense. Hell, I did, too.”

“I’m— I’m in my 30s, hurt and angry about the same shit I was hurt and angry about as a fucking kid. All the nights I slept in the backseat of the car because he blew his money at the bar, all the car accidents and court appearances and jail time, all the mornings I missed school because he didn’t know what fucking day it was,” Eddie rants, stopping to take a breath before picking back up, Steve’s own heart cracking and raging the more he speaks.

“And every time he’d get sober, he’d always promise. He’d promise it would be the last time, and it never was. Not once could he choose his fucking son and I didn’t understand it then, but now that we have Ronnie, I understand it even less. If I was sick enough to walk away from her, I’d walk my happy ass to the nearest fucking rehab. I get that it’s a disease, I get it, I get it, I get it. But I can’t— I can’t do it again. Not this time. Eighteen years just down the fucking drain because of his company’s holiday party? How can I ever believe him again? Or trust him again?”

Eddie’s voice grows raspier, breath shallow and quick, eyes watery. “Every time this happened when I was a kid, I always had Wayne. He’s the only person who really got it, y’know? The only one who lived it with me and now, I don’t even have him. My dad’s drunk, slurring his way through who fucking knows what on the phone, and no one else can fully understand the magnitude of what that feels like for me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut again and drops forward toward Steve, forehead on his shoulder and arms loosely hung around Steve’s waist. Steve still doesn’t have words that bandage this up, but he knows how to show his husband love in other ways. Ways that, over the years, have become a language all their own. Steve pulls him in tight, one hand near his waist, the other cradling the back of his head. Fingers slide carefully beneath the hem of Eddie’s tee-shirt and rub little, repetitive circles into the small of Eddie’s back while he cards his other hand through Eddie’s hair, scratching his scalp and holding him to his chest to feel the rhythm of Steve’s own heartbeat until his breath returns to a steady pace.

It’s only then that Steve speaks.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed. It’s fucked up, and if you want to me like, hit him with my car, you know I’m game.” Steve feels Eddie laugh— just a few puffs of air through his nose but it’s a laugh all the same. “But I’m here, and we’re gonna figure it out, okay? Whatever you decide to do, we’ll do it together.”

Eddie nods and lets himself be led to the couch, Steve tucking Eddie into his side and pulling the afghan up over them.

“I never want to be what Al was to me to our daughter,” Eddie whispers, not looking away from the tree.

“Well, you’re ahead of the game, because she’s already older than you were when he started hitting the bottle hard. And I know there’s the genetic piece to it that everyone talks about, but nurture counts for a lot of who we become, too. Shit, I owe Joyce Byers a huge thank you for being more of a parent to me than my own were because she’s probably the reason I didn’t turn out like Dick Harrington. Ronnie’s never going to have an Al Munson in her life, because you weren’t raised by Al Munson. That’s not whose legacy you’re passing down. You’re passing down love, not pain.” Steve presses a soft kiss to Eddie’s temple and feels his whole body sag into him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Eddie’s voice is quiet now, a far cry from his earlier venomous edge.

Silence nestles onto the couch with them, a comfortable addition, as they watch the basketball game Steve had on before Eddie told him about the phone call. Watch is a loose description, actually. They're more just looking at a moving, flashing screen.

“My hand really hurts, by the way,” Eddie announces, holding up the hand he’d used to punch the doorjam. “That was fucking dumb.”

“Maybe a little bit, but I get it,” Steve untucks a hand from beneath the blanket and outstretches his palm. “Lemme see?”

Eddie plops his hand into Steve’s and Steve takes a look, mentally working down the check list he’s memorized from his decade plus of EMT work. No obvious breaks, nothing looks crooked, Eddie’s able to move each finger and flex his hand without severe pain.

“If anything, it’s just gonna be bruised tomorrow. But I’ll fix it,” Steve grins and lifts Eddie’s fist to his lips, carefully kissing each knuckle and paying a little extra attention to the pinky that delivered most of the blow.

“I’m so in love with you, Steve.” Eddie rests his temple on Steve’s shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” Steve agrees, chest fluttering despite the circumstances. “And I’m in love with you, too. You know that, right?”

Eddie snuggles in and wraps Steve up, full koala, as though he’s trying to get as close as possible without actually cracking Steve open and climbing inside of him.

“Definitely.”

The next morning, Aunt Robin brings Ronnie home and together, they decorate the gingerbread cookies that only vaguely look like people but are good enough to pass for a seven year old. Halfway through, Eddie’s cell phone rings and the caller I.D. reads Al. Steve watches, worried that Eddie’s going to answer in the middle of their decorating. That he’ll forget Ronnie’s having the time of her life, and that in his righteous indignation, Eddie will leave the table to go fight and argue.

There’s so much to be said, and Steve wouldn’t blame him, but he breathes a sigh of relief when Eddie simply declines the call and sets about pouring more edible glitter onto his design with a smile down at their daughter.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #(whispers): yeah so my mom fell off the wagon after 18 years at her fucking work party and this is basically just what my day was #our relationship has always been strained but since she got sober there was at least some contact?#anyways #replace wayne with my grandparents and this is just all projection baybee 😙✌️#super not cool with it BUT that's why there are some content warnings here you don't see from me very often 💕

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namikawa · 3 months

Text

— [the perfect host]

featuring: s. geto, s. gojo

cw: smut, implied threesome, cunnulingus, implied m/m, phone sex (?), daddy kink (ofc), established relationship (reader & gojo), fingering, fem reader, chubby reader, getting “caught” masturbating, use of the word cunt (sorry lol), aftercare, not proofread fr, anything else i forgot lolz, pet names (mama, baby, pretty, sweetheart, love). wc: n/a.

notes: this is actually a fic my friend wrote (never published) & i re did it with two diff characters & finished it for her cause she never did… so if yall like it GO TO HER BLOG ILL TAG HER. this wasn’t my og idea i just wrote the smut and tweaked & added. but enjoy pls, sorry i haven’t posted in so long life has beat me up. @nvmjccnluv !!!

“so explain to me why i’m watching her again, she seems completely capable of staying in your apartment alone yknow.” suguru questions over the phone. it’s not that he hates you, but what if he was busy? he wasn’t, but gojo didn’t need to know that, he didn’t even ask to be fair. quickly dropping you off after handing the long haired man a small bag of your things.

on the other end of the phone gojo lets out a huff of laughter. “had a few things to finish up, she gets too lonely when i leave her at home so i didn’t want her getting into things. you know how it is.”

“i actually don’t, but okay man.”

“anyway, she doesn’t like many people but she didn’t seem to mind you the last time we hung out, you seemed like a safe option.” gojo continues, sounding a bit strained.

“okay, whatever, fine.”

“where’s she at anyways? if she was with you she would’ve jumped your bones to get to the phone.”

walking toward the the closed door in the hallway, geto chuckles before reassuring his friend. “relax dude, she’s in the room taking a na- holy shit.”

“what happened??”

the dark haired man places his ear on the door to make sure he’s not hallucinating, not saying that he’s hoping to be.

muffled moans greet his ears, but not muffled enough evidently. no, you wanted him to hear. he would have to pass by your room anyways, given that you two would be sharing a wall for the night. but him being on the phone with your boyfriend was just a coincidence, an extremely embarrassing one.

he listens to your soft whines and high pitched whimpers for what feels like days, though its hasn’t even been half a minute, paying no mind to the man yelling at him on the phone.

“SUGURU? ANSWER ME! IS SHE OKAY? I SWEAR IF SOMETHING HAPPE-” at this point geto tries to think as hard as possible to come up with a lie that won’t get him killed by his friend.

snapping out of his daze, he finally gets enough courage to respond, “yeah um i’m pretty sure, maybe i’m wrong, i think she’s uh masturbating.”

“oh, oh okay” suguru can basically hear a smirk he knows all to well forming on gojos mouth. “don’t be a rude host, go help her out man.”

what the fuck is he talking about help you out? he can’t be understanding that this is his girlfriend he’s talking about, right? on top of that, shouldn’t he be asking you for consent as well.

“are you insane man? i know you’re into all that weird shit, but her? she’d probably kill me before i even got close to the bed and throw my dead body out of my own apartment.” as nice as it sounds he didn’t know if you’d be okay with any of this. he wasn’t going to just walk straight in, right?

there’s a loud howl that comes directly from the other end of the phone. “are you really being this much of a pussy right now? i’m giving you full permission to go help my girl out, and you wanna whine about how she might kill y-”

“shut the hell up man, i didn’t say anything about being a pussy.”

“alright, then there shouldn’t be an issue with you helping her out. don’t sit up on your high horse and act like you haven’t thought about it before, i know just how those perverted thoughts of yours work, don’t you rememb-”

“okay okay shut up satoru, im going.”

pushing open the door, the first thing geto notices is your hand rubbing lightly between your soft thighs and how your wetness soaks the bed, clear evidence of how needy you were. how long have you been at it?

gojo can hear you so clearly over the phone, he might as well be in the room with you, “shit, is that her pussy i’m hearing? whats it look like?” he questions, but unfortunately for him he receives no answer.

suguru is too busy enjoying the view and listening to the pathetic little sounds coming from your cunt. his sweatpants are slowly starting to fit a little tighter than before, but he doesn’t make any movements yet, just in case you don’t wanna play this little game.

almost immediately your soft eyes flutter open and lock into his, and he swears he just came in his pants.

“sugi, please, it hurts so much,” you whine out to him, desperate for his veiny hands on you. your own hand never seems to falter though, only moving in more erratic circles around your sensitive clit; while your other hand is busy touching your nipples, trying to get the most stimulation possible.

knowing that you were just as needy for him as he was for you made the man’s confidence peak. he gives you a light smile as he walks closer to the bed, softly sitting down next to you. he leans over you a bit, close enough to where you can smell the minty, almost overpowering, scent of his shampoo. half his hair loosely tied up in a bun, the other half falling past his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“something wrong, pretty? those fingers not doing enough for you, right? don’t ‘cha wanna wait for your boyfriend to come back so he can help you out, he’s on the phone you know.”

his soft hands begin to work at your thighs, but it seems like it’ll never be any more than that. continuing for a little longer, he presses the speaker button on his phone, handing it over to you as you pull away from your core.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?” gojo asks, now finally getting some time to speak to you after being ignored for so long. “i gave sugi permission to help you out, okay? does that sound alright to you?” he utilizes the small nickname you’d given his friend, innocently coercing you to be good.

you give a small “mmm” in agreement. then, opening your legs, you grab at suguru’s hand and place it between your thighs, just barely touching your cunt.

gojo continues, smiling to himself on the other side of the device. “‘kay. i’m gonna talk you through it, just so i know you’re treating my girl right. take two of your fingers and stuff it inside of her, she’ll clench up at first but just keep working at it and she’ll open up, okay? maybe if you do good, you can have something too.”

geto lets out an annoyed breath, short, but just long enough for gojo to catch it. he knows what that means. what’s even stopping him from fucking you in first place? it’s not like gojo would know. but as he looks into your pleading eyes he realizes he’d do anything to make sure you’re content and happy.. even if that means listening to satoru’s perverted requests.

his fingers slide down to rub at your clit just a bit, before burying his pointer and ring finger deep into your cunt, you clench so tight around him, it makes him feel like he’s dreaming the way your teeth suck at your bottom lip attempting to hide your whines.

“cmon pretty, open up for me. promise i’ll make you feel good, okay?”

a throaty whimper slides from between your lips as geto’s fingers work you open. “‘s good sugi, please like that more.” you scoot down a little more, chasing his fingers to get even just a little more stimulation.

“next you’re gonna press on her clit, just a little though she’s a sensitive little thing.” gojo groans out, it’s obvious he’s taken a break from his work to focus on… other things.

“yeah yeah, i know how to use my fingers, asshole.” suguru voices, clearly annoyed. although, he still abides by the instructions and moves his thumb to press on your clit just a tiny bit. your back arches away from his fingers almost immediately, like a natural instinct, he grabs your plush hips with his other hand, pulling you back down. “nuh uh, c’mere sweet girl, you wanted my help you’re gonna get it.”

his delicate fingers curve upward into you and you feel as if you’re floating on cloud nine, the way he flicks them at just the right speed while managing to hold you down and deepen his movements. it’s all too much for him you.

the sound of gojo’s voice breaks geto out of his daze, “fuck, i gotta go suguru. i know you’ll take care of her. i’m gonna have to cut this shit short, i’ll try to come back later tonight instead of tomorrow morning. love you guys, love you baby, be good for sugi okay?” geto’s eyes immediately flicker to yours, and you see just a little bit of what you think could be fear, or excitement, in his eyes.

“bye daddy, love you too.” you whine out, hearing a quick click before the call ends.

“daddy?” he questions. “knew he was into some shit, didn’t know you were too, sweet girl. you’re too pretty and innocent, or at least you put up a good act.” his fingers slide out of you as he snickers, not ignoring the way you pout at the loss of stimuli.

“nah, not gonna leave you here all needy don’t worry mama, just gonna do it my way, that sound good to you?” geto grabs you by your hips as you choke out a small “yea”, pushing you closer to the headboard of the bed. he fully removes his hair tie and throws all of it up into a bun, swiftly grabbing your underwear and pulling it off.

you look down at him as he crawls closer to you on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs and closing them around his head. you feel his fingers spread your cunt apart, licking a long stripe onto you. your body tenses up, and on instinct your hand finds its way into suguru’s hair, tugging lightly. his head perks up at you, smiling, but eventually just deciding to leave you be.

his tongue swipes over your clit, taking small breaths occasionally as he tastes your cunt. neither one of you know who this is really for at this point. he’s supposed to be ‘helping you’ but with the tent growing in his sweats he might as well be doing this for his own pleasure instead. you continue to take harsh pulls at his dark strands, so unfamiliar to you. mostly with satoru you opted for scratching at his shoulders or gripping at the sheets due to the length he kept his hair, but this, this was something you could get used to.

“sugi please, m so close, want it so bad, need you to make me cum.” you cry out, loving the way his nose rubs against your clit as he licks.

he doesn’t say anything, he can’t really, but you know he understands. he grips your thighs tighter, licking the same way as before, occasionally sucking at your clit, and before you know it you’re squirming all over his face as that familiar feeling rushes over you.

the only thing that suguru could make out of your cries were “thank you”, “so good”, and “daddy”? he wasn’t sure if you were calling him daddy or if you wanted gojo, but at this point it didn’t really matter to him. he pleased you and that’s all he needed to make him feel better.

as he lifted his head up from your pussy he could already tell how tired you were getting, he immediately grabbed you a change of clothes that gojo had packed and cleaned you up with a wet washcloth. “everything okay, mama? need anything?” your eyes strain open and you smile at the man standing above you, “i’m okay, thank you for your help. will you stay?” you could tell that he genuinely cared for you, and was worried he had done something wrong by the tone in his voice. him staying was more for him rather than yourself, not that you were complaining.

he pulled off his shirt as he crawled into bed next to you. grabbing his phone from the bedside table he saw that gojo had sent him a message.

“i’ll take care of you both when i’m back, cause i’m betting you didn’t take anything for yourself. see you both soon ;)”

suguru chuckled to himself at the message from his friend, looking down at you peacefully sleeping on his chest. maybe he could get used to something like this? but for now, he’s content.

#satosugu #gojo satoru #gojo saturo smut #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #geto x you #✉️#getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto fluff #gojo fluff

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madame-fear · 6 months

Text

𐙚 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : father forgive me for I have sinned— but I regret nothing. first time writing a threesome so I hope I did it well !! 🤧 also,, rightful honourary tags will be all the way below the fic! 💕 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : your boyfriend, Francisco, proposes to you to have a threesome with his friend & cast mate, Esteban. you might be reluctanct at first, but you’ll end up mentally thanking him for coming up with the idea. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 4.5k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut, some fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x (fem!)Reader x Esteban Kukuriczka

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; threesome, fingering, slight breast/nipple play, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving)/facefucking, handjob, getting cummed in your mouth & having to swallow it, P in V, unprotected sex, creampie, profanity, some praising, them fighting a little bit for your attention (sorry I had to lmaoo).

“Don’t you think it could be fun?”

And yet again, your boyfriend insisted on having a threesome. It seemed that the idea of sharing you somehow thrilled him.

Delicately, your fingers played with strands of his dark blonde hair as his head rested on your lap. Arching your eyebrows, you lowered your gaze — since you were supposed to calmly be watching TV together — to stare at him, only to find him attentively staring back at you with his pretty green eyes.

Several days had passed since Fran first proposed a threesome, but he had been particularly insisting on it since a few days ago. You felt shy at the thought of it, but not uncomfortable — you couldn’t deny, you felt quite intrigued and curious.

“Okay, fine. You might be right, and it could be fun.” you replied, continuing to play with his hair lovingly. “But with who are we going to have a threesome, anyways? I can’t really think of anyone to join us, if I wanted to.” some seconds of silence loomed between you two after your question, no one in particular really came to your mind to have such intimate experience. “Well... I might be able to think of someone,” his words trailed off, quietly.

You raised your eyebrow curiously, awaiting for him to continue. His gaze lingered elsewhere, thinking silently, before going back to stare at you with a meek grin. “Kuku told me many times before that he thought you were a very pretty girl, and that I was lucky to have you, so...” at his comment, you immediatly furrowed your eyebrows, feeling a heated fluster occupy your cheeks, understanding what he tried to imply. You felt reluctanct at the idea of asking Kuku such a thing, but at the same time... He was a good option.

Before you officially began dating Fran, while they were still filming La Sociedad de la Nieve, he had introduced you to his cast mates. All of them were incredibly sweet and fun to be around — but at that moment, you felt particularly attracted to one of them, and that was Esteban Kukuriczka. It was a crush that didn’t last long, as you began dating Fran a short while after crushing on Kuku, and of course, all the love and affection you had to offer, was devotedly given to your now boyfriend.

“Are you... Being for real?” you seemed baffled, dumbfounded. “What if he isn’t into that type of thing, and gets upset at us—” quickly before you could further continue with your objection, Fran shifted positions so instead of having his head resting on your lap, he was sitting next to you, with one of his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to his own.

“I’m certain he won’t decline, trust me.” he continued, “Besides, I know you’d like him to join us. I remember being jealous when you had a crush on him, before we started dating... And now, I don’t mind sharing you with him.” you clicked your tongue at his teasing, failing to hide the growing blush in your cheeks. “And... I also know he’s certainly going to appreciate the fact that I’m willing to share you.” moving your gaze away to avoid his own strong staring, you considered what he had told you.

Both of them were extremely close while, and after filming the movie — Fran knew him much better than you did, and if he said Kuku would accept having joining you for a threesome, you wholeheartedly trusted him. After all, despite being hesitant, you were willing as well to try new experiences. And it was even better if there were two involved with you, rather than just one.

His hand gently moved up and down your arm, caressing it, as you thought quietly to yourself. And it didn’t take you long to consider it, as you turned around once again to stare at him, slightly grinning. The expression on his face resembled that of an eager puppy, knowing you’d most likely accept.

“You know what? Fine,” you began, “I’d very much like him to join us. You can ask him if he wants to.” and with your approval, a sigh of relief escaped from him. Your boyfriend had always been committed to pleasuring you in any possible way that there was, and he was insistent on trying new experience because, eventually, Fran knew you would like them.

“Gracias, mi amor.” cupping both your cheeks firmly, Fran pressed a loving smooch on your forehead, making you widely grin. All that there was left to do now, was send a message to his cast friend, and simply find a proper day where you would all be free.

“You won’t regret it, we will both make sure you are properly taken care of.”

You knew your reluctance would eventually bend into acceptation of the idea of a threesome— and to further develop into genuinely fancying it.

The pounding of your heart increased rapidly, beating loudly against your chest; it made your entire body tremble slightly. As Fran had previously reassured you, Kukuriczka did accept the proposal of joining the two of you for a threesome — and currently, you found yourself in the bed you shared with Francisco... Being pampered in loving kisses and gentle touches by both him, and Kuku.

It felt strange, to have two men thrown entirely at you, showering you with a teasing affection; but you weren’t complaining at all. In fact, you could quite get used to the feeling with no problem at all, as you enjoyed receiving the attention from both of your favourite boys.

Soft groans spurred delicately from your lips. Your eyes were closed, tilting your head to a side as you sweetly, yet fervently kissed Fran; moaning quietly against his lips. His warm hand was under your shirt, possesively caressing one of your breasts, squeezing it and brushing his thumb across your hardened nipple; knowing it was an easy way to get you turned on.

It didn’t help either to feel the elder Argentine man’s thin lips pressing smooches all over the soft spots of your neck, occasionally on your shoulder, as his hand had sneaked inside your underwear, rubbing his fingers across the wet entrance of your pussy in a teasing manner. “Already eager to feel two cocks inside of you, hm?” he teased, feeling his hot breath against your sensitive skin, making you pull briefly from your boyfriend’s lips. “And to think you were making such a fuss of it yesterday, not wanting to get him upset at us— Now, you’re all wet for us.” your boyfriend remarked, smiling proudly, squeezing your breast possesively.

“Shut up.” you muttered in between soft pants, trying to dismiss both as you were being stimulated by them. It seemed as if they enjoyed taking their time with you and playing around, appreciating every single reaction of yours. A crimson tint notoriously occupied your cheeks, spreading across your face at the teasing actions of both men.

Before you, or any of the boys, could say anything else, you felt two fingers abruptly entering deeply into your moist cunt, thrusting gently. “Fuck,” you gasped, spreading your legs wider unconsciously— leaving both men satisfied with your response. For your aching hole, being filled with Kuku’s fingers was a relief.

Initially, his movements inside of you with his digits were careful, appreciating every inch of your inner walls — and it didn’t take too long until both fingers were coated with your slick, working as a lubricant to slide inside of you more easily. Aching for more, you began moving your hips against his fingers, helping him to satisfy you.

“Your boyfriend’s right, you do look so pretty when you’re wet.” a grunt spurred from your lips, trying to think of something coherent to reply, but you felt too fogged by the pleasure you received. You squirmed even more when his lips were pressed against the corner of your lips for a brief moment. “He’ll need to share you with me more often.” something that was both adorable and fun to notice, was just how flustered — and incredibly wetter — you got at the mention of both men talking about you in a sexual manner, being taken care of by both of them.

On the other hand, Fran shamelessly lifted your shirt, leaving both your tits exposed. If there was a part of your body that never failed to fervidly turned him on, those were your breasts — and he adored getting his hands and mouth on them. Faint grunts kept escaping from you as the pace of the fingerfucking increased, and the dark blonde haired Argentine’s mouth took your breast that he had been previously squeezing, moving his hand to your other tit, trying to give as much equal attention to them as possible.

Wet kisses were placed across your aureola, only to then teasingly, leisurely pass his tongue over your stimulated nipple, and he occasionally nibbled on the sensitive skin of your breast. At the feeling, you moved your chest forward, giving him more access to use his mouth. Your hand went to the back of Fran’s head, interwining messily your fingers in between his blonde curls, burying his head on your chest to encourage him further to keep going.

The other man’s fingers began thrusting harder, and faster in and out of you. Your head was slightly thrown back; the sound of your timid moans and the fleshy sound of your pussy being continously stimulated were the only things heard in the room.

“It seems that your boyfriend treats you quite well, doesn’t he?” with his free hand, Kukuriczka delicately took hold of your chin, forcing you to stare into his beautiful brown eyes. Your own wetness oozed out of you, staining your inner thighs — and having Fran’s mouth ravenously taking your breast and kneading the other wasn’t helping at all. You bit your lower lip as you stared at the older man, feeling another one of his fingers slip inside of you. “He’s stretched you so well, that I can fit three fingers inside of you.”

He had been previously given permission to kiss you if the opportunity was presented, and so, he did. Tilting his head softly, Kuku leaned closer to your face, pressing his lips against your own in a delicste manner while his three fingers intensely thrusted inside of you, beginning to hit that sweet spot of yours.

It didn’t take him too long to figure out which spot of your insides was the most vulnerable, as his fingers got further coated with your dripping slick, you arched your back and your moans became loud whimpers — Esteban was going to abuse that one spot as much as he could.

Moaning against his lips as your hips rolled against his fingers, you felt a knot beginning to faintly form on your stomach. “Such a sweet, good girl you are. You must be enjoying all the pampering we are giving you, aren’t you?” he whispered quietly, pulling away from a moment before going back to endearingly kiss you, and all you could do in response, is deeply hum dumbfounded. By the feeling of your inner walls tightening around his digits, it was obvious you would be about to cum.

The hand resting on the back of Fran’s hair tightened it’s grip on his blonde curls, appreciating the blatant feeling of devotion for your tits; having him filling them with kisses, licking, squeezing them, and even some bruising would appear on your skin from all his nibbling and lovebiting.

The gentle kiss you had been giving to your boyfriend’s cast mate was interrupted as you suddenly broke it away, softly gasping. Fran had abruptly stopped from giving any more attention to your breast with his mouth, pulling apart as his green eyes darted towards the other man, and the hand that was pampering your other breast was playfully — and a bit jealously — placed on Kuku’s face to push him away from you.

“That’s my girlfriend, not yours. Don’t get too confident with her.” immediatly with a scoff, Esteban removed Fran’s hand from his face. The younger Argentine possesively wrapped an arm around you, placing his cheek against your own flustered one. “Too bad you agreed to share her with me, and she seems to be quite enjoying all the attention.” you huffed in annoyance at their little childish fight for you, frustrated at how the fingers inside of you stopped thrusting intensely, just when you felt like cumming.

“Just look at how I ruined your girlfriend.” with a soft whimper, the three fingers inside of you were pulled out from your abused cunt only to leave an empty aching space in you— but he proudly showed his fingers entirely coated in your dripping wetness to your boyfriend, and not only that, but as well as the sight of your visibly trembling legs already said enough. It was true you felt ruined by such stimulation, but they both deserved their rightful credits.

The blonde haired Argentine scoffed at the sight, feeling slight jealousy— but it was cute to see him like that, when he was the one to propose a threesome, and now he felt possesive over you. “It’s not like I haven’t left her like that before, and I’ve done a much better job than you!” he retorted, looking at you lovingly with his green eyes, searching for approval. “Haven’t I, cariño?”

Both men fixed their stare on you, making you simply groan out of frustration. You couldn’t care less about their possesiveness over you and their fighting about which one made you wetter— you needed them inside of you, at the same time. They already managed to make you wet enough equally. “I don’t really care, my love.” you replied frankly, with an increasing desperation to feel both of them. “I would appreciate it if you both shut up, and just fuck me for once.”

Either way, they both felt satisfied to hear your answer. They exchanged knowing looks for a brief moment, making your boyfriend grow a wide grin on his lips. In the atmosphere, it still lingered the possesiveness they both felt foe your attention— but they knew just how to take care of the situation. With the brief stare that they exchanged, it was as if they had told each other ‘we’ll see who makes her moan the most’; and it would be like an unspoken, fun little game between them.

“Don’t get too desperate, my love.” Fran, still grinning to himself at your response, nuzzled the tip of his nose against your cheek before placing a tender smooch against it. “We’re getting to that part now.” his gaze lowered to the shorts you wore, moving his hand to slip it under them slightly, teasingly. “Suck him off, now, and I’ll take care of you from behind, in the meantime.”

You quietly whimpered at the feeling of his hot breath against your skin, having his lips continuing to place gentle pecks. All you could do is hum and nod in agreement— you could feel your own underwear getting stickier with your own slick at the thought of being filled with their cocks. The sight of you being so ruined and sensitive at the slightest stimulation they provided to you was such a delight.

“On your knees, then.” the younger Argentine commanded, placing a last kiss on your shoulder before moving away slightly, giving you enough space to shift positions. An overwhelming feeling of shyness took over you, but you felt too fogged by horniness to even focus on the growing timid feeling.

Kukuriczka fixed his own position, softly leaning against the pillows in the bed, spreading his legs wide enough for you to have space to get in between them, as Fran allowed you to settle. Shyly, you crawled closer to the older man, nibbling on your lower lip delicately. Your hands trembled with anticipation, moving them to his pants to remove them.

“I-Is it okay if I take this off?” you meekly asked, looking up at him with puppy eyes. The nervousness you felt was notorious, and beautifully adorable for them. “Why are you even asking, love?” his hand moved to gently stroke your cheek with the back of his index finger, giving his approval for you to continue. A sheepish grin appeared on your lip, feeling your face grow flustered.

With your hands, you leisurely lowered down both his pants, and his underwear. It’s not like you hadn’t sucked off your boyfriend before— you did, many times; but this was another man, and it was another man you had crushed on before. As soon as you managed to remove his lower clothing, your eyes couldn’t help but stare at his hard cock timidly, and dumbfoundedly.

“Like what you see?” as it was obviously expected, he noticed you staring at his thick manhood, and his hand went to stroke your hair affectionately. You nodded vehemently, trying not to stutter. “Y-Yes, I do.” you replied, smiling stupidly to yourself at the way Kuku gently, yet teasingly treated you.

“But it’s not any better than mine, of course.” your boyfriend scoffed from behind of you, making the other man roll his eyes. “We’ll see that.” Kukuriczka answered back, helplessly making you grin at the little fights they had, to either get more of your attention, or praising.

Fran placed himself delicately on top of you, using his lips to place small, tender kisses on your shoulder as one of his hands played with your shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. In the meantime, you slowly wrapped your hand around Kukuriczka’s cock. From it’s tip oozed pre-cum, and your lips placed a small wet kiss on it, staining your lips faintly with the fluids. With your lips, you kept placing small kisses all over the tip, occasionally moving down a bit to spread the kisses further.

Teasingly, at one moment, you slowly passed your tongue through his tip, savouring all the dripping pre-cum. With pride, you smiled to yourself slightly at the feeling of his cock twitching for you, already— along with his soft grunts, and the way he moved his hips forwards needily, eager to have you suck him off.

Tenderly, your hand began moving up and down on his manhood, stroking him. Leaning closer and partly opening your lips, you took him into your mouth. You moved softly down onto his shaft as deep as you could, trying not to choke yourself as your tongue caressed his size, taking him entirely into your mouth. As his hand had been stroking your hair gently, his hand helplessly formed into a grip on your hair, helping you move your head.

“Fuck,” he grunted quietly, throwing his head back. Despite wanting to be as gentle as possible with you, Kukuriczka couldn’t help it— his hand buried you deeper into his cock as his hips moved forwards to make you take him further, while your hand increased the pace in which it stroked his shaft. Gods, you were atrociously good at it; Esteban never doubted it when he thought — and said — Fran was lucky to be your boyfriend.

On the other hand, Fran had already managed to lower down both your shorts, and underwear at the same time. He couldn’t help but notice the way you were dripping wet for both of them. “She’s so good at it, isn’t she?” Fran chirped playfully, noticing how Kuku seemed to enjoy the attention you were currently giving him— and saying he enjoyed it was an understatement.

“And she’s so beautifully dripping wet for our cocks.” those last words, had been whispered against your ear. All you could do in response was needily grunt, as your mouth was filled with the other man’s hardened shaft. A bit desperately, having noticed just how wet you were, he lowered down his own underwear in a swift motion. Just like Kuku, his own cock was erected as well— needy to feel your inner walls milking him ravenously. It didn’t take him long to place it’s tip on your entrance, and delicately slip his shaft inside of you.

The slipping-in of his cock inside of you had been quite easy and smooth, as your slick worked as a lubricant. You were no stranger to the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock, but you couldn’t help but feel pleasantly overwhelmed at the sensation of two cocks filling your holes. In response to his penetration, you grunted against the other dark haired Argentine’s cock, almost choking on it.

“Your girlfriend is such a good girl. Look at how well she can take two cocks at once,” a rosy haze overtook your cheeks as you heard the two men praising you, hearing their ragged breathing in between each words. You briefly pulled apart from Kuku’s cock, leaving a thin trail of saliva as you tried to catch some air, and a whimpered moan spurred from you. You didn’t know whose name to moan first.

Grunts continued to escape from your lips as Fran continously slipped deeper inside of you, and then out. His movements were initially gentle as always, only to become faster & rougher with the passing of the time. Your inner walls so deliciously tightened around the familiar feeling of his cock, making him proudly smile. Barely being able to think, you kept using your hand to masturbate Esteban, feeling fogged at the pleasure being received.

“Your boyfriend is fucking you so well, that you’re forgetting to use that pretty little mouth of yours— aren’t you?” Kukuriczka teased, as his hand moved towards your chin, using his thumb to brush it across your lips. “Keep going, bonita.” he encouraged, his thumb forcing it’s way into your mouth so you would open it, and his cock entered your mouth once again. There was no complaint from your part, as you needily began tasting his shaft again.

Your tongue swirled across his size, releasing some muffled groans as his hips moved in a way that they almost reached your throat, and Fran took a firm hold of your hips, fucking your overstimulated cunt a bit harder. His cock was entirely coated in your cum, causing a faint fleshy sound to echo across the room, along with the moaning and panting of both men, and your own grunts.

A tear threatened to escape from the corner of your eye, doing your best to focus on both giving, and receiving. Kuku moved his hand on the back of your head, interwining his fingers between strands of your hair, burying his cock deeper into your mouth— and you tried to keep up with the motion, trying not to choke as you were burdened with pleasure, your hand as well masturbating him faster. Their moaning became slightly louder, both occasionally muttering your name so beautifully in between pants.

Both their cocks inside of you pulsated heavily, indicating that they were about to cum— and they were going to cum inside you. “F-Fuck, you’re so tight. I-I’m going to cum,” your boyfriend grunted against your ear, feeling how your walls tightened even more firmly around his shaft, placing sloppy kisses all across your neck with his hot breath hitting against your skin. A knot formed inside your own stomach, aching for release, as well as a tighteing fiery feeling in your chest.

Some seconds had passed, with the increasing sound of the moans, praises, and the intensity in which they fucked your mouth and pussy, having you nearly melting between them. And as expected, it didn’t take long until all of you simultaneously came. Your boyfriend firmly pushed himself against you, burying his cock as deep as possible, releasing his own hot seed into your moist inner walls.

The other older Argentine kept your had as still as possible with his hand holding the back of your head, groaning loudly as you felt the warmth of his cum filling your mouth. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t doubt in proudly swallowing all the hot, salty seed— even having slightly pulled apart briefly after he came, with some drops of his cum staining your lips, and chin. You released a muffled groan, feeling their cum filling both your holes, and your own cum being pleasantly released; dripping through your inner thighs, and leaving Fran’s shaft all stained with your slick.

For some seconds after all of you released at the same time, you stood still. Leaving another trail of saliva behind, you pulled apart from Kuku’s cock, catching some air to breathe; panting heavily as your entire body shook with the pleasure that washed over you. While your hand let go of his shaft, with a wet pop, Fran slipped outside of you. It made your insides feel empty, and cold— yet, the feeling of his cum and your own oozing out of your pussy felt satisfying; and it was a sight he always admired for a few seconds with pride.

Weakly, you crawled towards Kuku, whose chest rose and fell continously as he panted, and fell on top of him. Fran did the same as you did, but instead, he gently laid on top of you. His arms were possesively wrapped around your body, placing some loving little kisses all over your shoulder blade, as Esteban placed one of his hands on your arm, and the other one sweetly stroked your hair. You were such a loving, beautiful girl— it made him feel good to know, he could share you with Fran.

Kukuriczka kissed the top of your head as you panted as well, meekly smiling and blushing to yourself while both men filled you with pampering little kisses. “T-This was rather fun, I liked it.” you muttered, as you could feel Fran smiling at your remark while he kept kissing your shoulders, and Kukuriczka grinned as well. “We should do this more often, all of us together.” you continued.

“We should, and we will.” Fran retorted, tracing a mindless shape on your arm with the tip of his finger. “Unless... You are both up for a second round, instead of waiting until next time?”

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` honourary tags to my darling beloveds.ᐟ

To my sweet love @lady-ashfade, for having accepted to be my beta reader despite not crushing on the actors, nor being part of the fandom. For your constant sweetness, tenderness, how you fangirl along me about my favourite boys (and I with yours!), and for your words of encouragement too. I love you so much, baby!! Thank you for everything we allow to share with each other! 🥺💗

And as well, to my most beloved sweet girls, @luceracastro + @castawaycherry!! You both also encouraged me to write this fic, and always support me on each work I do, and each idea I have for our boys— and also, you girls are both the loveliest, most positive people ever. Me siento tan afortunada de haberlas conocido, gracias por todo el cariño que me dan, y espero devolverles todo ese amor 1000 veces más!! 🥰❤

#彡 ꒰ ✒ amira writes ; francisco romero.── ꒱#彡 ꒰ ✒ amira writes ; esteban kukuriczka.── ꒱#fran romero x reader #fran romero fanfic #fran romero smut #francisco romero fanfic #esteban kukuriczka x reader #esteban kukuriczka smut #esteban kukuriczka x reader smut #esteban kukuriczka fanfic #francisco romero x reader x esteban kukuriczka #lsdln x reader #fran romero #esteban kukuriczka #francisco romero smut #francisco romero x reader

254 notes · View notes

toruro · 1 year

Text

— ✧ oh my!

pairing: xu minghao x reader

description: choosing to be roommates with vernon chwe would undeniably be one of the few life-changing decisions you made in your lifetime. he brought along support, friendship, and most importantly: a hot friend. — or, in which you’re roommates with vernon and you happen to fall for one of his many chaotic friends.

tags: smut (18+), oral (m receiving), just stupid mutual pining, fluff, seriously self indulgent, mentioned past toxic/controlling relationships

w/c: 13.6k

a/n: REPOSTED. this was my first attempt at a kpop fic ever and my first time writing smut so please bear with how awkwardly written it is. a fic that was supposed to be multiple parts but i couldn't come up with a real plot either so ummm … nevertheless i hope u enjoy!

I. OH MY!

Moving in with Vernon is among your top life changing decisions, pretty much ever.

You two met in college, first sharing a calculus class together and occasionally studying together. Your friendship was budding—he was someone you could count on and never had to second guess. Spending more time together, you naturally grew closer, eventually reaching a point that when Vernon mentioned moving out of his shitty studio, you two immediately decided to find a place together.

Fresh out of college, it was the best decision in all ways possible—money was not nearly as big of a burden as before, and it was fun having a friend to talk to whenever you wanted in the vicinity of your own home.

It’s been an enjoyable eight months since you two started renting out this place together, and this evening, you’re in the kitchen cooking some brownies with an old package of brownie mix you found shoved in the back of one of your cupboards. You’re making a bit of a mess, but you can only hope that Vernon doesn’t mind too much—you will clean it, after all.

You’re in the midst of pondering about how long it’ll take you to clean up the little (big) splatter of flour you dropped on the ground when there’s a buzzing that comes from your phone. You huff, looking down at your fingers that are coated in oil and brownie batter. Setting down the bowl you were mixing, you then go to wash your hands as the buzzing dies out. After wiping down any moisture left on your skin, you pick up the phone to see a missed call from Vernon.

Did he forget something? you wonder, pressing the call back button and holding your phone up to your ear. You hear him pick up the line almost immediately, curious to know why he called you. “Hey,” you say casually when you know he can hear you. “Everything good?”

There are a few voices in the background that you hear, and you recall how he told you this morning he’d be hanging out with his friends. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s great. Look, I was wondering if it would be okay with you if my friends came over to our place? I would’ve asked earlier but I didn’t think we would be hanging out more and…well you get it,” Vernon sighs.

Your lips make a little ‘o’ shape, nodding to yourself as if Vernon could see you right now. “Yeah of course they can come over!” you tell him.

“Are you sure?” he clarifies, and you smile at the sincerity. “It’s just—I mean like they’re probably going to stay a while?” It comes out as a question and you laugh. “Don’t laugh at me,” Vernon grumbles, “I’m just making sure because they’re probably going to stay late in the night and there’s a lot of them.”

“Yes Vernon, I know there’s a lot of them—twelve to be exact,” you retort. “Yes, I’m okay with it, it’s not like I do anything these days anyways. I’ll be fine,” you tell him honestly.

“Okay, thank you so much,” he replies, relieved. “We’ll be there in like ten minutes.”

“Ten?!” you shrieked, quickly taking in the giant mess you made around you, baffled when you think about how you’re going to clean this up.

“Yes, sorry,” Vernon murmurs. “These guys change their minds so much and—ugh—you get it. We’re already close to the apartment complex so we’re just going to come up. Is there a problem?”

You hum, looking around you. “I might’ve made a bit of a mess in the kitchen, but…but I’ll figure it out.”

Vernon laughs. “I doubt they’ll care—most of them are dogs.” You giggle at the muffled protests heard in the background before he continues. “Anyways, thank you, I owe you one. See you in five.”

Your phone beeps when he hangs up and you stand by yourself in the middle of the kitchen. “Five?” you whisper to yourself, “Fuck! He said ten! But now five? Fuck!”

You whip your head around to look at the kitchen, grimacing as you’re dawned with the realization that there is no way you’re going to clean this up before they come. It takes you around 5 seconds to debate your options, finally deciding to just give up on trying to clean up and focus on finishing the batter and getting the pan in the oven.

You set your phone back down on the counter, picking up the batter bowl and giving it a few more stirs to rid it of any clumps before spreading it all out on a pan. It takes you a few moments to find the mittens and stick it in the preheated oven, a wave of relief washing over you when you’re done.

That’s one thing out of the way…I guess , you think to yourself, letting your hair down from the tight up-do you had it in earlier. Looking down at your black t-shirt and yoga pants, you take a few moments to try and dust off whatever flour rubbed off on the cloth. Of course, many stains still remain, but you figured this was better than nothing.

You’re about to grab a broom to clean up the floor when you hear a knock at the door. Sighing in defeat, you wash your hands once before heading to the door. You’re placing your hand on the door knob before you hear some clicking, hesitating to open once you realize it’s Vernon on the other end unlocking it himself. You step back from the doorway as the door is pushed slightly ajar, allowing you to poke your head through the small gap.

You’re met with the sight of multiple guys crowding around the door, a slightly frantic and honestly exhausted-looking Vernon leading the group. “Hey,” he greets as you step back once more, pulling the door open fully.

“That was less than five minutes!” you exclaim, trying your best to ignore the gazes of the unfamiliar faces behind Vernon. You’ve seen pictures of them before on Vernon’s social media and stuff but you don’t really know them at all—you’re only aware of bits and pieces from the stories he tells you occasionally.

“I’m sorry!” he puts his hands up in surrender, stepping through the doorway as you back into the kitchen that remained in the chaotic state you left it in.

“I didn’t have time to clean!” you whine, frantically waving your hand at the kitchen, allowing Vernon to take in the scene.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a new voice pops in and you see a hand snake it’s way around Vernon’s shoulders. A man with blonde hair and a chiseled face looks at you sympathetically. “It’s not Vernon’s fault,” he tells you calmly. “You can blame it on us for changing plans quickly. Don’t worry, Vernon feels bad about it, he told us.”

You sigh, a small pout making its way onto your face. “Fine,” you huff as the rest of the boys fill the large room that contains the kitchen and living room. You aren’t sure what to do now, watching them all shuffle around, taking off their shoes and attempting (key word: attempting ) to organize them in front of the doorway. You hadn’t really thought this far ahead—should you go to your room now? Would it be awkward to just hang around here while they’re in the living room (your kitchen and living room are basically one large room, so there’s no real way to avoid them)?

You’re glad Vernon picks up on your uncertainty. He turns to his friends, speaking up and saying your name, which catches you by surprise. “My roommate,” he clarifies, as they all look at you. You smile awkwardly, giving a small wave before averting your gaze. Vernon then turns around, pointing at the couch across the room, “Now can one of you set up the Mario Kart?”

The rest of the boys nod, beginning to break out into small conversations by themselves as they all make their way to lounge in the connected room, finally giving you a bit of space to breathe (not that they were making you uncomfortable or anything—you’re just a little shy).

“I’m sorry again,” Vernon tells you, and you can hear the genuinity in his voice. “What were you making, by the way?” he asks curiously, peering over at the mess.

“It’s okay! And I was making brownies—I found some old box mixes in the back of the cupboard and I figured I should make them before they expire,” you explain, looking over at his friends who have now settled in the living room comfortably. “Do your friends want some? I’ve made a big enough batch for everyone, I’m sure,” you tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Vernon can you stop asking me if I’m sure,” you complain loudly, running a hand over your face. You hear a snicker come from the other side of a room, catching sight of one of Vernon’s friends seated on ground, a playful smirk on his face upon hearing your conversation. You feel your ears burn, quickly turning back to Vernon. “Yes, I just made them for fun. It’s better to share with them than have us eat all of it,” you chuckle, picking up a dustpan from the corner of the kitchen to begin cleaning up.

“Okay fine,” Vernon murmurs. “Thank you a lot,” he concludes, finally turning and joining friends on the couch. You begin your work to clean up the flour you dropped on the ground, getting lost in your own little world after slipping in your airpods, tuning out the noises of rowdy men and Mario Kart sound effects.

You’re practically done with cleaning the kitchen when you hear your timer go off, nearly skipping to the oven to turn it off and pull out the pan of brownies you’ve been putting so much effort into. The aroma floats through the room, and you catch the glances of a few of Vernon’s friends who peek over, trying to get a look at whatever you’ve come up with.

You smile to yourself, placing the pan on the counter before pulling out a knife to make nice, even pieces. It takes you a few moments, but once you’re done, you look down at them happily. Slipping on your mittens, you carry the tray over to the living room, a small, upwards curve pulling at your lips.

The boy you remember from earlier—the one who laughed at your reaction to Vernon—notices you first, and you can’t help but wonder how you didn;t recognize him from any pictures because holy hell he’s pretty. His eyes are looking at you through heavy eyelashes and there’s a coy smile tugging at his lips—he’s charming .

It takes you a good five seconds to realize you’re staring at him and another five to realize he’s caught you in the act. You whip your head away, looking at the rest of the boys, some of which who are intently focused on the game on the screen, others of which who are indifferent.

“Um, I made some brownies, if you guys want,” you tell them all, clearing your throat. “They’re fresh, so they’re a little hot, but you can wait for them to cool down.” You set down the pan on the table as the rest of them quiet down, some immediately spewing out words of gratitude.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” one of them asks, and you recognize him as the tallest. Mingyu? You recall some stories about him.

You shrug. “I kind of just made it because we had the boxes left…I think it’d be better if you guys shared it.”

Another boy with glasses sitting on the armchair speaks up. “You can eat it with us—our way of saying thanks,” he encourages. You throw out a close lipped smile, glancing at Vernon as if to ask if this was all just a show of politeness or an actual offer. He offers the slightest nod, and your once tight smile is let loose. You nod your head cheerfully, looking around you to find a spot to sit.

Noticing your confusion, the boy with the blonde hair and sharp face from earlier points to your right. “Sit next to Minghao, I’m sure there’s room there.”

You look down, met with the gaze of him , trying your best to hide your twinge of excitement as you silently shuffle over and sit down at the edge of the rug. Minghao . You like that name, you say to yourself in your head before shaking your head lightly—what are you thinking? You can’t be crushing on a guy you just laid your eyes on!

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the screen, grateful to see everyone else’s attention has also averted to the heated one-on-one match between the glasses guy from earlier (you now have learned his name is Wonwoo) and Mingyu.

They’re a loud bunch, but you can’t find it in you to mind—watching them all get along so well, so freely, is liberating in itself. You feel relaxed in a way you didn’t know you could be.

As content as you feel right now though, there’s an anxious thought buzzing at the back of your mind, and no matter how desperately you try to push it back, it keeps crawling its way up, especially when you feel your thigh brush Minghao’s .

Stop it , you chide yourself. Stop it! A little more harshly. Stop thinking about him!

“Hey…” the first time he says it, the words don’t quite reach your ears. “Hey,” he says again, nudging your thigh with his knee, increasing the minimal physical contact you two already had. You’re snapping out of your daze in an instant, whipping your head up to look at him . “You good?” he asks, and while you can tell he’s being sincere, there’s an almost playful smirk gracing his lips.

“Huh…oh, yeah,” you murmur, bashful that he caught you lost in your own head, thinking about him. “Just zoned out for a second,” you explain with an awkward laugh, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your chin on your knees.

“I could tell,” Minghao replies, and you can’t help but gaze at how cool he is as he reaches toward the coffee table, cutting himself a piece of the brownie. You watch him carefully as he takes a bite—you’re honestly just admiring his face, but you think you can brush off your shameless ogling as looking to see if he likes the brownie. He catches you staring, and you’re unsure of what he thinks of it, opening his mouth to talk again once he’s swallowed it. “It’s good,” he tells you, and you smile.

“I’m glad…it would have been kind of embarrassing if it wasn’t.”

“Don’t worry—chocolate isn’t even really my thing but I like it,” Minghao compliments, and you can’t tell if he’s being genuine or faux out of sincerity. Your grin brightens nevertheless as you sink back into the front of the sofa behind you, averting your gaze to the screen once again.

You’re feeling a little shy, of course, and the silence that now sits between you and Minghao isn’t uncomfortable or awkward, rather it’s…heart-warming. Your smile doesn’t leave your face as the room is full of cries and laughter and taunts as the results of the first round are revealed.

You sit in an amused silence, watching them for around another twenty minutes and even getting to play once (albeit your minimal effort—Mario Kart always gives you a headache anyways), before quietly standing up as the boys are cheering over Wonwoo winning yet another match. Minghao looks at you as you raise yourself above him, and your stomach churns at the way he raised a brow.

“Leaving already?”

You shrug casually. “I think it’s about time I get to doing my own stuff,” you explain, throwing out a small smile before retreating to your room before Minghao—or anyone else—can notice or say anything. You’re grateful Minghao didn’t make a scene about you leaving—it’s not that you don’t like the boys (far from it), but you’ve been tired the whole day and were looking forward to a nice nap.

Settling into your bed after shutting your blinds, you pull the covers up to your chin shooting a quick text to Vernon to make sure he wakes you up for dinner if you didn’t wake yourself up in time. You shut your eyes tight, doing your best to ignore the tight feeling that settles at the bottom of your stomach.

The second you identify the feeling, you squeeze your eyes closed tighter. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Your words don’t aid you, of course, because all you’re thinking about his stupid fucking Minghao and his stupidly hot face and his stupidly cute smirk and the stupidly handsome way he looks at you and— oh my god you need to turn your brain off right now.

You settle on not breathing, trying to pretend you’re dead, in hopes it’ll lull you to sleep. Of course, the effect is the opposite of your intentions—the lack of oxygen only reminds you of the way Minghao took your breath away when you first noticed him.

You huff to yourself, rolling your body over so your face is pressed into the pillow as you quietly curse to yourself. “God, I’m so fucked,” you whine, childishly pounding your fists against the plush of your mattress.

You’re being immature, you know you are—like a child throwing a tantrum—but who can blame you? He’s just so pretty and that smile of his is so endearing and you can’t help but find yourself so falling for him.

It’s a miracle that you fall asleep at all, let alone so quickly. You figure the exhaustion from the past week has finally caught up to you, even with the onslaught of attraction that came your way after seeing Minghao.

When you wake up, it’s much darker. The sun hasn’t fully set yet, but the sky is painted a deep red which is bound to morph to purple within a few more moments before finally sinking into nighttime. You glance around and you realize that the only thing besides the outside light that’s illuminating your room is your bed lamp that you forgot to turn off.

You rub your eyes a few times, still in a bit of a groggy, drowsy daze, before remembering what woke you up in the first place—the knock on your door. “Hello?” you croak out, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth at the mangles sound that leaves your mouth. It’s quiet for a moment and you’re able to identify the faint voices in the rest of the apartment as Vernon’s friends.

Your mind is suddenly racing through the possibility of who could’ve knocked on your door and— oh my god! What if it’s Minghao?! What if he heard y—

You hear your name being called out softly and your speeding train of thought falters. It’s Vernon. Thank fucking god. “You up?” he says through the door and you pull the covers off of you to meet him at the door. Poking your head through the crack as you open it slightly, you squint immediately at the intrusion of light to your unadjusted eyes.

“Good morning,” you joke, stepping back to let him in. “Thanks for waking me up…jeez, I was knocked out,” you murmur to yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you walk to your dresser to find yourself a comb. “What time is it?”

“It’s like six…the guys were worried that they were being too loud when I told them you were sleeping,” Vernon muses, pulling up his phone to scroll through something. “But I was like nah she sleeps through everything—and I was right,” he says with a laugh as you roll your eyes, trying to make yourself more presentable as you pull your hair back into a low do.

“Whatever…did you guys have fun? I’m assuming so since they’re still here…”

“Yeah, we’re ordering dinner right now. I told you they were gonna stay for a while. That’s why I woke you up too: I was gonna ask if there was anything specific you wanted—if you wanna eat with us of course,” he explains, holding up his phone to display the food delivery app he had opened earlier.

“Would that be okay? If I had dinner with you all?”

“Yeah of course, no one would mind,” Vernon assures you as you look at yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair, narrowing your eyes at your roommate.

“You sure?”

“Okay now you need to stop asking me if I’m sure,” Vernon huffs with a roll of his eyes followed by your laughter.

“Okay okay, fine,” you reply. “Give me like two minutes I’ll come out and we can decide something with everyone,” you say, ushering Vernon out. He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around to join his friends in the other room. After he leaves, you debate with yourself whether or not you should change or join the rest with your pajama pants and loose fit t-shirt.

Overcome with the still lingering drowsiness from your nap, you choose comfort, and decide to just throw on a loose cardigan over whatever you’re wearing now before stepping out of the room. A yawn escapes your lips as you enter the living room, catching sight of all the boys lounging around—some are seated on top of the kitchen island, legs hanging over the edge, while others are laying down on the couch with their feet kicked up, the rest with their legs folded on the ground.

You try not to stare at Minghao too much when he enters your line of vision, but the task is becoming impossibly harder the longer you look: he’s laid back on the couch, feet resting on a blonde boy—Jun, you think is his name’s—lap, and you don’t miss the way his arms are crossed behind the back of his head, shirt lifting up just enough to reveal a little bit of the skin that dons his torso.

You begrudgingly peel your eyes away from the marvelous sight when you hear someone call your name, heads turning to you once they realize you’ve finally joined them.

“About time,” the boy with sharp features from earlier—Jeonghan—says as a greeting, waving you over as he stands next to Vernon. “Come on, help us decide what to order.”

“D’you sleep well?” another asks, and you turn your head to see who’s speaking as you approach Jeonghan. You recognize the boy now as Seungkwan, and you smile while nodding. “I swear me and Chan thought you were dead!” he exclaims jokingly as you furrow your eyebrows.

The boy next to him shoots Seungkwan a death stare before speaking up, much to your amusement. “What Seungkwan means is,” Chan begins with a huff, “we were playing a game and Mingyu lost and he yelled and we were scared we woke you up but nothing happened!”

“I told you, she sleeps through everything,” you hear Vernon mumble from behind you, not missing the joking look that’s toying with his face. You roll your eyes and hit his shoulder, loud enough for everyone to hear and cause them to laugh, smiling internally at the reaction you were able to elicit.

“That’s not true!” you whine, looking over his shoulder to see what restaurants they were choosing from.

“Joking, joking,” Vernon mumbles, turning his phone so you could see better. “We’re choosing between Mexican and Thai. You can choose which, since we’re all pretty evenly split.”

You hum for a second, thinking about which you’re craving more, finally settling on, “Thai!”

There are some cheers that erupt behind you, and your face heats up right away when you turn around to see some of them (Minghao in particular) with cheerful smiles and fists of victory in the air. “Thai it is!” Vernon announces. “Tell me what you guys want,” he says before looking at you. “The usual?” you nod with a grin, backing away as he places the order while the others call out the array of dishes you want, making your way to the seating area to sit down by one of the sofas (totally not because that’s where Minghao was sitting).

As you settle down onto the ground, Minghao speaks up. “Do you want to sit here?” he asks, sitting up from his horizontal position, pulling his legs back to make space between him and Jun on the couch. Your eyes shoot up, darting between Minghao’s deep brown eyes and the space on the couch.

“Are you sure? You can lay down if you w—”

“Nonsense,” Jun says with a chuckle, and you can’t even comprehend what’s going on until you feel Minghao’s cool fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you up slightly as a direct invitation to take up the spot next to him. God his skin is so soft and his touch is demanding yet so gentle and it’s just enough to get the butterflies that you thought died off to be resurrected once more. “Our way of thanks for choosing Thai,” Jun tells you.

“Yeah,” Minghao agrees, and you try your best to focus on what he’s saying even if it’s impossibly hard with the way his body is pressed up right against you. He leans back as if to stretch his body, arms reaching back behind the couch and settling in the space behind you,

God, you feel like you could die on the spot—it’s not like he’s got an arm wrapped around you or anything so why does this feel so intimate? You can only hope and pray that he doesn’t feel the immense heat radiating off of you as you adjust yourself to sit more comfortably on the couch. In hopes to diffuse the tension that you’re kind of sure you’re the only one feeling, you speak up. “Do you guys want to watch something? A show? A movie?” you suggest reaching forward to pick up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“I’m down,” Wonwoo says with a shrug.

“Oh yeah!” Seungcheol speaks up, “I’ve been wanting to rewatch Batman for a while!”

“Batman then?” you, looking around at everyone as you click the remote to pull it up after you see the nods of their heads. You put on the movie, sinking back into the couch as you do your best to focus on the screen in front of you, and not the faint touch of Minghao’s arm to the back of your neck.

You’re successful for a bit, thankfully, but your peace of mind hardly lasts when the food comes in and everyone settles on the ground to eat—your and Vernon’s rule that there’s no eating curry on the couch. You, Minghao, and Jun slip from your spots on the couch and sit on the ground where your feet lay just a few moments ago, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of the little space you three are squished up against.

It’s a miracle, you think, if Minghao doesn’t notice the way your skin burns against his as his thigh is pressing right up against yours. This touch is different from the one in the afternoon—that one was…light…innocent. This one…this one’s different—it has you burning and yet shivers run down your spine. If you were a little bit more in your senses, maybe—just maybe—you would notice the tight lipped smile that tugs at Minghao’s li ps as well.

Oh my! Now the crush begins.

II. COME TO ME

That night, after the movie, the food, and some beer, the twelve boys shuffle out of the house at around eleven, murmuring soft and tired “thank yous” and “goodbyes.” You can’t deny that you’ve been…a little stiff the entire evening. Sitting next to Minghao for a good 2 hours wore you out—it was a constant battle between your moral consciousness and your…budding feelings.

Stop looking at him! You’d say one moment, but then, god—oh my god his hands! No! Stop! He’s so close to me —stop acting like you’re in middle school! But his smile is just so pretty, god he lights up the room , but wait, stop being so cliche!

Naturally, you're convinced you’ve gone insane. Once the boys left, you and Vernon are left in the comfort of each other’s silence before beginning to make small conversation as you guys begin to clean up (the others honestly didn’t leave that much of a mess, you were just a bit of a clean freak).

“Your friends are fun,” you tell him quietly as you throw out the food containers that you finished earlier. Vernon looks up at you with a small smile, and you can tell that he’s been anxious about you not enjoying your time.

“That’s good, I’m glad.”

“Why haven’t you brought them over before?” you ask curiously, pondering about how there might have been a chance you could have laid your eyes on Minghao ages earlier. “Aren’t they like your best friends?”

Vernon shrugs. “Well yeah, they are, but there’s a lot of them, like you saw. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with that, today just happened to be a day where it was hard for me to say no to them.” You laugh heartily at that—the image of Vernon being persuaded by twelve guys looking at him with puppy eyes. “I really am glad you liked them though. If it’s okay I’d like to have them over more,” he puts out tentatively.

Of course, you perk up at that—maybe a little too noticeably. “I’d love that!” you say excitedly, before shrinking back down at how eager you sound. “I mean like, of course I won’t barge on your time with them but they’re really fun to be around and I’d like to see them more often,” you explain, placing your hands on the counter now that you’re done cleaning all the dishes. Vernon seems to catch onto something and you want to die from embarrassment with the way he’s raising a brow at you.

But if he does notice anything, he doesn’t say it, instead choosing to shrug again and trudge away from the kitchen. “That’s great. Can I have them over next Saturday?”

You blink once then blink twice. “Of course,” you reply without a second of hesitation.

Saturday can't come soon enough. With your own work to do, you find your mind drifting constantly to the face of a pretty man who you can't seem to stop thinking about. You need to scold yourself every single time you realize you're daydreaming—god no, more like fantasizing—about a man who you've not only seen only once, but is one of your roommate's best friends.

Daunting as it is, you're finding this whole situation quite...fun. You can't remember the last time you've felt something so pure and rejuvenating as this crush—gosh, you feel childish for calling it that but what else can it be? Your heart palpates when you think about him, your eyes ache to see his beautiful face again, and holy hell you don't even want to get started on the raw goosebumps you get when reimagining the moment where his skin brushed up against yours.

It's Friday night now, and your stomach swims with anticipation of what tomorrow will hold. You're sitting on the couch in your living room when Vernon comes home from the gym, dropping a bag of food on the kitchen counter. "Hey, I was at the gym with Mingyu and he got me some leftovers that his mom made," he tells you as you look up at him.

"Oh sweet," you say, relieved you won't have to go through the effort of figuring out what to make for dinner. "Your friends are coming over tomorrow, right?" you ask, feigning nonchalance—fucking acting like tomorrow hasn't been the only thing on your mind for the past one week.

"Yeah, they're gonna come up pretty early actually. I was gonna ask you actually, if you wanted to come with us since we're planning on going to the beach later. It's gonna be pretty hot and we haven't gone down in a while," he explains, beginning to open the bag of food as you get up and join him, trying to ignore the endless thoughts that run through your mind.

"The beach? Of course I'd want to come—wait, would that be okay with them? I wouldn't wanna intrude in on your day."

Vernon shakes his head with a chuckle. "Oh my god can you stop?" he says jokingly, "they were the one's who suggested, actually. Not that I don't want you to come either—I do—I just want you to know that they enjoyed you being there last week just as much as you did."

"Really? Who suggested it?" You hope you aren't coming off as too curious—Vernon is perceptive, and you'd be a fool to think he couldn't figure out exactly why you're so insistent on figuring out who asked for you to be there.

He seems preoccupied though, taking the food out of the containers, much to your relief. "Uhh, it was Minghao I think. But like everyone agreed after that, Jeonghan even said he'd pay for your ice cream if you came."

You're convinced the universe is bullshitting you right now. Minghao? Your Minghao? Asked if you could join them? At the beach?

You might just pass out.

Naturally, Vernon looks at you funny. "Are you good? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

You shake your head nervously with a smile, turning back to grab a piece of fried chicken he pulled out. "No no, I was just thinking about if I even have any swim suits—I think I threw them out last summer because of Jungho," you murmur, and while it's not the full truth about what you were just thinking about, it is something that's on your mind. Vernon looks at you with a frown.

"You threw them out because of Jungho?" he asks sadly. "Fucking hell, I forgot how crazy he was," he murmurs, looking down to take his own bite of the food. You shrug solemnly, finding yourself in a mood a bit more down than you'd like.

"Weird times," you reply simply. "Think I could just go to the beach in like some shorts and a shirt? It's just water after all."

"Yeah that should be fine. We'd be leaving before noon so I don't think you'd have the time to buy new ones anyways," Vernon agrees, pushing himself off the counter.

You nod with a smile, ignoring the small pang of sadness you felt just moments ago. "Sounds good."

You're a heavy sleeper—you always have been—and given that it's a Saturday, it's no question that you're bound to sleep until Vernon is banging your door to make sure you aren't dead. Seriously. Saturday morning, despite your excitement, kicks off with a groggy start. You're rolling around in bed, ming hazy as you aimlessly try and figure out what time it is and what exactly woke you up since you know you don't set alarms for weekends. It takes a few seconds for the knocking on your door to register in your brain.

You blink once and rub your eyes, squinting so that they can adjust to the light as you peer at the clock, realizing that—shit, oh shit, it's almost 11. Didn't Vernon say that his friends were going to be here in the morning?! And that they were gonna leave before noon?! Shit!

You're scrambling out of bed, digging through your drawer as you call out a meek, "I'n up!" to whoever's knocking on your door, throwing on the only swim suit that you—thankfully—found tucked away in your closet the night before, covering it up with some shorts and a loose top that you picked earlier as well. You're quickly faced with realization that you still look like you just rolled out of bed which, to be fair, you had. That doesn't stop you from frantically brushing through your hair, trying to put it into a simple braid before finally feeling ready to open the door.

You're expecting to see Vernon, in all honesty, since that's how it went the last time they were all over. The man standing in front of your door is, in fact, definitely not Vernon. No, the man in front of your door is Xu fucking Minghao, and you think you're absolutely fucked by the way your knees go week.

"Hi, sorry, I hope I didn't rush you," he greets politely, stepping back, allowing you to take a good look at him. He's wearing a white sleeveless shirt that hugs hugs his body tightly, followed by a blue hawaiian shirt that sits loosely on his upper half. His lower half is adorned by simple swim trunks, and you do your very, very best to not stare at his calf muscles.

"I, uh..." your voice trails off, in a haze from how attractive he is as well from your fading drowsiness. You rub your eyes once under your glasses before responding. "It's okay, I don't know why I didn't get up earlier," you huff to yourself, looking down, "I thought I would."

"Don't worry about it," Minghao murmurs, and he brings a hand up to your head on top of your hair to ruffle it a bit. You might just scream. "It's good that you slept," he continues, walking back to the living room as you follow him. "We thought you'd wake up from how loud we were," he says with a chuckle as you enter the room with everyone else in it as they turn to you.

"Yeah," Seokmin agrees through a mouth full of muffin, Joshua lightly hitting his shoulder and chiding him for talking with his mouth full.

"She's awake!" Jeonghan cheers playfully.

"i know Vernon said you'd sleep through anything," Chan begins to admit, "but literally do not understand how you didn't wake up until now. I swear, there was a moment where Soonyoung was just screaming at the top of his lungs and we were all wondering if that was gonna get you to come out but Vernon didn't even bother to check."

Your face burns at the comment, but there's a warm sort of feeling that bubbles up in you when they all laugh—it's not a mean laugh, no, it's friendly and it's kind, and it's making you feel welcome.

"You guys just don't listen to me," Vernon huffs, tossing you an orange from the kitchen. "We're going to head out in like five minutes," he tells you. "We need to figure out the car situation because I think Wont's car and Joshua's can only five each and mine can hold four."

The next few minutes are spent trying to figure out who's going to go in which car, everyone deciding that Seungcheol, Seokmin, Chan, and Jun would be going in Wonwoo's, Jeonghan, Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Minghao would be going in Joshua's, and Mingyu, Seungkwan, and you would be going in Vernon's. You won't and say that you aren't a teensy bit disappointed that you don't get to sit with Minghao, but the beach is only a twenty minute's drive away anyways, and you feel this is also a chance to get to know Vernon's other friends better too.

The car ride is fun, and you enjoy Seungkwan's cheeky remarks to everything, laughing along to pretty much everything he says, as well as Mingyu's oddly calm hyperness...? You aren't sure how to explain it but there's a constantly endearing and jumpy aura radiating from the tall boy, yet he seems quite tame for the most part. Nevertheless, you're entertained and excited to spend more time with them as Vernon parks the car on the beach, pulling out his phone so he can figure out where the other's are.

"Ah" you murmur, as the fourteen of you are grouped up finally, making your way into the hot sand and towards the water. "This is like the perfect weather for the beach," you say, wiggling out of your slippers so you can walk on the sand with your bare feet. Seungkwan is standing next to you as you both trail behind the rest of the crowd a little, the both of you immersed in the warm feeling of sand between your toes.

"I love the beach," he says, throwing his head back to look up at the bright side. "I'm from a beach town, so when I found out that the beach—and all my friends—were here, I just had to move here too, you know?"

"The beach is nice, but I won't lie, it always makes me so exhausted after I spend a day out here," you admit, dragging your feet across the sand, basking in the hot feeling it brings. "Who knows, I'll probably go home and sleep so hard tonight that even Vernon might think I'm dead," you joke, causing Seungkwan to chuckle.

You two continue to talk about the beach and Seungkwan's home town as your group nears the water, everyone beginning to set up their towels and the picnic blankets you bought. Everyone helps out, and before you know it, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Seokmin, and Seungkwan are ripping off their shirts and running towards the water. You watch them with amusement, standing up to shimmy out of your shorts and shirt.

Vernon looks at you, speaking, "You were able to get a swim suit?" he asks, confused considering your conversation with him last night. You smile somewhat sadly, and Minghao, sitting next to Vernon, can't help but notice.

"Uh, not really," you mumble, looking down at your black bikini. "I think Jungho just never knew about this one so I didn't get rid of it, and it was just shoved in the back of my closet or something. Anyways, I'm burning and I really want to get into the water," you conclude, turning around without giving Vernon a chance to respond.

As you run off into the water, Minghao turns and looks at Vernon him. "Who's Jungho?" he asks, shameless about his curiosity.

Vernon frowns as soon as he hears the name, and Minghao wonders just what kind of person this Jungho guy might be. "Just some ex. A really shitty one," Vernon murmurs, looking out at the sun. Minghao feels something uneasy churn inside of him. He gives Vernon that look, which tells him he wants to know more. "Like he just sucked. Didn't treat her right and shit. I didn't like him at all. None of her friends did. He tried to get her to throw out all of her swim suits and stuff because he didn't trust her at the beach or some bullshit like that."

"Goddamn," Minghao hisses, leaning back on his hands as he watches you play in the water. You looked like you were having so much fun—you were so at ease. He wants to chide himself for looking at the way your skin glistens in the sun, your bikini hugging your body in all the right places and in all the right ways. He knows he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, especially when he's only just met you a week ago, but that isn't to say he hasn't missed your quick glances. The way your eyes dart towards him, his body, his eyes, his lips, and quickly jump away when you realize he's caught you.

You feel the same way, he's sure of it. Minghao knows you feel the same tingles, the same sparks, the same rush of pure happiness when you see each other.

His thoughts are interrupted by Joshua speaking. "He made her throw out her swim suits?" he exclaims incredulously. "Insecure much," he mutters under his breath, and Minghao laughs along with that. "Good thing he's just her ex now—that sounds horrendous."

"Agreed," Minghao replies while Vernon nods, standing up to pull off his hawaiian shirt and top. "I'm gonna go into the water," he tells the rest of his friends before jogging lightly, following in your faint footsteps.

You're feet hit the water, and you stop in your tracks as you take a few moments to get used to the temperature change. You're looking up to see Seungkwan and Jeonghan waving you over to around twenty feet further into the water, but you call out to them to tell them to wait a second as you just melt in the feeling of the water against your toes. You stand there for a few moments before you hear a familiar voice coming up from behind you.

Oh. My. God.

You don't even want to turn around because you're scared of your reaction to seeing him shirtless—god, you aren't even sure if you'll be able to contain yourself! You think if you pass out, you'll just have to blame it on the heat, but still, how are you going to be—

"Hey," Minghao says cooly, stepping next to you in the water and holy crap, he's toned and he's practically glowing in the sunlight, the shadows hugging every peak and curve of his chest, his arms, his hands, his collarbone, his v-line—oh my god you need to stop. Practically ripping your eyes away from the wondrous view that is Minghao's body, you're forcing yourself to look up at his eyes (not that it's any less of a view—his eyes sparkle just as much as he does).

"H-hi." Did you just stutter? No fucking way you just stuttered. You think you might have to drown yourself right now. "I thought you were going to stay around with the others a bit longer," you say sheepishly. Minghao smirks at you, and he thinks now is his chance to try and fluster you up a bit more.

"Well I can't just let a pretty girl go into the ocean by herself, now can I?" he replies smoothly, taking a few steps in front of and waving you to follow him, and you would only if you hadn't just stopped breathing. How could he say that so casually!? How could he—wait. Wait! He just called you a pretty girl. He thinks you're pretty. Xu fucking Minghao finds you pretty, and he's saying it to your fucking face. You actually might die right now.

You can't even formulate a response, just tearing your gaze away from him and smiling shamelessly at the ground as you follow behind him slowly. Mission accomplished, Minghao thinks to himself, and something inside of him goes batshit crazy by seeing you so smiley and undone.

"W-whatever," you finally say as the water near to your hips as you two start nearing the others guys who are currently splashing each other with water. Minghao watches them, and get an idea, playfully splashing some water your way. You jump back quickly, eyes widening before you gasp. "You did not!" You quickly splash water back, but Minghao seems to see it coming and he moves out of the way. "Get back here!" you yell, running after him as he nears Mingyu, hiding behind the larger boy. With your eyebrows, you pay no mind to this, continuing to splash water everywhere, hoping that at least some of it will get on Minghao.

Mingyu puts his hands up, eyes scrunched up as he tries to block the water that's inevitably going his way. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Not me! Not me!" he cries out as the others laigh.

"Get Minghao!" you call out to the other boys who catch on quickly, joining you on your rampage against Minghao. Eventually there's just so much water splashing everywhere that within minutes you're all spent, gasping for air as you all try to rub the water away from your eyes. Once your vision is no longer blurry, you blink hard a few last times before turning your vision towards Minghao again and holy hell, you didn't think he could look any hotter than he did sitting in the sun but wow. His hair is wet and hanging low on his forehead but it's so messy and so hot and all you can think about is running your fingers through those locks yourself and making a mess in your own little way and—okay stop, you can't be thinking about this, especially not in public.

It takes a moment for you to fully calm yourself down before you're laughing with the other guys as they start to play a new game. You try to ignore the butterflies you get whenever you near Minghao, but it's a painfully hard task. You grow to accept the feeling as the minutes go on, simply existing alongside the bubbly feeling instead of pushing it down.

The next hour is spent in and out of the water, everyone else eventually joining those of you in the water, and you find that time is passing faster than you can even think. Time with them is fun, it's carefree, it's liberating, it's refreshing. Once you're all too tired and too spent, you're trudging back to the little spot you all have set up as everyone begins to pull out the food they packed. As you snack on your lunch, the fourteen of you sit in a circle and talk about the plans for the rest of the day.

"Let's play beach volleyball," Wonwoo suggests after everyone's finished eating, and it's no doubt that everyone else pretty much agrees immediately.

"Yeah, I saw a court in that direction, and I'm sure we'd be able to find a ball," Jihoon adds on as everyone stands up.

"I think i'll stay behind," you tell them all, leaning back on your hand as you fan your face with the other. "I'm kind of tired and I think I just need to sit down for a bit," you explain.

"That's okay, but you sure you won't be lonely," Vernon clarifies as he stands up.

You shake your head, but right before you're going to respond, Minghao speaks up. "Don't worry about her, I'll stay behind too." God, someone save you—your poor heart can't take much more of this.

"Oh okay, great!" Joshua says happily, the others standing up as well to go follow Jihoon to the volleyball court. "Catch you later!" You and Minghao wave at the rest as the drift off into the distance before being left in the silence that sits between you.

Minghao speaks first. "It's nice that you came, it's refreshing to have someone new, especially if they're like you."

You raise a brow at him, turning your body so that you're completely facing him, legs crossed as you lean forward. "Like me? What does that mean?"

Minghao gives you a sly smile, like he was expecting this. "Fun. Easy-going." He pauses. "Pretty."

"Is this your way of flirting or do you just enjoy being very direct about what you're thinking."

He laughs at that, throwing his head back. "Nice one. Those two are actually the same thing for me, so take that as you see it," he says with a shrug. You're face is on fire, and you're sure he can tell by now. Minghao catches on and he leans forward. "Is it working?"

"Maybe it is," you murmur nonchalantly.

"I think it definitely is," he shoots back with yet another smirk. God, you can't do this anymore. He's just so close to you and you don't know if it's because it's hot or if you're flustered or whatever but you're burning and not thinking straight and before you know it you're leaning in so close that you can feel Minghao's soft breath on your lips, stopping right before you two can connect.

It's the silent words now: kiss me, kiss me Minghao, and you almost think that this is true love when he leans in immediately after, heeding your silent requests.

Minghao's lips are plump and soft and taste slightly salty from the remains of the ocean water, in contrast to the sweet way he's got one hand cupping your chin. His thumb strokes at your skin and the touch is so light that you think you might go insane, gripping onto one of his biceps as you try to ground yourself in reality—in this moment, that you're scared might almost just be a figment of your imagination.

News-flash, it's not. In fact, this moment is very much real, very much happening, and very much one of the closest things to heaven you've experienced.

When you pull away, his hand is still on your chin and yours still rests on his arm. "I won't lie," you whisper, "I've been thinking about doing that all week."

"Me too," Minghao admits almost immediately, the revelation sending both shock and relief coursing through your veins. You let go of his arm, finally, and he drops his hold too, but you scoot closer to him so you're not sitting side by side as you face the ocean. "We shouldn't do anything else right now," he says quietly, and you know he doesn't have to say to know what you're both thinking. "I don't think you'd want the others seeing anything."

"You're right," you say with a nod, but you still interlace his fingers that are next to you with yours on the ground. Minghao squeezes your fingers back slightly in confirmation that this is very much okay. "Do you want to get something to eat? I saw some people selling fruit on our walk through the sand," he suggests after a few moments. You nod along, shuffling through the pile of clothes that are everywhere so you can find your shorts—it's sp warm out right now that your skin and swim suit have already dried off.

While you're fishing out your shorts and slipping them on, Minghao finds his hawaiian t-shirt and slips it on, although his bare chest is still very much on display, despite your poor heart's cries for him to cover it up—no! Don't let anyone else see! You blush bashfully at your newfound jealousy of others seeing Minghao the same way you do, but those thoughts are soon pushed away as he reaches out a hand to you to help you stand up. You grab his hand with a smile, following after him as you both head toward the fruit stands at the front.

"What do you want to get?" he asks you when he sees you squinting to try and see what they're selling.

"Pineapple!" you cheer when you realize one of the stands has your favorite fruit, and Minghao can feel his heart swell at the sound. "Can we please get pineapple? It's my favorite fruit and it's the best for hot days."

Minghao smiles and nods, and your heart nearly pops out of your chest. "Pineapple and mango?" he suggests as you stand in front of one of the stalls, pulling out his wallet. You nod before thinking for a moment, pulling out your own wallet before he has a hand a hand on your waist, pushing it away. "I'm paying," and it's not a question when he says it. You slowly push your wallet back into your pocket, mind racing with the thoughts of how a man can be as perfect as Minghao.

"Okay well," you reply, pulling your wallet back out in defiance, "I want to buy some fruits for the others too," you explain. "And I don't think it's fair for you to pay for all of that."

Minghao huffs, letting go of your wrist before turning back to guy at the stall. You two end up splitting the cost of five cups of fruits before returning to the set up on the sand that you have with your arms much fuller than before. Back once you're both sitting, you chat about whatever and you definitely forget how to breathe the multiple times that Minghao picks up a toothpick and feeds you the fruits himself. There's something so domestic and so comforting about the way you both smoothly speak, move, flow—being with Minghao is languid and despite your racing heart at the thought of being with him, you feel...relaxed.

This feels right.

After around an half an hour of talking, you find yourself laying on your back as you have Vernon's hat on top of your head as you listen to the ocean. "Should we go to find them? They'll probably be hungry by now and beach volleyball is starting to sound fun," you say, sitting up and readjusting Vernon's cap on your head.

"Bored of me already?" Minghao teases, sitting up as well, readjusting his shirt.

You roll your eyes. "You know that isn't it. The fruit isn't gonna taste as good later, even if we keep it in the cooler. It tastes better fresh," you reason.

"Fine fine," he murmurs in defeat and you grin, getting up to pick up two of the cups of fruit while Minghao grabs the other two.

"You know where they went?" you ask him, looking to your left and right, trying to recall which direction the boys left in.

"This way I think," Minghao says, pointing to your left and you squint, nodding excitedly when you see some volleyball courts in the far distance.

"Wow, that's pretty far," you think out loud as you both start walking in that direction.

"Can't handle it?" he coos, looking down at you as he takes his effortlessly long strides.

You scoff, turning your head away as you feign nonchalance. "Whatever."

"I'm joking," Minghao says quickly, reaching one hand over to pick up the cups of fruit your holding so that he's holding all four now. You're about to protest but he simply turns his arms away from you so they're out of your reach.

"Thank you," you say sheepishly, holding your hands behind your back as you two begin to speed up your pace when you both realize that the fruit will grow warm soon. It takes around seven to eight minutes for you guys to reach the volleyball courts, calling out to Vernon when you reach hearing range. "We brought fruit!" you yell, pointing at the cups that Minghao graciously carried for you.

The boys run over, almost all of them in a panting, sweating mess.

"It's like you read our minds," Seungcheol tells you and Minghao, picking a strawberry and stuffing it into his mouth.

Seokmin nods along, picking up a piece of mango. "We were just talking about how we're already hungry again."

"Yeah," Chan agrees, "and I think Mingyu was gonna pass out in the next five minutes if you didn't bring him something to eat." You all look at Mingyu who's sitting across from you, legs out and upper body leaning on his arms behind him as his face is scrunched up—he nearly looks like he's dying.

"Fuck you all!" he groans, falling back onto the sand. "I swear, Jun and Cheol were targeting me! They kept hitting the ball in my direction!"

Jun laughs at that, throwing a hand up to Seungcheol for a high-five. "Damn, I didn't think you'd catch on."

"How could I not!?" Mingyu whines, sitting up again to pick up another fruit. "I was on the verge of the death because of you guys."

Jeonghan ticks his tongue as everyone laughs, "Ah, don't be so dramatic Gyu, we were just having fun. Plus, who doesn't want to win."

Mingyu grumbles as he kicks some sand Jeonghan's way as everyone retreats back into the normal conversation of the plans next. After a few moments of discussion, you all decide to go back to your set up and stay there until sunset before heading home.

Once you all make your way back, the hours are spent chatting, building a moat (Mingyu and Chan seemed especially interested in this for some reason), and playing in and out of the water. As the sky begins to merge from blue to yellow to a deep orange, you begin cleaning up. At the moment, you aren't sure who brings it up, but the word "sleepover" gets thrown around and everyone is practically on their knees, asking to sleep over at Vernon and your place.

"Why our place?" Vernon complains. "Why not Minghao and Jun's? Or Joshua and Jeonghan's?" he begins throwing out the other's names.

"Because we like yours the most," Joshua says simply, everyone nodding their heads vigorously in agreement. Vernon huffs and looks at you for help, but you only shrug—you aren't sure how to respond to this and you aren't going to pretend like you aren't a teensy bit excited about the chance of Minghao spending the night (even though there'll be 12 other guys in your home).

"You guys owe us," Vernon finally says with a deep sigh, "big time."

The car ride back begins by Vernon, Joshua, and Wonwoo yelling at all of the passengers to not get sand into the car, and while you all desperately try to heed by their wishes, it's nearly impossible. You should've expected that nothing with this group is ever especially peaceful, but you're pleasantly surprised by how every event with them somehow has you bursting into laughter until your stomach hurts.

When you all return to your apartment, it takes a messy, chaotic hour or two for everyone to sort out when they would be taking showers, realizing that you should have planned this better once you knew that fourteen people would be scrambling to try and use your and Vernon's single shower. Once you're all washed up, you're left sitting in the living room, trying to figure out how you're going to pass the next few hours. Of course, one brings up Mario Kart, and suddenly they all perch against the couch trying to see who can beat Wonwoo.

It's now when you start to feel the exhaustion of the day catch up to you, recalling how you told Seungkwan that beach days make you tired. You excuse yourself to your room, locking the door behind you before slipping under the covers and nuzzling against the pillow.

In the silence—well not really silence, since apartment walls are thin and boys are loud, but still—of your own room, you find yourself catching a moment for you to properly think. And then it all comes crashing onto you.

Minghao. His lips, his eyes, his arms, his hands, his fingers, his lips (yes, his lips again), his touch, his gaze—and holy hell do you need more. You almost whine out loud into the sheets at the thought of having to wait for him any longer, your brain fuzzy from both your exhaustion and the tingling feeling that courses through your nerves.

Your mind races through the endless possibilities of what has happened and what can happen and before you know it you're falling asleep.

It's two hours later at around 8pm when you hear your phone buzzing by your chest, hardly lifting your head to see who it is. When you recognize the caller as Vernon, you hit the answer button, putting minimal effort into lifting the phone up to your ear as you grumble.

"God, do you ever stop sleeping?" he huffs on the other end, and you can faintly hear someone in the background laugh. You rub your eyes as you push yourself out of bed, rummaging through your drawer to pick out a cardigan to throw on.

"Sorry," you grumble with a yawn. "Beach days make me tired."

"I can see that. Anyways, we're in the living room ordering takeout, so hurry up if you want to have your choice," he threatens playfully.

"Alright alright," you mumble, trying to make your bed a little neater before leaving your room and heading towards the living room. They're all there, as expected, some movie playing on the TV as Jihoon is playing something on the guitar (where the hell did he get a guitar from?!) and Wonwoo and Mingyu are playing yet another game of Mario Kart on the Switch tablet.

"And she's here!" Chan exclaims, causing some eyes to turn to you. Minghao, sitting on one of the chairs at the kitchen island turns to you quickly, and the eye contact has you turning into mush immediately.

"When you went to your room," Vernon begins to say, distracting you from your thoughts and placing a hand on your shoulder, "I thought you were just going to chill for a bit. I didn't expect you to be napping."

Seungkwan comes in and swats Vernon's hand away from you. "You're so judgemental Sollie! Let her be!"

"Thank you Seungkwan!" you agree immediately, turning to raise an accusing eyebrow at Vernon. He rolls his eyes and steps away, holding up his phone which has the food order on the front screen.

"Hey, I'm ordering your food!"

You step back, putting your hand sup in surrender. "Okay fine! Fine! What are we getting tonight?"

"Mexican!" Jeonghan calls out. "It's my treat!" Everyone cheers as you tell Vernon your order, sitting down on the ground in the living room as everyone bunches up in the middle to begin discussing the next big problem you all have—sleeping.

It seems like no one quite thought this out earlier but your apartment is small and fitting fourteen people into this space seems near impossible, especially when you know that they'll all insist on you sleeping alone in your own room. It's a hassle to pull out all the extra pillows and bed sheets that you have, everyone trying to clear space to make as many makeshift beds on the ground as they can.

Somehow, you're all able to fit eight "beds" in the living room, Chan and Seungkwan being the lucky ones to squeeze into the extra space that Vernon has left on his bed and Jun and Jihoon calling the spots on the sofa and arm chair. From there on out, time seems to pass easily with the thirteen of them, and you're starting to understand how Vernon's been able to be their friend for so long. The hours pass quickly and by ten p.m., you're spent and tired from the day—too tired to go on.

Before you know it, you're helping them all make the final touches to the makeshift beds, bringing out as many extra comforters as you can in hopes to make sleeping on the ground a bit more comfortable. Bidding goodnight, you wave to them all and retreat to your room, but not before staring at Minghao for maybe a little too long. He stares back, of course, and anyone else would miss it, but you don't—the way he nods slightly, before turning away to say something to Jun.

III. OUR DAWN IS HOTTER THAN DAY

It's eleven when you hear the knock on your door, and it's embarrassing how quickly you scramble out of bed to open it. On the other side, as expected, is Minghao. You're pulling him in without a second of hesitation, grabbing his neck and slamming his lips onto yours hard. His hands are making their way onto his hips immediately, moving up and down along your waist and torso to feel every inch of you that he can. You've both been waiting for this for ages, and it's about time you lose control.

"Hao," you whine softly as he presses you into your wall, his tongue running against the corner of your mouth. His only response is kissing you deeper, teeth clashing as you seek to explore every last bit of each other. Minghao swears he feels his dick twitch at the way you call him by his nickname, his fingers tightening their hold on you.

"You'll drive me crazy," he murmurs, kissing down your neck as you run your hands up and down his arms to feel the curve of his arms.

"That's the—ah—plan," you grunt as you sucks at one spot on your skin. Minghao continues peppering your skin with kisses before you feel like enough his enough, intertwining your fingers in his hair and pulling his head up so he can look at you. "Can I suck you off?"

Minghao is, undeniably, taken aback by your forwardness, and while his head his telling him to take his time with you right now, his other head is telling him to give in. In any other situation with any other girl, he would be denying you, taking his time to at least finger you first but he's been too pent up and too horny since the first time you kissed him to say no.

You're surprised when he quickly nods—you aren't the type to dive right into this kind of stuff but Minghao has been doing something that's reconnecting the wires in your brain, causing the overwhelming urge to sink to your knees for Minghao to crash into you.

The second you're on your knees, you have your hands on the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down at once with his boxers to reveal his length, long and pretty and hard with a bead of pre-cum dribbling off the end. You reach up, holding the base with a hand as you look up at Minghao to meet his eyes.

"Fucking hell," he groans, throwing his head back before you reply with a hiss.

"Quiet! They can't hear," you remind him, before adjusting yourself on your knees so you're in a better position to prod his tip at the front of your mouth. You drink in the way Minghao's breath hitches as your lips wrap around him, tongue swiping at the tip softly before pulling back.

"Don't—" he takes a deep breath, "don't be a fucking tease."

"'m sorry," you mumble, pulling your head back. "Can't help it." You kind of mean it and you kind of don't. Honestly, you aren't sure what to think—all you want to do is make Minghao feel good and do it now. Minghao notices the desperate glint in your eyes, and he takes this chance to wind his fingers into your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift pony tail so he can move your face in the face that he wants. The thought has you both going down into a spiral.

Minghao looks down at you so intensely that you think you just might cum from the look alone, but then he's speaking. "You okay with this?" he asks quietly, running a thumb along your lower lip with the hand that's not holding your hair back.

"Yes," you reply almost instantly, and your eagerness has his eyes darkening—you can see it.

"Fuck," he groans, leaning back again while he takes your hand that isn't wrapped around his length up to his thigh. "Tap twice if you want me to stop, 'kay?" You nod quickly, hoping Minghao will get the idea that you're beginning to grow impatient.

Message received, it seems because before you know it, Minghao is guiding your mouth back to the tip of his length, so you can take him in. Once you have your lips wrapped around him, he pushes you forward more, causing your eyes to widen as you realize he's nearly hitting the back of your throat. You take this as your chance to do exactly what you've been aching for, and you begin to bob your head back and forth.

The moan Minghao lets out is near perfection, and you're immediately encouraged to push more, to push deeper, to do whatever it takes to make him make that sound again. You're about to do it again before you feel your hair being tugged so that you're fully pulled off his cock. "Fuck," he chokes out, looking down at the sight of you with red, puffy lips and blown-out eyes. "Do that again," he demands, and you don't waste a second before you wrap your mouth around him and push down as far as you can. His hand is pushing at the back of your head, his soft words from above encouraging you to go harder to go deeper because you're his angel and he knows you can do it.

God, the words that are spilling out of his mouth are downright filthy but they're messing with your head and before you know it your moving your head back and forth in sync with Minghao's hips that are snapping forward slightly, causing him to batter the back of your throat. It's not the most comfortable feeling but the discomfort definitely not what you're thinking about when you hear Minghao's pants—his soft groans that escape his lips now that you've got him so desperate.

There's drool running down your chin and it's so messy but it's so hot and it has your pussy aching but you can't even think of relieving yourself—not when you can feel the vein on the understand of his dick against your tongue, not when his hand is laced in your hair with such a tight hold you think you might just pass out, not when you know he's so close to his release within minutes all because of you. "Fuck," he grunts again, snapping his hips once more, particularly harder and sloppier this time. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'll come soon."

Your jaw is aching by now but it doesn't compare to the throbbing you feel in your panties—god, you're going to go crazy. You use your hand to rub whatever of his length you can't fit in your mouth, using these last few moments to let Minghao jut his hip and shove your mouth further onto him and holy hell do you love it. You can feel it coming with the way he twitches inside your mouth and you can tell he's about to come when he pulls you off of him, before you're opening your mouth wide again, eyes silently begging him: inside my mouth.

It's like earliedirtr, when you kissed, except now it's so much more frantic, so much more ecstatic—Minghao hears your silent requests and only takes a second to push himself back into your mouth. You only need to suck once or twice before you feel it in your mouth—his cum, hot and shooting down your throat. He pulls out after that, you taking a second to swallow and then lick the glossy tip, your body filling with pride at the way you see his leg twitch.

"God—fuck," Minghao finally manages to say between sputtered breaths, "You're so hot." He pulls you up by the arm as he slips his boxers and shorts back on, placing a hand on your hip as he brings you up for a fierce kiss. Your lips are all swollen and Minghao is extra gentle with the way he runs his tongue along them, kissing you so softly you almost forget that he just face-fucked you less than a minute ago. He's pressed up against the wall right now, but takes this moment to flip you both so it's you who's leaning back.

Minghao pulls away from your lips, chuckling at the way yours chases his in the few seconds after, before connecting his lips to your neck like earlier. "Let me give you something in return, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agree, nodding dumbly the second you feel his hand slip down your shorts, ghosting over your panties.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans as he pressed down through your panties.

"Hao," you moan, as he rubs little circles on your clit over the fabric, "please, please, hurry." Minghao chuckles and usually you'd be embarrassed but then again, there's nothing usual about getting fingered by your roommates best friend while all of his friends are asleep in the next room over. Minghao still is going slow with you, taking an extra moment to slowly push your panties aside. You're growing so impatient, the throbbing between your legs getting so impatient, that you think you might start sobbing. "I've been so good, Hao, please? I wanna cum," you beg, meeting Minghao's eyes as you look up at him.

God, you're doing something to him, he thinks—you might just be the death of him. You just look so cute and so desperate and the way your eyes are already glossy has his dick hard again. The fact that he didn't even have to ask you to beg for him is more than enough for a million thoughts to be racing through his mind, but in all honesty, the only thing he wants to focus on right now is making you come.

"Angel, fuck," he murmurs, into your skin, placing a kiss on your collarbone as he uses one hand to lift your shirt up to your neck so he can hold one of your tits, the other hand running through your folds so he can coat his fingers in your slit. "You wanna come?" he coos, prodding one finger at your entrance, and he thinks he might tease you a little longer but then he sees how quickly you respond and it has his resolve crumbling. He sinks is finger in and it's so long and so thick and reaches places in one go that you can't even even imagine of reaching with your own fingers.

You let out a deep sigh, instinctively grinding down on his hand so that your clit is also brushing against his palm adding to the stimulation. Minghao is gentle in the first few moments, moving his finger in and out at a steady pace before you murmur his name once more, causing him to push a second finger inside. "Oh my god, Minghao," you moan, and his eyes shoot up at yours, using the hand that was at your tits to cover your mouth.

"Quiet," he demands, as he continues to fuck you with your fingers. The sound of your wetness and his fingers against your gummy walls is echoing though the room and all you can think about is how dirty and how erotic this feels, and you moan again quietly again at the thought. Minghao's fingers still inside of you at the sound, and you feel your eyes widen and tear up once more. "Be quiet, or I'll stop," he murmurs, resuming his ministrations once he sees you nod.

"Minghao," you say quietly, throwing your head back when you feel him start to play with one of your nipples. "Feels so—so good," you hiccup, doing your best to keep quiet. He's fucking into you ruthlessly now, the pads of his fingers hitting spots you didn't even know existed, and you know your end is close by the way your vision nearly goes white. You grind against his hand harder, and Minghao picks up on the subtle movement.

"Gonna cum?" he breaths out and you don't even have it in you to say anything, your only response being your quickened movements. "C'mon angel, cum for me," he whispers into your ear and maybe it's his voice or maybe it's the way his fingers have you seeing stars or maybe it's the stimulation of your clit against his palm or maybe it's everything combined but you're cumming hard and fast within seconds around his fingers, and holy shit you think that might just be the best orgasm of your life.

You're left panting as Minghao's fingers slow down inside of you, twitching every few seconds from the overstimulation, before he's pulling them out of you and your panties completely. You want to hide your face, looking away when you realize how wet they are. "Why're you looking away?" Minghao asks, grabbing your chin so you can look at him. "It's hot," he tells you with a shrug, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, raising a brow. You're slightly embarrassed, yes, but you'd be a fool to try and deny him, opening up your mouth and suck your own wetness off him when he presses his fingers into your mouth.

After you swirl your tongue around him a few times, he pulls his hands back, replacing his fingers on your mouth with his lips, kissing you sweetly. You bring your hands up to his hair, moving your lips in unison as he places one hand on your waist, pulling your shirt back down to cover you.

"That was fun," you finally say when you're both pulling away.

"You're gonna drive me up a wall," Minghao mutters under his breath, taking a small step back. "But it was." He's silent for a moment before speaking again. "I'm gonna head back—wouldn't want anyone to wake up and find out I'm not where I supposed to be."

"You think someone would wake up?"

Minghao chuckles, and you feel those butterflies again. "You were pretty loud," he says, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of your neck.

"Whose fault is that again?" you ask.

"Dunno," Minghao says casually. "He must be super hot though."

You click your tongue as Minghao walks backward toward your door. "Hmm, I'll have to agree with that."

He smiles and kisses you hard one last time before ruffling your hair. "Sleep well angel."

a/n. not even going to bother reading this through because i'll get embarrassed. dw guys i'm working on a better hao fic soon >_<

#xu minghao #xu minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao drabbles #minghao imagines #minghao smut #minghao fanfic #minghao #seventeen imagines #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #📝 writing

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lowkeychenle · 10 months

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Cruel Summer [ZCL] (M)

Description: He wants you. Everything to do with you--your heart, your body, all while keeping your friendship. What's a man to do during a 30-day hook up to get you to stay? (This fic is Chenle's POV!)

A/N: this is inspired by 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift, please do listen to this song because it is SO AMAZING.

Genre: Fluff/Smut/Angst (very minimal angst, like u rlly have to squint)

Content Warnings: LOTS OF FLUFF AND SMUT. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK OKAY. Drinking, alcohol, intoxication, some instances of friends being shitty/pushy Smut warnings: this has so much smut oh my god. anyway, use of pet names 'sunshine,' 'baby,' 'pretty,' and combinations of them, rough, unprotected sex, protected sex, choking, the smut rlly progressively gets softer but kinkier? a wee bit of dacrophyilia, one oral scene (m receiving), and i think that's it...i'm so sorry if I missed one this thing is so fucking long

Word Count: 20,050 (seriously wtf did I DO?!)

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!Reader (feat. Mark, Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, and two female OCs, Chaeyoung & Heewon)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Day 1 | June 1st

Chenle, for his entire life, had always said summer was his favorite season. As time went on and he got older, that sentiment got less and less real to him. Now approaching his 23rd year of life, he’d been around long enough to know things younger Chenle never would’ve dreamed of.

Every single summer since high school graduation, Chenle has invited his friends to his family’s vacation house on the beach—including you, his best friend since middle school. You’d seen him through all his awkward phases, and the best part of his month-long summer excursion was seeing you despite how busy the two of you were throughout the year.

For thirty days, everything was normal. You were around, and he relished in your company.

For thirty days, he was able to forget everything except for you and a handful of other friends.

Not that he could ever not have you at the forefront of his mind. Despite the busy schedules you both endured, you somehow ended up crashing at his house often, or vice versa. He often occupied the other side of your bed and, for a long time, thought it was completely normal despite the very odd reactions some people had when he explained he wasn’t your boyfriend.

Nothing had ever happened. At least, not literally. He’d thought about making a move and kissing you, but he decided it wasn’t worth losing your friendship. Throughout your years together, he’d seen you get in relationships, get your heart broken, and break hearts. You’re comfortable being at your lowest with him, and he builds you back up piece by piece without complaint.

“Chenle,” you call from outside, jogging up to the front door. “Is everything in the car? Jaemin and Jeno are almost here.”

He raises his eyebrows as he glances around his house, wondering if he’s forgetting anything. And without meaning to, he scans over you as if he hasn’t been around you all day. Your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat from the overwhelming heat outside, and your shorts climb up your thighs with every passing second, but he swears he doesn’t notice.

“I think so. If we’re missing anything, we can just run into town,” he suggests, tagging his fingers on his sides to stop himself from reaching out to you.

Chenle had a little secret—one he hated keeping from you, but had to nonetheless—and it was simply that he was in love with you. It took him years to come to terms with it. After all this time, he accepted it. If he’s around you, the way he acts doesn’t have to change in the slightest. He’s always treated you as more than a best friend, as you’ve done to him, so there’s no reason for him to ruin that…right?

“You good?” You tilt your head at him. “We’re wasting time.”

“We have a whole month,” Chenle retorts.

“And you’re taking away from our first day.” Your eyes narrow, but before he responds, you turn your back on him and rush out the door, yelling at who he assumes is Jaemin finally arriving.

The four of you are driving together, while Mark, Hyuck, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were taking Mark’s car. They’d probably be a bit late, but Chenle didn’t mind.

His favorite thing was road trips—especially if you were involved. Even when Jaemin and Jeno slept in the backseat, you and Chenle had the radio up, the windows down, and you were singing at the top of your lungs. Your best look is when you’re this happy, yelling lyrics without a care in the world. He shouldn’t, but he steals glances at you whenever he can. You sing, looking at him and grabbing his arm and shaking him depending on what songs were on. Giggles pour out of your mouth when he gives you an incredulous look.

The song you replayed the most these days was Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift, and he would never get tired of it. Every time the chorus came on, you swept him up in your performance, and he almost laughed at the way he related to the lyrics.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He wanted more, but he liked you like this. Hands flying into the air as you scream along to the music. Sooner or later, he ends up joining you. Whenever you’re involved, it’s not weird to find Chenle a single step behind you.

Chenle’s family had a large house on the beach. It was split down the middle, and one of his parents’ conditions was that the boys would stay on one side and the girls on the other. They didn’t have a way to prove any different, but everyone respected their rules.

Jaemin and Jeno typically played whatever game console was in the living room while Chenle got to spend a little bit of alone time with you before the rest of the hyper ones got in.

He stands across the kitchen, watching as you unload all of the snacks you brought onto the counter. After a long drive, the sun is setting on the horizon, and the pretty colors reflecting off your skin have him beyond distracted. It wouldn’t be weird for him to hug you. He’s been clingy with you since…well, since he first met you.

“You sure you don’t want any help?” he asks.

“It’s just little things.” You shrug, waving him off. “That drive was…exhausting.”

He laughs, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself.

“What?” You continue taking boxes out of the bags.

“The drive always knocks you out, but you do the same thing every time anyway.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna sit with Jaem and Jeno. Come out when you’re done?”

You grin at him. “I’ll only be a few more minutes. Go ahead.”

He leaves you in the kitchen, the nightfall creeping into the house and making his eyes heavy. His bed calls to him from upstairs, but he wants to wait for you. And he doesn’t have a choice but to wait for Mark and the rest of the gang, because they’ll have to have a way inside.

When you join him, you’re equally as tired as him. You slump next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. With your warmth pressed against him, he smiles and wraps his arm around you. Jaemin and Jeno are battling away, sleep not touching them any time soon after the nap they had in the car.

“You okay?” he whispers, careful not to alert the other two.

Nodding, you curl into him further, sighing into his chest. He hugs you, and somehow, you end up curled into a ball on his lap, head buried in his neck. Your breath tickles his skin, but he doesn’t dare disturb you.

He cradles the back of your head, rubbing his thumb on your scalp. When your breathing steadies, he relaxes. You’re asleep, and if he knows himself at all, he’ll be following you in no time. Any time you’re tired after a long day, you curl into him like this, and he’s come to relish in these moments.

His eyes flutter shut, his own exhaustion peeking through. Absent-mindedly, he presses his lips to the top of your head.

“Ew,” Jaemin groans, giving Chenle a disgusted look. “They make rooms for whatever’s going on there.”

Chenle glares at him once, and he purses his lips and turns his attention back to the game.

“Seriously, if you want to go to bed, we’ll wait for the others,” Jeno offers. “We are capable of opening a door.”

Chenle contemplates it for a moment. He knows he should be the one to greet everyone, but the gentle snores escaping you makes him want to cuddle you properly. It wouldn’t be the first time one of you “snuck in” to the other side of the house and stayed with one another. At the end of the day, he couldn’t get enough of you. Your skin is soft beneath his fingertips, and despite everyone knowing how desperately he wants you except for you, he likes to act like it’s a secret.

“Alright,” he mumbles, shifting under you to see if he’ll be able to find a way to hold onto you. “Make sure to lock it when they arrive.”

Jeno and Jaemin don’t say anything else when he lifts you up and walks you down the hall toward his bedroom. He lays you on his bed first, pulling the blankets back to settle you beneath them.

You’re so peaceful like this—face soft, the slightest smile on your lips. He finds himself dragging his thumb along your cheek just to be able to touch you. You’re perfect to him.

He climbs in next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you against his chest. You hum quietly, subconsciously turning to him and bury your head in his chest. He grins to himself at the feeling, at the idea of you being so accustomed to him that you’ll want him even in your sleep.

Kissing the top of your head, he lets out a sigh of content before resting back against his pillow.

Day 2 | June 2nd

The morning together was just like any other—you stayed cuddled up until eight came along and the others were whining down the hall about being hungry. Chenle wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone verbally, but the reason he likes these vacations so much is because of the privacy he gets with you.

Yeah, all of your friends are there, but they’re used to the level of clinginess Chenle has with you. His family, on the other hand? If they knew he woke up at 6:30 am and stayed with you wrapped up in his arms for an hour and a half…

“We should go help before they burn down the kitchen,” you murmur, sighing quietly.

“The longer I can stay in bed, the better.” He squeezes you tighter. “Five more minutes.”

You nod in agreement, shuffling closer. His hand rubs up and down your back, gently dragging his nails to help soothe you further. How you’re unaware of his feelings for you is beyond him—he’s always treated you this way. Like you’re the most important person in his life.

Because…news flash, you are.

Eventually, the two of you have to get up. Mark and Heewon are in the kitchen, and you immediately deduct that that’s a mistake. Chenle quickly shoos them from the kitchen, taking over the role of breakfast chef with your help.

While the two of you cook together, he never has to verbally ask you things. You’re in such harmony, it’s like you know every single move he’s going to make before he does.

“So,” Jaemin says, sitting down on one of the stools behind the island. “The girls said they want to go to the bar tonight. You guys down?”

“Tonight?” Your eyebrows pinch, and your lips turn downward. “It’s only day two.”

“Yeah, we’re trying to maximize our fun time,” Jeno interjects, taking a seat next to Jaemin. “We’ve only got thirty days before we return to the real world.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to count me out.” You scrunch up your nose. “But I’ll start doing things tomorrow. I just need to recharge a little more before I go out anywhere.”

Jaemin turns his attention to Chenle, either wanting him to convince you to go, or to see if Chenle will also be staying in.

“Sorry, Jaem.” Chenle shrugs. “I’m not leaving her here by herself.”

You appreciatively poke his side, something the other two boys don’t see, but it makes his heart flutter nonetheless.

“You two are only forgiven because of the breakfast you’re making. We expect hangover breakfasts tomorrow, too.” Jaemin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts.

“We’ll see.” Chenle continues chopping the onion, sending a quick smile your way when you finish washing the green peppers and putting them down in front of him.

He figured he’d be used to you by now—to the feelings he’s harbored for so long. But every time you prove, once again, that you know him just as well as you know yourself, it makes him want you so much more.

Chenle ended up making dinner, too, which was simply microwaving ramen for each person until everyone was content. Mark, Hyuck, Jaem, Jeno, Heewon, and Chaeyoung were all leaving by six, swearing they wouldn’t be home too late.

“Make them order pizza or something,” you suggest to him as you dry the dishes he washes. “They’re grown adults with money.”

“I kinda like this,” he admits.

“Cooking for the same friends you’ve been cooking for since 7th grade?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he snorts.

“Cooking for people in general,” he corrects. “And I like that you’re here to help me. Or just here at all.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t mean it like that. Let me appreciate your company, asshole.” He finishes up the last dish and turns the water off before handing it to you.

You hum in response, quickly drying it before setting it in the cupboard where it goes. Turning toward him, you lean the small of your back on the counter while your hands grip the edge. Your gaze scans over him, and he swears he feels his spine twist in the most delicate of ways. He loves when you look at him, and whenever you study him, he wonders what kind of lessons he teaches you.

“Thanks for staying back with me,” you say.

“Of course.” He waves you off. “I didn’t want to go to the bar anyway.”

“So, what do we do?”

Chenle chuckles. “Not a clue. The possibilities are endless, I guess.”

“Do you still have that karaoke machine?” You narrow your eyes at him as you await his response.

“Is that even a question? Hell yeah, I do. We can get it set up?”

The smile spreading across your face makes his heart skip, and despite how much he wants to reach out for your hand to pull you down the hall, all he does is gesture to the direction you need to go in.

You clap your hands, quickly following his lead.

This room used to be an office of sorts, but has since evolved now that Chenle’s parents don’t come here anymore. The desk has been pushed against the wall next to the TV, and a large couch takes up the majority of the room. A long time ago, he thought it’d be funny to buy a karaoke machine after he’d realized how much he likes to sing, and it just so happened that you felt the same way.

Every time the two of you come here, it’s a must. However, he hasn’t had the opportunity to have it be just you. Someone else was always intruding on his time, at least for the past few years.

Part of the reason he fell for you in the first place was because of how similar you were to him. You shared similar interests and passions that he didn’t usually find in other people. That, or he wasn’t looking once he realized how much he wanted you.

He loves music, and in every piece he hears, he finds you.

You deeply relate to the music you enjoy, and he admires that about you as well. You pick the songs for the evening, and he has no qualms. He’d rather listen to your picks on repeat than try and go off on his own.

The night starts off easy, some of the songs you pick are classics that you make him do every time. After three songs, you picked Cruel Summer. He knows all the lyrics by now—he memorizes everything that comes out of your pretty lips, regardless of if it’s a song or not. He’ll never forget those lyrics for as long as he lives.

Your laugh is so damn contagious. He tries his best to pull that sound from you every chance he gets, but the air around you is…bittersweet. These moments are his favorite—where he gets to have fun with you and forget the rest of the world exists. But they also make him want you more, and everything you could give him. He wants to be yours, and nights like these prove to him that you’re not.

Three songs in, and you’re both panting and laughing your asses off. Karaoke is never just singing—no, you dance until your legs feel like they’ll give out. That’s Chenle’s number one rule, that it’s never enough to sing the songs. You’ve got to perform them.

But Cruel Summer starts, and he can’t help but see the irony of you singing it in his presence. Or him joining you in it.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

You know that I caught it

He sings along, but he quiets himself. Listening to you has become one of his favorite pastimes, so he’ll take any opportunity he can. He dances with you, spins you around, and begs any sort of higher power that he can have you like this forever.

And it's new, the shape of your body

It's blue, the feeling I've got

And it's ooh, whoa, oh

It's a cruel summer

It's cool, that's what I tell 'em

No rules in breakable heaven

A gold gleam catches in the dim lighting when he twirls you in a circle, and he grins. He loves when you wear that bracelet—which is all the time, because he’s got one nearly identical, but yours has his name on it and his has yours.

The chorus makes him move around the room, hyping you up at every chance he has. You laugh through the lyrics, out of breath from the previous songs, too.

So cut the headlights, summer's a knife

I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know

God, he fucking loves you.

The room fades around him while he’s having fun with you, and he wishes he could spend every moment this way. With the excited glow to you, the carefree laughter, the genuine fun.

I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine," but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

As the lyrics pick up, he joins in for real. This part of the song is his favorite, because the next lyrics are exactly what he wants to say to you but can’t work up the courage to do it.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He imagines hearing those words from you, too full of emotion to keep them in any longer. You yell the lyrics between laughter, throwing your head back and dancing as if you’ve been drinking. He watches you so fondly, he’s sure you’ll notice.

The chorus comes back, and you walk up to him like you’re serenading him, making dramatic hand motions while he laughs at you. His whole body buzzes when you’re like this. When everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

Something changes. He doesn’t notice at first, but your expression changes. The song is about to end, and his heart lurches violently in his chest.

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks at you as the last lyrics pour from your mouth, the wide smile on your face dissipating when you see how close he is to you. Instead of yelling them like you did last time, the words trail off, barely leaving your mouth as a whisper. His chest heaves from the energy expended, yours mirroring his. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, the adrenaline sitting on top of his lungs as his brain malfunctions on what to do next.

Honestly, he doesn’t know who does it. Someone leans forward, and your lips are locked. Passion lingers, desperation tugging at his very soul at the feeling of your arms around him. His heart pounds in his ears, almost blocking out how Cruel Summer’s instrumental repeats in the background.

He clenches his fists in the fabric of your shirt, praying, hoping this isn’t one of his bullshit dreams. Without any idea how it happened, he relishes in the softness of your mouth, the way you accept his tongue so easily, and the soft moan you let out when he tugs on your bottom lip gently.

He pants harder now, forehead against yours as he tries to figure out what the hell he should do. You should stop. All of this is a mistake—he didn’t want his first time with you to be like this, where his want makes his pants tighter in record time. The only logical thought in his brain is that damn sound you just made and how he can drag it from you again and again.

Thunder booms in his veins as he pulls you back to him, the second he was without your kiss much too long. You press yourself to him, digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s almost like he has no control over his actions at the moment, the long-standing need for you clouding his judgment.

The pretty, pretty sound you make when he spins you around and practically slams the small of your back against the edge of his desk has him forgetting everything else exists. It’s only you. You and how fucking badly he wants you.

He doesn’t dare speak a word.

Inhaling sharply, he sweeps his arm across all the miscellaneous junk on top of it, successfully and messily clearing a spot for you to sit. You take the hint, hoisting yourself up on the edge and spreading your legs to give him room.

Heat pulses through the room, sending waves through his body. He wants to peel all of his clothes off, have you naked beneath him, and take you in all the ways he’s dreamed off. The glimpse of your black panties below that damn skirt has him more than ready for you.

You tug him closer, interrupting the way he stares at your core. His cock already strains, begging to be buried inside you. He’s not sure where the hell this side of him came from, but the dark gleam in your eyes has him forgetting there’s anything wrong with it.

Sweat already arises on his skin, the mere thought of having you this way enough to send him into a fucking cardiac arrest. There’s no time to be timid—he reaches beneath your skirt to find the hem of your panties, mouths still clashing beautifully.

Without interrupting the kiss, you nod, lifting your hips up so he can rip the skimpy fabric from your body.

Your hands fly down to his pants, and his heart starts doing backflips. Neither of you has said a word, and he thinks for a moment that he should…just to make sure he’s what you want. But at the same time, he figures you know as much as he does how this is a long time coming.

“Do you—”

“I need you right fucking now,” you murmur, shaky fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Fuck, help me.”

His mouth waters. He wishes he could take his time with you, but having you squirming and asking for him to be inside you makes him crazy. Without wasting another second, he reaches down and pushes his pants down to the middle of his thighs. He gasps when you grab him over his boxers, gripping him like you’ve done this exact thing with him hundreds of times.

God, he can’t fucking take it anymore. Pushing your back down against the desk, he flips your skirt up to expose your slick entrance to him. One of his hands grips your hip and digs his nails into your skin, and the other pushes his boxers down.

He debates with himself for a second on how he should do this. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but he’ll really fucking explode if he’s not inside you within the next ten seconds. He plans on being good, on giving you a second to adjust to him, but when he gently starts pushing inside you, your wetness gushes around him.

Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and your back arches on the wood, and your mouth falls open, and suddenly he can’t control himself. If he gives himself a few seconds to enjoy you while he’s buried so deep, he’ll never be able to let you go. He’ll need to be inside all the time, and that doesn’t sound much like best friends.

Your moans spill recklessly past your lips, the jolt of his thrusts distorting the sound. Fuck, he loves you, but he never imagined sex could feel this good. You flutter around him, urging his cock to move faster, and he does his best to oblige. The desk slams into the wall over and over again, the sound almost as erotic as the sight before him.

You try and fail to find something to hold onto, and when he sees your friendship bracelet—the one with his fucking name on it—he loses it. He puts his hand beneath your neck, pulling you up so you’re face to face. Your face is blissed out, eyes barely staying open as he gives you everything he’s got.

His skin is sticky with sweat, the clothes uncomfortably clinging to his back, he reaches between the two of you, growing frustrated that he left your skirt on. He throbs inside you, desperate to reach his end, so gives the fabric a firm tug, and you gape when it rips at the seam. He half-expects you to scold him for ruining a perfectly good outfit, but instead, your hips buck toward his.

A tingling sensation forms at the base of his length, and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he reaches completion. Without wasting another second, his hand dives between your legs, your arousal making his thumb glide effortlessly across your clit.

Your body shakes, and you lean forward to bury your head in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to contain yourself. He can’t hold back his moans, moving just a bit faster and adjusting his angle to increase your pleasure.

“Fuck, Ch—”

He tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you back to watch your face.

“Fu—Close,” you whine, lifting your hips to match his thrusts. “I’m cu—”

You cut yourself off with a scream of pleasure, and he swears your walls clamp down on him so tightly, his cock will get stuck. His thrusts falter at the overwhelming feeling of your euphoria, and as soon as it hits you, he’s spurting inside you.

He kisses up the side of your neck, barely breathing properly as he regains his composure. His orgasm wracks his body, pulsing throughout his veins and his bones.

You grasp onto him for dear life, and he returns your embrace. His chest is against yours, both hearts pounding.

And then reality sets in. The music returns to his ears, the beat to Cruel Summer still on a loop, and he wonders how closely you relate to the lyrics.

“Um,” you say breathlessly. “Wow.”

“That…”

“Happened.” You nod, a dazed look on your face as you blink past the shock.

He gulps, wishing that best friend telepathy was real at a time like this. How does he respond to that? Did you enjoy it? Are you already regretting it?

“Chenle,” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“You’re still…inside me.”

His face burns, and he quickly pulls out of you, trying not to look at the mess he knows is between your legs. He turns away from you to settle himself back in his pants, and he finds your panties on the ground where he threw them.

He gives them to you, and you awkwardly shuffle off the desk before sliding the fabric back up your legs. But he doesn’t want you to…walk away. He wants to take you back to his bed and cuddle you to sleep. To take care of you like he should after such an intimate moment.

Surely, he can’t kiss you, can he?

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Seriously?” You frown at him. “That’s what you want to ask me right now?”

“I don’t really know how to—”

The front door opens, just down the hall as your drunk group of friends arrives back. Your face drops, and you curse under your breath.

“Damn it.” You frantically look around for something to cover your lower half before you go.

Guilt tears at Chenle’s chest—not just because of the ripped skirt, but because it seems like you’re not very happy with your decision. The last thing he ever wanted was to push you into anything. He grabs a blanket from the couch on the other side of the room and hands it to you.

“Chenle! (Y/N)!” Jaemin’s hammered voice booms across the house.

“(Y/N), can we just—”

“Not now, Chenle.” You shake your head, wrapping yourself up in the blanket and grabbing the split fabric to hide it.

You loop your fingers in his belt loops to tug him close to you, and his jaw drops as he stumbles over. Instead of doing any of the things he wanted you to, you tuck his shirt into his jeans. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing, but then he feels how soaked it is.

Again, his face is on fire. How the hell is he supposed to do this?

He runs his fingers through your hair to fix the tangles, heart racing. As soon as he takes a step away from you, the door opens. Jaemin pours in without any concern.

“Well,” you say, chuckling. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“(Y/N), wait—” Chenle reaches out to you but decides at the last minute to stop, knowing how much is riding on that damn blanket staying put.

“Goodnight, Chenle.” You glance at him, eyes wide and swirling with something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“It smells weird in here,” Jaemin grumbles as he waddles around the room. “Why?”

“Dunno,” Chenle replies with a grimace. “It’s because you’re drunk. Off to bed with all of us.”

Yep…except he’ll be alone, when all he wants is to be curled up with you.

Day 3 | June 3rd

When Chenle wakes up in the morning, he’s pretty sure everything was a dream. He messes with the bracelet latched on his wrist, gulping at the memory of you. How is he supposed to act normally now?

He has to talk to you. Figure out what the hell you’re thinking, because if you regret it, it might break his heart, but he’ll know how you feel about him. You’ve told each other stories of previous relationships, hook-ups, whatever just came out randomly. He never imagined he’d be one of those hook-ups.

And now his bed is all too empty without you, and it’s only day three.

Images of the night before flash through his mind, and he analyzes everything he sees to try and figure out what he did wrong. If he did something wrong. You almost always sleep next to him, so if this persists, the others will begin to notice, too.

He gets out of bed, hands shoved into the pockets of his pajama pants as he makes his way to the kitchen. Everyone else is awake, the guys and Heewon sitting on the couch. You and Chaeyoung were nowhere to be found, but he tried his best to make it nonchalant. He didn’t want everyone to know he messed up with you. That explanation would be hard.

He glances in the kitchen and still doesn’t see you or your closest friend (besides him, obviously), so he sighs and sits on the far end of the couch. The awkwardness creeps in, like the whole group secretly knows what you two did. Like they’re silently judging him for single-handedly ruining your friendship.

“Who shit in your cheerios?” Hyuck asks, shifting forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Huh?” Chenle frowns. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”

“Oh, (Y/N) said you weren’t feeling well last night. She and Chaeyoung went to town to grab some medicine or something.” Mark stretches before getting up to go into the kitchen. “She seemed worried, are you okay?”

Chenle gulps, and he hopes it’s not noticeable. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

Thankfully, they continue their conversation. He can relax for a bit, and then when you come back, he’ll pull you aside. After all, he won’t let this fester. He needs to talk to you—to find out if you view him any differently since he crossed that line with you. The last thing he wants is for anything to change. He likes your friendship the way it is, but he’s also been so desperately in love with you for so long that hope clings to him like a leech.

The door opens, and his head jolts toward it when he hears your laugh. His hands clench into fists, and he’s halfway certain he looks like a lost puppy right now.

The second you see him, he watches your expression change. Your giggle stops halfway through, and you clear your throat as you give him the same wide-eyed look you gave him last night. He wants to jump up and tell you things don’t have to change, maybe even beg you for your forgiveness and say he’ll do anything to keep you in his life—

You and Chaeyoung disappear into the kitchen, and Mark comes back in shortly after. Chenle’s getting antsy, his anxiety sparking at the bottom of his spine as his foot taps on the floor. If he jolts up and runs after you, everyone will know something is wrong.

And if they all know, it’s only a matter of time before Jaemin opens his big mouth, and then you’ll be forever embarrassed by the idea of sleeping with Chenle, and summer vacations will never be the same.

So he gives you five minutes.

“...need to figure things out.” Chaeyoung’s voice is hushed, standing next to you on the far end of the kitchen.

“Yeah, tell me about it. But I—” You stop the moment you catch Chenle in the room.

“I think Jeno needs me for something,” Chaeyoung mentions, sending a small smile his way before darting out of the room. He sighs. If you told Chaeyoung, you’re probably more freaked out than he thought.

You look down at your feet as he approaches you.

“We need to talk about this,” he mutters. “I don’t like feeling like I fucked up.”

Your gaze darts up to his, your eyebrows furrowed as you scan over his face. “This isn’t really the best place to talk, Le. Any of them could walk in right now.’

“I’m not just—I’m not going to forget about it. It happened, okay? And it’s okay if you’re upset by it and you never want to be near me again, but I…I need to know. The silence is killing me.” He realizes it hasn’t been that long, but sleeping alone really got to him.

“Why would you think I’m upset?” you ask.

“You practically ran away from me last night. And you usually sleep with me, and you didn’t. You didn’t even tell me you were going anywhere this morning.”

“I figured you’d know where I was going.” You cross your arms over your chest, glancing away from him.

“How could I possibly have known?” he inquires.

“Chenle…” You let out a small laugh. “You…you came inside me last night. Chaeyoung took me to buy Plan B.”

His jaw drops as he flounders for words. Cheeks burning, he drops his head into his hands and sighs. “I’m a fucking idiot. I didn’t even realize, I was so—I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I would ever—”

“Relax.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I was the one who kissed you. You’re psyching yourself out, because I don’t regret it or anything like that. Actually, I’d…kinda like to do it again.”

Alarm bells ring in his head, and his eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out of his skull when he looks at you fast enough to give himself whiplash.

“You want to…” he trails off, lowering his voice. “...have sex with me again?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” You chew the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your fingers. Quickly, you continue, “Obviously, nothing has to change. Like, I’m not asking you for…a relationship or anything. There won’t be any rules. Except the fact that you have to…you know, use a condom, but we could just…have a good summer.”

His heart sinks. What you’re proposing is not what he wants. It further proves to him you don’t reciprocate the feelings that led him to his recklessness last night. He shouldn’t agree. No, he should say he’d prefer to keep anything…sexual…out of your friendship, but God damn it, he was tired of leaving his love on the side. Maybe he can’t tell you out loud, but if you’re okay with sleeping with him, he’ll show you.

“Chenle?” you whisper. “I’m sorry if that’s too much. You can forget I said anything.”

You scramble to gather yourself before you try to turn away from him. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him.

“I wasn’t expecting that.” He pauses, sighing. “Are you sure, (Y/N)? This could get messy.”

“I know I said no rules, but I’m a little bit of a control freak—”

“You act like this is the first time I’ve met you.” Chenle chuckles.

You glare at him before continuing. “Anyway. Nobody can know. I told Chae, but she had to drive me so she doesn’t count. Plus, she won’t tell the others. So, we act normal around our friends, okay? And we don’t…talk about it. Things happen as they will, and we wait until at least the end of June to figure things out.”

“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he admits, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“We don’t have to change. But I did like yesterday, and it’s been so long since someone’s made me—” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips into a line. “You know what I mean.”

“I…Yeah, I do know you’ve been with trash guys—”

You gently smack his chest, glaring at him. “That was not permission for a dig.”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, his heart melting in his chest when he sees the smile spread on your face. Maybe you don’t have feelings for him, but you don’t hate him—that’ll be enough to get him through this. At least for a while.

“So, we’re good?” You look up at him.

He’s no match for you. Not in any case or situation. His heart belongs to you, and it tears him apart piece by piece to know yours isn’t his.

“Of course, we’re good.” He nods, pulling you in for a hug and sighing in relief. “We can do whatever you want to do.”

“Oh, but that sounds like you don’t want to.” You cringe, but he laughs.

“This is kind of new territory, you know. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have done it the first time.” God, but he wants so much more. He wants all of you, not just momentary flings.

You pull back from him, your gaze gleaming. “And how long have you wanted to do that?”

“I’ll have to get drunk before I tell you the answer to that.” He snorts. “Let’s go back out there before they realize how long we’ve been in here.”

The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least. Chenle was happy to have you back at least in your normal friendship way, so he just enjoyed the way you put your legs over his lap and rested your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t feel awkward around the group like he expected to be, but it wasn’t until later in the night when it really set in. With the two of you in his bedroom, the door closed (and locked).

Watching you closely, he’s dying to reach out and touch you. He’s not sure if it’s normal urges he always felt or if they’re new, from the way he had you just yesterday. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgets with his hands.

“You don’t have to be awkward,” you mention to him as you pull your shirt over your head.

He’s not a stranger to seeing your body. You’ve never been uncomfortable changing with him in the room, and he does the same with you. He almost laughs to himself at the thought of seeing you more naked beforehand than while you had sex. His mind races, and when you reach behind your back for the clasp of your bra, his face heats up and he averts his gaze.

It doesn’t matter what he agreed to—it doesn’t feel right to look at you in a state like this without your permission.

Once you’ve pulled one of his T-shirts over your head, you walk over to him, nestling yourself between his legs. He gulps as he looks up at you. Your finger traces along his jaw, eyes scanning over his face.

“Normal, right?” he whispers, gripping the back of your thighs.

“Totally normal.” You nod.

“But I still can…kiss you? If I feel like it?” His voice almost fails him, his heart lodged in his throat.

“When we’re alone, you can do whatever you want.”

Your words make his heart stop in his chest, and he realizes the implications of this. If he’s fallen completely for you without kissing, sex, and the intimacy of those physical aspects, what will it be like when he gets you whenever he wants?

“I want it, too.” You cup his cheeks and tilt his head up.

“And if it’s just kissing?” he asks. “What if that’s all I want right now?”

“Whatever you want,” you reassure him. “I’m not expecting you to want sex every night, you psycho.”

“C’mere.” He pulls you closer, one of his hands grasping the nape of your neck. The initial brush of your lips against his has his breath shuddering. He’s not prepared for any of this. It hasn’t really sunk in yet, but the way your mouth tastes has every sense in his body heightened.

He curses under his breath when you climb on top of him and straddle his lap. It still feels like he’s taking advantage of you like this—you don’t know his true feelings, so how could he do this to you?

“Chenle.” You sigh and halt your movements. “If this is too weird for you, we don’t have to—”

He shakes his head, hands immediately flying to your ass and pushing you closer to him. His length is beginning to harden, and he moves you to make sure you feel it through his shorts.

“I…want you.” He squeezes, making your hips roll.

“Then what’s going on?” you ask.

“I just need to get used to it,” he replies. “To acknowledge how much I…It just feels kinda like I’m dreaming.”

“Why?”

“You…” His cheeks are so hot, he thinks they’ll burn off. “I never thought you’d want me like this.”

You chuckle, and much to his dismay, climb off his lap and get into bed. “Little do you know, I was thinking the same thing.”

He yearns to reach out to you, to pull you back to him, but instead, he lets out a sigh and takes his spot next to you. The last thing he needs to do is push you. He’d walk on eggshells if he had to, if only it meant he could keep whatever fragile intimacy occurring between you.

He wraps his arm around your waist, taking a deep breath as you turn toward him and bury your head in his chest.

And after you fall asleep, he’s still up through the night, trying to figure out if there’s any chance of this ending in his favor.

Day 5 | June 5th

He wants you.

Everything inside him burns at the thought of your agreement, and he needs to pull you away from your friends and have his way with you. He tells himself over and over again that patience is key, but he can’t stand it.

The last few days were uneventful—well, as uneventful as they could be when it came to his newfound physicality with you. He thinks of kissing you in front of everyone, showing all of them where his head has been since the second night at this damn place.

How is he so needy after three days?

In closed quarters, you kiss him, hug him, grind on him, he’s sure his head is going to explode any moment. The night at the bonfire is coming to a close, but not fast enough.

“(Y/N)!” Mark calls out from the water’s edge. “How much money for you to jump in?”

You let out a loud ha! and shuffle away from Chenle. The air is warm, so he knows you’ll be okay, but he’s also concerned by how much he’s interested in seeing your body soaked with—

Hyuck’s hand smacks Chenle’s chest, causing him to cough and shoot a glare at the other man. “What the hell?”

“Why are you staring like that?” Hyuck asks. “Nervous Mark’s gonna steal your girl?”

“She’s not my girl.” He has to force the words out. After all, he doesn’t really believe them….or want to. “I’m just tired.”

Donghyuck lets out a childish chuckle, putting his beer bottle to his lips and chugging the rest of it. Chenle sips his own drink, returning his grumpy stare to you. You’re laughing uncontrollably as you climb out of the water, soaked from head to toe. Your head falls back as you hit Mark’s arm, barely able to contain yourself from whatever Donghyuck made him miss.

You’re barely lit by the firelight, but Chenle’s never seen someone so beautiful. Fooling your friends won’t be hard—he knows damn well he’s always acted the same way around you that he does now, and he certainly has been this clingy since day one. You give him one of your award-winning grins, and before he can object, you flop yourself down on his lap, cackling evilly as the water soaks through his clothes, too.

“(Y/N), what the hell—” Chenle attempts to push you off, but you push yourself into him further.

“I’m soaked.” You don’t stop giggling, but Chenle hates the way he reacts to those words.

His face flames, and before you understand what happened, he pushes you from his lap so you’re sitting next to him on the chair. You look at him inquisitively, and he ignores you with another quick drink.

Music plays from the speakers. You get up to switch the song since your phone is the one set up. It’s only at that moment he realizes you know exactly what you’re doing. Cruel Summer plays, and every inch of his body catches on fire.

His throat dries, and you look at him over your shoulder.

Despite every muscle in his body craving for him to approach you and pull you back into the house, he gets up to grab another bottle instead. The night is going to drag, and he’s almost guilty for how he’s thinking. He’s supposed to be here and enjoying the summer with his friends, and all he wants is to be alone with you.

Pushing you to the back of his mind, he tries to engage more in conversations with the group. He gets into a somewhat heated discussion with Jaemin about global warming, and when you take your spot next to him, he naturally puts his arm around you as you lean into him.

“Can we go to bed?” you ask him, lips brushing his ear. “I’m tired.”

“We should wait,” he replies, taking in the rest of the group. “Just a bit longer, okay?”

You whine quietly but nod, putting your head on Chenle’s shoulder. He’s itching to drag you to his bedroom, but he wants things to be as normal as possible. The two of you rarely cut the party short, and on top of that, he’d prefer to know where everyone else was before he started touching you.

It’s only another ten minutes before Heewon decides she’s done for the night. Chenle nearly sighs in relief.

Everyone agrees to head in, and you all casually separate with a quick goodnight. As soon as Chenle’s door closes behind him, he sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“You okay?” you ask him, turning him to face you. “You’ve been off all day.”

He shakes his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he examines you. “You…you said you wanted this, and I’m kind of confused. If you act the same, how do I know when you…you know.”

Your eyes gleam as you smile at him. The sight alone has his heart doing somersaults, and he suddenly wishes he could take the question back. He’s tired of wondering—he needs to figure out what all of this means.

“You’re so cute, Lele,” you tease him. “How are you supposed to know when I want you? Always. I’ve been waiting for you to initiate because you seemed a little uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to push you.”

“So, all I need to do is tell you when I’m…” He cringes at himself. “This is weird.”

You move closer to him and sling your arms over his shoulders. “Exactly. All you have to say is that you want me, and I’m yours.” Your voice is so soft and sweet, it caresses his ears and flows into his brain, and his senses become overrun by you.

“I do. Right now.” Is all he says before he swallows his nerves and connects his mouth with yours. You gasp against him, startled at the sudden movement, but within seconds, return his gesture.

His hands move to the small of your back and press you as close as possible, his lips working messily against yours. He wastes no more time; walking you backward, he lets you fall back onto the mattress.

Settling himself between your legs, he takes a second to look at you—to study your face and the look in your eyes that’s never really changed. He wonders how long you’ve wanted him for. Your thighs part to welcome him perfectly, sighing when he rolls his hips tentatively.

“This,” he whispers, lips grazing your neck. “This is how it should’ve been the first time.”

His nerves seep away when your body shudders beneath his. Your hair is still slightly damp, clinging to your skin and enticing him further. He grinds his hardening length over your core and kisses you gently.

“You have to be quiet,” he continues. “Jaemin and Jeno are right down the hall.”

You nod, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him back to you. “I know. I’ll be good, Lele.”

He gapes for a moment, not used to words having such an effect on him. Gulping, he reaches up and runs his thumb along your bottom lip.

“That’s right,” he confirms. “Be a good girl for me and you won’t regret it.”

Your gaze gets a shade darker, and the thought of what awaits him beneath your clothes overwhelms him completely. You grab at his shirt, attempting to pull it off his body. He moves back to remove it, and then you’re arching your back to allow him to do the same to you. Sitting on his knees, he moves his hands up your body until they’re squeezing your breasts through your black lace bra.

“Can I—”

“You don’t have to ask, Chenle.” You cup his cheeks, lifting his head so he sees you. “I trust you.”

He’s uncomfortably hard at this point as he takes your shorts off you. Your panties match your bra, and he swears he’s never been closer to finishing in his pants. Nobody has ever made him weak like you do. They’ve never appealed to him in the same way, a way of adoration and love and all the beautiful things life has to offer.

You sit up to unclasp the material supporting your chest, tossing it across the room. Everything inside Chenle melts. You, in this vulnerable state, staring at him impatiently as he pushes you back against the mattress.

He dips down, taking your nipple in his mouth. A quiet sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and his hips buck against yours. He grinds against you as if he’s already thrusting in and out, and he groans at the thought of your wetness all over him.

His nails drag up and down your thigh, and as he pulls away from your breast to move to the other, a strand of saliva follows. The sight is far more erotic than he imagined, and he grips your thigh harshly.

“Kiss me,” you ask him. “Please.”

And someone like him could never deny someone like you—he lunges upward to capture your mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he moves his hand to the hem of your panties. He pulls away for a second, glancing at you once for confirmation.

You nod, almost frantically, and he decides it’s okay to let go for tonight. You want him as badly as he wants you, so why should he hold back? He curses under his breath the second he feels your arousal on his fingertips.

At first, he teases you, running his finger up your entrance until he’s brushing your clit. He smirks at the way you squirm beneath him, desperate for his touch. He’s the one you want.

“Ask me nicely,” he hums against your neck. “Be good and tell me you need me.”

“God, Chenle,” you whine, rocking your hips. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”

His own eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he pushes two fingers inside of you. You grip him so tightly, he wonders how you took him so well just a few nights before. He’d been an asshole and got right to it instead of working you up.

Your breaths turn into whimpers, and your walls quiver around him. He’s already lost in you, in the way you feel on his fingers and the scrunch of your face as you try to hold back the noises you’re desperate to make. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to fall for you more than he already has, but tonight, he learns that falling in love is not linear, and it doesn’t stop.

Tonight, he finds out that it’s a free fall into the deepest ocean, and the only option is to sink further in the water and let the waves take him.

He swallows your quiet moan, positioning his thumb on your clit as he continues his descent into madness. Your walls begin to tighten, so he instinctively kisses you, using his hand to help you ride out the high that’s sending shivers down your body. You squirm beneath him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks you.

Still dazed, you blink a couple times. “Uh, I…they’re in the nightstand I think.”

He kisses your cheek, irritated at the coldness when he moves away from you. Sighing in relief once he finds the box, he opens it and tears one away from the rest. He tries to swallow his nerves, but when he sees you resting on your elbows, waiting for him, he halts.

This is you.

The one he’s always been able to be himself around, and what if he’s ruining it by thinking with his dick?

“I know that look.” You lift yourself off the bed and approach him, grabbing the wrapper from him. “We don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I want to,” he says, wetting his lips. “I want you, but I don’t want to lose you.”

You frown, shaking your head and pulling him closer. “It doesn’t matter how this goes, Le. You’ll never lose me. I promise.”

I love you almost slips, but he holds it back. But God, he’s sure he’s never loved you more.

You reach down to push his shorts and boxers down before guiding him back. He sits on the edge of the bed, gripping your hips and refraining from yanking you onto his lap and sliding his cock in.

When you open the condom wrapper, his heart is about to jump out of his chest. And then you’re putting it on him, pushing your panties to the floor, climbing onto his lap to straddle him, and rubbing his tip against your entrance.

It’s like time stops as you sink down on his length. Moonlight flits in through the windows, illuminating your body and your skin and the subtle eye roll. He can’t breathe. Every time he tries, his lungs fail him, as if you’re drowning him with everything you have.

He wraps his arms around you, your chest pressing to his as he slowly, slowly guides you down on him. You both sigh together, trying not to alert your friends down the hall.

“You’re amazing,” he mutters, dazed. “Feels so fucking good.”

You drop your head onto his shoulder, your uneven breaths fanning across his skin. He rocks his hips, but your tightness almost makes it hard for him to move. This time, he doesn’t want to rush. He wants to enjoy all you have to offer and take his time with you—make love to you, really.

“Hold on, baby,” he whispers, wrapping you in his arms. “Gonna turn us over.”

He does just that, the clench of your walls on his cock enough to make him delirious. After you shift to get comfortable, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pushes your hand deep into the mattress next to your head.

With his chest brushing yours, he moves, taking his time in pulling out only to push back in. Your head falls back against the mattress, your eyes closing. You squeeze his hand as hard as you can, doing your best to lift your hips to match his thrusts.

The room is full of moonlight, soft pleasure, and the sound of him pushing into your dripping entrance.

He whispers praises in your ear, telling you how good you make him feel and how you take him so well. The slickness of sweat makes your bodies stick together, and the room gets hotter and hotter the longer he’s seated deeply inside you.

The first time he had you, he barely had time to process what happened. This time, he’s basking in the moment, giving you gentle kisses over your face as he keeps a steady pace. He wants to stay here like this forever, but he knows better than to let that thought run rampant in his head.

He releases your hand—which ends up in his hair—as he reaches between the two of you and presses his fingers to your clit. You whine a little louder than you should, so Chenle silences you with his mouth. The position is a bit awkward for him, but the buck of your hips makes sure that’s the last thing on his mind.

Your body shudders beneath him, moans spilling into his mouth for him to swallow and keep for his own. He thrusts a little faster, eager to bring you to your edge and experience your pleasure for himself.

You whisper his name like a mantra, euphoria quickly claiming you as you drag your nails down his back. In the midst of that feeling and your walls clamping around him, he bursts into the condom, cursing under his breath.

Despite his dry throat, he manages to kiss along your neck while attempting to regain his breath.

“That,” he tells you. “Is how it should’ve been.”

“Feel free to do it like that all the time.” Your tired giggle fills his ears.

He squeezes your thigh gently as he pulls out of you, ready to groan at the loss. You lay there with a smile on your face as he disposes of the condom in the adjoining bathroom. When he returns to you, he’s surprised to find you under the blankets on your side.

When he raises an eyebrow at you, you shrug. “You can get dressed if you want. I’m too tired.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he climbs into bed next to you and pulls you close to him. Your skin is damp with sweat, but he’s sure his is worse. He kisses the top of your head, and just like so many nights before, he hums songs for you until you fall asleep.

Day 6 | June 6th

In the night, you curled further into him. His eyes are closed, but he’s been up for a while. Fingers trailing up and down your spine, he thinks he’s reached his peak. The summer sun amplified through the window warms his skin, but more importantly, it illuminates you and the softness of your features as you sleep.

The brightness blinds him, but he doesn’t mind. Not when his focal point is you.

He made love to you last night. All of his feelings were delivered to you on a silver platter and, just for a brief moment, he thinks he saw it back from you. Like there’s a part of you—however small—that wanted him the same way.

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hall wakes you, and you wrap your arm around him tighter.

“This is nice,” you murmur, kissing the base of his neck.

“I think so, too.”

“Do we have to get up?” You shake your head as if answering your own question.

He chuckles. “It might look weird if we don’t.”

“I need to shower.” You shift onto your back and run your hands down your face.

He uses the opportunity to move over you and kiss down your neck, finding your pulse quicker than it should be after just waking up. Nipping your skin to stop his smirk, he inhales your scent.

“You could always come with,” you offer, running your fingers through his hair.

“Now, that’ll be obvious.” He chuckles and pulls away from you, removing himself from the blanket as he stretches. When he looks back at you, you’ve already grabbed his T-shirt from the ground and are in the process of putting it on. He gets a brief glimpse of you. Slamming his eyes shut, he assumes nothing good will come of seeing your naked image in his mind over and over again.

The bed dips behind him as you climb over, draping your arms over his neck and kissing his cheek. “You should do it anyway.”

He snorts and pushes you away jokingly. With your signature grin plastered on your face, you make your way into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Once he hears the water starting, he drags himself over to his bag to get dressed. He decides on a pair of sweatpants and a black T-shirt, and on his way out of the room, Jeno is also heading for the kitchen.

Chenle avoids his eyes as much as possible, wondering if any of his escapade with you last night was audible for him or Jaemin. Chasing the thought out of his head, he goes straight for the water bottles in the fridge.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Mark asks, eating the watermelon Chaeyoung cut up a couple days back.

“She’s in the shower,” Chenle replies nonchalantly, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.

“You didn’t want to join her?” Heewon laughs from the side as she butters her toast.

He narrows his eyes in her direction. “And why would I do that?”

“Well, you guys do everything else together,” she replies.

That earns her a cackle from Hyuck, but Chenle shakes his head.

“We don’t do everything else together.”

“Right, you guys are just dating without the benefits of getting off.” Mark pretends to be lost in thought.

Chenle’s heart twists violently in his chest, nearly lurching him forward. He wants everything from you—anything you want to give him, he’d take without hesitation. Heewon scolds Mark quietly and smacks his arm, because apparently that was what was too far.

He half expects Jeno to pipe up and expose exactly how opposite your relationship with Chenle is now, but he stays silent. Hopefully, that means Jaemin and Jeno heard nothing from last night. Your sounds were for Chenle and Chenle only, and a part of him felt glory in that.

The teasing from the friend group never bothered him before, but with this new side of your relationship, he let the words sink in deep.

How exactly was he going to make it out of this unscathed?

Day 8 | June 8th

Both of you knew it was risky, but something about you had him bent way out of shape. The group was doing their yearly ice cream run in less than an hour, and all he cared about at the moment was being inside you.

He put you on the bathroom counter, your body next to falling off it if he wasn’t holding onto you so tightly. Without much warning, he enters you completely with one thrust. His hand covers your mouth, capturing the moan spilling past your lips. Your eyes roll back, and he swears that sight alone is almost enough to get him off.

You murmur his name against his palm, head lolling back.

“Sorry, Sunshine.” He nips your earlobe as he rocks his hips gently to help you adjust to his size. “We’ve gotta be fast.”

“‘M good,” you say, gripping tightly onto his shoulders.

He takes the hint, beginning his movements a bit quicker than he normally would. Even though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in days, the world sways around him as if he’s drunk. You’re what’s intoxicating him, and in the moments where you’re connected, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.

One hand rests on the small of your back, and the other stays on your mouth, desperate to finish but needing you to stay quiet. Whenever he thinks of being with you in this way, he tries to fuck you in the ways you deserve—make you feel so good you’re dreaming about it long after you’re done—but both of you are far too desperate right now to consider anything like that.

Your nails leave angry red crescents in his skin, but it only spurs him faster. His hips rutt against yours, his body craving the complete euphoria he’s only ever been able to accomplish with you.

His gaze meets yours, and he finds your eyebrows furrowed. Since he’s got such a firm grip on you, you move one of your hands and slide it down your body, watching him closely as if he’s going to stop you.

As soon as your fingers find your clit, you groan and your walls flutter around his cock. He curses, and his next sharp thrust has you whining.

“I’m so…” you trail off, body nearly falling limp in his grasp.

But just before you reach your high, the bedroom door opens, and there’s approximately two seconds before whoever walks in sees inside the bathroom. The next curse that falls from his lips is for two reasons—one, because all he needed was another minute, and he would’ve reached his high. Two, because he now has to figure out a way to make this look like anything except what it is.

He pulls out of you, readjusting your panties and guiding you off the counter before he tucks his painfully hard cock back into his sweats, condom and all.

“(Y/N)’s sick,” he calls out. “Give us a few minutes and we’ll come out okay? She’ll kill me if I let you see her like this.” He moves over to the door and closes it, locking it before whoever it is can see the mess you’ve turned him into.

“Oh, be fucking for real,” Chaeyoung’s voice says. “(Y/N), are you really sick? Or are you two—”

You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear her. Instead of letting Chenle answer, you pull your shirt down to cover yourself before cracking the door open.

“I’m okay. We’ll be out in like, two seconds.”

“You horny bitch.” Chaeyoung purses her lips. “Can’t stay off his dick for five minutes.”

Chenle feels his insides churning at that comment. For a moment, he’s sure she’s being serious, but then both of you burst into laughter, and Chenle’s blood cools.

“We would’ve been out already if you hadn’t interrupted us.” You pinch your fingers together. “I was this close.”

“Are you at least using condoms?” she asks in a hushed voice, turning the tips of Chenle’s ears bright pink.

“Yes, mom, now if you could go, I need to put some actual clothes on.” You shoo her away.

“The guys want ice cream. No dick until later,” she tells you, laughing as she walks out of the room.

You let out a sigh and close the door again, biting down on your bottom lip as you look at Chenle.

“Sorry, we don’t really have TMIs, so she…” You clear your throat.

“No, that’s…that’s good that you have someone to talk to about all of this that’s not me,” he says, walking up to you to put his hands on your hips and tug you close. “You think she’ll be mad if I just…”

He turns you so your back is to his chest, lips latching onto your neck as his touch trails down to the hem of your panties.

“I’d hate to leave you hanging when you were this close.” He tongues along your pulse, skimming below the hem of your panties.

“You’d better make it quick, Lele.” You lean your head back on his shoulder. “She’ll kill us.”

He grins smugly at the invitation, allowing his fingertips to graze lower until he finds your clit. You’re still soaked from being robbed of your high, so your body jerks at the sensation. He grinds against your ass, proving to you how badly he wants to be inside you.

“T-this is going to be embarrassingly fast.” You pant, rocking your hips back and forth. “I need more.” Your hands grip the edge of the countertop, pained whines escaping you.

He moves faster on your clit, and before he’s able to comprehend what’s happening, you squirm and bite down on your hand to stop your noises.

“Look at yourself, baby,” he whispers, his other hand sliding up to your throat to guide your face toward the mirror. “Look at how fucking good you look when I’m touching you.”

You inhale sharply, moving your own hand up to his to press his fingers in around your neck. He rubs you faster, taking his own initiative in squeezing you to control your breathing. Looking up at your reflection, he almost starts drooling at the sight of what he’s doing to you.

Your whines turn into breathless wheezes, and seconds later, you part your lips to let out a silent scream of pleasure as your insides clench around nothing.

He slows his circles to help you come down from your high, showering your shoulder and neck with kisses.

“Alright,” he whispers, retracting his touch from you. “We’d better get going.”

“But you didn’t—”

“You’ll make it up to me later.” He kisses you one last time. “You look so fucking sexy when I’m touching you.”

“Keep talking like that and we’ll never make it out of this bathroom,” you warn him.

You’re doing it on purpose.

Every year, the group goes to the same place for ice cream. Chenle’s been coming here ever since he was a young boy, but it’s been at least 5 years since he started bringing the rest of your friends, too. They have new experimental flavors, and it’s his mission to try all of them.

So, of course, he chooses one, and you choose a different one. The two of you are meant to be acting normally, but the way your lips close around his spoon has his mind spiraling. Not to mention how you make eye contact with him, and that damn gleam in your gaze is enough to make his cock jump in his pants.

How did he ever live without being inside you before?

“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung tosses her arms over the two of you, grinning widely before lowering her voice. “If you don’t want people to know, you’re doing an awful job. You’re looking at each other like you ingested the worst Harry Potter love potion imaginable.”

The word love throws him off track, and he quickly takes his spoon away from you and side steps to run his fingers through his hair. He has no idea what’s gotten into him. Usually, he’s pretty good about this kind of stuff. And to be honest, before he started messing around with you, he wasn’t nearly as horny as he is now.

No, because now, he feels like he needs to be touching you constantly, and if he’s not, he’s wasting valuable time.

He tries his best to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. At some point, you’ll have to go back to being just his best friend. It pains him that this can’t be forever, but at the end of the day, he has you. Whether or not it’s completely is a different story.

Everyone takes their usual table outside, and you sit between him and Chaeyoung. The guys converse, the girls laugh over something, but Chenle isn’t joining either conversation. Worry sinks deep in his gut instead. He wonders if it’s okay for him to be as nonchalant about the two of you having sex as he is.

You’re his best friend. Regardless of his feelings toward you, he should’ve done the mature, right thing and declined this offer.

But he’s in too deep now, and all it takes is one wide smile from you to tilt the earth on its axis.

For the next couple hours at this ice cream parlor, things are back to normal. He suppresses his urges the way he always has. His mind lingers on you, especially when your voice and your laugh echoes in his ears, and this time…

This time, he knows what he has to do.

Day 15 | June 15th

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous.” You close his bedroom door behind you and cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning.

“Don’t play stupid.” Your foot taps anxiously on the ground. “One week, we’re all over each other, and now you’ve barely even touched me since Chaeyoung almost walked in on us. Is that what’s going on? You’re weirded out that she knows things about us?”

“Us.” He scoffs, tugging his fingers through his hair. “What us, (Y/N)?”

You visibly recoil, hurt playing out on your face as Chenle instantly regrets his words. Even then, he’s not going to back down from this.

“You’re starting to piss me off.”

“I…I don’t want sex.” He shrugs.

You wet your lips and narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend what he means by that. “That’s just—like, that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to have sex with me, Le, but if our friendship is going to survive this, I need you to be honest and open with me.”

“The sex isn’t the problem.”

“Oh.” Your voice waivers, and he immediately wishes he never opened his mouth. A short laugh of disbelief escapes you.

“It’s not you, either,” he quickly adds, grabbing onto your hand. “It’s really not. I…I still need my best friend, though. And it feels like I’m losing that side of you because things are changing. You said nothing would change.”

“I haven’t changed,” you tell him. “Everything I do is exactly what I’ve done last year or the year before that. I’ve been teasing you a little, yeah, but I thought you liked it. Am I an idiot?”

Chenle’s chest deflates. “No. No, you’re not an idiot. I’m an asshole.” He pulls you to his chest and cradles the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been acting like a little kid. All I want is my best friend, and I’m scared that after all of this is over, I’m gonna lose you. I don’t know how to live without you. You know that.”

“You’d only have to worry about ruining our friendship if the dick was bad.” Despite the thickness of your voice, your humor breaks through.

He snorts and pushes you away, rolling his eyes. “Dude, for real?”

“I’m just being honest.” You tug on his arm, and for a moment, he sees a glimpse of your previous friendship.

Maybe everything can work out.

“As your best friend, I think we should watch that movie with Mark and Chae.” You grab his hand and play with his fingers.

“Okay.” He nods. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That’s how he ends up curled up with you on the couch, your back pressed to his chest and snuggled up with a blanket. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time, the steadiness of your breathing almost enough to lull him to sleep. The screen plays some sort of superhero movie, but he’s not too interested in it. He’s more interested in the way a small sound tumbles from your lips as you turn toward him.

He holds you close, smiling to himself at the warmth you create. When he glances back up, he meets Chae’s gaze. The woman scans over the two of you, her expression warm. Chenle thinks he imagined it for a moment since he’s so tired, but Chae gives him a thumbs up and turns back to the screen.

Day 16 | June 16th

“Chenle, can I talk to you for a minute?” Chaeyoung asks, leaning on the archway leading into the kitchen.

You went with Heewon and Jaemin to the store, so he had nothing to do otherwise. He nods and follows her into the other room. Grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, he tiredly gives her all of his attention.

“What’s up?”

“I saw the way you looked at her yesterday,” she begins, tapping her fingernails against the carpet. “So either you know how you feel or you’re in denial, but you need to tell her. One or both of you are going to get hurt by the end of this if you’re not honest with each other.”

“I appreciate the advice, Chae, but I’m not sure you have all of the facts.” Chenle crosses his arms over his chest.

“And what am I missing?” she asks.

“Honestly, you may know some things, but you’ll never know all of it,” he replies. “It’ll never be an easy situation to digest, but we’re best friends. We’re mature enough to handle this.”

“You realize if this all falls apart, it’s going to fuck up the rest of the group, too?” She frowns. “You guys aren’t really thinking this through.”

Right when Chenle goes to answer her, the front door opens, and he hears your conversation with Heewon spill through the house.

“Thanks for your concerns.” Chenle nods once before turning around to find you.

Day 17 | June 17th

Chenle throws his head back, hand tangled in your hair as you take his cock in your mouth. He sits on the edge of the bed and you kneel before him, drooling over his length. Your moans vibrate around him. This is the first time you’ve sucked him off, but he’s already found out this is as addicting as everything else.

“That’s it.” He allows his eyes to flutter shut and his eyebrows furrow the closer he gets. “You always take my cock so well, Sunshine.”

You whine, and his hips buck, slamming his tip into the back of your throat. You constrict around him, and his grip on your head tightens. God, he can’t fucking think straight around you. Your nails dig into his thighs, and despite choking around him, you continue bobbing your head up and down.

The base of his length starts to tingle, and he tugs your hair gently. “Gonna cum, baby, you don’t have to—fuck.”

Your response is to simply hollow your cheeks, the lewd sounds around the two of you almost loud enough to make him worry about others hearing it. The suction from your mouth has him approaching his high rapidly, and once you reach up to touch his balls, he cums in white spurts deep in your throat.

Day 18 | June 18th

“Chenle,” you whisper, leaning closer to him.

The summer wind brushes past the two of you sitting on the little porch connected to his bedroom. It’s the middle of the night, and the only thing covering you is a soft blanket. He has his own, but he regrets that. He wants to be wrapped up with you. The waves crash to the shoreline, the salty, ocean scent infiltrating everything around him.

“Yeah?”

“This is my favorite summer,” you tell him.

“Me too.” He squeezes your arm. “I’d stay just like this forever if I could.”

You make him open his arms before shifting yourself onto his lap and covering him with your blanket as you grind your bare body down onto his.

“What’s the likelihood they hear us out here?” you ask, leaning in to kiss along his neck.

“They’ve got a better chance of hearing us inside than this…” he trails off, wondering if he should really allow something like this to happen.

But soon enough, you kiss him for real. And when your lips are working on his, he’s inherently weak for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden, and once it does, you line him up with your entrance.

“We don’t have a condom,” he chokes out, gripping your ass.

“Pull out when you’re about to cum, then,” you tell him. “If that’s okay?”

His hand finds the nape of your neck, pulling your mouth to his to seal his fate with a kiss. He guides you down on his cock, groaning at the feeling of taking you raw. You don’t even give yourself time to adjust, instead working your way through your sensitivity by bouncing on him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he reminds you. “Look at how well you take my cock.”

He’s learned so much about you during this short time, but he loves knowing what makes you crumble within minutes. His fingers wrap around your throat, and as he puts the perfect amount of pressure, your eyes roll and your hips work faster.

He tightens his grip, and your whine is interrupted. You show him no mercy, lifting and falling with such precision he wants to fill you up with his load.

The blanket is secure on your grip draping off of Chenle’s shoulders, so you nearly fall against him when his fingers connect with your clit. He’s teetering close to the edge, but he knows he has to pull out. No way is he cumming before you.

Your arousal makes him glide against your bud effortlessly, and he squeezes your throat harder at the same time.

“Chenle.” You gasp, pace changing as you get closer to your high. “Please cum inside. Need to feel your cum dripping out of m—fuck.” Your voice breaks as he thrusts up hard, hitting your spot. A broken moan escapes, nearly cut off by his grip on you, and your walls clamp down on his cock.

He watches you as he spurts his load and paints your insides, but all he sees is a blissed out smile and your heaving chest.

You slump against him and hum quietly. He grabs his blanket and wraps it around both of you, not wanting to leave you just yet. The summer breeze sweeps across the back of his neck, chilling the sweaty dampness.

He wants to tell you so badly.

He loves you. He wants to love you forever, but maybe he’ll only get these fleeting moments.

What a cruel, cruel summer this has become.

Day 19 | June 19th

The days pass so quickly. It’s been eighteen days since he first made you his, and all he wants is to make it last forever. The whole group goes to a movie theater, hopping between different rooms and films to catch a glimpse of everything that’s recently hit the big screens.

But he can’t take his eyes off of you.

The way you smile so widely in his direction. How all of your friends are so used to him being all over you.

Your laugh echoes around in his brain, and when the poor employee realizes what you’re doing, they try to stop you to figure out who you are. Chenle’s giggles join yours as he grasps your hand and pulls you toward the exit.

The two of you run, and with your fingers laced in his, you’re somehow separated from your friend group.

Once you’re outside, he presses your back to the brick of the building, kissing you in the midst of laughing. His hand latches onto the fabric of your shirt at the small of your back, and he works his lips on yours like magic.

How is he ever supposed to go back to normal after having you like this?

“Come on,” you tell him, grabbing his wrist and leading him away. “We’ve gotta find them.”

But he knows that no matter where you go, he’ll follow.

Day 20 | June 20th

He lost track of how many times his body has tangled with yours. How many times you’ve quietly, desperately called out his name while he takes you to new worlds you’ve never seen before.

He yearns to be grounded, to plant his feet back on Earth, but how does he do that when the universe that is you infiltrates his very being? All the stars and planets and milky ways and meteors float around in your dazed irises, and he caresses your face.

He loves you. He wants to tell you. He needs you to love him back.

Day 21 | June 21st

“Okay, this one is easy.” Donghyuck holds his hand up to reign in everyone’s excitement. “Never have I ever…kissed someone in the friend group.”

You glance at Chenle once, and he shrugs, so both of you lift your bottles. The point of this game? Get as drunk as possible. Every time someone says something you’ve done, you have to drink. Which means everyone is thoroughly surprised when every single person around the table sips from their cups.

“We’re the worst friend group,” Mark says, nearly hissing at the taste of the liquid burning down his throat. “We said ‘friends’ and turned it into an orgy.”

Heewon glares at him. “Dude.”

“Sorry.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

But soon enough, six pairs of eyes are on you and Chenle, and he immediately feels his face burning.

“You two want to explain?” Hyuck asks.

“Is everyone else explaining?” Chenle quirks an eyebrow, watching as Donghyuck purses his lips.

“No explanations unless you ask more questions,” you pipe up.

Chenle hopes that’ll divert the conversation from the two of you. His hand brushes over your knee under the table, and you send him a small smile.

“Fine,” Mark says. “Never have I ever kissed my best friend.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees you grab your bottle, so he doesn’t hesitate to do the same. He takes a fairly large drink, forcing the alcohol down his throat to make this night less painful.

Chaeyoung watches the two of you closely, and the rest of the group seems hyped up on adrenaline, like they’ve caught you and him in a lie of sorts. This news can’t be that shocking to them. Or maybe they’re all pining at the idea of being right.

But they’re not—you’re not in love with Chenle. Meaning, they’d be completely wrong.

Jaemin, who’s already had a bit too much from the hour of this game you’ve already been playing, laughs as he points at Chenle.

“I’ve got one.” He nods slowly, the smirk spreading across his face as he leans on Jeno’s shoulder. “Never have I ever had sex with my best friend.”

Your gasp is only audible to Chenle and Chaeyoung, who sits on the opposite side of you. Both you and Chenle are already holding your glasses, and you look at him, silently asking him if that’s something you should admit to the group.

You’re incredibly stiff, but Chenle watches as you slowly lift your hand. Before you get far, Chaeyoung smacks the back of Jaemin’s head.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “You can’t ask them things like that!”

Your cup lands back on the table louder than you planned. Chenle analyzes you, the stiffness of your back and the way you glance down at your lap instead of the rest of the group. His instinct makes him want to pull you away from them to somewhere you’ll be more comfortable.

“Oh, come on! They were about to admit to it.” Jaemin lets out a dramatic sigh. “Did you see the hesitation? They were seconds away from finally telling us if they’ve done it.”

Your hand lands on Chenle’s thigh, and he immediately knows what that means. A switch inside of him turns, and anger bubbles in his stomach. You’re his best friend, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else wants to know—the last thing he’ll let happen is any of them attempting to badger you into admitting something you don’t want the rest of the group to know.

“We’re all friends, why does it matter if we know or not?” Jeno agrees. “We’ve all been waiting for them to—”

“Knock it off,” Chenle deadpans, his voice dropping octaves. He leans forward, his arm crossing over you and his other hand gripping his bottle tighter. At the change in tone, everyone looks at him in shock, excitement fading into a nervous energy.

“Lighten up,” Donghyuck says. “They’re just joking—”

“Well, I’m not,” he replies, furrowing his eyebrows. “The hell’s wrong with you guys? You can’t tell when you’re making someone uncomfortable? Neither of us owe you anything, if you didn’t know that. You don’t need to know everything.”

“Okay,” Jaemin mumbles. “Didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”

“That’s because you don’t think, Jaemin. If anything happens between us that we want to share, we’ll share. But until then, mind your fucking business—”

“Lele,” you mutter to him, reaching forward to grasp his wrist in front of you. “Lele, it’s okay. They get it.”

He instantly relaxes at your words, running his tongue over his teeth as he rests back in his seat. You grasp his hand beneath the table and intertwine your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb against his skin.

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Jaemin says, fidgeting with his hands.

You give him an awkward smile and a nod. Chenle senses the atmosphere won’t return to the chaotic laughter it’d recently been filled with, so he wonders what’ll happen if he lets everyone know he’s taking you to bed.

When everyone resumes as much conversation as they can, Chenle leans in close to you to whisper in your ear. “Do you want to go to bed?”

It’s well past midnight, and the alcohol is starting to settle in his system. He is tired. You run your fingers through your hair and nod. He doesn’t say anything to the rest of the group, but you mutter something to Chaeyoung, who gives you a sympathetic smile and a nod.

Although he refrains from physically leading you away, he feels everyone’s eyes on the two of you. It shouldn’t upset him as much as it does. Plus, he wouldn’t mind all that much if they knew, but seeing the way it bothered you suddenly had him on ten. There was no other solution other than to put them all in their place.

Once you’re in the confines of his room, he pulls you into a hug. You melt in his embrace, your body basically limp. He rubs up and down your back, wishing he could take that feeling away from you for good. You deserve the best, and he wants to give it to you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t know why they’d fucking do that.”

You shake your head. “They’d know eventually, right? We wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret forever.”

“They should never push something like that. They’re supposed to be our friends, (Y/N). You were uncomfortable.”

“Le,” you say, pulling back to look at him. “As much as I appreciated you standing up for me, all I want right now is my best friend, okay? Just…be that guy, please.”

Both of you change into your pajamas, and then climb into bed. If you wanted him to be your best friend, he could do that. Hell, he’s spent his whole life basically doing it, so as he pulls you to his chest, it’s like muscle memory.

Everywhere Chenle is, you’re right there next to him. Never behind, never ahead, always beside.

“Chenle,” you whisper.

“Yeah, Sunshine?” He strokes your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I…Can you be my best friend and still kiss me?” you ask. “I don’t want anything else. Just kissing.”

He lifts your chin so you’re looking at him and gives you the faintest smile. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Your eyes swim with all sorts of emotions, and while he’d love to sit there and analyze each one of them, you allow them to flutter shut in anticipation of his kiss.

He can’t recall a time where he’s kissed you so gently, as if you might shatter beneath his touch. Placing his hand on the small of your back, he presses you flush against him while his mouth works so effortlessly on yours.

There’s no heat behind it. The only sounds are of the rustling of his sheets, the soft sighs, and his quiet compliments between breathing breaks. He allows himself to get lost in this, in the way it feels so different from every other kiss he’s shared with you.

Those kisses all lead to sex. They were a bridge to being physical, but now all he wants is to lie in this bed with you forever, connected in such a basic and innocent way.

“You make all of it better,” you murmur, inhaling deeply. “Everything I am is for you, Zhong Chenle.”

“And you’ve built me from the ground up,” he replies. “I was created for you. I don’t know who I am without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

His heart runs rampant, doing all sorts of backflips in his chest. He starts to sweat even though he’s not physically exerting himself, and he desperately feels like he needs to grasp at something. If he doesn’t, he’ll fall…but can he even more than he already has?

Is falling in love something that happens gradually, continually, or is it all at once? Once you’ve fallen in love, can you still progress further into it, or is that feeling at its peak?

He thinks back to the first time he realized he wanted more from you. It’s been over a year since he admitted it to himself, and the person he was during that time never would believe that this is his life now.

“You promise?” Chenle’s nearly breathless, your words robbing him of the oxygen he needs to survive.

You smile ever so softly, nodding slowly. “I’m yours. Always.”

The promise sinks through his skin and into his bloodstream, flowing all the way through his body and infiltrating his brain. It means so much more to him than it means to you, he knows that, but he kisses you again anyway.

He kisses you over and over and over again. By the time the sun comes up in the morning, neither of you have slept, but your lips are swollen and your eyes are drooping.

No matter what, he’ll hold you to your word.

Day 22 | June 22nd

Two coffee cups steam from the table on Chenle’s patio. He sits, slumped, on the padded bench with you next to him, legs thrown over his lap. His thumb rubs your thigh. Exhaustion has yet to kick in, especially as he looks at you. Your hair is mussed, his T-shirt hanging off your shoulder and your shorts hiking up your thighs. Everything about this is domestic, and it makes his heart flutter.

He stayed up all night with you. The sunrise over the water leaves a calming wave cascading over him, and he gets an odd feeling that it’s all going to be okay.

He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.

You bring the coffee cup up to your lips, sighing at the taste. He made it for you. But not only that, he made it the way you’ve always loved it. You told him once, and he never forgot. Every detail he learns about you is immediately stored in his memory.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. “That way, they’ll leave us alone. And whatever we’re doing would get a little easier.”

“Would it?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“None of this is easy.” Chenle gulps, wishing he had the filter necessary to make him bite his tongue right now. “What we’re doing isn’t easy. We don’t even know what it is, so why would we try to explain it to other people?”

“Oh.” You drink more, tired gaze turning to the ocean in the distance.

“It’s not a bad thing. I’m just being honest.”

“Yeah, no, honesty is good,” you agree. “You’re right.”

“(Y/N), I—”

“No.” You hold up your hand. “We said the end of the summer, so I get it. I’d rather wait anyway.”

He wants to grab you by the shoulders and shake you, telling you all the things he loves about you and how badly he wants you to be his forever.

“I’m gonna need six more cups of coffee.” You swing your legs off of him, and leave him sitting by himself, caught up in the warm, summer breeze the same way he’s caught up in you.

Day 25 | June 25th

Going out to the bar was the worst idea ever. The more you drank, the more you wanted to be all over Chenle. He didn’t mind it, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to touch you in ways that would have every saint covering their eyes.

You turn to face him, flashing lights reflecting off your skin as you dance with him. His brain is so clouded, so foggy, but he remembers you kissing him. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you closer and doing his best to maintain a rhythm with you. For a moment, he forgets that all of your friends are here too, but he has high hopes they’ll be too drunk to recall.

You pull away, jaw dropped as you remove his grasp on your and quickly stumble toward the exit. He curses under his breath, knowing he can’t let you go alone in a state like this. The world is tilting around him as he follows you, but he refuses to let you out of his sight. The protective urges come forward.

“(Y/N)!” he calls out to you as the two of you make it outside. “Hey! Stop it.”

“Leave me alone, Chenle.” The thickness of your voice has every last bit of alcohol drying up from his system. He jogs to catch up to you, grabbing your wrist and whirling you around to look at him.

Your eyes are bloodshot, tears falling down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” he whispers, tugging you to his chest. “God, are you okay?”

“‘M fine,” you reply, but your body shudders in his grasp.

“Come on.” He scoffs. “I didn’t stop being your best friend just because we’re sleeping together.”

You put your palm on your forehead, cursing under your breath. “I just kissed you in there. In front of everyone.”

“Yeah.” Chenle shrugs. “What’s wrong with that?”

“It was supposed to be simple,” you murmur, tugging on your hair with your fingers. “We were supposed to have fun this summer, and everything’s fucking falling apart—”

He recoils. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re gonna leave me.” Your voice breaks, and his heart right along with it.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“It’s all just—” you cut yourself off, clutching Chenle’s shirt. “Too much. I want you so fucking bad all the time.”

“Me too, baby, you know that.” He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, I’ll always be right next to you. Promise, Sunshine.”

His own eyes well at the sight, but he wonders what really brought all of this on. He presses his lips to your forehead, allowing them to linger there a moment too long. Pulling you close, his gaze turns toward the building, where Jaemin and Heewon stand. He gives them the best, watery glare he can, and they quickly shuffle back inside.

It’ll never be him who leaves you. If anyone were going to run away, it will absolutely be you.

And that crushes his heart even further. Beats it to a tiny pulp and straight up purees it until it’s mush.

He takes you home, puts you in bed, and spends half the night out on his patio, leaning on the wooden railing and watching the waves crash into the midnight shore.

The view from here gives him a glimpse of the driveway, and the rest of the group pulls in not even an hour later. He makes eye contact with Jaemin, and while the others head inside, Jaemin approaches him with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” Jaemin says softly. “You got a few minutes?”

Chenle looks inside at your sleeping form and gently closes the door with a sigh. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Look, man, we all get it.” Jaemin’s feet thud quietly on the creaky stairs as he makes his way up, stopping and leaning his back against the railing as he analyzes Chenle. “We love you guys. A lot. And something weird has been going on, and it’s not like we don’t notice.”

“A lot of weird has been going on,” Chenle says, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. It’s just us now.”

The other man purses his lips, taking a deep breath of salty air. “You love her, don’t you?”

“I wish it were as simple as that.” He clasps his hands together, wondering how much he should say.

“It can be,” Jaemin replies. “You think she doesn’t love you?”

“I know she doesn’t,” he insists. “You don’t know her like I do.”

His friend nods, as if he’s conceding with what Chenle’s saying. But he knows better—Jaemin is good at these things. Regardless of whatever happened a few nights back, Jaemin is insightful when it comes to relationships despite not having much experience in that department.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, okay? But I know something is. And I notice (Y/N) talking to Chae a lot, but you never talk to anyone about serious things except for her. It’s okay to be confused and to want to talk about things.”

“She didn’t want anyone to know.” Chenle lets out a defeated sigh, allowing his head to hang between his shoulders.

“To know what?”

“We…” Chenle considers biting his tongue. At the end of the day, he knows he can trust Jaemin, and that he’d never do anything to betray Chenle’s trust, but the words leaving his mouth feel like a betrayal to you. “We’ve been hooking up, I guess.”

“Oh, like…more than once.” Jaemin blinks his shock away.

“Yeah. Like, the whole summer so far.” He runs his hands down his face. “We’d never done anything before, and I honestly didn’t think it would be a possibility. And then we did. And it was fast and not at all what I wanted it to be and just—sorry, Jaem.”

“No, no.” He gestures for him to continue. “Let it out. It’s good for you to process these things.”

“I thought I really fucked up by doing that, you know? She didn’t stay in my room with me that night, she didn’t even talk to me until the next day. Which maybe doesn’t seem bad, but it is for us. But then she said she wanted to do it again, and I…well, I obviously didn’t say no. Maybe I should have.” He picks at his nails, fighting hard with the lump lodged in his throat.

“Honestly, I’m having trouble figuring out why you won’t tell her how you feel.”

“If I tell her and lose her because of it, I genuinely don’t know how I’d live without her. She’s been in my life forever, Jaem. It’s not her fault I can’t keep myself in check,” he says.

“If she doesn’t realize you’re in love with her, she’s really fucking dense.” Jaemin chuckles to himself. “And you’re equally as dense for thinking that she doesn’t love you.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is.”

“How?”

“Chenle, you’ve spent every day with her this summer. And I’m not going to pretend to know your business, but I’m sure all the alone time you’ve had hasn’t been innocent. Nobody in their right mind starts sleeping with their best friend without at least a little bit of a worry that they’ll fall in love. Come on, you two are practically dating already anyway.”

“It’s hard, okay?” Chenle brushes the other man off. “We said we’d talk about it at the end of the summer, so I’m gonna save my heart for a few more days.”

“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.” Jaemin taps the railing once more before he starts his descent down the stairs. “You won’t get what you want if you’re sitting around and watching it pass you by.”

Day 26 | June 26th

He told himself he would hold off on any more physical stuff before he was able to talk to you about what happened last night, but that was…apparently…short lived. Your chest presses against his, both of you on your sides as he gently massages your ass. You made it a point this morning to grind back against him until he was hard and aching. He’s not entirely sure how he’s avoided exactly this for so long.

He pulls your leg up on his waist, stretching you as he rubs his cock against your folds. You moan into his mouth as your slickness coats him, signaling to him that you’re more than ready to take everything he has to offer.

After a few moments of shifting, his tip enters you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he thrusts the head of his cock in and out. Chills already break out along his body, his palms sweaty as he teases you.

“Please,” you whimper. “I need more.”

“Greedy girl,” he scolds you, slowly pushing all the way in. “Pretty baby just wants to be full, huh?”

“Only you,” you mumble, nearly incoherently as you try to rock your hips. “Only greedy for you.”

Under normal circumstances, he’d care about the sound of the bed squeaking, or the way the headboard taps the wall with each of his thrusts, but all he’s thinking about is fucking good this position allows him to feel you.

After fucking you raw, the condom almost hinders the feeling of you clenching around him, but he tries to focus on giving you as much pleasure as he can.

“C’mon, tell me what you want.” Chenle bucks his hips hard, making you whine.

“Touch me. Wanna cum.” Your head lolls forward, forehead smacking into his chest.

“Touch you where, baby?” He pushes you further. “You’re already soaking my cock, what else could you need?”

“Lele, please—”

“I’ll stop,” he warns you. “Neither of us will finish if you don’t use your words.”

Dazed, you let out a frustrated moan, and he smirks at you.

“M-my clit,” you whisper. “Please touch me there.”

Your arousal squelches around him with each of his thrusts, and you squirm as you yearn for your orgasm that’s just out of reach. He considers teasing you more, but you look so fucking good like this, walls pulsing and begging for release, he can’t deny you.

His hand snakes down your body, and he kisses your jawline. “Don’t cum ‘til I say you can, okay? I’d hate to punish you when you’ve done so well so far.”

“If y—fuck.” You cut yourself off when his finger comes in contact with your swollen, aching bud, and your nails scratch down his back. He knows you won’t be able to hold back if he touches you in the right way.

“You gotta wait for me, baby, I’m almost there.” He thrusts harder, the creak of the bed becoming more prominent as he continues barely rubbing your clit.

“Lele.” You clench your eyes shut. “I c-can’t, oh my God.”

“But you’re so good.” He slams his hips against yours. “So fucking good, just a little longer.”

Your entire body shakes. He didn’t think he’d ever find something like this so arousing, but when you look at him and your eyes are welled with tears from your need, he curses, thrusts one more time, and cums hard into the condom when he’s buried deep inside you.

He can’t remember the last time he came this much, and he wishes he didn’t have this stupid fucking piece of rubber on. The idea of painting your insides white has him thrusting through his overstimulation to bring you to your peak.

He applies more pressure to your clit, pinching it, rubbing it until you bite down on his shoulder hard as your walls and body convulse in his grasp. Cursing at the jolt of pain he feels, he moans when he realizes how it adds to his pleasure.

“Holy shit,” he whispers as you let go of him.

“Asshole.” You laugh, attempting to catch your breath.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, scratching up and down your back. “It felt like you liked it.”

“Yeah, I hope that bite mark scars permanently.”

“Laying claim on me, are you?”

Oh, how he wishes you would.

Day 28 | June 28th

Today is arguably Chenle’s favorite day of the summer. Ironic, since it’s the second to last full day he has with all of his friends, but the tradition set is what makes him think this way.

A bonfire crackles in front of him, his arm over your shoulder as everyone stands around the climbing orange flame. The goal is each person writes all of their regrets down from the past year, and what they hope to accomplish over the next, and then they burn it. It’s an odd positivity ritual that none of them have ever skipped.

Chenle wrote his down the night before after you fell asleep.

Regrets:

I regret not telling (Y/N) I love her. Again.

I regret not seizing every opportunity that presents itself to me.

I regret wasting my life away while everything I’ve ever wanted is right in front of my eyes.

I regret shutting down and allowing my friends to help me.

I regret not advancing in my chosen career path.

Hopes:

I hope I will be able to express myself thoroughly.

I hope I will be able to tell (Y/N) my feelings.

I hope those feelings will be reciprocated.

I hope, above all, that she’s happy.

He glances around, taking a look at everyone around him. Jaemin, Jeno, Heewon, Donghyuck, Mark, Chaeyoung, and even you. Each person has had such a fundamental hand in the making of the person he is today, and a lot of times, he takes that for granted.

“Okay, who wants to go first?” Mark asks.

“I will,” you say, stepping up.

Chenle watches you with adoration, wishing he could move forward with you, but knowing there are some times where you have to shine on your own.

“Another year.” You clear your throat. “All of you mean the world to me. You helped me when I was twelve and in desperate need of a confidence boost, and you help me now at twenty-three when sometimes all I need is a drink and a cookie.”

A chorus of laughter falls from everyone.

“Mark, thank you for all of the midday pep-talks and reality checks. Jeno, thank you for being the comedic relief right when I always need it. Jaemin, thank you for always knowing what to say, no matter the situation. Chae, thank you for saving me from myself more times than I can count. Hyuck, thank you for knowing exactly when I want ice cream and a rant session. Heewon, thank you for never judging me despite my shit decisions.”

You turn back to Chenle, the gleam in your eye reflecting the billions of stars from the sky above.

“Chenle, thank you for never underestimating me and for knowing me better than I know myself. For all of the years we’ve had, and all the ones we will have.”

“You’ve got all of mine,” Chenle says to you.

With a final grin, you take your folded up piece of paper out of your pocket and toss it into the fire, and everyone watches as it burns to ash. Once you’re satisfied, you move back to Chenle and hug him tightly.

He deflates in your grasp, cradling the back of your head and relishing in the weight of your words.

Mark goes next, then Hyuck, Chae, Heewon, Jaemin, and Jeno, leaving Chenle to be the last one. He purses his lips, twirling his own note in his fingers as he glances over his shoulder at you.

It takes him a while to think of what he wants to say despite the fact he’s been looking forward to this since the vacation started. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smokiness of the air mixed with ocean salt, and really, truly thinks of how he’s made it as far as he has.

“Well, guys, another year down.” He shakes his head as he thinks of how fast time passes. “Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys. We get busy throughout the year, but I’m really happy we get to spend this time here and that we’re able to be together this entire month. Everyone has their unique roles in this friend group, and it’d be incredibly off if any one of us weren’t here. So, my thank you is for all of you, for being there for me and making this little bunch into a family. ‘Cause that’s what you guys are. You’re my family.”

He glances back at you much like you had done to him, and he’s met with your dazzling smile. His nerves calm at the sight, and he chews the inside of his cheek as he tosses his paper into the flame.

It’s like he physically feels the hurt, regret, and carelessness from the past year lift off his shoulders, intertwine with the smoke, and disappear. He feels lighter, like he can take on the world. And in this moment, when he sees you staring at him with such adoration, he knows that now is the moment.

No time will ever be the right time, and he’ll never have courage if he doesn’t push himself.

He walks back to you, hands in his pockets. “(Y/N), can I talk to you over there for a minute?”

You nod, and as he guides you a safe distance away, he meets Jaemin’s gaze. The grin of approval is all he needs, and the other man makes sure the friend group is paying attention to him instead of you and Chenle.

“What’s up?” you ask, tilting your head. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He pauses and reaches over to grab your hand. “I just…One of my regrets last year was not having courage, and not being able to ask for the things I want because I wasn’t…ready for them, I guess.”

You nod, urging him to continue.

“You’re my best friend. All of this stuff we’ve been through this summer, I need you to know that’ll never change no matter what. If I didn’t have you in my life, I think I’d be screwed.” He chuckles, the nerves gnawing away at his throat and making his voice shake. “This has been the best month of my life, honestly, but I shouldn’t have gone into something like this without being completely transparent.”

To that, you frown, but wait for him to continue.

He takes a moment to work up the strength to tell you, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His hands shake, and he feels faint, but he knows it’s now or never. He can’t let you leave this place for another year without knowing the truth.

“I…I’m in love with you. And I have been for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin this. When all of this started, I wanted to tell you no because I thought I’d end up getting hurt because of it all. And maybe I still will, but at least now you’ll know the truth.”

He’s not sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t you starting to laugh. His gaze darts back up to yours, and your head is in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “If that’s not what you wanted, we can still be—”

“Zhong Chenle, you are far too dense for your own good.” You beam at him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss.

He’s in shock at first, but after a second, he’s pulling you as close to him as possible. You swallow his sigh of relief, and when he moves back, he sees the tear streaks down your face.

“Hey, none of that,” he whispers, wiping them away.

“I love you, Chenle,” you tell him. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so fucking long—”

You cut yourself off by connecting your lips to his again, giggles interrupting you every so often.

The rest of the group cheers and yells by the fire, clearly not one of them surprised by this outcome. He leads you back to them, fingers interlocked tightly and a permanent smile etched on his face.

For the rest of the night, he doesn’t let you go. He holds you close, kisses you all over your face, and squeezes you.

He loves you.

He’s in love with you, and you’re not going anywhere.

If this is the cruelest summer he ever has to endure, he’s more than ready for the rest of them.

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #chenle smut #chenle fluff #chenle angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #chenle x reader #chenle imagine #chenle imagines

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joonsmagicshop · 3 months

Text

Wait For Me?

Summary: Yoongi has to leave you for two whole weeks because of work. He asks you to wait for him and you get a very naughty idea, what if while you wait for him...he waits for you too

Paring: Yoongi/Reader

Work Count: 8K

Rating: M/18+

Tags: smut, sub Yoongi, slight dom Yoongi, Dom reader, not cuming for two weeks. desperate Yoongi, dirty talk, mentions of Yoongi's balls (We have all seen the bulge pics), video call masturbation, eating pussy, Yoongi is a whiny boy, reader calls him baby boy and gives him pet names.

Authors Note: Tag list people I am so sorry!!!!! I was fixing my tumblr and completely deleted this fic on accident so this is a repost. Also this is filth like this is absolutely top five filthiest things I have written (so far) so please enjoy

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

As you were about to take the chocolate chip muffins out of the oven your phone vibrated loudly against the countertop.

You hastily took them out, knowing how easy it would be to get distracted by your phone and burn the surprise you worked on for your boyfriend Yoongi.

You placed them on the stovetop to cool and quickly shucked off the bright blue oven mits Yoongi had bought you last Christmas and you picked up your phone to see a message from him.

Yoongi: Sorry darling looks like we have a meeting that is going longer than we thought. I’ll be home later. I’ll pick up something for dinner though

You frown when you read the message as you check the clock, it’s already five and Yoongi should have been on his way home.

You knew what you were getting into dating Min Yoongi of BTS and while you had assured him time and time again you were okay with him working long hours, being gone for days even months at a time and you were okay with being hidden for your own safety, sometimes it still made you sad how little time you got to spend with him.

You: It’s okay Yoongs. You pick up dinner I already made dessert so we are even ;)

Yoongi: Is this a euphemism or did you actually make dessert… I do remember promising to eat you out after we couldn’t wait to fuck last time

You: Gonna have to come home and find out sweetness, though I like the way you think and I’m holding you to that promise ;)

You felt yourself blush as you slowly took the now-cooled muffins out of the tin and began to place them in a plastic container.

Yoongi: Fuck.

You shake your head with a small smile on your face as you make your way back to the couch. You gather up your big blanket and drape it over your bare legs as you open your book to the page it was on before the timer dinged. You figured you might as well get settled in while you waited for Yoongi.

Yoongi: Well I know what’s on the menu for dessert ;) But what do you want me to pick up for dinner?

You blush when you read his message and feel a giddiness spread throughout your veins.

You: Whatever you like sweetness. I’m providing dessert anyway so your choice.

Yoongi: Babe you're going to make me hard in this meeting

You: I can’t help it if I like flustering my boy. Love it when you get all blushy and hard over something as simple as eating pussy.

Yoongi: Namjoon is shooting me death glares because I can’t concentrate you minx.

You giggle again and send him a winky face before locking your phone and opening your book with a satisfied smile.

Two hours later you hear the front door open and you tilt your head back to see Yoongi standing there in a plain white teeshirt and sweats. His hair is long and falling in front of his exquisite face and you put your bookmark in your book and saunter over to him.

You help him by taking some of the takeout food bags and you both comfortably slide into your routine of him setting the table and you setting the food up.

You both take your usual places at the table and you give him a quick peck on the cheek as you sit. His face flushes red and you grin at how easily flustered he seems to get with small acts of affection.

You talk about your day and Yoongi listens as you both dig in. The sunlight has long faded and you light some candles and dim the lights for the ambiance of it all.

Yoongi is usually pretty shy and quiet but tonight he seems extra quiet, letting your voice and stories fill the silence as he chews his food and sips his water.

You can tell something is off and while you want to give Yoongi the space to tell you himself as the night goes on he seems to draw into himself more, hardly looking at you and making himself smaller.

“Yoongs everything okay?” You ask as you stand to clean the dishes.

“I uh. Yeah. I mean. Our meeting today was shit.” He says as you abandon cleaning to shove your chair closer to his, letting your bare knee brush against his clothed one and intertwining your fingers with his long ones.

“You can talk to me about it you know. Here I was blabbing about my day when you had a crappy day. I’m sorry sweetness.” You say as he lowers his eyes to your intertwined hands and your stomach jolts with nerves.

“It’s okay I like hearing about your day. I love your voice.” He whispers.

You rub your thumb across his and give him time and space to speak.

“We got news today that we have a press release to do. In Los Angeles.” He mutters keeping his voice low as the candle on the table flickers and illuminates the beautiful curves of his face.

“That’s awesome Yoongi. You always have fun when you go to the States! When do you leave?” You ask brushing a lock of hair away from his eyes.

His mouth forms a hard line and your stomach drops.

“Tomorrow morning, eight am. Bright and early. Gone for two weeks…as of now” He scoffs as you feel your heart sink in your chest.

Yoongi just got home a week ago and you had all these plans and house renovations you wanted to complete and they were sending him away early.

“Namjoon was pissed. He said we had just gotten home and hardly had time to spend with loved ones before we were whisked away again. PR told us we don’t have a choice.” Yoongi grits out looking angry and torn as he rakes his hands through his hair to push it back from his face.

You rub his palm with your thumb trying to soothe him as he rants on.

About how unfair it is

About how much he loves the fans but he doesn’t want to leave again when he just got back

About how Hoseok complained because he promised his family he would spend a week away with them at their summer home and now he can’t

You take it all in and let Yoongi rant. You see how tense his shoulders get and you quickly get up off your chair to hug him.

“I’m so sorry Yoongs. I know you don’t want to go.” You say softly petting his hair as he melts into your shoulder and lets you comfort him.

“I just got you back I don’t want to go again. I hate leaving you.” He whines as you deliver a soft kiss to the crown of his head and he looks up at you through wide eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you too much. I lost you for two months now I get you back for a week and I’m gone again. I didn’t even get to fuck you as much as I planned.” He pouts which has you smirking and blushing as you rake your hands through his soft dark locks.

“We did have plans to make up for lost time.'“ You tease as Yoongi groans and closes his eyes.

“Don’t remind me. Being away from you last time was torture. Two whole months without you and this week we were so busy we hardly had alone time. And I had all these plans and things I wanted to do sexually and now we can’t” He groaned.

You let out a laugh.

“You were planning our sex life while working?” You ask in disbelief.

“Nah usually at night when I couldn’t sleep. I find staring at the ceiling dealing with time zone differences and jet lag gives you all sorts of time to think….and plan.” He says with a grin that has your pulse racing.

“You horndog!” You tease smacking his arm as he wraps his arms around you caging you in.

“Says the one who got me hard during a meeting today! I don’t even have time for dessert I have to start packing.” He says sadly.

“Sweetness I like the way you think but I did make dessert. Well…chocolate chip muffins. Bring them with you and share them with the boys.” You say as he stares up at you.

“As long as I don’t have to share you I’ll share the muffins….I guess.” He teases as you press a kiss to his forehead and smile against his warm skin.

You pull away and he gets up from his chair and you both get to work cleaning the kitchen. You had to admit the evening took a somber turn and even though you tried to be happy and excited for Yoongi and the band heading to LA for more press and to get their names out there, you were going to miss him terribly. A week was not enough time especially when you spent most of it visiting with your family, or his, or catching up with friends who missed you both.

After the kitchen is clean you both end up in the bedroom. Instead of sexy times, you are sprawled on the bed watching as he grabs his large black suitcase and places it on the bed next to you, then goes through all his drawers to see what he needs.

“Ugh, it’s going to be cold in LA. I’m going to have to pack so many sweaters and they take up so much room.” He sighs as he places a stacked pile of neatly folded sweaters on the bed and you watch as he sorts them all.

“Well save some for me. I like to wear your stuff when you’re gone.” You remind him with a grin as he picks a sweater from the bottom of the pile to throw your way.

It’s the soft black pullover sweater he wears all the time that no matter how many times it’s washed it always smells like him.

You grin and throw it over your head.

“It should just be yours. You look so much cuter in it than I do,” he admits as you crawl forward on the bed pushing his luggage out of the way to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Don’t say that Yoongs. You are just as cute as me if not cuter.” You tease which has him blushing pink and grinning like a fool.

“I’m not cute.” He mutters though you can tell he is pleased with being called cute.

Something you learned about Yoongi was as much as he adored receiving compliments he had a hard time accepting them and believing them. It was something the two of you were working on.

“Nope, my cute detector is going crazy every time I’m near you so it must be you who is the cute one.” You reply making beeping noises that have him blushing and giggling behind his hands

“You are so cute Yoongs. Especially when you wear sweaters that are too big and it gives you sweater paws, or when the weather is cold and your cheeks get extra rosy, or when you pretend to be this big and bad rapper but you become my subby little boy behind closed doors.” You continue as he gasps and you see a blush flood his cheeks.

“Stoppp you're making me blush!” He whines as you giggle and grab his wrists to move his hands from his pretty flushed face.

“Was that something you were thinking about on those long nights? How good it feels to be my subby baby boy and let me do whatever I want to you? Hmm?” You tease as you feel a sort of power heat up your skin at Yoongi’s flushed expression.

It took almost a year for Yoongi to admit that while he loves being in control during sex he also likes to be taken care of. You both had a long conversation about it and in your mind it made sense. Yoongi was the type of person to put everyone else first and always take care of others. Of course, he would like to be taken care of as well.

You had started playing around with the dynamic six months ago but with all his traveling you were having less and less time to explore this new and exciting part of your sex life.

“Y/N You’re gonna make me hard.” He whines as you look down to see a sizeable bulge in his sweats and you grin in satisfaction.

“My sweetness getting so hard just from thinking about me playing with him hmm? So horny Yoongs.” You provoked as your hand slipped from his shoulder to down his firm chest as you watched him suck in a breath. By the time you made it to his sizeable bulge, his cock was straining against the material and stretching it to show off his impressive length and girth.

“Y/N. I-” He looked at the alarm clock on the night table and groaned. “We don’t have time. I have to be up in five hours for the airport.”

You knew he was right but that didn’t stop you from giving his cock a squeeze which had a high whine leaving his mouth.

“You are right. I kind of hate that you’re right though.” You say with a soft laugh as you try to hide how affected you were by the whole thing too.

“Believe me I do too. I’m gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss this.” He admits as he leans in and kisses you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders again and sit back on your knees as Yoongi deepens the kiss. His hair is soft and tickles your face as your mouth molds to his and you feel him smile against your lips.

“You will wait for me right?” He asks in a small voice when he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“I’m not going anywhere Yoongs.” You reply in the same small voice as he shoots you a small smile.

He pulls away and continues to pack as you lay back down on the bed and answer some messages on your phone.

You can’t help but stare at your hot boyfriend and the fact his bulge is still evident in his pants. You could see the outline and while he seemed to be nonchalant about it you were not and it was making you needy.

He moved around the room collecting things and you ogled him until an idea popped into your head. A way for you both to still explore things sexually while he was out of town.

You of course had already tried sexting and very naked video calls but this would be something…new. Something that made your core throb and your heart race.

“Okay, I’m packed,” Yoongi announces snapping you from your thoughts as you stare at him with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, I know that look. You are scheming and planning something. What is it?” He asks as you abandon your phone and push yourself off the bed to stand in front of him.

“Yoongi. You know how you asked if I’d wait for you.” You start slowly trying to control your excitement.

“The conversation we had five minutes ago...yes?” He teases as you bite your lip.

“Can you promise you will wait for me too?” You ask batting your eyes at him.

“I’m not sure what you mean?” He says voice low.

“Well. You like being my subby sweet boy don’t you.” You ask with a dark tone to your voice and a tilt of your head.

Yoongi swallows hard and nods.

“And you lay in your bed all alone and think of me, and plan fun sexy things to do when you get home.” You goad as he nods again.

“And does my Yoongi touch himself when he thinks about these things? Do you wrap your fingers around your cock and try to stay quiet while jerking yourself off?” You ask as Yoongi’s eyes are blown wide.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. Well, this time. You won’t. If I have to wait for you, I want you to wait for me. Two weeks. No cumming until you get home.” You say firmly as Yoongi’s mouth drops open and he gasps.

“Y/N” He whines but by the look in his eye you know he really likes this idea.

“You can’t tell me you can’t hold back for only two weeks. Are you an animal Yoongs? Do you really need your hands around you cock that bad?”

He shakes his head, lips parted and wet from licking them as he stares at you in shock.

“I-fuck I hate that idea but it’s also hot as fuck.” He admits as you trail a fingernail down his chest and he sucks in a gasp.

“Why? You want me to sit here and wait for you while you get to travel the world Are you telling me you are so fucking needy you can’t last two weeks without jerking off?” You bite out

“I think I’ll explode.” He admits shyly as you smirk.

“You will explode… when you get home. All over my face, or in my mouth, or pussy. I guess I have two weeks to decide don’t I?” You ask him as he nods.

You trail your hand down further and when you get to his sizeable bulge you cup it and he cries out softly. His cock jerks in your hand and his head lolls forward to watch your movements.

You waste no time slipping your hand in his pants and encircling his hard cock. Yoongi groans when you jerk him root to tip, and when you flick your hand over the crown of his cock your fingers are soaked with precum.

“So messy Yoongs.” You taunt as he thrusts up in your hand and fucks your fist.

It takes hardly any time before he is whining your name and spilling all over your fist. You work him through it and Yoongi is a whining shaking mess as you slow your movements and remove your hand.

You go to the ensuite bathroom to get cleaned up and you smirk when you can hear Yoongi’s labored breathing. You feel your arousal stick to your sleep shorts and you try to ignore the insistent throbbing of your pussy as you wash your hands.

When you come back in the bedroom the luggage is moved to the floor and Yoongi is flopped on his back on the bed in just his boxers

You stand in front of him with a warm cloth and Yoongi opens his eyes long enough to watch as you pull his boxers down to free his now soft cock and you take your time wiping him clean though most of his release got on your fist anyway.

You throw the cloth in the laundry and cup his now soft cock in your hand.

“D-Don’t Sensitive.” He whines out as you release his cock to cup his balls.

“All nice and empty Yoongs. If they look like this when you come home you are in big trouble.” You warn as he shivers under you and you tuck him back into his boxers.

You slide into bed next to him and he rolls over to spoon you taking his time wrapping his arms around you and pushing his cock into your backside, you can start to feel hardening again.

“Really Yoongi?” You tease as he chuckles softly in your hair.

“I can’t help it you are so hot. And the fact you aren’t letting me cum for two weeks. It’s going to be torture but it’s also kind of hot.” He admits as you smile against the pillow and fall asleep.

Seven days in and everything seemed to be okay.

You both got into an easy rhythm of texting each other when you could and sending pictures throughout the day.

His pictures always made you smile and miss him even more as you finally got to the weekend of your first week.

He had told you he was going to have Friday night off so you agreed to video call, showering right after work, and making a quick dinner so you could see him regardless of the time difference.

When you heard the shrill ring of your phone you bolted towards it almost knocking it right off the bed as you scrambled to answer.

Your heart thumped wildly when you saw his face on the screen. He looked just as beautiful as he did when he left and you both took the time to get caught up.

Joy seemed to radiate off both of you in waves and after almost two hours you finally had run out of things to say.

“It sounds like you are having a blast Yoongi! I knew you’d have fun!” You say as you pull the blankets up higher on your legs and get the pillows behind your back to prop yourself up.

Yoongi shoots you a gummy smile and you smile back at him, feeling warmth radiate from your chest. You love him so much it’s insane.

“Yeah I’m having fun, but I still miss you.” He acknowledges as you grin and rub your legs together to try and warm them up. The bed is always a lot colder when he is gone and the raging windstorm outside doesn’t help.

“I miss you too Yoongs. I miss your smile and your hugs and how you always make the perfect breakfast for me. I miss when you sing under your breath and I miss your hands.”

“My… hands?” He asks cutting you off with a confused expression

“Well, your fingers I guess. You have such nice fingers and hands Yoongi. Your hands are all veiny and your fingers are so long…” You trail off as you cock and eyebrow and Yoongi’s lips part.

“Yeah…” He says lowly as you feel arousal pool in your panties

Insatiable need coursed through your veins as you remember the last time you were with Yoongi. How you wrapped your hand around his cock and made him fall apart without even fully getting him naked. How he instantly succumbed to your idea of making him wait two weeks to cum and how whiny and needy he was that night.

“You know I love your hands Yoongs, and other parts of you.” You tease as you run your hand under the blanket out of his line of sight and you spread your legs as you dip your fingers into your waistband to find your aching core already wet with arousal.

“W-What are you doing?” He asks with a fiery gaze trailing up and down your body.

“I’m so horny Yoongs. We didn’t have time to take care of me before you left.” You whine as you circle your clit and your hips jolt involuntarily causing the phone to jerk.

“Just thinking about my hands get you that wet?” He mutters as you continue to give your clit light pressure and open your legs wider to give your hand more room.

You can feel his eyes on your body, his gaze piercing as you keep your eyes closed and give in to the sensation that is flooding your body.

It has been so long since you were touched even your hand is making you ache as you shift your hips to slip one finger inside your body, gasping when your tight heat sucks the finger right in.

“Fuck you’re making me so fucking hard,” Yoongi swore as he watched you pleasure yourself. His cock was sitting in his boxers rock hard and leaking, the weight of it and the heat of it against his skin was making him antsy and he longed to wrap a palm around it and make himself cum.

“Didn’t you say you would wait for me?” He teases as you flutter your eyes open and stare at him with a wicked grin on your face.

“I said I’d wait for you to come home. I never said I couldn’t cum, just you.” You said as Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock and his cock twitched pathetically in his underwear.

“You- I? How is that fair!” He groaned as you curled your finger inside your body and your hips rutted against it. You are aching to be filled even more so you add another finger and scissor them, trying to mimic how Yoongi’s cock would stretch you out.

“It’s fair because you're my subby boy. I don’t take orders from you Yoongs. You promised to be a good boy and not cum. You were so turned on you didn’t bother reading the fine print. Or asking for terms.”

You don’t bother to look at him when you respond. Instead, you curl your fingers against your front wall and let a moan spill from your lips as you ride your fingers.

“Y/N you- you can’t.” He whines out and when you finally open your eyes Yoongi is a mess. His hair is sweaty and plastered to his forehead, his cheeks are a dusty pink color and you can see how his teeth scrape his bottom lip in desperation as you pump your fingers in and out of your body, moving the phone close so he can hear the obscene noises.

“What if I cum untouched? That can’t count, right? I’m so fucking hard baby I can’t.” He breathes out, voice high-pitched and panicked as you snicker and halt your movements.

“Take off your boxers I wanna see your cock.” You demand as you prop the phone up on some spare pillows and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief as he does the same with his phone and pulls his boxers down.

His cock springs up and hits his clothed stomach and you take him in. The crown is flushed a deep red and the vein that spirals up his cock is protruding and angry looking. His cock twitches against his stomach and you watch as he circles it with his hand.

“Did I say you could touch? You are supposed to be a good boy not a fucking animal who can’t control himself!” You bark as Yoongi rips his hand from his cock and his hips thrust up into thin air.

“You- You said I could take them off!” He argues as you stare at him through the screen and take in how truly fucked out he looks.

“Never said you could touch. That’s strike one. Strike three and you will be punished. I wanted you to take it out so I could make sure my bad boy didn’t disobey me.” You tell him as he gasps and quickly sits on his hands to stop himself from touching. His cock twitches weakly against his stomach and pearls of precum dribble out and coat his shirt

“Such a leaky whore for me Yoongi.” You growl as you open your legs wider and begin to circle your clit again.

Yoongi can’t tear his eyes away from your body and he whines and wiggles on the bed desperate to get his hand around his cock. He is so hard it is starting to hurt.

You continue to rub your clit and feel the coil of pressure get tighter in your stomach. Yoongi looks so desperate, so fucked out from watching you it turns you on more.

“Please, baby.” He cries out as you watch his cock twitch on his stomach and more precum oozes out.

“Please what Yoongi? If you're going to beg me to let you touch yourself the answer is no.” You growl as you speed up your movements knowing you are getting closer with every pass of your finger over your aching clit.

“Please cum for me, baby. I want to watch you watch you fall apart. Please my cock can’t take much more I need you to cum or I might cum on accident.” He admits as he stares at you in a frenzy.

His words set you off and you cum, crying out his name and arching off the bed as you ride out your high. You can hardly hear Yoongi’s desperate whines as you thrash on the bed and when you finally come down and the ringing in your ears stops you stare at the screen to see Yoongi who is staring at you with desperation etched into his features.

“I’m not going to let you cum Yoongs. Not until you’re home.” You say as you pull the blankets back over your lap and run a shaky hand through your hair.

You can see his cock throb again and Yoongi whines and ruts his hips up, desperately searching for any friction to relieve the painful ache of his cock.

“Fuck I’m so hard. Fuck you are so hot. Fuck.” He grits out as he slowly and carefully pulls his boxers back up, the feeling of the fabric against his cock makes him hiss and you giggle as you watch him grit his teeth.

“Wet dreams don’t count right?” He asks in a panic as his eyes widen.

“This two-week thing is really getting to you huh?” You tease as Yoongi nods and runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I just watched the hottest girl on the planet make herself cum and I’m hard as a rock and can’t touch myself. This is torture.” He says with a half laugh that has you smiling.

“Is it too much? Do you want to stop” You ask honestly as you take in how truly turned on he looks

“Not at all. I know the end will be worth it. Though I don’t think my cock is ever going to go down. I’m close to humping the bed like a horny teenager right now” He says shyly as you giggle.

“I think that’s also against the rules.” You tease as he smiles at you.

“I know. I didn’t expect you to play dirty though. Watching you cum. Fuck nothing in the world is as hot as that.”

You feel yourself start to blush.

“You not making it easier on yourself you know.” You joke as Yoongi grimaces.

“I know. I should probably try to get some sleep though. We have an early day tomorrow. Namjoon is dragging me and Jin to some art thing.” He says as you feel yourself grow sleepy in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Sounds fun.” You say tucking a pillow comfortably behind your head and curling into a ball on your side.

“Yeah I’m hard as fuck and I get to go to a boring art thing tomorrow. Living my best life.” Yoongi pouts and you giggle softly.

“Love you Yoongs.” You sigh as you feel your eyes flutter closed.

“Love you too babe.” He says softly back as you fall asleep.

The second week was torture for Yoongi. Though you didn’t pull any more dirty tricks it seemed his body realized something was wrong with his refusal to jerk off and it was getting revenge.

Yoongi started to wake up with a hard-on almost every single morning and not just a case of normal morning wood, he would be leaking and twitching and so achingly hard that it made him want to hit someone or something.

Cold showers had become his best friend and his balls constantly ached even when he wasn’t hard.

Yoongi couldn’t wait to get home to you in more ways than one and on the final day, he was so jittery even the boys started to take notice.

The universe also decided to torture Yoongi because while he was supposed to get home at a decent hour the plane got delayed and he ended up flying it at two am

By the time he got home, it was well past three in the morning and Yoongi burst through the door and threw his bags on the ground. He would get them later, or never, it didn’t matter as long as he found you

He made his way to the bedroom quickly and when he entered he saw you snuggled on your side clutching his sweater. You looked so small under the big puffy duvet that Yoongi let out a small sigh.

You had books scattered around you and the TV was left on. His smile widened when he realized you tried your best to wait up for him.

He moved around the room slowly and quietly, turning off the TV, putting the bookmark you had left on the bed in the book and he slowly stripped down and slipped into bed to hold you in his arms.

He was hard. Of course, he was. But that could wait because you immediately rolled over and melted into his warm embrace, snuggling your head into his strong chest and smiling against his skin.

“Home?” You asked voice heavy with sleep.

“I’m home. Get some rest beautiful.” He mumbled as he kissed the crown of your head.

Yoongi woke up with a start as the sensation of a warm mouth around his cock made him twitch and jerk awake.

Was it another dream?

God if he came without your permission he would be in so much trouble.

Yoongi forced his eyes open and the wet heat enveloped his cock again sending delicious pleasure down his spine.

This was real

This was so real

And this was you

He lifted the blankets to see you had woken up before him and crawled between his legs and was currently sucking his cock while staring up at him with your innocent doe eyes

Shit.

His hands immediately gripped the blankets for dear life, his knuckles turning white as he fought back every instinct to thrust up into your mouth. It felt so good and he was so sensitive that he was moaning your name within seconds, trying to keep his hips glued to the bed.

You popped off his cock with a wet noise and Yoongi’s eyes shot open as you smiled up at him.

“Morning,” you called in a sing-song voice as Yoongi panted above you.

“M-More Pl-please,” Yoongi begged in a broken whine as you chuckled and sat up between his legs, pushing the blanket off of you and exposing his lower half to the cold air.

His cock was rock hard and wet with your spit and twitched at the loss of contact. Yoongi felt so much blood rushing south that his head felt dizzy and when you came up to straddle him Yoongi let out a frustrated whine as you sat too far back to give his cock any kind of friction.

“Now is that any way to greet your girlfriend after not seeing her for two weeks?” You stated crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down.

He could see that the cold of the room was affecting your body as your nipples hardened under your shirt and his cock throbbed painfully.

“Sorry, I just. Fuck I haven’t come in two weeks and you gave me a blowjob. I’m- all fucked.” He says breathlessly as you lean forward and catch his lips in a searing kiss.

Yoongi grabs your hips to hold you steady as he presses his lips into yours. Your lips part for his easily and when you grind down on his upper thighs Yoongi lets out a groan against your mouth.

You feel the wetness pool at your center as you let him take charge of the kiss. His hands tangle in your bedhead and he easily flips you over so you are on your back and he hovers over you. He growls against your mouth and nips and sucks at your lips as you gasp.

One hand comes to rest in your hair while the other plays with your nipples through your sleep shirt.

He slowly ruts his cock into your thigh and you can feel just how leaky he is as he smears his precum around your heated skin.

You pull away and gasp for air as Yoongi stares at you with darkened eyes and a look of pure lust on his face.

“While that makeout was hot as fuck I think you are forgetting who is in charge here Yoongs.” You tease as he shuts his eyes in frustration.

“I thought we were done with this. I didn’t cum for two weeks. You win. Now I get to cum right?” He asks voice low and gravely as you laugh and lightly push him off of you.

You get yourself situated between his legs and Yoongi’s eyes widen when you finally push his boxers down and fully expose his cock to the cold air.

“Not so fast Yoongi. I have to check and make sure you weren’t naughty.” You taunt as you run a finger down his cock and he shivers and grips the blankets for support.

You take your time with his cock. Picking it up and inspecting it, running your soft fingers all over the head and the shaft making it throb and twitch in your hand. When you give him a harsh tug Yoongi feels like the air is punched from his lungs as his cock throbs and leaks precum all over your fist.

“You can-can’t tease me. I’m so sensitive I might cum without meaning to. Please.” He begs as you slowly lean down to suck on his cockhead and Yoongi feels electricity running through his veins. He is so horny so desperate, that he can feel his cock throbbing with each touch, he can feel the precum ooze out of the slit and cover his heated shaft.

Your hand trails down the underside of his cock and he whines when you make it to his balls. They are heavy and hot in your hand as you roll them around and Yoongi lets out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a whine.

“Fuck you-you can’t… so sensitive.” He cries out as he arches off the bed at the sensation, the veins in his arms popping out as he grips the sheets for dear life.

This man is totally at your mercy and you love it

“So full Yoongs.” You taunted as you rolled them and played with them some more. Watching as his cock twitched pathetically against his shirt.

“We have to drain them, baby. You're so full you might burst.” You tease as you move away from his cock and sit beside him on the bed.

“Pl-please do something. I’ve been so good. Didn’t touch myself once. Please.” He begs jutting out his lower lip in a pout and you chuckle.

“How about I make you a deal? You stretch me out with your fingers so I can take your massive cock. If you can be a good boy and hold off a little longer I’ll let you cum inside me, with a condom of course. If you can’t control yourself you get to cum on your fist. Deal?” You ask

Without waiting Yoongi is already between your legs and you giggle when he spreads them apart and sticks his whole face into your pussy.

You cry out and grab for his hair as he licks up everything your body is willing to give him. His tongue is rough and hot against your core and when he flicks it over your clit you whine out above him.

He uses one hand to hold your hips down and the other hand comes to join his mouth as he slips a finger inside easily. You moan and thrash on the bed as he works you open. You can subtly feel his hips fucking his hot cock into the mattress and you grin when he lets out a wild moan against your core.

“There you are stretched please sit on my cock.” He begs quickly as he pulls away and sits up next to you on the bed.

His chest is heaving and his cheeks are flushed and wet with your arousal and you stare at him in shock.

“Did I say you were done?” You ask darkly as Yoongi swallows hard.

“I’m gonna cum. Seriously I can’t. Too sensitive it hurts too much.” He whined as you stared him down with a cold glance.

“The challenge was to control yourself Yoongi. Not rush your way into things so you don’t cum.” You say darkly as you push him down on the mattress and fully take control.

You don’t even bother with his cock. Instead, you climb up his body and position each knee so you are straddling his face.

“You rap and sing about how good you are with your tongue so fucking prove it. Make me cum and if I’m feeling generous I’ll let you cum.” You grit out.

You don’t bother letting him answer instead you sink down on his mouth and sigh when he starts to lap at your juices.

His tongue prods your entrance and you whine and grab for his hair when he sticks in inside. Thrusting in and out and flicking over your clit in a way that has you moaning out his name in broken whimpers.

You feel the bed shift and you look back in time to see one of his hands is sneakily wrapped around his cock, not jerking it, just holding the base in a vice-like grip and you realize Yoongi is very very desperate to cum, and trying his best not to.

“I’ll let you hold your cock like a pathetic loser who can’t hold his cum properly. If I see that hand move I’ll chain you to the bedpost and get a pretty cock ring to put around you. Or maybe a chastity cage that way we can make sure you aren’t cumming without permission. Would you like that Yoongs? Like to be my caged-up little slut?”

The whine he lets out is animalistic and you thrash against him when he brings his free hand up to play with your clit. You can tell he is doubling down to get you to cum and you watch as he leaks more precum on his fingers and that sets you off.

You have no time to warn him as you cum all over his face and tongue. The coil of pleasure snaps and you ride out your high chanting his name and holding onto the headboard for dear life.

When you finally come down and roll off of him both of you are breathing heavily and you crack your eyes open to see the very firm grip he has on the base of his cock.

“P-Please Y/N It hurts so bad. My balls are so heavy. Please let me cum. I’ve been your good boy. I’ve been so good.” Yoongi cries as tears of desperation leak from his eyes.

You slowly sit up on your knees and wipe his tears away. His cheeks are red and his eyes are swimming with more tears and all you want to do is make him feel better.

“Just let me get the condom sweetness. You have been such a good boy for me. Just last a little longer okay?” You coo as you reach into the bedside drawer to grab the condom.

Yoongi sighs in relief as you rip the packet and roll the condom onto his cock. The sensation has his cock twitching frantically and you bite back a smile.

“How do you want this?” You ask softly as you reach up to wipe more tears from his face.

“Don’t care. Just wanna be inside of you.” He mutters as tears still slip down his face and his body is thrumming in anticipation.

You climb on top of him deciding that riding him will be your best bet and when his cockhead runs through your folds he tenses up and grits his teeth so hard you could see the muscles in his jaw working.

“Deep breaths Yoongs.” You reminded him as he cracked his eyes open.

“I’m not going to last long. I’m so close to the edge that it’s insane. If you want to feel me inside of you I’m going to need to you sink down on my cock before I cum.” He warns as you finally do as he says and you take a deep breath and sink down.

Yoongi arches violently off the bed nearly knocking you off it as you put your hands on his chest and try to steady yourself.

You can feel his cock twitching inside of you and you open your mouth to taunt him but his hands are on your hips and he gives you no time to adjust as he fucks up wildly into you.

“Yoongi! Slow. Hurts!” You cry out as he thrusts and hits your G-spot effortlessly.

“I can’t babe. I have to move because I have to cum. There is so much heat and pressure down there. And you feel so tight and hot against me. Fuck you feel so good." I’m not going to last. Honest.” He says in a broken whine as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts.

The burn of his cock stretching you is still there but it is quickly replaced by burning pleasure.

Yoongi is fucking into you wildly, his hair is a mess on the pillow and the grunts and moans that leave his mouth are pornographic.

“Want you to rub your clit. Want you to cum with me, baby. I can’t hold back.” He warns as your hand quickly finds your clit and you rub it, arching your back to get him to hit deeper inside of you.

Chaos ensues.

You moan his name as your second orgasm catches both of you by surprise. You feel your walls flutter around his aching length and you cream his cock, wailing his name as it leaks out of you and down his shaft covering his balls.

Yoongi tips off the edge soon after.

His hands are harsh on your hips and he pounds up into you so forcefully that your teeth chatter in your mouth. You feel him twitch and he cries out your name in ecstasy as he cums hard into the condom

And cums

There is so much and he is still thrusting through it all as he empties himself inside of you.

You slump down on his chest as everything feels warm and fuzzy. Yoongi is breathing raggedly in your ear as his cock twitches inside of you and leaks out the last of his cum.

You are so spent your bones feel like jelly.

You lean your head up to see Yoongi crying and you wipe his tears away.

“It just felt so good. Fuck there was so much pressure and now it’s gone and I’m just so happy. Fuck two weeks without cuming is awful.” He comments as you finally slip off his cock and he hisses.

You walk to the washroom to get cleaned up and bring out a towel for him

His dark hair is plastered to his face and a sheen of sweat is covering his body.

You pull the condom off and snicker when you see truly how much cum is inside of it. He clearly was very pent-up and you giggle when you throw it out. You clean off the shaft and his balls and snuggle into bed with him, throwing the towel in the laundry you know you will have to do tomorrow.

“Fuck that orgasm was wild. I think I passed out at one point.” He admits to you as he wraps his arms around your body and you snuggle into his chest.

“You came a lot. Like a lot. The condom was almost full.” You say to him as he blushes and you press a kiss on his cheek.

“Don’t be embarrassed it’s sexy.” You say as you fall into a lapse of silence.

“That was torture but also all sorts of hot. It has been a long time since I have cum like that.” He says softly petting your hair and pressing kisses to your temples.

“Want to do it again?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“As long as you don’t make me wait two weeks. My balls were aching the whole second week. Fucking torture.” He grits out as you giggle.

“Worth it?” You ask staring into his softened eyes.

“Worth it.” He admits with a smile.

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#Min yoongi #Yoongi #Yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi/reader #yoongi/reader smut #yoongixreader #yoongixreader smut #bts fic #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic #bts fanfiction

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20doozers · 1 month

Note

Heeeyyy:)

I've been following your block for a while and got this nice fic idea

Like, this one interview where they talk about piercings and Tom's like "I've got a new one down their" and I was thinking like a m!reader fic where reader helps tom with the pain of his prince albert piercing or frenum piercing. but it turns into smut, with reader teasing the hell out of Tom with his piercing.

I hope you like my idea🙃

TW: handjob, frenum piercing, cum tasting?, light teasing, unlabeled relationship, hints of a praise kink

A/N: I know what clip ur talking about. And no fancy banner this time :(

Tom grunted as he sat on the bathroom counter, slightly embarrassed at the prospect of asking his friend for help with his new piercing. He needed to change the jewelry but couldn’t bring himself to do it because of the pain and how nauseous it made him. So here he was, his lower half bare as he sat on the cold bathroom counter and waited for you to come help him.

When you finally did you smirked, the sight of a flushed and embarrassed Tom being a pleasant one as you walked between his legs and began to help him change the jewelry. Your touch was gentle on his cock, not wanting to hurt him on accident. Yet when Tom let out a moan after a particularly gentle touch on the underside of his cock as you slid the new curved barbel in made you pause.

You glanced up at Tom and raised an eyebrow, only for him to mumble a weak “shut up” which really held no harsh tones.

“You sure Tom? Sounds like you enjoyed that.” You hummed, brushing your finger over the same spot just below the head of his cock, making him let out a muffled whine that sounded almost pleading. You just chuckled and screwed the small ball onto the end of the jewelry, the small, curved, silver barbel now replacing the gold one he’d had before. It was a pleasant sight, the small silver accents right below the pinkish head of his cock that was slowly hardening in your hand as his face flushed even more.

“Feels nice doesn’t it? Someone being gentle with you?” You gently yet slowly gave his cock a stroke, pumping it in your hand and earning a small moan. Tom’s head lulled back, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you have him slow, teasing pumps.

“Scheiße.. d-don’t tease..” he whined, attempting to lift his head to look at you, only to let out a loud moan as you gave his frenum piercing a gentle tug.

“Sensitive, yeah?” You questioned, giving Tom gentle yet firm pumps with one hand, the other slowly rubbing his bare thigh. Goosebumps prickled at Tom’s skin as you teased him, too engrossed in his arousal to remember his embarrassment.

The rest of the handjob was fueled with soft praises, the pumps were firm and slow, occasionally speeding up and giving his cock a small squeeze. Yet you didn’t let him cum just yet, drawing out his pleasure for as long as you pleased. Eventually you watched as a bead of precum leaked from his tip, bringing your other hand away from his thigh to collect the precum on your fingertip, before bringing it up to your lips and tasting it with a small hum as you heard Tom moan.

And with that you finally let him cum, your hand going back down to his thigh to sooth him as his cum leaked from the tip and down onto your hand. But you didn’t mind, just licking you hand clean and helping clean him up with a warm washcloth and a few gentle kisses pressed to his lips as he slowly came down from his high. He grimaced slightly at the taste of his own cum on your lips but it wasn’t the worst thing ever so he decided he’d deal with it for now.

“Good job.. so kind for letting me help.. now let’s head to bed, yeah? I’m sure that was tiring to you.”

YIPPEE!!! I’m sorry it’s a bit short but I didn’t have any other ideas so why not do the request? I’ve been super busy and just not in the mood to write smut so sorry if it sucks but I tried my best. Anyway, luv you guys❤︎︎

Tags: @itsmealaiahh @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @cherry-rawr @d0wn-in-the-morgue @billskeis and @divinelolita again cuz why not?

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

There's No Escape (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: You find out the hard way what happens when Leon doesn't get what he wants, after all, actions have consequences, don't they?

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 4.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

THIS PART CONTAINS EXPLICIT VIOLENCE AND GORE, READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Ok first off, I did not intend to make this part this long, but I was on a roll and the words just kept coming out (plus I wanted to get to the good stuff, you guys have waited long enough). Thank you again for all the support and love on this extremely self indulgent piece. I tried to proof read this one as best as I could without going cross eyed, so again, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You both sat in the living room of your apartment in silence. It was some ungodly hour in the morning, you didn’t bother to check. Neither of you could sleep. You both ensured that the front door was dead-bolted and all the windows were locked before settling into the living room. You couldn’t help but feel guilt wash over you as you silently cried. It was never your intention to drag Becky into this mess. You figured Leon would just move on. Clearly you were mistaken.

“Listen, Becky, I’m really sorry,” you say, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Sorry for what?”

“I put you in danger by moving in with you. If I knew Leon would be pulling this crap, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Becky let out a loud sigh, “we’re best friends. You would have done the same for me.”

You nod silently, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them.

“What I can’t wrap my head around is how he figured out where you worked so fast. Clearly that ‘prank call’ the other day was him. What did you say he did for a living again?”

You swallow hard before answering, “he works for the gov--”

Your eyes widen. The word “government” flashes in your mind like a curse. How could you have been so stupid? It’s a wonder he hadn’t tracked you down sooner.

“He works for the what now?”

“The government.”

You both stare at each other, the silence deafening.

“And… what exactly does he do for the government?”

“He’s some kind of special ops agent. Military training and all that…”

You watch Becky rub her face into her hands, exhaling loudly.

“Becky, I’m sorry…”

“It’s a miracle you’re not dead,” Becky’s muffled voice responds from under her hands before dropping them, “what the hell did you see in him anyway?”

“He was wonderful at first,” you reply, pulling out your phone and opening the photo gallery.

You scroll back to six months ago, when you and Leon first started dating. There were a million pictures of him and the two of you together. He wasn’t exactly smiling in the pictures, but you could tell he loved you. But, then, you notice subtle details in the photos; the way he was gripping your waist too tightly in one photo, his cold eyes in the next. There was one photo that stood out to you, he had you in a vice grip with one arm with his nose buried in your hair while you laughed. It was a candid photo but you couldn’t help but be unsettled by it now, given your current circumstances. This man was a walking red flag and you totally missed it.

“Maybe I should move,” you suddenly say.

“Absolutely not!” Becky exclaims, “we’re in this together! It’s way too dangerous for you to be out there on your own!”

“What am I supposed to do?! It’s not like I can go to the police and be like ‘Hi yes? I have a trained government agent that’s stalking me’ now, can I? They’ll never believe me!”

Becky shook her head, “I don��t know what we’re going to do but we’ll figure out something. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Becky.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was a bright, sunny day in Boston. You were coming out of the Dunkin’ Donuts right down the street from your apartment with a tray with two iced coffees as you made your way down the sidewalk. Your cellphone began to ring, you pulled it out to answer it.

Caller ID Unknown

You roll your eyes and reject the call. Before you even had a chance to put it back in your pocket, it began ringing again. The ID still said Caller ID Unknown. Again, you reject the call, but again, it immediately starts ringing. Annoyed now, you answer it. You hear a voice before you even have a chance to speak.

“Is one of those iced coffees for me? You shouldn’t have, princess.”

“Leon?!” You stop dead in your tracks and look around to see if you see him anywhere, but you don’t.

You hear him lick his lips, “Did you wear that sundress on purpose? You know that’s my favorite one, baby.”

“You fucking pig, leave me alone!”

“Now, now… what have I told you about swearing at Daddy? What a bad girl you are.”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you continue to whip your head around to see if you can see him, but you don’t, which makes you panic even more.

“Where the fuck are you Leon?! Stop hiding!”

You hear him laugh on the other end. Pissed off now, you hang up on him and run down the street, being mindful of the iced coffees in the tray. You had to get back to the apartment. You didn’t care what Becky said, you were moving out. You had no clue where you would go, but you knew you had to get as far away from here as possible. You’d drive to the ends of the earth if you had to.

You get to your apartment and rush up to the front door, digging your keys out from your pocket while precariously balancing the iced coffee tray in your other hand. You finally get a hold of your keys and start opening the front door.

“Becky, listen, we need to talk--”

You stop mid sentence as the door swings completely open, letting out an eerie squeak. You let out a loud gasp, dropping the tray and the iced coffees as you bring both hands to cover your mouth in shock.

There is blood everywhere.

Your eyes darted from the kitchen cabinets, to the island, to the fridge; everything had blood splattered all over it. Your eyes eventually settle on something laying on the floor. It was Becky, her eyes open wide and her mouth open in a silent scream as blood seeped from the large gash going across her neck.

You’re frozen in place, you can’t take your eyes off Becky’s lifeless form. You weren’t even gone for an hour; you were just talking to her this morning when she mentioned she was dying for an iced coffee. She had a school project to work on so she wasn’t able to go with you to go get Dunks like you normally would.

Hesitantly, you walk through the door and approach Becky’s body, a small part of you hoping she was somehow still alive. Your whole body trembles as you stand before her. Suddenly, you hear the front door squeak and slam shut, causing you to jump and turn around.

You see Leon, his hand holding the front door shut as he flips his beloved combat knife in his other hand. He lets out a low chuckle as he walks up to you, bringing the blood soaked knife to his lips, licking the blade clean before sheathing it.

“Baby, I didn’t want to have to kill Becky, but she left me no choice. You understand, right?”

“Fuck you!” your voice is like venom as you run over to one of the cabinets, whipping it open.

You start grabbing glasses and throwing them at him, which he effortlessly deflects with his hand as he continues to stalk towards you. You bolt from the kitchen and attempt to get into the living room, however you slip on Becky’s blood, falling to the floor, smacking your face hard against the hardwood floor.

Now dazed, you attempt to get back up but feel Leon grab you from behind by your underarms, standing you up and holding you against his body.

“You naughty girl,” Leon growled, kissing the back of your right earlobe, “Daddy’s going to have to teach you some manners.”

You desperately struggle in his grasp, however his grip on you is relentless. Looking out the window as you struggle, you realize the window has a clear view of the Dunks that you had just come from.

He was inside the apartment when he called.

“You fucking monster!” you scream, slamming your foot down on one of his boots; he doesn’t flinch.

“Oh princess… it seems you already forgot the rules, haven’t you? That’s fine. I have other ways of keeping you under control.”

You hear him grab something from his pocket and before you can react, you feel a sharp pain in the right side of your neck, making you flinch.

“What the hell was that?!” you cry out, feeling a strange sensation start to overtake your entire body.

“Shhhhhh it’s ok, it’s just to help you relax. Daddy’s got you, you’re safe with me sweetheart,” Leon purrs, kissing the back of your head as his hand runs through your hair.

Your movements quickly became sluggish, subconsciously grateful Leon was holding you up, otherwise you would have collapsed onto the floor. Your eyelids were getting heavy and before you knew it, the embrace of darkness took you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It was well into the evening before Leon finished cleaning the mess left behind from Becky. One of the first things he did was wrap her body in a blanket and weigh it down with a chain and cinder block before dumping her into the bay. Thanks to his connections in the government, Becky would soon be erased from existence. You were safe in his Wrangler, sleeping soundly. Even if you somehow woke up from the tranquilizer, you wouldn’t be able to open the doors from the inside.

He then began gathering some of your things. He grabbed some of your clothes, toiletries and some of your books and your gaming console. There might be times he has to go out on assignments, so you would need something to do while he’s gone; he hated the thought of leaving you though. Once he was confident he had everything he needed, he locked up the apartment, got into his Jeep and started the engine. He had a very long drive ahead of him.

His destination was a plot of land just above the Northernmost part of Baxter State Park in Maine. He had purchased property up there and built a large cabin shortly after he got back from Spain. While he told you he was out on an assignment a few weeks ago, he was actually up at the cabin getting things ready to move you in. His original plan was to get back to the apartment in D.C. and bring you up there to your new home, however your disappearing act had put a wrench in that plan. He was thankful he trusted his gut and put the GPS tracker in your Renegade.

Thankfully, traffic was light, so he was able to get onto I-95 North relatively quickly. He glances over at you, sleeping peacefully. He could see your eyes moving underneath your eyelids.

“I wonder what you’re dreaming about, sweetie,” he says softly, using the back of his fingers to stroke your cheek before returning his attention back to the road, “I hope it’s me.”

He reaches up to the sun visor above him, grabbing a mix CD from the CD holder and putting it into the CD player. The song “Bullets” by Creed began to play. As the song picked up, he sang quietly to himself as his right hand moved from the stick shift to your thigh, rubbing it tenderly.

As he drove, his mind drifted towards the future. He imagined you finally coming around, living happily together, maybe even getting married. He imagined at least a couple little Kennedys running around the cabin, playing tag or whatever it was kids do these days. He imagined you in the kitchen making dinner and him walking up behind you, placing his arms around your waist to rub your belly that would be pregnant with another little Kennedy; the picture perfect family. He could feel himself grow hard, but he would not stop to indulge himself; perhaps when you both finally got to the cabin. He hoped by then you’d be awake.

He was looking forward to finally making his dream a reality.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your eyes slowly flutter open and the first thing you feel is the skull crushing headache you have. You wince and try to sit up. You quickly realize you’re in bed. Was all that with Leon a dream? Was Becky alive still? You swing your legs around to get out of bed but you're jerked back by something cold around your neck. You blink, becoming hyper aware of your surroundings. You realize, too, that you were now in jeans and a t-shirt. This is not your bedroom at the apartment. You reach your hands to your neck and find you’re fitted with a metal collar that is attached to a chain, you look behind you; the chain is bolted into the wall.

“Oh what the fuck…”

You try to pull on the chain, but the bolts don’t budge, that’s when you realize your hands and ankles are also bound together by chains. You start hyperventilating.

What’s going on, why am I chained to the wall? Why am I chained in general? Where the fuck am I?

“You’re finally awake.”

Your head snaps up at the sound of Leon’s voice; you didn’t even hear him approach. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that barely clung to his hips. His blue eyes gaze at you longingly.

“You’ve been an awfully bad girl, so Daddy had to punish you.” he says, his eyebrows furrowing in anger.

“Where’s Becky?!”

“Becky? I don’t know anyone named Becky,” Leon says in a ‘as a matter of fact’ tone.

“You fucking liar! You fucking killed her!”

Leon charged over to you, slapping you across the face. You cry out, holding your hand up to your face as your cheek stung from the aftershock of the slap.

“What did I tell you about swearing at Daddy, you dumb bitch?!”

You start sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking, “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’m sorry… Daddy…”

“That’s much better,” Leon cooed, stroking the top of your head, “such a good girl.”

You absolutely loathe calling him ‘Daddy,’ it made you sick to your stomach. Leon sat on the bed next to you, continuing to stroke the top of your head.

“Do we need to go over the rules again, babygirl?”

You gave him a nod.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Yes…” you swallow hard, “Daddy…”

“Alright,” he gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, “you remember the most important one, don’t you?”

“Be respectful, no swearing or backtalk… I have to listen to what you tell me to do.”

“That’s right. And?”

“I address you as… Daddy… I think you said sir was ok too but you prefer…” you wince like you have a bad taste in your mouth, “Daddy.”

“Such a smart girl, what else?”

“I can’t leave the apartment… erm…” you glance around the room, “house… without your permission.”

Leon gives you a gentle smile as he strokes your cheek, “see? You remember the rules just fine. However, Daddy had to make a new rule now that we’re here, ok?”

You swallow hard, your anxiety skyrocketing.

“Remember, you need to answer when I’m talking to you.”

“Ok… Daddy…”

He grabs onto the collar and pulls you to him, “when you misbehave, you go into the timeout room until Daddy thinks you’re ready to come out.”

“Is this… is this the timeout room?”

“So perceptive! Yes, baby, this is the timeout room,” he replies before giving you a kiss on the lips.

You reciprocate the kiss as much as it kills you inside to do so. He releases the collar and stands up from the bed. He stops at the threshold of the room, looking back at you.

“You must be so hungry, sweetheart, do you want Daddy to make you something to eat?”

“Yes, please.”

Leon narrows his eyes again in a silent threat.

“Yes please, Daddy…”

Seemingly satisfied with your response, he turns and leaves the room, shutting the timeout room door behind him. You take a deep breath, taking in your surroundings. The room had no windows or clock, so you had no way of gauging what time it was. You look up into the corner and see a camera, you reckon that’s how he knew you were awake; it probably has a motion detector in it. You take stock of your current situation. One saving grace was you were at least fully clothed, but you imagined that wasn’t going to last long. You couldn’t help but regret leaving D.C. to begin with; yeah you were trapped in an apartment in D.C., but you at least weren’t chained to a goddamn wall and Becky was alive.

Becky… I’m so sorry…

You hoped she at least put up a fight. Judging by the gruesome scene you stumbled upon, she had. However, you knew that Leon was practically unstoppable, you remember specifically his kicks were especially deadly. He told you stories about how he snapped people’s necks simply by roundhouse kicking them. However, from the looks of things he simply used his knife.

At one point, you thought that was so hot.

You bury your head into your hands and cry. You felt completely helpless and you hated it. You hated Leon with every fiber of your being.

“Oh sweetheart, please don’t cry,” you hear Leon say.

Again, you snap your head back up and find him in the doorway. He had a plate with a fork as well as a glass of water. As he approaches you, you see that he had made you waffles.

“I made you your favorite. Daddy loves you so much.”

“What time is it… D-Daddy?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“It’s just before 11, just in time for breakfast, sweetie,” he replies as he hands you the plate and fork.

“W-Where are we exactly…?”

He narrows his eyes for a moment, however, his expression quickly softens as he answers, “we’re home, that’s all you need to know, babygirl,” he brings his lips to your temple, giving you a soft kiss.

You fiddle with the fork in your right hand for a second, contemplating if you should try to stab it into his neck. Unfortunately the damn thing is made of that biodegradable shit, you foresee that ending badly. On top of that, it was one of those safety forks that you couldn’t break and turn into a sharp object, like the ones they give to inmates in prison.

That’s what this place is, not home, but a fucking prison.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

It’s late; the only thing lighting the living room is the soft glow of the TV as Leon mindlessly surfs through channels in his recliner. The picture was a tad fuzzy since satellite television was the only thing Leon could get working out here, but he didn’t mind. He suddenly came upon an old sitcom, the scene playing out a wife doing the dishes and her husband coming home from work, kissing her on the cheek before taking off his coat. The man’s two children run in, hugging his legs.

Leon felt his heart sink at the sight. There were three things in life that he always wanted: to protect people, to find a nice girl to settle down with and to start a beautiful family. He didn’t really have a family growing up, his biological family was killed having been involved heavily in crime. He was adopted by a police officer, which inspired Leon to become a police officer himself. However, his dream was shattered the night he drove into Raccoon City on his first day being on the force.

To make matters worse, he was immediately taken in by the U.S. Government and interrogated about what happened that night and then ‘asked’ to join a top secret agency, mostly dealing with incidents involving B.O.W.s. His trip to Spain was no different, having been sent there to rescue the president’s daughter. Things were different that time, however, as he was able to get her safely back home after removing the Las Plagas parasite even though he had gotten infected himself in the process. He almost didn’t make it back, but by some miracle, the president’s daughter was able to remove the parasite from him before it completely consumed him.

When he returned from Spain, even though the mission was an overwhelming success, he still felt empty. He had no one to come home to; no wife to kiss him on the cheek and ask him how his day was. No kids to run up to him to give him a hug, to tell him how much they missed their Daddy.

He got up from the recliner abruptly and turned off the TV. He walks up to the timeout room door and slowly opens it. You were sleeping, you looked so peaceful in the low light from the nightlight in the room. He stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him before approaching the bed. He sat down next to your sleeping form, watching you for a few minutes. A smile forming on his lips, he runs his hand up your leg gently, causing you to stir in your sleep.

“L-Leon…?” you wake with a yawn, “is it morning? What time is it?”

Leon grew slightly irritated at the fact you didn’t address him correctly, but he let it slide for now.

“Daddy has decided he’s going to let you come out of timeout,” he said softly, “but only if you do something for me.”

You rub your eyes before propping yourself up on one elbow to face him, your eyes still dazed from sleep.

“What do you want me to do…?” you ask, your eyelids still heavy.

He leans over you, putting his lips up to your ear and whispering, “let Daddy fuck a baby into you.”

He hears your breath begin to tremble.

“Please, sweetie, please give Daddy a baby,” Leon continues, practically moaning in your ear.

You shake your head as tears form in your eyes; you sit up and press yourself against the headboard, and you look down at the tent in his sweatpants. Looking down at himself, his right hand goes into his sweatpants, pulling out his throbbing cock, giving himself a couple strokes, precum now dripping from the tip.

“Sweetie look, you’re making him cry. All he wants is to be inside you and give you a baby.”

Again, you shake your head at him, tears dripping off your face.

He frowns, bringing his free hand up to caress your cheek while the other continues to stroke his cock, “there is nothing to be afraid of, Daddy will take such good care of you when you’re pregnant, I promise.”

“Get away from me!” you whimper, pushing his hand away from your face.

Anger begins to boil within him, the frown quickly turning into a scowl. His free hand then grasps your throat, practically choking you. He watches as you struggle against his grasp, desperately trying to breathe but are not able to.

“You’re going to have my baby whether you like it or not, so we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, sweetheart. The choice is yours and I can tell you right now, you will not like the hard way,” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“I… I… I’m….” you try to speak, but his grip on you is too tight.

Leon sees this and loosens his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry Daddy, I’m really sorry Daddy. I’ll give you a baby, please don’t hurt me…”

A sinister smile overtakes him. He removes his hand from your throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he says, standing up, “you’re gonna make Daddy so happy.”

Leon grabs your jeans, ripping them off your body, only leaving your thin lace panties. He then removes his sweatpants, now completely naked.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he commands.

You quickly comply, propping yourself up on your hands and knees. He kneels onto the bed as he looms over you, pushing you forward into the bed so that your ass is in the air.

“I was going to treat you and eat your pussy out before I pound a baby into you, but since you insist on being a bad girl, we’re skipping the foreplay tonight.”

“I’m sorry D-Daddy!” you cry, your voice muffled into the bed, “I’m sorry for being a bad girl…”

Ignoring you, he can’t help but see the dark spot on your panties; he lets out a low chuckle.

“Look at how wet you already are! And here you are telling me that you don’t want this. Silly girl…”

His fingers grab your panties and rips them off you, tossing them aside. He gazes upon your glistening pussy, unconsciously licking his lips. Grabbing your hips, he buries his mouth into your leaking hole, lapping up your juices. He hears you let out a soft moan.

“Oh fuck… your pussy tastes so good, I know I said I wasn’t going to eat you out, but I couldn’t help myself when your pussy was begging for Daddy’s tongue.”

He sits back up, grasping his cock in one hand while he aligns it up to your entrance. Without warning, he begins vigorously thrusting into you. He grabs your ass with both hands, putting all his energy into every trust. At first, he could hear quiet whimpers come out of you, watching your fingers claw into the sheets. He readjusts himself so that he was kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to pound into your cervix. Now you were letting out loud moans, pushing your hips back to meet his eager thrusts.

“Oh, what a good girl you are! Daddy’s perfect little angel.”

His hands run up the sides of your body, slipping beneath your shirt and grabbing hold of your breasts. You moan his name as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

Again with you not addressing him correctly…

He lets out a sigh, deciding it was fine, you get so drunk on his cock, so he decided a little lapse in the rules in the heat of passion was fine. Grabbing hold of your chest, he pulls you up so that your back is against him as he continues to pound into your hungry pussy.

“My princess loves Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she? You can’t hide that from me no matter how hard you try,” he growls before pulling out of you and turning you around to face him.

He pushes you back down onto the bed, pushing your legs forward and draping them onto his shoulders. He sheathes himself back into you, leaning in to devour your lips.

“D-Daddy… I’m… I’m… I’m gonna…”

“Don’t cum yet, sweetie, wait and cum with Daddy, ok?”

You nod, letting out a whimper and leaning your head back onto the pillow, your eyes rolling into your head as he continues his assault on your pussy. He can feel that he’s close to his release; in preparation for this his thrusts become short but intoxicatingly deep, causing him to let out a low, animalistic growl.

His growl must have affected you because he felt you instantly cum on his cock, causing him to hit his own release, shooting hot ropes of cum into you as he pressed into you. He held himself there for several minutes until his cock stopped pulsating. He slowly pulled out and looked down at you, admiring his handiwork. He watched his cum start to leak out, using his fingers, he scooped it up and pushed it back into you. He didn’t want to waste a drop.

“Stay like that ok, sweetie? Daddy has to go get the keys to bring you out of timeout.”

Grabbing his sweatpants off the floor, he slips them back on before walking back out into the kitchen. The sun was just starting to come into the windows. He walks up to a safe that’s embedded into the wall; it's the kind with the turn style lock. He inputs the combination, grabbing a couple keys from it before shutting it. He goes back into the bedroom, smiling when he sees you haven’t moved.

What a good girl.

He walks up to the bed, unlocking your collar first before removing the chains from your wrists and ankles. He then picks you up effortlessly, bridal style, taking you out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom. He gently lays you down, giving you a kiss on the forehead. He then climbs into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, falling asleep within seconds.

Part 4

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut

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awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce · 10 months

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Peace At Last

A purely self-indulgent Ten x Reader fic because I just love Ten so much okay! (gif made by me)

Let me know what you think!

Read on ao3

Tagging some people I’ve recently followed who I think might like it: @denaliwrites @tatennant @doctor-donnaa @quite-right-too @theetherealbloom @my-lonely-angel @casasupernovas @kbishop @tennant @raining-stars-somewhere-else @davidtennan-t

Ten x Reader, she/her/hers pronouns, one use of Y/N

(Sorry if this causes pain especially since it’s the last episode with Fourteen and David Tennant as The Doctor today. Wishing everyone so much love and hope you can cope with the pain we will all be experiencing in 5 hours!)

They bumped into each other.

Literally.

He wasn’t looking where he was going, just trying to focus on not collapsing in the street before he could make it back to the TARDIS, and she was coming out of a shop.

This was almost the end.

He could feel it.

He felt it when he saw Rose but he couldn’t let go.

Not yet.

He had one more stop.

He wanted to be near where she lived.

He just wanted to be near her.

One last time.

He didn’t want to wipe her memory but he had to.

It wasn’t like it was with Donna but he knew that one day she would die because of him and he didn’t want that.

He couldn’t bear the thought.

It had to be done so she could live and she never would have left of her own accord. She would never leave him willingly so what other choice did he have?

Especially after trying to change time and becoming The Time Lord Victorious. Look how that turned out.

Adelaide Brooke still died only it was his fault instead of it being an accident.

“Oh shit! Sorry! I should have been looking where I was going!” A voice said.

“No, it’s m-” He knew that voice. His luck really was great(!)

He must’ve paused for a beat too long because she spoke again. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

That was her all over. Always worrying and caring about others (him especially).

“Yeah! I’m fine!” He replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just feeling a bit under-the-weather. Winter and all, you know?” His voice didn’t sound like him. It was nervous, slightly high-pitched, and shook a little. He hoped that she didn’t know that there was something wrong.

“I know. You might want to invest in some actual winter clothes though to keep you warm. Converse and winter are not the best combination,” she laughed, looking him up and down at his unusual (to her now anyway) attire.

He could’ve cried and hugged her at hearing the jibe she’s told him multiple times while travelling with him. Instead, he forced himself to laugh and smile at her.

“Yeah, I suppose I should. Maybe one day,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck. A habit that he had developed when he was nervous.

She would have noticed and usually tried to comfort him. But not now. The thought made his hearts ache.

“Sorry but do I know you?” She asked, staring at him with a slight frown. His hearts leapt into his throat. “You just seem so familiar. What’s your name?”

He quickly composed himself before replying with a classic phrase. “No, sorry, I don’t think you do. I guess I just have one of those faces. Name’s David. David Smith.”

She had told him to stop with the John Smith alias as “no-one believes that’s your name. I may as well call myself Jane Doe.” So he had changed it as soon as he wiped her mind. Just in case he ever saw her again and the name John Smith made her remember.

“David…” She trailed off, as if she was trying to place the name, still slightly frowning until the crease between her eyebrows eased. “I guess you do just face on of those faces. Sorry about that,” she finished, smiling sheepishly.

He mentally released a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding.

“No worries,” he replied, smiling to try to ease her embarrassment that he knew she was feeling.

She may not remember him but he still knew her like the back of every hand he’s ever had.

They stood there for a few moments, longer than two seemingly strangers should, just smiling at each other before she looked away, a light blush colouring her already flushed cheeks from the cold.

His hearts ached again and pain filled his entire being.

He would never get to see her blush from embarrassment due to looking at him for too long again.

“I should probably go before the snow gets worse,” she said.

He looked around and noticed that the snow had started to get heavier since they had been talking.

“Of course. Get home safe.” His voice cracked. Home should be in the TARDIS with him.

“You too. Before you go,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as he was turning the leave.

He could feel the pain of having to leave her almost bring him to his knees due to feeling her touch again. It had felt so long since he had felt that and he never wanted her to stop.

He would never feel her comforting touch or her hand in his again and he was starting to break

She was rummaging through her bag and took out a blue scarf. TARDIS blue.

“Here,” she said softly as she leaned up on her tip toes and wrapped it around his neck. “I don’t know why but I just bought this. It’s not really my thing and I don’t have anyone else to give it to but there was something in my mind that urged me to buy it. Maybe this was fate,” she chuckled. “There! Looks great!” She grinned, smoothing out the scarf and his breath caught as her fingers grazed the back of his head.

“Thank you, he responded quietly, tears filling his eyes “Truly. Thank you.” He took her hands in his and kissed the back of them.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, just as quietly as him, and blushed once more.

He let go of her hands and took a step back. He swore that he saw disappointment on her face at that.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it for too long as she had thrown her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, taking a deep breath of him in.

He wasn’t sure if his hearts had stopped completely or if they were beating so fast that he couldn’t feel them beating properly anymore.

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, taking in the familiar and comforting scent.

The hug ended as quickly as it had started but before he could feel too disappointed, she had placed her hands on his shoulders, almost wrapping her arms around his neck like the scarf was, and pressed her lips to his cheek.

She stepped back and smiled brightly at him

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she said as she walked away.

He was frozen.

Did she just-?

Could she-?

No.

She couldn’t remember him.

Could she?

His brain was working faster than normal.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he called after her before he knew was he was doing.

She briefly turned back and waved, that beautiful smile still on her lips, lighting up her whole face.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered, turning the corner as quickly as he could to find the TARDIS before him.

He could feel the old girl humming happily in his head and he smiled at her in return.

The image of his love didn’t leave his mind.

Not even as he noticed Ood Sigma.

Not even as he started to feel the pain of death returning.

Even when the Ood started singing to him and he felt himself burning, he could still see her.

Her smile bright and warm, helping him find peace.

At last.

~ A few streets away ~

“Huh. That was weird,” she said out loud.

Shrugging, she entered a café, still smiling and felt a warmth that travelled deep into her soul.

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tojifile · 9 months

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@Dazai Osamu . . . ( ﾉ´ヮ`) ﾉ

Tags: ada!dazai, camgirl!reader, mentions of sex, suggestive, pining, cursing

A/N: Since a lot of people liked the first part I’m going to write chapter two. No, they don’t have sex. And Yes, the chapter title is a Taylor Swift reference. No, I am not a swiftie, I am a casual enjoyer. (December Mo: Hi guys, this will be my LAST post with the old style and probably the last time I’ll be doing a long, drawn-out fic. The old title was ‘Whiskey on Ice’ so that explains what I said before.)

Inspo: Mingwa’s BJ Alex. Links: Part 1 , Masterlist

Camgirl’s Crush – 💋

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to a bar with me tonight, since you did say I was such a good boy today.” Dazai whispered seductively in your ear. You felt the heat of his breath on your neck, “O- okay..” you nervously spoke. Dazai had a way of making you feel nervous at times, especially when his moves are sensual.

You’ve experienced teasing and flirting before, but when he whispers in your ear, when he pays attention to your idiosyncrasies, when he takes you out on little dates; only to disguise it as “work lunch” you feel—special.

Dazai was still holding you by the waist as you walked back to the agency to clock out. You told him that the both of you had to do it before going to the bar to which Dazai reluctantly agreed; he just wanted to make you happy. “Osamu-kun, people might make up stories if they see us together like this..”

Like he cared anyways. He chuckled at your worries, “Ah darling! You don’t need to worry about that! Pretty soon, those rumors would be true anyways, yeah?” Without thinking, you immediately respond, “yeah!”

You then realized what you just said. Your face turned red and you looked away from Dazai. “I- ‘m.. sorry.” You nervously mumbled. Dazai found your actions adorable! You were just so cute, he wanted to keep you all to himself.

Once you got to the agency, Dazai hurriedly clocked the both of you out while you waited for him downstairs. While he was upstairs, you thought of your moments with Dazai, you wanted him so bad. You’d fantasize about him during your streams and sometimes—at work. You were definitely not proud of that.

“Darling!” Dazai’s words snapped you back into reality. He ran to you then scooped you up into his arms, carrying you roughly to the bar. “Osamu!! Put me down!” You huffed.

But he didn’t, and you were happy. He almost makes you want to quit streaming. You just want to be his and you hope he wants to be yours. You just held onto him tightly, silently hoping he liked you back.

Dazai smiled softly as you held onto him tightly. He liked you like this, sweet and vulnerable. If there was one thing on his mind, it’d be if there was someone else or not, if you heard of him—IU, and if you could hear the love in him, waiting to burst.

His touchiness with you didn’t stop when you got to the bar. Not that you expected it to, but it was quite the opposite. He placed you on top of him, with your back to his chest as his bandaged arms encircled your waist.

He bought you drinks, obviously, he wanted you drunk. Dazai wanted to take advantage of his cute little coworker who may or may not be his favorite cam girl, not that he watches any other.

“Darling..” he whispered in a deep, sultry voice. “Wanna go home to my place? I’ll take care of you, I promise.” You only nodded in response. You knew you shouldn’t, you knew this couldn’t be. But you were only human, a slave to your urges. And right now, what you want is Dazai Osamu.

He gently laid you on his bed once you got to his apartment. Can you believe he carried you all the way there? It was his fault anyways, he got you so drunk!

“So cute..” he whispered underneath his breath. “‘Samu..” you called out softly. You then put your arms up, opening and closing your fists, wanting him to give you a hug. God! If you were sober this would’ve been embarrassing, acting like a fucking baby?!

“Hold me!!” You whined, to which Dazai chuckled. But he still happily complied. Taking off your shoes and sitting beside you on his bed, pulling you closer to his body. “Such a cute girl..” he whispered as he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

As the clock struck 10PM he saw that there was no new livestream, but there was an announcement. But he knew you had typed this out when you were waiting for him downstairs as he clocked the both of you out. Such a sneaky girl.

There was no going back now that Dazai knew that his adorable, seemingly innocent coworker was a cam girl.

@toxicramune @oh-my-beel @nymphsdomain @morinuu – Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

++ @yasu-masashige @ninin8nin (who asked for pt.2)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #tojifile

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yeonjuns-beanie · 1 year

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Party Monster

warnings: 18+, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, sex on someone else’s bed, marking, voyeurism, jealous dalton

summary: you convince dalton to go to a halloween frat party with you. after concluding that the party was nothing you thought it would be, you guys decide to make more of your experience.

a/n: im so sorry for this taking so long, life got in the way and i was suffering from such terrible writer’s block. i hope i did your ask justice! i may be a little slower when it comes to requests n stuff now due to uni starting up and me working on another fic atm. anyways, i hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! ~nero

word count: 6.8k

dalton lambert x female reader

“You have got to be kidding me?”

Dropping your shoulders in defeat, you looked up at the ceiling before stomping over to Dalton similar to that of a three year old. Grabbing his hands, it urged him to look up at you, only to be met with a pout that you knew was his weak spot.

“C’mooon. I think it would be fun! At the very least, we can people watch and make fun of the morons there.”

“Oh, and be just as bad as them?”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, knowing Dalton was getting a kick out of using your words against yourself.

“Besides, I can’t imagine Nick would want to see me anymore this semester.”

That was your in. That’s how you can get him to go.

“Okay, but it’s a costume party. We can put you in makeup or you could wear a stupid mask or something and they literally won’t know that it’s you. Pleaseee, Dalton. I think it would be fun.”

It was Dalton’s turn to sigh now. He had already given in when you asked in the first place he just enjoyed giving you a hard time. He liked knowing you wanted him. It filled him with that warm fuzzy feeling that had him battling cuteness aggression every waking second, but also had him warding off feelings that were much more indecorous.

“Fine, we can go. But what are we gonna be?”

Squealing in excitement, you ripped your hands out of his and brought them up to cup his face, placing multiple kisses on his lips. Pulling away you thanked him profusely, needing to express not only your excitement but your gratitude for him tagging along with you.

“I’m glad you asked. I was hoping you’d be okay with Tiff and Chucky?”

Dalton didn’t say anything he just looked at you. A look that was hard to discern. You couldn’t tell if he hated the idea or was thinking of something else. Dalton was quick to ease your mind as he finally spoke.

“You mean, that asshole gets to look at you looking all sexy?”

Your brows furrowed, “What asshole?”

“Nick.”

“Ohhh.”

Moving away from in front of Dalton, you flopped on his bed next to him, your arms starfishing across the mattress. You smiled to yourself trying to lessen it by rolling your lips around your teeth. Taking the hand closest to Dalton, you raised it up and ghosted slowly over his back.

“Well, it’s not like Nick gets to touch me. He can only look.”

Dalton rolled his head dramatically to look down at you, trying his damnedest not to give in to your antics. Looking down at you though, he could never hold his moue for as long as he wanted to. All of his other emotions of lovesick admiration overshadowed his feigned annoyance.

“Not like it makes it any better.”

Sighing, you sat up on the bed and moved to straddle Dalton. Cupping his face, you held eye contact with him that was so intense it would probably make any other person crumble. With Dalton though, you could see the hearts forming in his eyes as you stared him down. A softer, more pouty version of possession swimming in his irises.

“You know I only want you right? No amount of staring, flirting, or whatever could take me away from you.”

You didn’t give him a moment to respond, flushing your lips against his in a kiss that was nearing the edge of searing. You found it endearing how small flashes of his possessiveness would flare up at the mere thought of someone else taking you in. It made you feel wanted and it lit a fire in you every time it happened. His jealousy was silent, brooding, and somewhat submissive but always present.

Dalton’s hands roamed the sides of your body as he melted into your kiss. Soaking up every bit of you any chance he got. As the kiss became more heated, your hands wandered down to his collarbone slowly snaking their way to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers in his sandy brown locks. Dalton’s hands landed on the rough fabric of your pants, finding enough play in the material to knead the plush fat of your ass.

Puppeteering your body in his hands, he rolled your hips against his and you could feel the small tent forming in his pants. Pulling a small muffled moan from you, you pulled away in an attempt to catch your breath as well as to cool down the now sexually charged atmosphere. Dalton peered up at you, eyes blown.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Cause we have to go shopping for our costumes and if we don’t stop now we won’t stop.”

Standing up from his lap, you began to walk over toward your bag to signal your urgency to leave. But before you could take a full step forward, Dalton wrapped his fingers gingerly around your wrist and pulled you back toward him.

“What if I don’t wanna stop?”

“Daltonnn.”

He was staring at you so smugly. You knew what he was doing and you knew you had to be stronger this one time. You couldn’t give in or you definitely weren’t leaving his dorm for the rest of the day.

“C’mon baby, we can finish what we started when we get back. But the party is tomorrow and I don’t want us to have to get all our shit tomorrow.”

Dramatically groaning, Dalton lifted himself to his feet and waited for your cue to leave. Grabbing your bag, you turned around to look up at him. A made up tune forming with your words.

“Love youuu.”

Dalton hummed and rolled his eyes, kissing your forehead in response. Grabbing his hand, you guys left his dorm and you pulled out your phone to order an Uber to the nearest Halloween store. Walking towards one of the main parking lots on campus, you placed your pick up spot and waited.

With only a few minutes passing by, the car pulled up and the two of you climbed into the backseat. Buckling yourself in, Dalton’s hand quickly found purchase on your lower thigh rubbing gently on the inner side of it.

The ride to the Halloween store was short which you were thankful for because you weren’t sure how much longer you could ignore Dalton’s hands on you. Thanking the driver, you got out of the car a sudden rush of excitement coursing through you as you looked at the building in front of you. You had many pleasures in life but one of the ones that you cherished the most was the popup Halloween shops. The joy you had centered around Halloween never failed to make you feel like a kid all over again and you wished you could feel this way for more than just the first half of the fall season.

Walking into the store, you almost forgot Dalton was tailing behind you as your excitement dragged you through the store wanting to browse through all the new items that were featured in this year’s lineup. Noticing the Halloween section, you saw a sweatshirt that you simply couldn’t ignore. There were homages to the movie adorning the sleeves and the front and back of the sweatshirt.

“This is so cool!”

Dalton came up behind you, taking the sweatshirt into his own hands.

“Yeah, it is.”

Trailing down the sleeve of the pullover you found the pricetag and hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t that it was too expensive, you just decided you would come back and get it after you got paid because you knew you needed more than a few things for your matching costumes first. Walking away you motioned for Dalton to follow you to the section you needed, but what you didn’t see was Dalton grabbing the sweatshirt as you turned around, his own plan in motion.

As you guys circled the store one last time, you decided that you had everything and made your way to the checkout. You went up first laying out all your items and Dalton was called up to the other cashier. Getting your bag full of items, you walked over to Dalton and he was grinning at you as you guys walked out of the store. You didn’t realize how much time you guys spent in there until you were met with the colors of dusk painting the sky. Focusing your attention on Dalton again you cocked your head.

“What is it?”

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the top half of the Halloween pullover you were looking at. Your eyes widened a delighted shock not expecting that to be the reason behind his grin.

“Dalton! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

“I was gonna come back and get it next week.”

“Well, what if they don’t have it next week? Now, you’ll for sure have it.”

You stepped closer to hug him, thanking him as you nestled into his frame. Pulling away from him, Dalton motioned over to one of the food joints in the shopping center that you were in and you both decided that you should grab something before you headed back to campus. As you guys were waiting for your food, you ordered another Uber so that by the time your food would be ready, you’d be able to get in the car relatively immediately.

Your timing was impeccable because right as you guys walked out, your ride pulled up right out front. Laying your bags in the backseat first, you and Dalton filed in after making sure to hold everything in your laps. Getting back to campus, you suddenly felt a wave of tiredness wipe over your body. Dropping your bags by the door, you set the bag of food on the small table in the back of his dorm. You guys ate in a comfortable silence and you relished in the domestic nature you were sharing.

Wiping your hands off with a napkin, you threw your empty container back in the plastic bag and leaned back in your chair. Dalton mimicked your movements and a small smile crossed his face as he looked over at you warmly.

“Wanna just sleep here tonight? You look pretty tired.”

Closing your eyes, you nodded contently.

“Can I wear one of your shirts?”

“Course you can.”

Helping yourself to one of his drawers, you found one of his oversized shirts and changed. Leaving your clothes in a pile on the other bed in the room. Climbing into his bed, you made yourself more than comfortable in his space, wrapping yourself in his blankets. Bending your head to look back at him, you were met with a soft closed mouth smile.

“I’m coming.”

Nodding, you slowly let sleep blanket itself over your eyes and body and drifted away to a place of peace. If only you knew the reason why he didn’t immediately follow behind you was just so he could admire your soft form as you slept. So that he could keep the mental image of his forever ingrained in his mind. Somehow, his body reacted before his mind and he found himself sketching the image in front of him. Believing that the only way he could truly savor the moment in front of him was to immortalize it with charcoal and a piece of paper.

~*~

As you woke up the next morning, the sun that peeked through the window was a little warmer than usual signaling to you that you most definitely slept in and missed your class. As your sleep ridden body moved to wake up a little further, your face nudged against Dalton’s body. Your moving around rustled Dalton out of his sleep and as he slowly blinked his eyes open he muttered a small morning and rolled back onto his side. You chuckled to yourself,

“I'm almost positive it's past noon, but yeah good morning.”

Worming around Dalton’s body, you crawled out of bed and walked over to the table to swipe through all of your notifications on your phone. Seeing the time, you surely had enough time to make it to your next class, but you awarded yourself the liberty of skipping. Your justification was that you hadn’t missed one class this semester so one day wouldn’t kill you.

As you put your phone down, you noticed the sketch laying idly on the desk. Taking a closer look at it, you realized it was of you. A soft expression displayed across your face as something warm and similar to muffled elation glowed in your chest. Dalton pushed himself up from the bed yawning and not yet realizing that you had seen the drawing. Walking over to Dalton you gave him a quick hug and announced your leave, grabbing all your things before you headed to the door.

You wanted to give yourself enough time to get ready and not feel rushed, knowing that every time you got ready you never really stayed on track. Catching strays from time blindness, breaking out in song and dance, and the irresistible urge to just lay down in your bed midway through. Walking through the halls of Dalton’s dorm, you made your way across to the other dorm building, taking the elevator up to your floor.

Making your way into your room, you immediately flopped on the bed, mentally taking note that you’d start getting ready in half an hour. Scrolling on your phone, you blinked those 30 minutes away, groaning as you forced yourself to start your routine. Every time you got ready to go out somewhere, you always wondered if you actually enjoyed the whole ordeal. You always came to the same conclusion, you did, you just hated the process.

From the attention you garnered from whatever outfit you conjured up, to deciding what asset of your body you’d accentuate or the makeup you decided to do, you’d be lying to say you didn’t enjoy it all.

Hours ticked by and the sun began to tuck its bright body behind the mountains as you added the finishing touches to your makeup. Dotting a beauty mark above your lip, you glance over your face feeling more than satisfied with the outcome. Digging through the plastic bag, you pulled out all the items you got the night before. Pulling your fishnets over your plush thighs, you admired your curves staring back at you on the mirror you had hanging off your door.

Grabbing the white tutu, you shimmied it over your hips and you felt a certain wave of excitement flood through you as you wrapped your body in the white corset. You fixed your boobs so that they were bordering on spilling out of the top, and cinched the waistline as much as you could so that it still snatched your waist but allowed you the freedom to breathe.

You were pulled out of the trance of admiring yourself as you heard your phone vibrating on your bed. You had a few messages from Dalton, the last one asking if you could help him with his hair. Responding to him, you slipped into your platform Doc Martens and threw all of your essentials for the night in a small clutch that you knew you wouldn’t lose. Shutting off the light in your room you made the short walk over to Dalton’s building, basking in all of the eyes that were ogling your form. There were a few low whistles and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Knocking on Dalton’s door, you were staring at the floor when the door opened. As his eyes landed on you, they widened and quickly he attempted to rest them trying to contain his thoughts. Looking up as the door opened you smiled at him, excited to see him in his costume and his makeup mostly done. Walking into the room, you set your stuff down on his bed.

“So what did you need help with?”

Dalton didn’t say anything, but the shaking of the colored hairspray can made you turn around.

“I didn’t think I could make it even if I did it myself.”

You motioned toward the desk so he could sit down and you could help him with his hair. Taking fairly large pieces, you sprayed the color a little further than normal so that the color wouldn’t crunch and cake around his strands of hair. You got a little closer with color when you sprayed his roots framing his face. Feeling complete with your job, you now settled for dramatics just spraying randomly and not really on his hair just more in the air.

“Viola!”

Dalton stood up and seeing him in his full attire was doing something to your brain. The bloodied stitches on his face, the ragged nest you turned his hair into, and the bloody knife he had curled in his fingertips. Albeit, plastic and very much fake, all of the details were unlocking something in your brain that you didn’t pay much attention to until this very moment. His voice pulled you from your thoughts before they got too detailed in the lewd direction they were going.

“Do I look ok-hey I know that look.”

You shook your head so lightly that it could’ve been mistaken as a twitch but Dalton knew better.

“I take it you like it then?”

He walked over toward you, wrapping his hands around your waist to bring you closer. With the loss of space between you two, it was hard to move your gaze anywhere else but him. Feeling stuck under his gaze, the smugness on his features was becoming grossly aware to you and you opted to push him away dramatically, not ready to admit your truths to him.

“C’mon, we should get going anyway. I don’t want it to be too crazy when we get there.”

Grabbing your bag and his hand, you headed way for the door and made your way out of the building. With the sun now gone and night fully taking over the sky, the slight chill of the October air made itself very known to you thanks to your lack of clothing. As you neared the frat house, you could feel the bass of the music almost rattle the earth beneath your feet. There was a slew of people out of the front lawn, people congregating on the front balcony of the house, and some poor bastard was hunched over in a set of bushes meeting his demise quite early in the night.

As you and Dalton reached the front lawn, a frat member was holding a tray of what looked like jello shots.

“Care for a brain?”

You glanced at the small plastic cup and were genuinely surprised to see such effort put into a jello shot. Let alone for it to have been made by a bunch of meathead college bros. Not even thinking twice, you grabbed a shot and tongued the jello out of the cup making an obnoxiously loud slurp when it fully separated from the plastic and plopped in your mouth.

What you didn’t notice was the jaundiced glare your boyfriend was giving the frat member as the boy frantically switched between your tits which were on the verge of spilling out and the way you were tonguing the shot. Putting the cup back on the tray, you looked at the boy through your lashes silently telling him that you knew exactly what you were doing and there was nothing he could act on because your boyfriend was hanging off your arm.

Looking back to Dalton, you motioned for him to grab a shot as well.

“Make sure you grab one, babe. Might be the only thing we get our hands on.”

Dalton softened his gaze at the sound of your voice but still, he didn’t drop his focus off the frat boy. Picking up the plastic, he began to take a step forward, but you nailed yourself in place still stuck on the boy. Your voice was dripping in satin lust, wanting to sweeten up the boy and rile up Dalton to get him right where you wanted him.

“Mind if I take another one?”

This time the boy gave you a very animated nod as his gaze flickered behind you in the direction of Dalton. Turning around, you saw nothing out of the ordinary so you picked up another cup and squeezed the boy on his bicep.

“Thank you…?” you paused, waiting for him to give you his name.

“...Chase!”

“Thank you, Chase.”

Now Dalton was pulling you toward the entrance of the house, wanting to be anywhere else than where Chase was. He knew people would look at you, how could they not? You were strikingly beautiful and of course, you looked even more tantalizing when you had yourself done up with makeup and an outfit that would leave anyone speechless. The problem lied with Dalton not being able to fight that feeling in his chest when he was watching someone else take you in for only a fraction of what you were worth to him. They didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way.

As you reached the stairs of the house, you halted your body again to stop Dalton in his tracks. When his arm jolted back with you only then did he turn around and you saw all the emotions swarming his mind and face. Pulling him closer to you, you brought his hand up that was still holding the small plastic cup.

“Take it, might ease your nerves for a little bit.”

Punctuating your words with a feather light kiss on his lips, you watched his shoulders relax as he took a deep breath and brought the cup to his mouth, tonguing the jello out the same way you did. As you watched him you felt a familiar pang of need squeeze between your thighs but you quickly ignored it, not wanting to leave so soon. Dalton scrunched his face at the taste of the alcohol and tossed the cup somewhere in the grass. Frowning he looked at you.

“How did you drink that so easily, tasted like straight acid!”

Looking down at the second cup you grabbed you thought he was being dramatic. This time as you removed the jello from the cup, you kept your eyes on Dalton the whole time. Your eyes holding a vampish intent. Tossing the cup in the same direction once you emptied it, your eyes blew wide in surprise as you swallowed.

“The first one did not taste like that, what the fuck?”

You coughed, trying to get the harsh taste out of your mouth. Looking toward the front door, you realized there was probably some type of punch inside that would drown on the existing taste.

“Let’s go in.”

When you and Dalton pushed through the corridor of the house the music rattled your chest, there were lights strung up on every possible place. Little ghosts and pumpkins lighting up the room with an ambient orange color. As you pushed through the people you found the kitchen and a massive tub full of red liquid and various fruits. A stack of red solos was next to it and you poured both you and Dalton a glass, filling yours to the brim while his still had a little room.

Guzzling down half of your cup, you refilled a bit more before you motioned for you and Dalton to move to the main room where it was a pile of bodies moving against each other in tandem with the music that was bouncing off the walls. Dalton was slowly sipping away at his drink while you downed another half of your drink finally feeling the combinations of alcohols course through your system.

You moved closer to Dalton so now your bodies were right on top of each other and you moved to the varying beats. The more you moved, the closer you got to grinding on him, and the more prominent the pool in your underwear was getting harder to ignore.

You wrapped one arm around his neck, bringing his head down to meet your forehead and your lips ghosted one another’s causing your breathing to get a little heavier with want. Dalton pulled away from you and yelled out over the music.

“I’m gonna go refill!”

Nodding, you took his wrist as one was holding the cup and the other was occupied by his prop knife. Reaching the kitchen again, you left your cup on the counter leaving the remaining contents in it up for grabs for whoever wanted it. With each step you took back to the kitchen you felt yourself straying further from your inhibitions and becoming more acquainted with your bodily desires.

As Dalton filled his cup up halfway, you clung your body to his from behind. Wrapping your hands around his waist, you let one of them ghost over the front of his overalls, your hand sliding right across his dick. You felt Dalton stiffen up at the action and you would’ve continued but a whistle from behind you caught your attention.

Standing up straight, you turned around and your eyes met Nick’s in a half assed Dracula costume. With his plastic party fangs dangling off his index finger you realized he was the one that cat called you over the music. In your drunken daze, you failed to realize the way you were hanging off of Dalton gave anyone behind you a perfect view of your fishnet clad ass peeking out from your tutu. You felt Dalton straighten up behind you, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You couldn’t help the way your face moved when you were drunk. It was involuntarily submissive. Your eyebrows constantly furrowed upwards, your eyes were always wide trying to hide how inebriated you were, and your lips were always slightly parted. When Nick approached you two, you gazed at him in a way that any sober person would confuse for interest.

“You’re a pretty little doll, aren’t ya?”

You felt Dalton’s hand tighten on your waist as if you were gonna run away from him. You tried to pretend like you weren’t as drunk as you were but your body outran your mind. Within seconds you were overly smiley with Nick, responding probably too excitedly for Dalton.

“You think so?! I thought I made a very pretty doll too. But! I wouldn’t be such a pretty doll if it weren’t for my Chucky.”

You turned your body almost posing for Nick and his friends as you placed your hands flat on Dalton’s chest and looked behind you. Your eyelids grew heavy with want while you flaunted you and your boyfriend off. Turning back to face them you pointed to your chest, putting a spotlight on the fake ‘Chucky’ tattoo you drew hours before.

“See, I’ve got his name on me forever too!”

Nick and his friends erupted into a fit of giggles at your drunken displays of affection but Dalton was not enjoying a single second of it. Wondering if you were doing this on purpose or if it really was just you having lost all sober obligations. Dalton again put his hand on your hip and squeezed your side trying to discreetly get your attention. Whipping your head back in his direction his plans were foiled.

“What is it, baby?”

Dalton awkwardly laughed and shook his head saying that it was nothing. But the quick flash of attention on him allowed Nick to recognize who your “Chucky” actually was.

“How did you get in here again dude?”

For the first time in this entire interaction, Dalton finally piped up.

“It’s not like you have a bouncer at the front door.”

“Maybe I should if it means your weird ass is gonna keep coming around.”

Shaking your head, you started waving your hands in the air to get the two men's attention off of each other. Stepping closer to Nick so you wouldn’t have to yell anymore, you smiled as you spoke.

“I promise, no weird shit tonight! He honestly didn’t even wanna come, but I made him tag along with me.”

Stepping back toward Dalton, Nick snuffed extra air through his nose, and a tight lipped smile spreading across his lips, he spoke again his attention focused on you.

“At least you’re prettier than his last one. Don’t know if I could stand looking at two clowns again. Even if it would be fitting for tonight.”

Again a chorus of almost robotic giggles came from his surrounding friends and suddenly your good mood was bruised by his insult.

“Have fun tonight then, the both of you. Especially you, dollface.”

Nick ended his words by taking his thumb and index finger to raise your face to look up at his before he walked away. A scowl took place of his previous smile as he leveled out his gaze to be face to face with Dalton. As Nick and his friends disappeared into the crowd you turned around to Dalton suddenly feeling kind of gross after Nick touched you. The lasting bit of the interaction sobered up your mind just enough to where you could feel the change in Dalton’s energy.

Dalton quickly chugged the rest of what was in his cup, needing a little more liquid courage to power him through what he was about to do. Setting the empty cup on the counter, you placed your hands on his shoulders trying to not only stable yourself but also to get a gauge on his vibe. When Dalton finally looked at you, you could tell he was pissed. So when he grabbed your hand and began dragging you through the crowds of people you assumed it was because he wanted to leave. But when he took you to the staircase your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

You were met with silence. And as fast as Dalton was moving through the house, you were close to tripping over your own feet. When you reached the top of the staircase, Dalton made a beeline to the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Opening the door, he left it wide open as he pulled you inside mumbling to himself.

“Can’t believe he touched you.”

Looking around at the walls you realized you were in Nick’s bedroom.

“What?... Dalton, why are we in Nick’s room?”

You waddled over to Dalton wrapping your arms around him. Beginning to speak, he cut you off as he gently brought his hand under your chin, your eyes being hypnotized by his own.

“Baby, why are we-

“-We’re in his room because I want him to think about this every time he lays his head down.”

Before you had a chance to question what he meant, Dalton had rushed his lips onto yours, suffocating you with his need. Surprised by his sudden movement, you grabbed onto him, your hands docking on either side of his face deepening the kiss.

Dalton walked your bodies backward so that your knees would buckle once they hit the edge of Nick’s bed. As your body fumbled onto the mattress, Dalton leaned you back caging you underneath him. You moved your body backwards to the center of the bed and Dalton followed your lead. He broke your kiss only to start a lecherous assault on your neck. Letting your head roll back, you leaned into the feeling of his lips on your body.

Every time his lips left your skin, they left a raging fire in its wake that sent rapid signals to your core. Reminding you, that your feelings were being wildly amplified by the amount of alcohol rushing through your system. You didn’t have the capacity to control the moans that were evading your mouth you were just completely soaked in the feeling of Dalton. As Dalton trailed his body down to the valley of your breasts, he slowly unhooked each latch of your corset watching how your soft, plush skin escaped the confines of the fabric. His hand drew a line down from your collarbone to your sternum before tracing a path around your tit, slowly teasing around the sensitive skin. Before you had the chance to whine about the lack of feeling, his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple while his mouth encased the other one.

Rolling your hips up to his, you felt his hardened cock brush against your clothed heat. Your breathing escalated, the adrenaline of the brewing carnality becoming more apparent to you as you lost yourself in the feeling. Your hand webbed itself in Dalton’s hair feeling the tackiness of the hairspray stick itself to your fingers. Dalton popped off your nipple, a string of spit following his mouth leaving a brisk chill on your skin as the string broke and settled onto your skin.

He placed kisses along your chest but they slowly turned into bites and the closer Dalton got to your neck, the more the bites turned into hickeys. Bright red markings identifying you as undoubtedly his.

“Dalton, I need you.”

Dalton pulled away from you to take in your lust stricken form, admiring you in such an obscene way. As your eyes found his, you could make out how dilated his pupils were even in the low light of the bedroom. Leaning up to kiss him, your hands traveled to the buckles of his overalls unhooking them with ease as you slid the rest of the fabric down as much as you could.

You grabbed the bunch of fabric and used it to pull him closer to you so that you could feel some type of friction from his bulge that was being hidden. Breaking the kiss, you needed to vocalize your need for him because he wasn’t moving fast enough for you.

“Baby, please. I-

“You think he knows how to fuck you like I do?”

In your coveted daze, you didn’t register who ‘he’ was right away. If anything you had forgotten about Nick and your interaction with him entirely once he walked away from you two. Your lack of response drove Dalton to become impatient, allowing himself to be overcome by his jealousy.

“Flirting with him like that. You think he could make you feel as good as I do?”

Dalton was dry humping you, making it all the more difficult to form a coherent response for him as you were being influenced by your own lubricity.

“I-I wasn’t fl-flirting with him, I swear!”

“Sure, you flashing him this tattoo on your tit wasn’t flirting.”

You were tripping over your own words, unable to form a believable excuse. You didn’t want to give up the fact that maybe, everything you did tonight was on purpose. To have Dalton rough you up a bit and make you feel small with his need for you. His voice ripped you from your thoughts letting new ones take place.

“And you did it in front of me, little slut. You knew it’d get me like this, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t bare the waiting or interrogation any longer. You need him to touch you. You needed to feel him on you, inside of you, you just needed him. So you confessed.

“Yes! I did, I did. I just wanted you to remind me that I’m yours. I need you so bad.”

Dalton let his overalls slide down to his mid thigh and he removed his underwear just enough so that his rosy tipped cock could spring free. Your cunt fluttered around nothing as your eyes landed on it, fantasizing already about the feeling. Dalton snaked his finger down to your slit, swiping up to graze across your clit and your body shuddered at the feeling. Squeezing around nothing yet again.

“You’re soaked, baby. Getting off on me being mean, yeah?”

“Fuckk! Yes. Please, I need you inside of me Dalton. Only you.”

You were so horny that you were about to start grinding against the air to just imagine something subsiding your wanton ache between your legs. Maybe it was the begging, maybe it was the mental connection you shared with him but suddenly, Dalton grabbed your legs and dragged you to the edge of bed. His fingers tangled themselves in your fishnets ripping a hole right at your crotch. Pulling your panties to the side he teased his cock at your entrance.

“You want it?”

“So fucking bad, baby.”

Out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he slowly slid himself into your hot, seductive cunt. The stretch of his cock was sapid and had you rolling into his hips trying to fuck yourself on him discreetly. Your back was arched and your nails were digging into the sheets so tightly that you thought you heard a rip. When Dalton bottomed out inside of you your moans were at full volume, most certainly echoing off the walls of the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care seeing as the music downstairs was so loud. Dalton set a pace that was feral and unrelenting, your pussy clenching erratically as the tip of his cock abused that soft rigid spot inside of you.

As your moans grew in frequency, Dalton leaned down into your neck sucking more hickeys into your skin that wasn’t already tainted. Your hands left the bed and opted to curl your fingers into Dalton’s shoulder, his shirt protecting him from the crescent moons your nails would’ve left. He could feel that you were arriving at the peak of your arousal, picking up his speed, you two were torn from each other as a voice bellowed into the room.

“What the fuck!”

Dalton didn’t stop moving, but when your eyes landed on Nick standing in the doorway of his bedroom you couldn’t stop your body from the overwhelming rapture it felt as you jumped headfirst into ecstasy. Your body was twitching in ardor, your saintly cunt squeezing around Dalton as your eyes flickered between the two men. Dalton turned around to Nick, a sense of dominance that you’d never felt from him before dripping from his tongue.

“Thought you’d want to see your doll laid out on your bed–what’s wrong? Wish it was you instead?”

Dalton cracked a smile that was so dissolute and prurient that it removed you from all resolve to retain any form of modesty. Your cunt begging for more. Your hand reached up grabbing at Dalton’s shirt and you whined out for him, making a spectacle for Nick.

“Fuck me again. Please please, Dalton. I need it, I need to feel you cum inside of me. Paint me as yours.”

Dalton smiled at you as he felt your walls fluttered around him as you begged.

“Yeah? You like him watching me ruin you?”

You nodded frantically too fucked out to form anything clearly besides a needy ‘please’. Dalton began fucking you again and as you looked down to watch his cock rush in and out of you, your head fell back into the bed. Opening your eyes, you glanced over at Nick who was still frozen in the doorway. You raised your hand to wave goodbye to him with just your fingers, but before the sentiment could be registered, Dalton pulled out of you and flipped you onto your hands and knees.

“Stop entertaining him. One cock not good enough for you?”

His hand found purchase on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the comforter your lipstick definitely staining the fabric. Dalton continued to piston out of you, but as his thrusts became more unsteady you knew his climax was near. You couldn’t see but Dalton turned around again to see Nick walking back into the hallway and as soon as he was out of his sight you felt his hot seed flood your walls.

As Dalton pulled out of you, he rolled your body over onto your back so that he could engulf you in a searing kiss. He slid your panties back over to cover you fully and allowed you to sit up so that you could stuff yourself back into the corset. Fixing himself into his clothes he kissed the top of your head.

“Now when he sees us walk out, you’ll still have me inside of you.”

You felt a different heat rush up to your face that wasn’t from the alcohol. You sighed and when you looked up Dalton had his hand out for you.

“Let’s go home?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

Following behind Dalton, you let him lead you out of the house. When you made it out to the front steps you saw Nick leaning against the house staring out to the lawn. When you passed by him he looked up as you turned around to face him. A wide grin spread on your face as you waved to him knowing there was no way you could worm your way back in that house ever again.

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