#but i need to know how to GET THERE IN THE CONFINES OF THE MOVIE (chef finds trolls‚ trollstice almost happens | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dandylovesturtles · 6 months ago

Note

Using a random number generator for the angst prompts: 20 Starved + 30 Dangerous Temperatures

... and Leo, of course.

OH GOD OK

uh so. I had an idea. and I decided to write it for this ask I got forever ago. And then, uh.

it really

really got out of hand.

This is a pretty dark fic (even for me) and at the current moment in time it is hurt/no comfort. I do intend to write a part 2, probably tomorrow, but as of the time I'm typing this author's note I've been writing for around 5+ hours straight and I need to take a break! So please, if you don't want to read all this without the comfort included, feel free to wait for the next part before reading! I'll link it and the end once it's posted.

Content warnings: Kidnapping, confinement, psychological torture, nonconsensual voyeurism (I guess this is the best way to put this; Leo isn't doing anything sexual but it's still violating), mild violence, HEAVY ANGST, Leo just having the shittiest time possible.

I HOPE?? YOU ENJOY??? hahahaha....

btw this is set between S2 and the movie (though tbh its canon compliance is... /waves hand)

-----

When Leo imagined himself getting captured by some kind of shady, quasi-governmental agency intent on imprisoning mutants, it was never anything like this.

When he let his mind go there, he always pictured that he would be strapped to a table. Maybe muzzled. That scientists would stand over him, scalpels and drills in hand, and start to take him apart. That they'd examine him piece by piece, and wouldn't give him any anesthesia while they did it.

But there is no table, no muzzle, no restraints at all. He's just in a room.

Well, a cell, technically - the steel door is locked, and there are no windows, no furniture but a bare cot in one corner and a lone toilet in another. But it doesn't really look like a cell. It looks like a room.

A very, very white room. White walls. White ceiling. White tiles (with white grout, even). The toilet is white, a roll of white toilet paper on the floor next to it. The only things that aren't white are the cot and the door and Leo himself.

They took his gear and his weapons, because of course they did. Since the door is steel, he already knows he's not breaking it down; he gives it a half-hearted slam anyway, just to say he tried. He should be able to just portal out, except he hasn't learned how to use his portals without his swords to channel his ninpo through, and there's nothing in here with him that he can use to make new ones.

So he's stuck. He's going to have to wait until someone opens that door for some reason. Or, of course, until his family swings by to pick him up. Though, if possible, he'd like to escape before that happens. The image in his mind, of sitting outside his cell and grinning at them as they arrive to rescue him, is too cool to pass up.

He's not sure how long it's been already. He knows that they knocked him out after ambushing him, and he doesn't know how long he was unconscious. The heavy molasses feel of his head and arms when he woke up suggests that he was drugged. It's wearing off now, though, which means he has a clear head to take in the all of nothing that's in the room with him.

He sits on the cot he woke up on and waits for something to happen.

There's no way for him to tell time, but he thinks it's an hour or so later when there's a sudden beep, and then the sound of a metal panel sliding up. It's a slot near the door that has just opened - inside the revealed alcove is a bottle of water.

He comes to it curiously, taking a long look around the bottle. The slot doesn't open straight through, and even if it did, it's not big enough for anything more than his arm or a foot to fit through. He thinks it must function like an airlock, or maybe they slid the bottle down from somewhere above - he feels around just in case, and finds that the slot is enclosed on all sides but his. Probably his airlock theory, then.

As soon as he removes the bottle, the panel slams shut again.

"You're really determined to keep me in here, huh?" he says to whatever hidden cameras are watching him. He carries the water bottle back to his cot, but doesn't open it, instead setting it down on the floor by the wall. The paranoid part of his brain, the one that doesn't miss a trick, is reminding him that drinking the water is probably a bad idea. Who knows what they might have put in it?

He sits on the cot for awhile longer. Still, nothing happens.

"I'm getting pretty bored in here," he says for the audience that must be somewhere. "Come on, you have a one of a kind turtle in here, and you don't even want to talk to me?"

Time passes, slow and quiet. Leo goes through periods where his anxiety spikes and he starts to wonder if he's been abandoned by whoever brought him here, before the boredom eventually numbs the anxiety back out. Another bottle of water is eventually delivered, and this one he keeps in his hands after retrieving it. It's completely unlabeled, not even a "Use by" date printed on the bottle itself, so it doesn't provide much mental stimulation. He spins the bottle to make little whirlpools inside, because it's something to do.

He's trying to make the fastest whirlpool he can when he hears a sudden click, different from the beep of the water bottle hole, and he looks up just in time to see a large section of the wall in front of him turn black, and then light up to show the room beyond his cell.

He jolts, setting the bottle aside. He knew they must be watching him, but somehow he didn't catch that part of the wall was a whole window.

His audience isn't very large - five people, unless there are others he can't see. Two wear lab coats, two wear fatigues... but the one who comes to stand directly in front of the window is wearing a black suit, with steel rimmed glasses. He leans forward, and speaks into a small microphone.

"Inmate 24365," says the suited man. "I am Agent Bishop, of the Earth Protection Force. My subordinates tell me that you can speak and understand the English language. Is this correct?"

"Qué?" Leo asks.

Bishop does not look amused. "Inmate 24365," he says, "you have two options. You can cooperate with me, answer my questions, and we will make your stay here more comfortable. Do not cooperate, and we will make your stay uncomfortable. Do you understand?"

Leo pretends to hem and haw over this. "How comfortable are we talkin'?"

"I'm sure you would like some dinner."

"You know, I'm not really hungry." He says it to be difficult, but it's actually true - the uncertainty of the situation has put his stomach in too many knots to want to eat anything. "Maybe if you offer me some comic books? Or a TV?

To Bishop's credit, his face doesn't so much as twitch. He keeps his steely eyes locked on Leo. "Answer our questions, and you will receive food. Do you understand?"

Leo stays noncommittal. "What are the questions?"

He's expecting Bishop to ask about his family. He's not expecting what comes next.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave?" he asks. "How are these gateways accessed? What kind of defensive capabilities do the yokai have?"

Leo keeps the surprise off his face. Bishop thinks he's a yokai.

This is, overall, a good development. Bishop might not know about Leo's family, then, or at least not know that they live on the surface. This means the Earth Protection Force likely isn't pursuing his brothers, which means they will be safe until they can help Leo get out of here.

He doesn't let the relief show through, either. Bishop doesn't know anything, and now Leo just has to ride out the next few hours until the calvary arrives.

"You know," he says, "I think I'm good with my current levels of comfort."

If Bishop is mad or frustrated or dismayed by this choice, he doesn't show it. His expression stays stony as he stares in at Leo, sizing him up.

"Very well," he says after a few more seconds. "I will see you tomorrow, then."

The window goes dark, and then turns stark white to match the walls. Leo wants to go over and tap at it, see if it feels different when he touches it, but knowing that Bishop is surely still there, watching him, keeps him rooted to the cot.

He goes back to making whirlpools with the bottle. If they aren't going to entertain him, he isn't going to entertain them, either.

-----

Another water bottle comes some time after his talk with Bishop. He finally opens this one and takes a cautious sip. Nothing tastes off or strange, so he drinks more. They don't want to feed him, but they're fine keeping him hydrated. No reason to stay thirsty, then.

He wishes the water calmed the anxiety still roiling in his stomach, but if anything it just makes him feel even more energized. He bounces his foot and surveys his room again, looking for any weak spots or access points. He can't see anything, though, other than the areas where he knows the water bottle hole and window are; even the vents that relentlessly blow cold air into the room are well hidden.

Knowing that there are people standing just outside his cell watching him, like some kind of zoo animal, puts him on edge. The window is so big that he's pretty sure the only blind spots are either directly underneath it or right by the door on the same wall. After debating it, he leaves his cot and sits on the floor underneath the window, surveying the room from a different angle now and still coming up empty. At least they're going to have a harder time staring at him.

His eyes catch on the toilet in the corner, directly across from the window. It's not in the blind spot, and realizing this makes his insides lurch uncomfortably - hopefully he has a chance to bust out before using it becomes necessary.

Though, he's not sure when that chance is going to come. If they have a slot to pass him water, they could use that to pass him food, too, so it's unlikely that anyone is going to open the door unless they need to take him out.

So maybe his fantasy of being outside when his brothers arrive isn't going to happen. Well, that's okay; he'll just be sure to make some other part of their escape totally rad. That will make up for the embarrassment of getting kidnapped a block from Run of the Mill.

(Seriously, some kind of ninja he is, to let a bunch of human soldiers sneak up on him.)

He drains the water bottle, then starts to roll it back and forth across the floor, like a cat batting at a toy. Leo's not sure what's worse right now: the worry or the boredom. There's nothing to look at and no one to talk to, just an empty room with him and his water bottles.

He's too keyed up to sleep, and the fluorescent lights are still on, anyway. He has no way of telling what time it is, so maybe it just isn't that late yet. And even sitting here, in the blind spot, the idea of closing his eyes while people are watching makes unease crawl up his spine. Staying awake is the easy choice. He'll sleep after he's out of here.

So he sits under the window and rolls his bottle back and forth, back and forth, with only the sound of plastic on tile to keep his thoughts company.

-----

The first three water bottles came pretty regularly, but now there is a very long stretch where nothing is delivered. Leo is starting to think maybe it really is night now. They don't turn off the lights in his cell, though, and he has no controls to do it himself. At least it helps with the whole "staying awake" thing.

Just in case they've decided to suspend his water privileges along with the food, he holds off drinking any more for now.

Speaking of food, his appetite has finally decided to return. His stomach starts to growl at him after several hours (he thinks) of sitting in the floor, an annoying emptiness in his stomach. Knowing there's no food accessible just makes the hunger sharper, but he puts it out of his mind the best he can with nothing else to focus on. He can eat once he's free.

Which should be soon. Seriously, his brothers have to be on their way by now, right?

He's pretty sure it's been the better part of a day, if not a whole day, since he was kidnapped. And, okay, he's willing to give them some leeway; it's understandable if they got a late start. He did storm out of the lair after his latest fight with Raph, and no one ever came to check on him when he did that. Understandably, he thinks, because who wants to be around Bad Mood Leo? Not even Leo wants to be around Bad Mood Leo!

But he'd already turned back into Good Mood Leo by the time he left Hueso's, so surely they knew it had been more than enough time. They would have noticed when he didn't come home. They would have realized something happened. They would be looking for him.

And if they're looking for him, they'll find him! Obviously.

His stomach growls again, and Leo leans his head back against the wall behind him. Maybe he shouldn't think of being at Hueso's. Now he just wants pizza. Pepperoni and mushroom, maybe, or Hawaiian. Mix it up a little with the barbeque chicken.

Another growl. He groans out loud.

He stays awake, twisting and crinkling the empty bottle in his hands, until another full one finally arrives.

-----

No chance to escape comes before using the toilet is necessary.

He tried to hold out, he really did, but he ended up drinking more water to stave off the growing hunger, and it's lowkey cold in here, which doesn't help. Still, the issue of the window sends an uneasy shiver up his spine, doubting that any people outside will feel the need to turn away and give him some privacy. Maybe he should have gone while he suspected it was nighttime.

(Maybe he shouldn't assume they ever aren't watching him.)

He stands up and walks over to the cot, giving it a light nudge with his foot. In a stroke of luck, it isn't bolted to the floor, and it's light enough that he can lift it. The black mesh it's made of is tightly woven, enough that not much is visible through it. It will have to do.

He picks it up and drags it over in front of the toilet, propping it up on its legs so it makes a small wall between himself and the window. It's hardly ideal, but the semblance of privacy makes him relax somewhat.

(He can't think about how there are surely cameras in the room watching him from all angles, making his attempt at a barrier moot. He knows better than anyone that sometimes pleasant lies are necessary.)

After he does his business, he leaves the cot propped where it is; it's not like he's sleeping on it. There's no sink for him to wash his hands, but he's never been the strictest about it, anyway (much to Donnie's disgust). He returns to his spot under the window, squeezing the water bottle to the rhythm of the first song that comes to mind.

Only two verses and a bridge later, the window above his head turns black, then goes clear. Thinking that Bishop might have been watching him just now makes a cold, slimy feeling roll down his spine. Creepy!

"Inmate 24365," comes Bishop's voice through the unseen speaker. "Stand."

Leo doesn't. He stays right where he is, under the window.

Bishop waits only a few seconds. Then Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

He gets up at that, turning and leaning his arm against the window. It strangely doesn't feel like glass, even though it must be. "It's already cold enough in here," he says. He wonders how they can hear him, when he doesn't see a microphone on his side.

"You were told your conditions would only be made comfortable after you answer our questions," Bishop informs him. "The same as before: how many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways-"

"How about you answer my questions first," Leo interjects. "You keep calling me "inmate," but I haven't been charged with anything. Pretty sure you can't detain me without cause."

"The EPF is authorized to detain non-human inmates for as long as deemed necessary for the security of the United States," says Bishop smoothly. "Probable cause doctrine does not apply in this case."

"That's gotta be unconstitutional."

"The constitution does not recognize the rights of yokai. You have no right to counsel, no right to a speedy trial, and no right to protections from cruel and unusual punishments." Bishop's stare is colder than the temperature in the room. "But I am not an unfair man. Answer my questions, and I will provide you with food and clothing."

Leo tosses a glance over his shoulder. "How about a private bathroom?"

Bishop's expression stays ever in place, unimpressed and stoic. "Food and clothing," he repeats.

Leo gives his head a shake. "Then nope," he says, popping the "p". "I plead the fifth."

"As I have already explained, the Bill of Rights does not apply to you."

"That's such crap." Leo bangs his fist on the window. "You can't just keep me here forever for no reason!"

"I do have reasons." Bishop leans closer to the window, his eyes narrowing. "Let's try a different question. What is your relation to Baron Draxum?"

The surprise is fast and sharp, but Leo just manages to keep it from showing on his face. "Who?" he asks innocently, even as the panic sets into his chest. If they know about Draxum, what else do they know?

"We know you are acquainted with him," says Bishop. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

Leo knows they aren't bluffing - why would they bring up that very specific name otherwise? There's no lie he can tell that won't reveal something.

So he doesn't say anything. Instead, he turns his back to the window and sits down, staring resolutely at the opposite wall.

Bishop clicks his tongue. "Very well," he says. "I am a patient man. I can wait." Then, more muffled, like he's facing away from the microphone, Leo hears him say, "Temperature down two degrees."

The window goes dark, then turns back to white. Leo doesn't move for a long time.

-----

The third water bottle arrives, so he guesses that's the end of day two.

He's shaking as he gets up to retrieve it, adding it to his growing water bottle hoard. He's gone through three and a half by now, but he's trying not to drink them too fast.

As promised, no food is delivered, and his stomach growls and rumbles in protest. The water helps, but only slightly. He needs to eat.

He also needs to sleep.

The panicked adrenaline spikes that have kept him awake this long are starting to die down, with more and more long stretches of exhaustion between them. The shaking is near constant, bringing with it the weird jittery feeling he gets when his insomnia gets particularly bad.

The window is still unnerving him. The idea of sleeping while they're watching him feels staggeringly unsafe.

But he doesn't think he can hold out now until his family gets here. Sure, they're probably getting close (they have to be getting close), but they're sure taking their sweet time. And he's just so tired.

After a long internal debate, he lays down on the cold tile floor. It's not at all comfortable, but somehow he doubts the cot would be any better. Besides, even if he moves the cot under the window, he thinks it would be easier to see him if he uses it. So on the floor it is.

He presses as close to the wall as he can, curling up into a ball for warmth. He wishes he had a blanket.

He wishes he was home.

He squeezes his eyes shut tight and forces back the sudden wave of overwhelming homesickness. There's no reason to feel this way. It's only been two days! What is he, a baby?

It's fine. It's all fine. They're definitely on his trail now. Raph is leading the team. Donnie is using some kind of invention to blah blah blah nerd stuff. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative journalism skills to find clues.

They're on their way. He just has to hold out a little longer. He can do this.

He sleeps, and in his dreams, something grabs him tight and drags him down and down and down where he can't escape.

-----

The same routine plays out over the next two days.

Leo gets two water bottles delivered, spaced, if he had to guess, about five hours apart. Bishop comes to visit him some time after the second bottle. Leo refuses to answer his questions. Bishop turns the temperature down and then leaves. A few hours later his last water bottle comes. Then nothing for the whole night.

They still don't turn off his lights, but exhaustion is starting to win over the brightness.

More than a few times, Leo tries to summon a portal on his own, without his swords. If his family is going to take their sweet time in coming, he might as well try to help them out. He tries to summon his ninpo (without glowing), tries to feel the tug inside of him that he always does when he teleports, tries to envision the place he wants to go and tunnel through space to get there.

Nothing. Always nothing.

(Donnie can make his constructs independent of his bo staff. Raph can send his projections away from his sai. Mikey's learning to use mystic powers without his nunchucks. So why does Leo need his katana? Why is he the only one this useless?)

It probably doesn't help that he's so damn hungry. It's a constant companion now, a low and hollow ache that chooses inconvenient times to turn into white hot stabs of urgency, into seizing cramps that steal his breath. The water only helps so much - it keeps him alive but doesn't satisfy, doesn't soothe. In some ways it just makes the feeling worse.

And he's always shaking, too, but he doesn't know if that's the hunger or the cold.

Maybe the cold wouldn't bother him so much if it were at least still. But the vents blow fresh air inside relentlessly, and no matter where he goes he can't seem to get out of the direct stream. The cold wind batters his tired body, and there's places his skin is starting to turn dry and flaky. His nose won't stop running, and he's allowed himself a small section of his one roll of toilet paper to blow it, already stiff and congealed and disgusting.

It's miserable.

And there's still nothing to do.

He stacks a pyramid out of his empty water bottles, knocks it down, then stacks it up again. He tries to come up with some new and exciting ways to demolish it, but it's only new and exciting for so long.

He spends a few hours of day three singing karaoke as obnoxiously as possible. He hopes everyone outside enjoys the performance.

He recounts every issue of Jupiter Jim he knows to himself, then the plot of every movie. Then he goes through Lou Jitsu films, then anything else he can think of. That eats up a good chunk of day four.

By the time he gets his first water bottle of day five, he's out of ideas to entertain himself. He's never been good at this. He doesn't know how introverts like Donnie can go multiple days without talking to someone.

But when Bishop comes back with his daily offer of conversation, Leo once again impolitely declines.

-----

Something new happens on night five.

It's been a long time since the last water bottle. Leo has been trying to sleep, but it's not coming easy; he's exhausted, but the floor is so cold and he's so sore from staying on it night after night. Not to mention, his nightmares have been getting worse, and he isn't eager to return to them.

Add on the hunger, and sleep is elusive.

Suddenly, there's the telltale shadow of the window above him turning dark - this time, though, it doesn't light up as much as normal. Confused and curious, Leo sits up and takes a peek.

The room beyond is dim, only the glow of a green EXIT sign and a small desk lamp lighting the space. But it's enough for Leo to see a man standing there, looking inside. It's not Bishop - in fact, he doesn't recognize this person at all. They're wearing fatigues, but it's not anyone he's seen in the room during Bishop's normal interrogations.

The man catches sight of Leo, and the grinning leer on his face makes Leo regret looking.

He beckons for Leo to stand up. Warily, Leo does, unable to help but keep his arms folded tight over his chest. Not for the first time, he wishes he had some clothes - his gear, at the very least. Anything to not feel quite so exposed.

The man reaches down and picks something up, holding it aloft for Leo's inspection. "Want a sandwich?" he asks into the microphone.

The sandwich looks like white bread and bologna. No cheese, no other toppings that Leo can spot. Maybe some mustard, if anything. Overall, the most boring possible sandwich he could have been offered.

Leo's mouth is watering.

He has to swallow hard before answering. He doesn't trust this. Even if his stomach is slamming up and down at the promise of food, food, food.

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

The man laughs. It's not a kind sound. "Sure you ain't," he says. "You spend every night curled up on the floor like the dumb animal you are. Can you even eat this?" He waves the sandwich for emphasis.

Leo doesn't answer. He takes a step back from the window, like that will put any kind of distance between them. Like that will save him.

The man watches him with a sleezy grin. He waves the sandwich again.

"You want this," he says.

Leo shakes his head.

"You really sure?"

Leo shudders. Stands tall. Nods.

The man watches him for a long, long moment. Leo fights the urge to hide.

Finally, with a shrug, the man says, "Suit yourself."

Then he starts eating the sandwich. Right where Leo can watch.

Leo's stomach growls, loud and angry in his ears, and he has to physically hold himself back from crumpling.

After several bites, the man suddenly reaches out and taps the window, indicating the cot stood up in front of the toilet.

"That," he says, giving another tap for emphasis, "doesn't do shit."

Leo wants to crawl out of his own skin.

The need to hide is suddenly too great. He rushes to the cot, grabbing it and dragging it back to the blind spot under the window. He sets it down on all four legs, so it's as close to the floor as possible.

Then he lies down on his belly and wriggles underneath. It's a tight squeeze, and the cot ends up pushed up by his shell, suspended in the air, but he doesn't care.

He curls up in his pleasant lie of privacy and bites his hand to keep from screaming himself hoarse.

After an eternity, the window above him turns white again. It doesn't matter. Leo knows he's still there. Still watching.

-----

"You look tired," Bishop greets him. Leo answers with a dead-eyed stare.

"I keep telling you, if you want your conditions to improve, all you have to do is answer my questions."

Leo says nothing. He just stares, arms wrapped tight around himself to try and keep his body heat in.

"How many gateways are there between New York City and the hidden yokai enclave? How are these gateways accessed?"

For a moment, Leo considers just... telling him.

His family doesn't live in the Hidden City. The yokai have never exactly greeted them with open arms. What does he care if these military guys go after them? At least then, maybe he can finally eat something.

That's not what a hero does, Leo! echoes Mind Raph disapprovingly. Innocent people will get hurt!

Right. He's a hero. And heroes don't give into the demands of shitty guys like Bishop.

Leo swallows hard. "No comment."

Bishop's face changes ever so slightly: his brow creases. Leo wonders if that's good or bad for him.

"You understand that Baron Draxum is a known threat, don't you?" he asks. "We are aware of his plans to commit mass murder on the human population. We also know that he has been dormant for some time, and we need information on what he is planning."

Leo thinks of Barry's ambitions to be recognized as the best lunchperson in all of America and can't help but laugh. It comes out cracked and wheezing.

Bishop's furrow gets deeper. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Little bit," says Leo.

Bishop has a chasm to rival Raph's now. Leo knows he shouldn't, but he grins. It's his one moment of triumph - only he can be this aggravating.

And then Bishop says, "Temperature down seven degrees," and that wipes the smile right off Leo's face.

-----

The plastic of the water bottles is soft and pliable and feels weirdly good under Leo's teeth.

He chews the top of the bottle, gnawing at it until it's completely flattened out, pockmarked with little tiny indents from his incisors. It's not eating - it won't fill his belly or ease the persistent hunger pains. But something about the motion is soothing. The place-bo effect.

Pla-ce-bo, corrects Donnie's voice in his mind, sounding testy.

Where are you? Leo thinks back.

There's no answer.

He's gnawed his way through four water bottles. There's eighteen in total now, two and a half still full of water. He thought about using one to wash up a bit, but decided against it in the end. He knows he stinks, but the last thing he wants right now is to be wet. Not when he's starting to see his breath.

Oh well. It's not like he has anywhere to be.

He turns his attentions to the lids next. These are harder and thus tougher to chew. Still, if Leo uses his molars, he can eventually crack the lip, and then bend the plastic in and in, chewing until he ends up with a flat disc.

It's just small enough that Leo could swallow it, if he wanted to.

He thinks he remembers watching some kind of wildlife documentary. Or maybe he didn't watch it himself, but Mikey told him about it. Or maybe April? He doesn't know. His thoughts swim in and out and get lost on the way.

Point is. Sea turtles in the wild die all the time because of plastic in the water. They cut open their stomachs and find trash inside.

Well, Leo is a turtle in captivity. Maybe that means he's immune. Maybe he could swallow this plastic lid, and then he'd finally feel full and the pain pain pain of his empty stomach would go away.

He does not swallow the plastic lid. But it's more tempting than he'd like to admit.

It's going to be okay. When his family gets him out of here, they'll have a big pizza to celebrate. Maybe he can even talk them into letting him have the last slice.

It has to be any moment now, right? It's been a week. They have to be closing in. Any moment now, the door will open, and there they'll be to take him home.

The air conditioning blows relentlessly against his skin. He sneezes, then rubs the snot on his arm. He's given up on the tissue paper.

It'll be over soon. It has to be. Just hang in there, Leon, just a little longer.

He picks up another bottle and starts chewing.

-----

He's playing a mindless little game with his flattened bottle lids the next time Bishop comes.

"I'm surprised you still have any energy at all," says Bishop, and Leo wants to punch him.

(Really, he wants to do more than that. But those kinds of thoughts always make him feel weird and bad, so he pushes them away.)

"You should have learned by now," he says, pushing to his feet and trying not to show how badly he's trembling, "you can't keep me down."

"This is all unnecessary," says Bishop. "I'll feed you as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo barks out a laugh. "Sure you will."

"I will," says Bishop. He turns and says over his shoulder, "Bring it here."

One of the men in fatigues steps forward and hands a tray with a covered plate over to Bishop. Bishop uncovers the tray and holds it where Leo can see.

Baked chicken, broccoli with cheese, mashed potatoes.

Leo's stomach twists and cramps so painfully he has to bend at the hips and clutch his midriff.

"This is yours, as soon as you answer my questions."

Leo pointedly keeps from looking at the food. He shakes his head. He can't. He can't.

"Such persistence." Bishop's voice is scolding now. "You understand that you are a known accomplice to a terrorist, don't you? But if you become a cooperating witness, you will be granted some leniency."

Leo barks a laugh, lifting his eyes to look at Bishop's face, and pointedly not the food. "What's the point?" he asks. "If I'm not... protected by the constitution, or whatever. Are you going to let me go?"

"No," says Bishop. "But as I have told you, your conditions will become more comfortable." He waves the tray of food.

Leo stares at him, before a manic smile splits his face.

"You... stupid bastard. I can't even answer your questions." He slams a shaking hand against his plastron. "I'm not even a yokai! Do you get that? I'm not a yokai!"

Bishop looks skeptical. "Obviously you are."

"I'm not!" Leo rages. "I'm a mutant! I'm from New York! I don't even live in the Hidden City!"

Bishop's eyes flash. "I see," he says, "so you do know of it."

Leo falters, his body going slack.

What an obvious, stupid mistake.

(Some face-man he is.)

It takes Leo a long moment to answer. Bishop stays right where he is, holding the food so tantalizingly close and yet still out of reach.

"...I don't know about the gateways," he says finally. "I don't know about their defensive capabilities. I don't know what Baron Draxum is planning."

"Your lies are obvious," says Bishop. "You really don't want this? It's your last chance today."

Leo stares at the food. His mouth is watering so hard it might start to drip. Would it really be so bad to answer? They don't live in the Hidden City. And Draxum dropped him off a roof.

Draxum is trying to change, says Mind Raph. You see what these guys are like. You can't turn the yokai over to them. They'll hurt them!

What about me? he asks. Is it okay if I get hurt?

You're a hero, Leo, says Mind Raph. You can deal with it for a little longer. It's just a room. Just a little cold. Just some hunger.

He's a hero. He can deal with it. He can. He can.

He'll make them proud. Show them they can trust him.

It takes everything he has, but he shakes his head.

Bishop tuts. Then he throws the entire plate in the trash.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. Then the window is gone.

Leo collapses on his cot and tries not to cry.

-----

After his third water bottle on day eight, one of the fluorescent lights over his head flickers and then dies out.

It's not surprising, since they keep them running twenty-four seven. The blessedly dimmed lighting is actually nice, for once. Leo thinks maybe he could get some sleep, if the gnawing hunger and the constant shivers don't keep him awake.

He's just closed his eyes and snuggled up under his cot when it occurs to him: they may come in to fix it. If keeping the lights on day and night is part of their plan to torture him, to keep him exhausted and anxious and on edge, then they have to.

Which means his chance is finally here.

He has to be careful about this. He has to be ready to move, but he can't let them know he's ready to move. He has to let them think he's too weak, too exhausted, to make an escape attempt.

(He can't let himself think that, though. He can't give up before he tries.)

So he stays under his cot, but subtly shifts it so it won't restrict his movement. He has to be ready to burst out as soon as he gets a chance. Get past whoever comes in, then get out the door. It's after the last water bottle, so it's nighttime. There will be fewer people. He can do this. He can do this.

Find his swords. Make a portal. Get out.

Just as he was thinking, after a long time has passed, there is a loud warning beep, different from the water bottle beep. An automated voice says from somewhere unseen, "Inmates clear the door. Security personnel entering. Stay still and you will not be harmed."

Then the door slides open, and someone comes in.

It's a man wearing fatigues. Leo thinks this is the one who "offered" him a sandwich the other day. He's holding some kind of gun with a long barrel. He does a sweep of the room with his eyes, coming to rest on Leo under his cot. He gives Leo the same leering grin, and waves the barrel of the gun in his direction.

"Now you behave, and we'll get along just fine," he says.

He steps to the side, and another man enters, this one wearing the kind of jumpsuit Leo sees janitors in on TV. He's carrying a stepladder in one hand and a long tube in the other. Is that what fluorescent lights look like? Leo didn't know.

The man walks to the middle of the room and sets up his stepladder. Then he walks up and pulls off the light casing. When he unhooks the old bulb, it causes the other bulb to flicker, just for a few moments.

Leo explodes out from under the cot, grabbing the man in fatigues by the legs and yanking as hard as he can. The man yelps in surprise, and Leo hears the sound of the gun going off in a random direction. The janitor shouts and drops the light bulb - the sound of shattering glass joins the cacophony.

Leo jumps to his feet and runs out the door they had been too stupid to close, sprinting toward the EXIT sign. He's exhausted and shaky but he's coursing with adrenaline, and he leans on it hard to keep him moving. Don't stop, don't stop, get out of here. He'll figure out what to do next once he's free.

Past the exit sign there's a large open room with desks and computer monitors. Most of them are off, but one lingering woman in a lab coat, seated at her desk, screams when she sees Leo dash through the middle of the office space.

"Security!" she screams into a device on her chest. "Inmate is escaping! Inmate is escaping!"

Leo doesn't have time to shut her up, he just keeps moving. He pushes through the next door and arrives in a hallway; he only has time to glance one way and then the other before scrambling to the left, hoping it was a good choice.

He rounds a corner and sees another green EXIT sign up ahead. It's not where he meant to go - he meant to find where they're keeping his swords first. But he hears shouting behind him and doesn't stop. Fine, so no portals - he'll figure out something else once he's away from here.

He throws himself forward into the exit door, which leads him into yet another hallway. Another long sprint, with shouting and slamming doors at his heels, and then finally, finally, a third EXIT sign, and he crashes outside.

Where there's snow on the ground, snow on the trees.

It steals his breath away. There shouldn't be snow. It's May.

Where is he?

He takes a breath of air so cold it seizes his lungs, then takes a step forward. He'll worry about that-

BANG!

A piercing pain in his shoulder nearly sends him toppling over. Leo shouts, grasping for the wound and feeling something sticking out of his skin. He grabs it and yanks, pulling it free.

It's a dart.

Damn it, he thinks, before his vision goes woozy, and he collapses into the snow.

-----

"Are you proud of your little escape attempt?" comes Bishop's voice.

Leo looks up from his cot. Bishop has to get so close to the window to see him that his nose is pressed flat against it. It should be hilarious, but Leo doesn't really have the energy to laugh. Or to do much of anything.

He's hungry. He's tired. He's cold. He's still sluggish from the drugs.

And they threw away all his water bottles. Fuckers.

Leo rolls over on the cot and covers his ears.

"What a childish response," says Bishop, and that's funny, too, because Leo literally is a child. Or a teenager, anyway. He doesn't feel like it will help him much to point that out, though.

"All you have to do is answer my questions, and all this will be fixed."

That's the funniest thing of all. The idea that he spills his guts and Bishop treats him to a five course meal to make up for all the pain up till now. Hilarious.

He says nothing.

Bishop sighs.

"You are likely still affected by the tranquilizing agent. I'll return tomorrow."

Before he leaves, he says, "Temperature down five degrees."

-----

The same man is back that night. He opens the window and looks down at Leo with the same leering smile. Leo can't even take satisfaction in the bandage on the side of his head.

"Neat little trick you had yesterday," he says. "Almost got me fired."

Leo wishes it had gotten him fired. But he clearly has no luck in this situation.

"You know, I respect the attempt. And you probably would have gotten farther with a little food in your belly." The man reaches down, then retrieves a sandwich, as mouth-wateringly unappetizing as the last time. "You sure you don't want this?"

And Leo knows he shouldn't trust this guy. Leo knows he should say no.

But he's just...

so...

hungry.

So he gets up. And he turns to the window. On shaking limbs that can barely hold him upright anymore. With a body that is laced with pain and aches and cramps.

And he nods.

The man's smile gets wider. "What do you say?" he asks, in the sing-song tone of a parent scolding a child.

It makes a sick nausea rise in Leo's throat. But he wants the sandwich.

"Please," he gasps out.

"Mmm... not good enough." The man waves the sandwich. "You want this? You beg for it."

Leo stares, eyes wide. But the sandwich... the sandwich...

He gets down on his knees. Feels a searing flush of humiliation. His stomach is rolling and gurgling and cramping with pain, a hollow, empty chasm inside him desperate to be filled.

He lowers his head.

"Please," he says. "I... I want the sandwich. I'm... begging you, please."

The man laughs, loud and long. When Leo finally finds it in him to raise his eyes, the sandwich is already half eaten.

"Hey, good job," says the man, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb. "That was real convincin'."

And then he takes another bite.

Just like that, Leo forgets about the pain, the aches, the cold, the hunger. All that's left is pure, white hot, screaming rage.

Leo lunges at the window and slams his fist into it so hard it cracks. Not enough to break the glass. Not enough to free him. But enough that the man startles and steps back.

And Leo starts to laugh. High and manic and unhinged even to his own ears.

"I'll kill you," he says, and his voice sounds almost joking, and yet- "I'll kill you. You're dead. You're dead, as soon as I get out of here, you're dead, I'll kill you, I'LL KILL YOU!"

The man has dropped the rest of his sandwich. He fumbles for his gun, left somewhere on a table to the side. For one satisfying moment, Leo sees a flash of genuine fear on the man's face.

"Shit," he says, his voice far away the further he gets from the microphone. "Pretty scary, frogboy."

Then he slams a button, and the window goes black, and Leo gets a glimpse of his own reflection.

His face is gaunt and drawn. His eyes are ringed by deep circles, so dark they look like bruises. His body is shaking like a leaf.

And his stripes...

His stripes are lit up like when he uses his ninpo, but they aren't their usual Neon Leon bright.

They're almost black.

Leo gasps and stumbles back just as the window goes white. The full body quakes he feels now aren't from the cold or the hunger or the exhaustion.

He turns and sinks onto the cot. Puts his face in his hands and tries to breathe. Tries to will his ninpo to stop rolling and snapping and to go back to normal.

This isn't what he wants. This isn't him.

This place is breaking him. He's letting it break him.

He pulls his legs up onto the cot and buries his face in his knees. Wraps his arms around them and rocks gently, the way Donnie used to do when things got overwhelming. Maybe he understands that better, now.

This isn't him. He's Leonardo, Neon Leon, the face-man, the jokester! The one who's always ready with a quip and a laugh. The one who can do anything!

Except portal out of his room. Except escape from this building. Except resist begging for a sandwich like he's a dog.

Leo's breath hitches, and for once he doesn't stop himself. He knows the guy outside is probably watching. He knows there are cameras recording this. He hates giving them the satisfaction.

But he's tired, and hungry, and he...

He wants to go home.

He cries, silently, until he's completely rung out.

-----

Maybe they aren't coming.

That's the thought that pops into his head, just a bit after the first water bottle of the day.

He knew they would have gotten a late start, because he stormed out. And he knew it would take them awhile to figure out who took him - he hadn't heard of the EPF before, so why would they? And he knew it would take them time to figure out where he had been taken, which must have been pretty far out if it's snowing outside. But the EPF got him here within a night, he's pretty sure, so unless they have a super fast jet, he must still be on the continent somewhere.

So... so surely they must have figured it out by now, right? Raph is leading the team. Donnie is doing science things. Mikey is razzing his tazz. April is using her investigative skills.

Unless they aren't coming.

Maybe... maybe it's true. Why would they want him back, after all? Leo took Raph's leader position, and since then all he'd managed to do was piss Raph off. Mikey and Donnie hadn't been happy about it, either, and he'd noticed that they'd been avoiding him more and more. April claimed she wasn't taking sides, but she always seemed to be on Raph's anyway. And Dad... well, he was probably disappointed that he made Leo leader only for him to do nothing and then get himself kidnapped.

He doesn't bring anything to the team. He doesn't bring anything to the family. And no one likes his jokes.

So. Maybe they just... aren't looking. Maybe they aren't going to come.

Maybe he's held out this long for no reason. Maybe he's been cold and starving for no reason at all.

Maybe it's time to give up.

---

Don't give up, says a new voice in his head.

You are not alone.

-----

He has no energy left to stand when Bishop comes. The man looks down at him, lips pressed into a thin line.

"You don't look well," he observes.

No shit, Leo wants to say.

"This has gone on long enough. Answer my questions, and we will provide you with food, clothing, and medical care."

The list is getting longer. Leo's fuzzy eyes stare up at Bishop. Medical care. Does he need that?

"You already know what I want to know." Bishop has a furrow between his eyebrows now. "Will you talk to me?"

He could. He could do it. He could finally have some relief from all the pain. All the hunger. All the cold.

But they might hurt the yokai in the Hidden City.

They might hurt Draxum.

They might hurt his family.

And maybe, if nothing else... if Leo could just keep his mouth shut, just this once...

Maybe that would finally make Raph, Dad, and everyone proud of him.

Maybe they'd finally trust him.

Maybe, at least, he can have that much.

Leo shakes his head.

Bishop scowls.

"Temperature down ten degrees."

-----

Leo isn't shivering anymore. That's probably a bad sign.

He can still see his breath, each time he exhales. It rises like smoke, before disappearing into the air.

He doesn't have any energy left, not even to chew on his new water bottles. He hasn't even collected the last two, and they sit crowded together in the slot, untouched.

He kind of wishes they had just dissected him from the beginning. It would have been faster. Freezing to death, he's decided, is a real zero out of ten. Starving to death isn't any better. No stars.

Even though the damn lights are still on, he feels extremely sleepy. It's probably the cold. He wonders what will happen if he brumates. He's never done it before, not like his little cousins, and he has no idea if it's even safe.

Probably not, given he has no calorie reserves left. All it means is he won't be drinking water, either.

But he's so sleepy.

It's going to be time soon for Bishop to come back. Leo doesn't know what the point is anymore. Maybe he'll just sleep through it. Yeah, that would really make him mad. And making Bishop mad is all he has at this point.

And he'll get to sleep. It's a win-win.

So thinking, Leo rolls himself over onto his belly. Then, one by one, he pulls his limbs into his shell.

He doesn't do this much anymore, not since he started growing. His body just doesn't seem to fit his shell like it should - a side effect of the mutation, probably. It's not really comfortable to be inside for long.

But Leo is sleepy. And his shell feels like the best place to be.

So he pulls in his legs, then his arms, and then, finally, his head.

It's not any warmer in here. But at least it's dark.

At least he's not shivering.

Leo sighs, content, and closes his eyes, and drifts to sleep.

-----

(Outside his cell, there's a bang, and shouting, and a gunshot.

The sound is muffled, and Leo sleeps on.)

-----

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Part A |

#rottmnt #rise leo #agent bishop #cw: psychological torture #dandy fanfiction #I want it to be clear that any time Leo is hearing “Mind Raph”#that's just his own inner voice manifesting #please don't be mad at Raph himself lol

737 notes · View notes

writteninlunarlight-years · 5 months ago

Note

I havent been able to sleep; so in celebration, can you do headcannons for how Alastor and Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel would react to you falling asleep on their shoulder? Thank you lovely <3

He was working on his next broadcast report with your help, of course. However, the work had prolonged into the late hours of the night.

You were already in PJs and had been yawning repeatedly during the conversation.

He had asked you to go to bed at least five times in the last hour.

He knew you were too stubborn, though, to listen, and instead, he opted to just give you an excellent old-fashioned I told you so.

What he wasn't expecting, though, was for your head to fall right on his shoulder

He was overwhelmed someone was touching him without his explicit permission; however, as he rationalized the situation, he seemed to calm down.

You were so warm, and you weighed barely anything against his shoulder. Just cause he looks like a twig doesn't mean he can't handle any weight.

Alastor wouldn't lie. Your company was enjoyable to an extent; he liked having someone to bounce horrific ideas to without being judged too severely.

However, he hadn't realized how comfortable he had been with you. Enough so that his first reaction wasn't to behead you for this action.

As he contemplated internally about this newfound relationship brewing, you kept dozing.

Once he concluded he didn't mind this as much as he thought he should have, he returned to work.

As Alastor grew tired, though, he had a new problem he didn't expect.

He didn't want to risk waking you in his attempt to escape to the confines of his own room.

He was used to pulling all nighters for the radio show, I mean come on overlords never stop. So he was willing to sacrifice today if it meant letting you get the sleep you needed.

The only problem was that about an hour later, Alastor was deep in sleep, with his head leaning against yours.

He would never admit it, but the weight of your head on him was comforting and felt nice.

Alastor hated being vulnerable like this, but tonight, he could allow it because who knows when he will allow you to sit so closely again?

Per Charlie's request, everyone was downstairs in their PJs with a pillow and blanket, ready to watch a movie marathon.

She believed a big group sleepover/movie night would be perfect for everyone to bond.

Each inhabitant had chosen a movie to go on her magical wheel of choices.

Lucifer noticed how tired you were as you progressed through the shows.

You were still new to hell, and the ups and downs of a new sleep cycle weren't set yet.

He asked you three times if you wanted to head to bed and sleep, and Charlie wouldn't mind, but you declined.

As the last movie ended and Charlie put in one more, he felt a weight on his shoulder.

Looking over, he found you utterly dead to the hells around you.

He wouldn't lie. It was adorable, and he tried hard not to fangirl at the action.

He had always wanted something like this to happen. It was just the picture-perfect movie scene.

He also couldn't lie; he was pretty attached to you, being the one Charlie tasked with showing you around when you arrived.

He felt this would solidify a new chapter of whatever your relationship was.

If you felt safe enough to sleep on The King of Hell, then he was sure he had made progress in your life as much as you had in his.

Lucifer thought that he would be awake for hours with the excitement coursing through him.

He liked the weight of your head on him and how it made him feel grounded in the moment.

However, as the last movie ended and Charlie turned on the lights to let everyone go to bed, she saw her father with his head atop yours.

After forty million awwws from Charlie and pictures taken, she left you two to sleep.

388 notes · View notes

staytheword · 2 years ago

Text

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips.

You can’t do this anymore.

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try.

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty.

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?”

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this.

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him.

Almost.

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones.

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies.

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours.

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.”

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.”

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.”

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt.

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly.

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly.

“Shit, what time is it?”

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?”

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.”

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot.

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen.

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island.

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television.

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl.

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.”

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.”

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh.

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours?

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time.

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands.

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance.

“Thanks.”

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that.

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back.

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.”

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed.

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.”

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…”

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.”

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch.

“Sit down, please.”

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest.

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?”

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing.

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.”

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.”

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues.

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.”

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.”

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night.

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?”

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his.

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.”

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm.

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.”

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head.

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you.

“You want to join?”

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it.

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie.

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other.

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand.

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.”

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.”

“Sounds good.”

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s.

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head.

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs.

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.”

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…”

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?”

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously.

You could swear he is blushing.

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.”

“I like the idea,” you smile.

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh.

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.”

Jisung arches an eyebrow.

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.”

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.”

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.”

“She was a bitch,” you point out.

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.”

“That’s not exactly true.”

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?”

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.”

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.”

“How can you not be a massage person?!”

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause.

“Ji, this isn’t working.”

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…”

“We need something more drastic.”

He gives you a little nod, and you squint.

“What was the idea you had earlier?”

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?”

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.”

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.”

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.”

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Jisung breathes deeply.

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…”

“Yes?” you encourage him.

“I jerk off.”

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense.

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -”

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass.

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?”

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.”

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment.

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously.

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even.

“I mean, if you want some time alone…”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?”

You nod. “Yeah, why?”

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.”

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly.

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice.

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.”

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking.

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?”

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes.

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds.

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now.

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?”

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.”

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…”

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead.

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Just say it,” he sighs.

“I heard you that time.”

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking.

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -”

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…”

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.”

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?”

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.”

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.”

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.”

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage.

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully.

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness.

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard.

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes.

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen.

“What?”

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.”

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…”

“Ugh, tell me about it.”

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably.

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh.

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says.

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.”

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy.

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.”

“O-okay.”

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju.

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other.

Oh, God.

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God.

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another.

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet.

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes.

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply.

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment.

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.”

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction.

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing.

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure.

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.”

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.”

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.”

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed.

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god!

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move.

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears.

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.”

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.”

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.”

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?”

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?”

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.”

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.” He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…”

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.”

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…”

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself.

“H-here.”

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair.

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric.

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music.

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly.

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…”

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm.

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!”

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.”

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips.

“Y-you sure?”

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls.

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…”

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently.

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -”

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully.

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray.

This is a sight you’ll never forget.

A taste you’ll never forget.

You feel something tighten in your chest.

You’ve fallen so hard for him.

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you.

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy.

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you.

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth.

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.”

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh.

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin.

“Jisung…”

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him.

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning.

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…”

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says.

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?”

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt.

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear.

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away.

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained.

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him.

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…”

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy.

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Y/N, wait -”

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile.

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you.

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to.

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear.

“Y/N, please, listen -”

You don’t think. You just kiss him.

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock.

“What are you -”

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.”

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again.

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.”

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth.

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.”

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.”

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again.

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.”

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.

“Fuck, those tits…”

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…”

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours.

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have.

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you.

“Can I - I mean - You sure?”

“Yes,” you nod.

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out.

“Are you okay?”

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.”

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.”

You smile, pulling him into a kiss.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear.

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together.

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure.

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…”

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…”

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic.

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…”

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.”

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws.

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.”

“Jisung.”

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes.

“Will you kiss me?”

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile.

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him.

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.”

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.”

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.”

“Me too, Ji. Me too.”

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

5K notes · View notes

goxjo · 3 months ago

Text

Sakusa doesn't want to keep count but in the 1 and a half hours you’d been in his room watching a movie, you laughed 4 times through your nose and looked at him to check if he was laughing too. He’s not.

Instead, he purses his lips in amusement, stifling his laughter, mentally chuckling at how you tend to furrow your brows and sink into your body whenever you get flustered. He also knows this to be a result of you realizing that he’d been too busy staring at you to even pay attention to the movie.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Sakusa shakes his head. “Nothing, keep watching."

The film ends and silence ensues. As per usual, he never feels the need to fill the silence, not in the slightest. But sometimes he wonders if he should. Sometimes he wonders if you at least wanted noise to fill these quiet gaps in your relationship.

Though you spend most of your days like this - basking in his warmth within the peaceful confines of his room, lolling in the quiet, your head laid on his lap as you fiddle through your phone.

He never once heard you complain about it even though he occasionally felt like he’s probably the most boring person you’d ever met. Do you ever get tired of this? Of him?

He’s deathly afraid of the answer even though it’s probably not as bad as he thinks.

In his musing, he began to stroke your hair. Your questioning eyes dart to his preoccupied ones.

“Omi? ‘s there something wrong?” You ask, snapping him out of his daze.

He could very well just tell you how pretty you look on his lap and save your little talk for later. It’s the truth, after all. But even so, there isn’t really any merit in delaying it. The worst it could do is rattle your peaceful cage and you’d go bolting through the door as fast as you can, never speaking another word to him. No big deal. Though he knows it’s ridiculous.

“Are you okay with this?” he breathes out, running the back of his fingers along your temple down to your cheek.

“With what?” your eyes glinting with curiosity as you entangle your fingers with his.

“This.” He gestures to the room with his free hand. “It’s always been like this with me, hasn’t it? It doesn’t get any more boring than this.”

He waits for you to snap, hit him with your worst, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re looking back at him as if he’s the silliest guy in the world.

“Yes, Omi. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

He only needed to hear it from you the one time. That’s how much he trusted you.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen in shock. He didn’t mean to catch you off guard like that, but the moment felt right. And to be frank, he doesn’t need an answer from you but one would be ideal—

“I love you, too.”

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fluff #sakusa fluff #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq x reader #!love letters #!haikyuu #haikyuu sakusa #hq sakusa #!sakusa #sighhhh I love this guy #yeah this is reposted uwu

380 notes · View notes

hyuckiefluff · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty Boy pt.2

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers word count: 4.2k content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :( a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.

part 1

As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.

"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."

It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.

Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.

The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.

As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.

You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.

"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."

A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.

As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.

But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.

"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.

Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.

Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.

"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.

He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.

"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.

"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.

"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.

He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.

"How about you fuck me…raw?"

You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.

"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"

He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.

All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.

You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.

Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.

You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.

"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.

You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.

It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.

Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.

His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.

He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.

"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."

“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.

"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."

He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.

You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.

"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.

He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.

The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.

"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.

And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.

“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.

He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?

Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.

At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.

The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.

Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.

"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.

So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.

"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.

"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.

He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.

You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.

What the fuck are we now?

He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.

"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.

"Do what?" you whispered back.

"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.

"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.

“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.

You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.

"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.

"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).

You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.

"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.

feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.

#nct x reader #jaemin moodboard #jaemin imagine #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct smut #nct dream smut

2K notes · View notes

tootiecakes234 · 1 year ago

Text

NSFW: Smutty Scenario

Minors Do No Interact

(Reupload)

Men that understand your need to be praised and degraded!!💕💕🤤 the ones that get it AND do it oh so well.

You guys are on the couch and things are getting hot and heavy. The movie in the background had been completely forgotten about. He leans down and goes straight for the sweet spot on your neck that has you panting and rubbing your legs together. Lifting his lips just enough to whisper in your ear “ you’re so cute when get needy for me like this. I’m gonna have so much fun fucking the sense out of you”.

Next thing you know, he’s got you naked with your nipple in his mouth. You’re moaning out loud at this point and rubbing your bare pussy against his sweats. “You’re such a nasty little slut. Making a mess on my pants. Does it feel good when I suck on these tight little nipples sweet girl?”

Ends up sliding his big hands between the two and you rubbing at your clit. “Sensitive thing, starts creaming as soon as your pussy gets any type of attention.” Slides 2 thick fingers into you without any warning causing you to gasp. “This sloppy pussy can take it. Now ride my fingers til you come like a good girl”.

And of course you do, who the hell are you if not his good little girl. Makes you clean them off when you’re done.

You turn your focus on him. Rubbing him through his pants before freeing it from the confines of his sweats. You eventually end up on your knees with his cock down your throat. He’s using your face like a it’s a fucking toy. Pulling it out of your mouth just to slap it against your face. “Look at you, you’re a goddamn mess. Love it when you let me use you like this.”

“Face down ass up for me” fucks you doggy style until you forget how to form words other than his name and please. “Ha have I fucked the speech out of you baby? Hm? Have a fucked you dumb on my cock again”

You’re at your wits end and you’re sure you can’t take anymore. You feel like you’re about to collapse when he pulls you by your hair with your back against his chest. He reaches around playing with your already overstimulated clit and says “ one more…. A nasty little cock slut like you can give me one more can’t you? Please baby…”

That’s all it takes before you’re not only cumming but squirting all over his dick and he’s cumming inside you while moaning your name into your ear.

Lets you calm down after, placing soft kisses wherever his lips can reach. Tells you how good you did, how much he loves you before getting a towel to clean you both up.

Nanami, Bakugo, Levi, aizawa, daichi, toji, Erwin, Tsukishima, Sero, tengen…. Any of your faves

#imagine #haikyu smut #aot smut #jjk smut #nanami smut #nanami kento #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #levi ackerman #aizawa smut #sawamura daichi #toji smut #erwin smith #tsukishima kei #sero hanta #tengen uzui

945 notes · View notes

jjongslutz · 1 year ago

Text

이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 911! I'VE BEEN A BAD GIRL [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH there's nothing hotter than a man in a cop uniform. there's nothing more sexually frustrating than when he's never at home in said cop uniform

WARNINGS ⨯ fem!reader, cop kink (?), Men In Uniforms, hard dom!heeseung x brat!reader, spanking (flogger & hand), orgasm denial, handcuffs, use of pet names & name calling (bunny, doll, baby, slut, whore), sex toys (dildo, vibrator)

WORD COUNT ⨯ 2.9k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . this stems from that one trend where ppl stand next to cops to that one lana del rey song lolz 🙏

"911, what's your emergency?"

You smirk as you hear the familiar voice spill through the phone.

"Oh, officer, I'm in big trouble." Your hand traces the black lace barely covering your skin rhythmically with your words.

"Alright, can you explain your situation to me?"

You put on your best impression of an innocent doll from a 60s movie. “Oh, officer…” You let your voice trail off, wrapping your hair around your finger. “I’ve been a bad girl.”

The man on the other end of the line hesitates. He recognizes your voice. You smirk. “Y/N.” His voice is stronger than before, but has no telling emotion. You sit quietly. “

“I miss you so much,” you whine. Simultaneously, your fingers find their way past your black lingerie, fingering lightly at your clit. You moan into the line.

Heeseung tuts. You hear shuffling from the other side before he comes back to the phone. “Don’t fucking touch yourself until I get home.” Then, more quietly, but with a hint of mischief. “Don’t be a dumb slut and get off while I’m not there. Or I’ll make you regret it.”

Heat flushes throughout your body, spreading to your fingertips simply resting against your cunt. You retract them in fear and excitement of what he’s planning to do with you.

After a few moments, you hum lamely, and the line clicks shut.

Now, all there is to do is wait.

You get to the bedroom and it proves to be more difficult than you thought as heat rushes to your core. Heeseung’s scent lingers in the air from before he left, the sheets feeling the ghost of his warmth, even though you know that’s just in your mind.

Lying down against the mattress, you spread your arms to feel the soft material tickle your skin. You turn to touch your cheek against the blanket, but your eye catches onto a silver glint coming from the closet.

Your eyes widen when you creep up to it, realizing Heeseung went shopping without your knowing.

A bright pink dildo stands tauntingly still in its box. It doesn't take much for you to shut down any internal debates before ripping it out of its confinement and getting yourself settled with it on the bed again.

You lather a generous amount of lube on the toy, stopping yourself from drooling at the size of it. With one hand, you force your legs apart while the other guides the dildo to your needy hole.

The stretch feels so good that you let yourself soak in it for a moment, feeling how deeply it goes into you. It touches everywhere you need it most and more, you're certain you could cum just from this. But you won't limit yourself.

You start pushing it in and out, soon enough developing a rhythm that you meet with your rolling hips.

It feels so good you don't even hear the click of the door unlocking, nor the footsteps which follow it all the way to the bedroom.

“Oh, bunny,” Heeseung says with a teasingly disappointed tone. “You couldn’t wait until I got home?”

His voice makes you instinctively close your legs, a poor attempt at hiding what you're doing despite a part in you deep down wishing for him to see it all. In the movement, the dildo slips from your hands and lands somewhere on the mattress where Heeseung can clearly see it. His eyes darken.

“Found your present early, didn't you, bunny?” You whimper at his taunts, but force yourself to nod confidently.

You whine. “You’re always away, sir…” Putting on your best doe eyes, you try to ignore the effect Heeseung’s hard gaze has on your core, making your insides twitch. “Don’t you want me to feel good when you're gone?”

Suddenly, Heeseung crawls up to you onto the bed and sinks two fingers into your wet hole. You gasp at the intrusion. “This—” He emphasizes it by curling his fingers. “—belongs to me. I make you feel good. Not some stupid toy.”

Nodding weakly, you resist the urge to moan dejectedly as he slips his hand out.

“Fucking slut,” he mutters. “Couldn't even wait until I get changed?”

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

Heeseung notices it, too. His lips curl into a menacing smirk, his eyes gleaming with passion at the idea that sparks in his mind. “Oh… does my pretty little slut like my uniform?”

You nod, but he doesn't take it.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, sir.”

His hand reaches into his belt compartment. “Maybe I should put it to good use then. Wouldn't you like that bunny?” He pulls out a silver pair of handcuffs, with a click! they open invitingly. “Put your hands behind your back, whore.”

As much as your pussy begs for you to listen to him, make this all go faster, you stop yourself. You want to have some fun. “No.”

Heeseung raises a brow. “No?”

“No.” You shake your head to stand your ground. Then, more teasingly, “No, sir.”

Your boyfriend lets out a venomous laugh, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he bites it. His eyes make you fear he’s going to pounce on you, but excite you in hopes that he actually will.

“I said,” he clarifies, stepping onto the bed again, hovering over your body. “Put your hands—” He grabs both wrists into one hand and pulls them up and over your head. “—behind your back.” You squeal as he uses his grip as leverage to toss you over, rolling you onto your stomach. Heeseung pulls your arms down and clicks the handcuffs shut around them. “You naughty little slut.”

Your face is buried in the mattress, and he makes sure of it by the way he shoves it down to make you focus on the feeling of his hand tracing your waistline. “I’m sorry, sir,” you attempt.

He tuts. “You’ll show me how fucking sorry you are.”

You know what that’s code for. The way he fumbles around in the bedside drawer is just further confirmation. Your ears perk up at the sound of him pulling out the flogger.

He runs the toy through his fingers, then traces your back with it. You flinch when he suddenly puts two fingers under the hand of your lace bra and snaps it against your skin. “You have the right to remain silent.” Heeseung leans to your ear, whispering in a breathy tone which tickles your skin. He pulls at your head to lift your face to his. “I’m going to spank you ten times, okay? And you aren't going to make a single noise. Every time you do, that’s another two. Got it?”

The flogger dances over your lace-panties and the skin exposed below it, a shiver running down your spine at the contact. You conceal a yelp when the first slap comes crashing.

“That’s one,” Heeseung announces.

Slap! “Two.”

“Three—” And another. “Four.”

You can already feel your skin reddening from where the toy hit you. It hurts so good. You wish more than anything you could tell him, but you bite your lip to keep from it.

That proves to not be enough when he suddenly switches from the soft but stinging flogger to direct and harsh contact from his hand.

“Ah—” The sound escapes before you can realize it's coming out. You try to cover your mouth, only to remember your hands are tied behind your back, so it’s nothing but a pathetic attempt.

Heeseung squeezes the skin he just slap, pinching at it. “Stupid slut can’t stay quiet?” He slaps once, then twice, quickly. It stings and weak breathes get caught in your throat. Thankfully, he doesn't focus on those. “Six. Seven,” he calls them. “Five more ‘cause you’re a whore who can't keep her mouth shut like I asked her to.”

You’re able to resist making any more after that, biting down so hard on your lip you’re surprised it's still intact. Not that you think you or Heeseung would mind.

“Twelve.” Heeseung rubs circles on the reddened skin, your body twitching sensitively underneath his touch. After setting aside the flogger, he crawls back up your body to lean and whisper against your ear. His thumb wipes across your cheek and you only realize then that you started crying. “Pretty.”

A shiver runs down your spine as Heeseung’s warm hands make their way to your thighs, spreading them apart for full access. You flush at the feeling of your hole desperately clenching on nothing.

Heeseung laughs. “Does my whore miss my cock?” he teases. “Show me how much you want my cock stuffing you full, bunny.”

“Please, sir!” You put on the niceties in hopes of helping your case. “I need it so bad, sir.”

It doesn't do much.

Instead of hearing the sweet sound of him unzipping his pants, Heeseung shuffles with your panties and pulls them off. Then, he reaches to your other side and grabs the dildo you discarded earlier.

He circles the you around your sopping hole to lather it up, before pushing it in without warning. Without time to adjust, either, Heeseung starts pulling it in and out of your pussy in a rhythmic pattern.

You can barely let out breaths at his speed, forced to moan with every thrust of the toy. It touches everywhere it did before, but infinitely better now that Heeseung’s controlling it. You want to stay like this forever and be right over the edge of coming undone under his touch.

The warmth you’re so familiar with and aching for burns from inside you and Heeseung can clearly sense it. He smirks behind you, placing his hand on the small of your back.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper between breaths.

He’s not satisfied. “What was that?”

“Yes, sir!” you say louder, breaking out into a moan as he pushes the dildo deeper, hitting your g-spot head on. “Please sir, please sir!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he replies. You prepare to ride your high, but all of the pleasure is ripped away from you when Heeseung pulls the toy completely out of you, placing it tauntingly on the nightstand by your left.

You start to whine, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t be a brat, I’m giving you what you want.” He tuts as he starts to undo your handcuffs. A wave of relief washes over you as you can finally relax your wrists. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Y/N, you’re lucky I’m not locking you up all night.”

In a moment, he flips you over and straddles your hips to redo the handcuffs once more. You’ve grown accustomed to the burn of the silver against your arms that you can't do more than let out a shallow breath as he pulls it through the headboard and safely attaches your arms. Slowly, wearing an intense gaze, Heeseung stands up and admires his work.

Finally, you get a proper look at him.

There’s nothing particular about his uniform, but he makes it look so good you want to rip it right off of him. His belt tightens around his waist just right, holding all kinds of tools and weapons he might need on the job. You bite your lip at the buttons undone at the base of his collar, exposing just enough skin to not leave much to the imagination. His badge shines against the light reflecting from the mirror, catching your eye in the light of it.

Heeseung smirks. “How do you want it, bunny?”

You forget to answer. The way his muscles stretch the fabric around his biceps has you breathing deeply, wishing you could bite down on them, or even have them around your neck.

“Bunny,” Heeseung says more firmly. “I asked you a question.”

Now, you’re playing into the way his deeper, stricter voice makes you feel. The power he holds over you makes your insides twist. You squirm under his hardened gaze.

“I’m sor—” Your eyes slip down his body subconsciously. His bulge is obvious through his tight pants.

“Oh?” Heeseung raises a brow teasingly and bends to meet your lowered eyes. When your gazes meet again, his lips curl upward. “You don’t want the toy anymore? You seemed pretty desperate, using it like the whore you are before I gifted it. Do you think you deserve my cock? Is that what you want, slut?”

You nod, dazed. “Yes…” He eyes you. “Sir."

He doesn't reach down to unzip his pants like you want. He makes his way across the room to the closet and pulls out another box you haven't seen before. Raising a brow, he shakes it for your focus.

“Another gift?” you test.

He hums cryptically, playing around with the tap and pulling out an unfamiliar device. “Comes pre-charged,” he says contently. He presses a button and the toy starts to buzz in his hand.

A vibrator. Oh no.

He puts it on the lowest setting before nudging it between your legs. “Spread your legs a little before I have to force them apart.”

Your legs slowly move away, but not fast enough for him. Heeseung harshly grabs onto your thigh and spreads them open. You’re embarrassed at the sight of your desperate cunt, most likely red in desire.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to give it a gentle kiss before placing the torture device—vibrator—right onto your clit.

Thankfully, he gets up to unzip his pants next. He pulls them down just enough to let his hardened cock spring free. It’s leaking at the tip, a glistening glazed white that you want to wrap your mouth around and lap up with your tongue. You let out a breath, trying to hold yourself together and rip away from the headboard you're handcuffed to.

Heeseung strokes it twice or thrice, but doesn't waste time in crawling toward you and aligning it with your mouth. He taunts you, holding it just out of reach for you to wrap your lips around it, but close enough to paint your mouth with his pre-cum. You lap your tongue over his leak desperately.

He laughs above you before shoving it in without warning. “Fuck,” he groans, going for a harsh thrust. “So tight. You take me so well.”

Impatience laces his thrusts, sporadically hitting the back of your throat. You try to steady yourself, head spinning from the vibrations on your cunt, twisting your wrists to grip onto the headboard, your fingers brushing against Heeseung’s which use the bed frame for the same reason.

He huffs from above. “Were you made for this? Is that why you take me so good? Whore, fuck, so good.”

Rolling back your eyes, you mewl at his words, choking back on his cock, but Heeseung doesn't mind. His hand comes down from the headboard to grip the back of your head, forcing it forward to take you deeper.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last—” He groans and curses under his breath, speeding up his movements with no remorse. “You wanna taste my cum? Feel it down your throat? Is that what a slut like you wants?”

Inside. Inside. Come inside me! Your mind screams. You moan against his cock and furrow your brows at the feeling of it hitting your throat.

The vibrations send Heeseung over the edge, making him double over the headboard and let out a melodic groan as his seed spills out of your mouth. Your head follows his movements as he slips his dick out of your mouth, only stopping at the resistance from your hands still tied to the bed frame. You settle with focusing on his movements.

With one hand, Heeseung strokes his cock over your torso, milking himself dry, producing the most beautiful sounds. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, but you force yourself to keep them open.

His other hand snakes down to the vibrator still comfortably nestled on your clit at an easy-to-take setting. He pumps it up two or three, you’re not sure, but it's enough to have your legs shaking and send you over the edge in seconds.

You moan out his name, your pussy soaking itself in your juices.

“Good girl,” Heeseung says, leaning in to give you a soft kiss on your forehead and reach up to undo the handcuffs. He places them safely on the side table and your wrists are finally able to breathe.

Still catching your actual breath, through dazed eyes, you take another look at Heeseung as he pulls up and redoes his pants. He lays down next to you, comfortably landing in your hold.

“You don't wear all of that when you’re just taking calls, do you?”

He looks away bashfully, as if a completely different person from the one pounding into you a few minutes ago. “No…” he says. “I thought you might like it—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

When you separate, you giggle, “I really like it.” Your hand glides down to his belt and hooks onto the buckle. “I really like it.”

He wiggles away from your hold. “Don’t start again, you won't be able to walk.”

“Maybe that's what I want.” Then, for extra measure, you add, “Sir.”

All he does is roll his eyes and playfully scoff at you as he gets up again. “Consider yourself lucky,” he says, retreating to the bathroom for a wet cloth to clean you up.

Or, to get the other toys you have stored in there.

You can only hope for the best.

 JJONGSLUTZ 2023

828 notes · View notes

fvsm4x · 1 year ago

Text

#SLEEPOVER [Gojo Satoru]

SUMMARY: he is your best friend and the two of you are having a sleepover.

— C.W: sub! Gojo Satoru x dom! female reader , 18+ only , nsfw , riding , blowjob , multiple orgasm , dirty talk , unprotected , pet names , shy gojo , not proofread!

— WORD COUNT : 2.2k

Masterlist

It had been a while since you and Gojo had some quality time together, just the two of you. Life had been hectic, and you both felt the need to catch up and relax.

So, why not have a sleepover?

After discussing your schedules, you settled on a date that worked for both of you. The excitement of the upcoming sleepover added a spark to your days, and you eagerly prepared your place for the special night.

Finally, the day arrived, and you found yourself standing in front of your wardrobe, carefully selecting your sleepover attire. You settled on a soft, worn-in T-shirt that had become your go-to for comfort, paired with a pair of loose, breathable shorts.

As you finish getting dressed, the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts your thoughts. Your heart skips a beat, knowing that it must be Gojo. With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure everything is in place, you rush to the front door,

As you swing open the door, there stands Gojo, a small grin on his face, but a hint of shyness in his eyes. His cheeks slightly flush as he sees you, and you waste no time in enveloping him in a warm, tight hug.

"I've missed you!" you chuckled, breaking away from the hug. "Come inside."

"Thanks," Satoru mumbled, his grin turning even more bashful as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It was clear that he had missed you just as much, if not more.

He looked around your living room, taking in the familiar sights and smells. "So," he said, clearing his throat nervously. "What do you want to do tonight?

„Well..I was thinking of watching a movie. I bought a lot of extra sweets for you.“ you said with a chuckle, a mischievous glint in your eye as you remembered his notorious sweet tooth.

„Ah..Thanks y/n-chan.“ he replied,“Where should I put my things.“ He showed me his gym bag.

„You can put it in my room, considering you'll be sleeping in there. You remember where it is, right?“ you asked.

„Ah, yes, of course." he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly.

„Alright, put your things there while I‘ll bring the snacks.“ you exclaimed, turning around to head to the kitchen. As you got the snacks ready, Gojo made his way towards your room.

As Gojo entered your room, his eyes quickly scanned the area. He noticed the open drawer by the closet, and as he approached it to place his bag inside, he couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the contents. His eyes widened slightly as he realized it was filled with your panties, an unexpected sight that sent a jolt through him.

His heart raced, and he felt a sudden rush of warmth surge through his body. He was acutely aware of the way his chest tightened and his breath quickened. In that moment, he couldn't help but notice how his body reacted to the sight before him. His dick, confined within his pants, gave a noticeable twitch, a physical response he had not anticipated.

Gojo felt a sudden surge of embarrassment and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. He knew he was in your room, and this sight was entirely unintentional, but he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. He quickly placed his bag by the closet, his thoughts momentarily preoccupied with the image of your panties, and then turned away, attempting to regain his composure.

He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment. He returned to the living room, where you were sitting on the sofa, waiting for him.

He found a place beside you and couldn't help but smile, trying to push aside the unexpected encounter in your room.

"You want some?" you asked, extending the water bottle towards him, but Gojo politely declined with a shrug. You opened the bottle and took a sip, savoring the cool liquid.

As you drank from the bottle, Gojo couldn't help but steal glances at you, trying his best not to be too obvious. He felt a growing warmth in his cheeks and an increasing tightness in his pants, which he desperately tried to ignore. Your shirt had become slightly translucent due to the water you had spilled on it, and the outline of your chest was now visible. He also couldn't help but notice your perky nipples, which only added to his internal struggle.

Gojo let out a sigh, as he grabbed the bowl of popcorn on the table, trying to distract himself from the view of your chest. He cleared his throat, attempting to sound as innocent as possible as he settled down next to you on the couch.

"Y/N, w-what are we going to watch?" he asked, his eyes deliberately focused on the TV screen,

You gave Gojo a mischievous grin as you selected a movie from your collection. To his surprise and slight embarrassment, it turned out to be a slightly more risqué film than he had anticipated. As the movie started, he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Gojo tried his best to concentrate on the movie's plot, but the scenes on the screen were rather distracting, and he could feel his face heating up. He discreetly stole glances at you, wondering if you had chosen this movie intentionally.

„Why did you choose that movie,“ Gojo muttered to you, meanwhile on the screen, the male lead started passionately kissing the female lead while groping her breast,

You couldn't help but chuckle at his flustered reaction. "Why not," you playfully replied, "Are you hard or something?"

His eyes widened at your blunt question, and he tried to discreetly adjust himself in his seat, hoping you wouldn't notice his bulge. "N-No, of course not," he protested,

„Sure..,“You leaned closer to Gojo, pretending to reach for the popcorn bowl on his lap. However, instead of grabbing the popcorn, your hand brushed against his bulge.

Gojo gasped and looked at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing?" he whispered,

With a sly smile, you leaned in even closer, your fingers lightly squeezing his bulge, causing him to shudder. "I thought you might need help,"

Gojo's breath hitched. The movie on the screen was quickly forgotten as your hand ventured into his sweatpants. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and the sensation of your fingers brushing against his tip made him shudder. His hard length throbbed beneath the fabric, eager for more attention.

With a teasing smile, you lightly smeared the pre-cum across the head, causing Gojo to let out a low, moan.

Your fingers danced across the sensitive skin of his tip, eliciting more groans and needy sounds from Gojo. He couldn't focus on the movie or any pretense of innocence any longer. His head leaned back slightly as he allowed himself to savor the pleasure your hand was delivering.

Your fingers, slick with Gojo's pre-cum, continued to glide along the veins of his throbbing staff. You could feel the powerful pulse beneath your touch, and Gojo's moans grew more desperate as he surrendered to the pleasure.

He couldn't help but watch as your hand moved up and down, your fingers caressing him, your touch sending waves of ecstasy through his body. He knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer, and he wanted to fully experience the release that was so tantalizingly close.

"Please..." Gojo moaned, his hand gripping the armrest of the sofa as he couldn't contain his desire.

With a smile, you released your hand from his throbbing staff and leaned in. Your lips, guided by your teeth, pulled down Gojo's sweatpants, revealing his aching erection. It sprung free and lightly brushed against your cheek,“Never expected you to be so big,“ you chuckled, as your tongue swirled around his sensitive tip, drawing a throaty gasp from him.

You moved your tongue sensuously along his length, swirling and dancing around his throbbing shaft. You savored the taste of him, your lips forming a tight seal as you slid down, taking him deep into your mouth.

Gojo's moans grew louder, his grip on the armrest tightening as the pleasure surged through him.

With a deep groan, he pushed your head further, encouraging you to take more of him into your warm, wet mouth. His hips lifted slightly, seeking more of your sweet, tantalizing touch.

As you took more of him into your mouth, you couldn't help but gag slightly. His size was overwhelming, and it elicited involuntary tears from your eyes.

With the parts that couldn't fit into your mouth, you used your hands to stroke him. Your warm mouth combined with your skilled hands created a sensation that sent shivers down his spine. His hips began to move in rhythm with your actions,

„D-Don‘t stop!“ Gojo's breaths quickened, and with a final, deep groan, he climaxed in your mouth. You continued to suck him, making sure to catch every drop of his release. His body tensed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, leaving him gasping for breath.

You withdrew from his throbbing erection, a glistening strand of saliva connecting your lips to his staff. Gojo looked at you, his face flushed, and stammered, "Y-you can spit it out..." He watched nervously.

You opened your mouth, revealing that you had already swallowed every drop of his cum. His blush intensified upon seeing that you had willingly swallowed it all.

You got to your feet, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs. Then, you approached him and settled on his abdomen. You leaned in for a passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and hungry, a mixture of longing and desire. Your tongues danced in a sensuous rhythm, exploring each other's mouths

You broke away from the kiss and slowly lowered yourself over his staff. Each inch you took inside was met with a whimper from Gojo. Your tightness enveloped him, causing a surge of pleasure to shoot through his body as if he were being consumed by a feverish inferno.

You lifted your shirt, your breasts bounced as you did so, and Gojo couldn't help but curse softly under his breath. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his lips trembled.

You smiled and guided his hands to your chest, letting him feel your breasts before leaning in for another kiss.

Your movements were slow and deliberate as you began to ride him. Every inch of his large manhood stretched you out, making you gasp at the pleasurable discomfort.

Gojo's hands cupped your breasts, feeling their softness and warmth. His thumbs brushed gently over your sensitive nipples, sending waves of sensation through your body. He squeezed and massaged your breasts, paying close attention to your body's responses,

His size filled you completely, and the sensation was a mix of pleasure and pressure. You could feel every inch of him as he slid in and out of you, and your inner muscles clenched around his hardness.

Your breathing grew heavy "You feel so good inside me, s‘toru.." you moaned, "I want all of you, every inch."

Gojo's face grew warm at your words, his cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. He tried to avoid direct eye contact, but your hand on his cheek gently guided his gaze back to yours.

„Don‘t get shy on me now.“ you spoke. You kissed and nibbled along Gojo's neck, teasing nibbles and gentle suction. Your lips and tongue left a trail of warmth on his skin.

Gojo let out a soft moan. He tried to suppress his shyness, but the sensations you were causing made it difficult. Your words and actions were driving him wild,

Both of you could feel the heat rising, desire building with every passionate move. Your hips moved in a synchronized rhythm, your bodies intertwined. Gojo's fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deeper, lost in the whirlwind of pleasure.

Gojo's ragged breaths mixed with your own, each gasp and moan pushing you both closer to the edge. The room filled with the intoxicating scent of desire and the sound of your passionate entwining. It was clear that both of you were reaching the peak of your pleasure.

He looked into your eyes with an intense, almost desperate gaze, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Y/N… I-I need you. Please.. let me c-come inside you.. please-"

Your heart raced, the connection between you and Gojo reaching its climax. The thought of him losing control and releasing inside you sent a shiver of anticipation through your body. With a sensual smile,“Of course, baby.“ you replied

Gojo's hips moved, as he approached his climax. The sensations were overwhelming, and the world seemed to fade away as he pushed you both toward ecstasy. He thrust deeper and harder, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Finally, the intense pleasure consumed him, and he released with a primal groan, spilling his warmth inside you. The feeling of him pulsating as he came sent you over the edge as well, and you joined him in a passionate release, your bodies trembling with pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you whispered, "You're such a good boy.." A tender kiss landed on his cheek,"Shall we continue in the bedroom?"

569 notes · View notes

glossdebut · 23 days ago

Text

Take a Bite Ch. 7

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: copious amounts of FEELINGS both good and bad, theatre references LOL, world-class meddler kim seokjin, yoongi being hopelessly whipped, angst, smut

✧ WORDCOUNT: 10.3k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: WOW. i don't even know what to say... with this chapter, take a bite is officially complete. THANK YOU so much to those of you who have been reading from the very beginning and sending me such kind words. this story means so much to me and i can't believe it's over. thank you again to @love4myg for beta reading this chapter and the last!! everybody go give tanni some love. i love you all! i tried to give this story the ending it deserves so i hope you enjoy the last chapter <3

Chapter 7: Wanna Do It All Over Again

You’re a planner, a scheduler. You keep a minimum of six to-do lists at a time. You do your best work when your week is clearly laid out for you within the confines of the neat little boxes on your calendar. So you allot yourself one day to grieve what could’ve been with Min Yoongi, and that’s it.

Your Sunday is spent wallowing, because Rina doesn’t give you any choice in the matter and you don’t have it in you to put up a fight. She seems a little bit like she’s grasping at straws on how to help you, though.

You don’t blame her. Rina had dropped everything to be by your side when your ex ended things, but the remedy for that was pretty straightforward.

There was the initial crying on your part—the intense and nauseating kind that felt like it would never stop, until Rina held you and it inevitably did. After the tears came the anger, the picking apart of every little argument you’d had with him, every quirk of his that had soured from endearing to annoying, and Rina had no problem talking shit. Anger turned into drinking, and drinking led to falling asleep in a heap together on your couch.

It didn’t magically fix the hollowness inside of you overnight, but it helped. Rina had a patented method to make a broken heart a little more bearable.

A patented method that, unfortunately, doesn’t really apply here. Your heart isn’t broken over a failed situationship. You’ve been crying, sure, but it’s more of a passive sniffle than anything else. You can’t bring yourself to feel angry at Yoongi either. Confused, annoyed, disappointed, stupid—all of those you can feel just fine. But the anger just won’t come.

Desperate, Rina defaults to cliches. Cheesy movies, ice cream, face masks—the stuff straight out of a ‘How To Get Over Your Ex In Ten Easy Steps’ article in a teen magazine. She paints your nails while you stare blankly at Julia Stiles’ face on your TV. You force yourself to believe it’s helping. You have work to do, a deadline to meet. So if you need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You with Rina and cry it out to cleanse your brain of Yoongi, so be it.

You refuse to use a sick day in general, let alone because of a man, but you do grant yourself permission to work from home on Monday. Not because you’re still grieving—that’s what Sunday was for—but because you look like you’ve been run over, dumped into the river and then fished out.

With greasy hair and puffy eyes, you set your phone to do not disturb and hunker down in your bed to write your profile on Yijeong. Despite the burn of your laptop on your thighs, you type and self-edit for hours, pausing only to listen to your recording of Yijeong’s interview and transcribe direct quotes.

You’re able to churn out a subpar first draft before you burn out around four in the afternoon. Your brain is all over the place, and as a result, the profile is nowhere near where it needs to be. But you don’t have it in you to stare at your laptop screen for any longer.

Rina slipped out this morning and made herself scarce so you could work, so you’re alone. You decide to shower first and foremost, something you’ve been putting off for far too long, and then maybe order dinner if you want to shell out extra money towards a delivery fee.

Stretching your legs as you stand, you use some of your few remaining dregs of energy to drag yourself out of bed and into your bathroom, finally shedding yourself of the sweatpants and shirt you’ve been wearing since Sunday morning.

Your mistake is looking in the mirror. The few marks Yoongi made on your body are only just barely beginning to fade, still dark on your skin. You trace a fingertip over the bruise he’d sucked into your breast just days before, so recently that you can still conjure a phantom of the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin. He’d wanted you so fervently then that you’d been sure at that stupid party that he already felt what you did. That he’d just been waiting for you to catch on.

You don’t know what you did wrong, what kind of misstep you could’ve made to make Yoongi withdraw so suddenly like he did, but you wish you could take it back.

When you finally emerge from your shower, you’re no more energized than you were when you entered. At the very least, though, you’re clean, and you decide to reward your efforts with tangsuyuk.

When you turn your phone off of do not disturb, you can’t help but hope, just for a moment, that Yoongi has texted you today.

Instead, you find that Seokjin has.

[4:42] Seokjin: If you’re not too busy, can we meet?

The anger that had been missing in action floods your senses all at once.

Seokjin wants to meet you. Seokjin, who you’ve met once. Meanwhile Yoongi, who allegedly still wants to be your friend, can’t send you a cursory text or, god forbid, walk down the hallway to explain any of this to you.

You are not this girl. You have gone through strenuous effort to build very sturdy, very high walls to ensure that you don’t become this girl—the one who loses sight of what’s important to her for a man who will just fuck her over anyway, leave her high and dry. Disappear with no explanation. Fuck that.

If Yoongi isn’t man enough to let you down easily himself, if he’s going to have Seokjin do it for him, maybe you’re better off without any bullshit excuse. From either of them.

You swipe out of your messages, ordering your hard-earned tangsuyuk first. Once the payment has gone through, you open Seokjin’s message again, fingers shaking as you type out your stilted reply and press send.

[5:03] You: i am too busy. and not interested.

Bitterly, you set your phone back to do not disturb. The delivery driver will knock when your food is here, and you couldn’t care less about whatever Seokjin’s reply could be.

★ ★ ★

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, but now that you’re committed to feeling pissed off, you actually feel a lot better. Maybe it’s the man-hater in you.

You hyperfocus on finishing the profile, the words flowing much easier now that you’re done feeling sorry for yourself. Even when you have to write about Suga and his impact on Yijeong’s career, you aren’t the slightest bit thrown off. By the time you’re done, you’re confident that it’s possibly the best thing you’ve written in a long time, and when you hand it off to Rina for feedback she concurs.

On Wednesday morning, you drop the final draft off on Kevin’s desk for approval, and then spend the next few hours helping out where you’re needed. Everyone in the office is in a frenzy to get the layout of Look Here’s next issue together. You spend your day copy editing and calling sources with last minute follow-up questions.

When all of the articles are squared away, you lurk by the design team in case they need any extra hands. In return, you get to watch the paginator type your headline onto the front cover, which is… a pretty cool moment for you.

You usually hate the week leading up to print day, but knowing that Yijeong’s profile is going to be on the cover, you revel in the chaos of it.

You’re slightly anxious when Kevin calls you into his office right before quitting time, but you try not to let it get to you too much. You know the profile is good.

“Y/N,” Kevin says, tearing his attention away from his computer as you step into his office. It’s a good sign, you think, that he’s looking you in the eyes this time. “Sit down.”

You sit, immediately tapping your foot to try and calm your nerves. “You wanted to see me?”

“I read your piece,” he says, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his desk. But he doesn’t say anything else.

Um… Okay.

“And?” you ask meekly. He looks at you seriously, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“It was incredible,” he says. Fuck, thank god. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Really?” you ask, your whole body relaxing all at once.

“Really,” he insists. “It was well-written, informative, personal. I don’t know how you got him to open up like that, but I hope you can keep doing it.”

You blink at him. “Keep doing it?”

“You can expect more assignments like that starting next week,” Kevin says, smiling at you warmly. Holy fuck. “We’re all very impressed with you. We want to give you bigger responsibilities moving forward.”

“Thank you,” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement. “Thank you, I won’t let you down.”

“I hope not,” he hums, amused, before turning back to his computer. “Go home and get some rest. Print day tomorrow.”

“I will,” you say, standing up in a flash. You want to call—Rina, you want to call Rina and tell her the good news. “See you tomorrow!”

“Have a good night!” Kevin calls as you leave his office in a hurry.

As you walk back to your desk to grab your bag, it feels more like you’re walking on a cloud. Holy fuck. You were right. This piece was your breakthrough piece, and you proved yourself just like you knew you could. Nothing can bring you down right now.

★ ★ ★

As it turns out, Kim Seokjin is not the kind of guy who takes kindly to being ignored. Based on what you know about him, you probably should’ve been able to figure that out on your own. But you certainly didn’t expect him to ambush you outside of your apartment.

You spotted Seokjin sitting against your door as you made it home from work, although he scrambled to his feet when he noticed you approaching. You wondered how long he’d been sitting there waiting for you to get him. He looked like he was well-prepared to convince you to let him in, a pre-planned speech at the ready, but you didn’t give him the chance, wordlessly letting him inside.

Maybe you were still riding the high of being praised by your boss, but you highly doubted anything Seokjin could say to you would kill your good mood. If he wanted to defend Yoongi’s honor, he was welcome to try.

Your initial impression of Seokjin was that he was boisterous, silly, and a little bit crude. As you sit across from him, all of that still seems to be true, although he seems intent on doing his very best impression of a longsuffering psychiatrist right now.

He sits primly in the armchair opposite the couch you’ve nestled yourself into, his hands steepled together in his lap as he pulls a serious face. It looks strange on him.

“I’d like to preface by saying that you and Yoongi are both being stupid.”

You blink at him, taken aback, until your expression settles into something unimpressed.

“Nice start,” you say flatly.

“You’re perfect for each other and why both of you are willing to throw it away so quickly is beyond me. It’s giving me a headache,” he continues, rubbing at his temples as if to prove his point. “I’m going to play mediator just this once, and then it’s up to you two to figure it out for yourselves.”

“Does Yoongi know you’re here?”

That makes Seokjin snort. “Are you kidding? He’d try to kill me,” he says, crossing his arms. “No, he doesn’t know I’m here. But he told me what happened, and I think there are some things you deserve to know.”

Yoongi told Seokjin what happened. You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips. That’s nice for him. You don’t even know what happened. Yoongi certainly didn’t seem to feel obligated to clue you into his reasoning for ending things.

“Why doesn’t he tell me those things himself, then?” you ask bitterly.

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Keep up.”

“Okay,” you sigh, equally impatient. You’ve changed your mind. You want to get this asshole out of your apartment as soon as possible. “We’re both stupid. What is it that I deserve to know?”

“Yoongi-yah may be stupid, but he isn’t a bad person.”

You sit up straight at that. Is he joking? “What are you, his fucking character witness?”

“I’ve been his best friend for over a decade,” Seokjin snaps, clearly tired of your attitude. As if you aren’t justified in having one. “So if I am his character witness, I’m a pretty fucking good one.”

You open your mouth to say something, something venomous at the tip of your tongue, but Seokjin beats you to it, holding his hand up to silence you. “Can you just be quiet for five minutes and let me say my piece? Please?”

Huffing petulantly, you shrug and lean back into the couch, gesturing for him to continue.

Seokjin visibly regroups. You watch as he sits up a little straighter, shakes off the irritation, takes a deep breath.

“For as long as I’ve known him, all Yoongi has ever wanted was to make something of himself,” Seokjin starts, calmer now. “He loved making music, and he didn’t care about anything else. Least of all himself.”

“I got to know him when we were freshmen in college,” he continues. “I’d heard about him from classmates, seen him around, but you know Yoongi. He’s pretty tight-lipped about things, always has been. It’s one of his many faults.”

You scoff, your bitterness cutting through the air. No kidding. That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? Yoongi’s little omissions, always giving half-truths. The real reason why he ended things with you is just another one to add to the list.

“Anyway,” Seokjin says, his eyes narrowing at you for a moment as he continues. “I was majoring in theatre, and I’d been cast in ‘Into the Woods.’ Yoongi was volunteered by his piano professor to help with the accompaniment, and during our first rehearsal I just remember thinking to myself, ‘who is this scrawny kid who can play Stephen Sondheim with his eyes closed?’”

You wish he’d get to the point already. You’re a sucker for a good backstory, you are. It’s what makes you such a good feature writer. But you’d really like to maintain your resolve in being pissed at Yoongi, if you can help it.

“I was so impressed with him, you know? He does that. He makes everything look so easy. I made it a point to get to know him, and he opened up to me surprisingly fast. I think he needed a friend,” Seokjin continues. “He told me that he was mostly there on scholarships, but he still had to work two jobs to live and pay off the tuition that he did owe. He told me that he utilized the fuck out of the production equipment on campus. He told me that all he wanted to do was make music, and for people to hear it and think it’s worth something.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment, shifting in his chair.

“I think he would’ve done anything to make that happen,” he says, tension in his voice. “I already didn’t like some of the shit he did do, the situations he put himself in, but I think if he knew it could’ve made his dream a reality, he would’ve done much worse.”

Seokjin doesn’t offer up any more information on what exactly Yoongi did, but he doesn’t have to. You gather by the grimace on his face that it must’ve been pretty bad.

“Obviously he made it anyway. You know who he is now,” he says, pausing for a moment. He looks at you seriously. “That comes with its own set of issues, though.”

“Like what?” you ask, disbelieving.

You feel bad for Yoongi, you do. At least for what he must’ve went through in the past. You know what it’s like to struggle, to feel like you can’t possibly reach your goals with the resources available to you. You’re experiencing that currently.

But Yoongi is extremely successful now. Artists trip over themselves to get a song from him because they know it’ll chart, that people will go crazy for it. His track record is that good. How hard can it be, living like that? Having people think so highly of you?

“Like people taking advantage of him at every turn,” he says, his words blunt. “People pretending to care about him to get close to him. Even going so far as dating him. Long-term. Or at least as long as it takes to produce an album.”

Oh.

“…Suran?” you guess, thinking back to the party Saturday night. The way Suran kept touching Yoongi, like there had been something there. Yoongi didn’t seem all that uncomfortable, but he’s got a killer poker face. Could Suran be that kind of person?

“What?” Seokjin asks, bewildered. “No, Suran was just a casual thing. He told you about Suran?”

“I met her. Saturday,” you say, waving a hand dismissively. “They seemed close.”

“That’s been done for years. Yoongi cares about Suran, but it isn’t like that anymore,” he insists, shaking his head. “It was someone else. It’s not my place to say who, but it’s the only time I’ve ever seen Yoongi in love like that. Or at all, honestly. He brought her around all of us, which is a big deal for him. Wrote songs for her. Like, not just for her album, but for her. About her.”

“What happened?” you ask despite yourself. You can feel your resolve crumbling, curiosity getting the best of you. Fuck.

“They were out celebrating finishing the album,” he says. “She wanted to go for a walk after dinner. Kissed him in the middle of the street. The next morning, he woke up to pictures of it all over the internet. She’d texted him, too, breaking it off. It didn’t take much brain power to figure out she orchestrated the whole thing.”

You feel a pang in your chest. As hurt as you are, you also know that Yoongi couldn’t have possibly deserved that. Nobody does.

“He threw himself into his work after that—almost never left the studio. Barely ate or showered,” Seokjin says. “I had to put a stop to it. He was going to overwork himself to death, if I didn’t. I had to help him dig himself out of that hole.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, doing your best to ignore how much that sounds like you. How Yoongi was the one beginning to dig you out.

“That sucks,” you say finally. “But I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Come on, Y/N. You’re smarter than that,” Seokjin huffs. Big talk from the man who’s been calling you stupid this whole time. “Yoongi hasn’t dated anyone since then. Hasn’t even shown interest. Until you.”

“That’s not what it was, between us,” you insist. “I thought, maybe…” Maybe it could’ve been, you think. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it. “But he ended it.”

“Because he’s stupid,” Seokjin says. “Because he got hurt, and it made him stupid, and when you asked him if he could get you an interview with Yijeong, he was scared that was your endgame.”

What?

Yoongi thinks you were using him? What the fuck????

“I wouldn’t—“ you start, but Seokjin cuts you off.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he asks, his gaze piercing through you. “You think I couldn’t tell you were going to fall in love with him the moment I met you? The moment I saw you two together?”

Your throat tightens and you have to tear your eyes away from Seokjin. Love is a big word. One you’re not quite ready to contend with, not now.

“…I like Yoongi,” you manage. You can admit that now, even if Yoongi himself never got the chance to hear it. “But just because he got hurt once upon a time, it doesn’t automatically make the way he ended things with me okay.”

“Just talk to him,” Seokjin pleads.

“Look, I listened to what you have to say,” you say, standing up from the couch. “And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t change some things. But I don’t know if I want to talk to him, okay? Maybe it’s better that it’s ended before we got anywhere serious, if we’re both so fucked up over the past.”

“Y/N—“

“Seokjin, I have work in the morning. I appreciate you coming over to tell me all of this, but I’d really like it if you left now.”

You don’t give him much of a choice in the matter. He’s overstayed his welcome. You make it abundantly clear that if Seokjin doesn’t use his own two legs to walk himself out of your home, you fully intend to grab him by the scruff of his neck and drag him out yourself.

Defeated, Seokjin stands up from his chair and makes his way to your front door. You follow close behind, shutting and locking it behind him before he can get another word in.

When you walk back to the couch, you catch Rina poking her head out into the living room.

Shit. You hadn’t even known she was home.

Wordlessly, you sink back into the couch, emotionally exhausted. Rina sits with you, repositioning you so your head is in her lap, running her fingers through your hair soothingly.

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, but you can practically hear the gears turning in Rina’s head. She’s been biting her tongue since Saturday night, being supportive when you needed it, but not pushing. But she was just in your bedroom that whole time, and Seokjin isn’t exactly quiet. You can only imagine what she heard. You brace yourself.

Finally, she breaks the silence.

“He can play Sondheim with his eyes closed?” she asks.

All of the tension seeps out of you at once. You should’ve known better. Of course Rina won’t push you in either direction. She’s your best friend, your Seokjin. Her loyalties will always be with you, and she knows that you need to process everything on your own.

But she’s also a theatre kid.

“Apparently,” you huff, closing your eyes.

“…That’s really hot.”

You laugh, reaching up to swat at her shoulder. “Not helpful.”

“What are you going to do?” she asks, her voice gentle.

That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What are you going to do? Seokjin made a strong case for Yoongi, but you’re still mad about how everything played out. You trusted Yoongi this whole time to be honest with you, but you keep being made aware, over and over, of how much he keeps to himself. You aren’t sure if you want to fight to be let in, if it’s worth it. You want it to be.

“I don’t know,” you say finally.

Rina hums, continuing to stroke your hair.

“...Do you wanna watch ‘Into the Woods’?” she asks.

You snort softly, sitting up to grab the remote.

“Only if it’s the one with Bernadette Peters.”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi got his very first long-term gig as a producer, Namjoon brought him a potted plant as a studio-warming gift.

Yoongi thought it was stupid at first, because his studio didn’t have any windows—windows would compromise the integrity of the soundproofing—so the plant would have zero chance of survival. And why was Kim Namjoon buying him a plant anyway? New headphones would’ve been better, Yoongi told him.

But Namjoon had laughed and insisted that the plant—a dracaena, apparently—was extremely resilient. That it could still thrive in the darkness.

“That’s why I got it for you, hyung,” Namjoon had told Yoongi. “It reminded me of you.”

Needless to say, Yoongi became obsessed with the thing.

It was just a small little cutting, just barely starting to grow on its own, so Yoongi researched how to properly care for it and took all of the necessary steps to ensure it would succeed, even in his dimly lit studio.

He watered it, pruned it, measured its growth. He sent Namjoon pictures of it on a weekly basis. He named it—Eodumie, thank you very much.

It took a while, but eventually, Eodumie started to die. Yoongi didn’t know why, so he started doing research on dracaena. He’d put so much effort into helping it grow, so it only seemed sensible to figure out why things had taken a turn for the worse. Run into a problem, find a solution.

Yoongi very quickly found out that Namjoon was a little bit dumb, and that the only ‘plants’ that grow in complete darkness are mushrooms. But he still felt like he’d failed.

When Yoongi is really upset and can’t stop turning a problem over in his head, he resorts to extremely heavy-handed metaphors to help himself make sense of things.

So all of that is to say, Yoongi has a tendency to kill things before they have a chance to grow.

He thought, because you didn’t want a relationship, that you were safe from it. And you were, because he really was okay with being your friend. He didn’t expect any more from you.

But then you asked him if he wanted to have sex with you, and… Well, everything changed then, didn’t it? Not because he couldn’t keep things casual anymore—if that’s what you wanted, he would do it. He would try. You make it so hard for him to say no to you.

No, everything changed because Yoongi is an overthinker by nature. He’s attuned to the rhythm of the world around him, notices patterns where others don’t. Especially when he’s seen them before.

He gave you his mouth, and then you wanted more. He gave you more, and then you wanted a favor. He gave you your favor, and then Suran gave you his identity. You had your favor, and his identity, and then you were all over him, and Yoongi knows what happens next. He’s heard that song before.

Shit, Yoongi’s made that song before, unwittingly. And he’s not interested in writing another duet just for it to sour like the last one.

Metaphors, again.

The point is, he cut it off before he was in too deep. Sex complicates things. For him. It blurs the lines, and he’d much rather do you professional favors when he’s not also seeing you naked. It’s the only way he can keep being your friend, and that’s what you want.

Seokjin thinks he’s being an idiot. Seokjin can suck his cock. Yoongi was doing what he thought was right.

He hadn’t expected to hear from you. Over the past week he’d thought about reaching out and explaining himself every day. But he wanted to give you space, maybe. Or maybe he still felt a little sore about the whole thing. But then, Friday night, you text him asking him to come over and…

Now he’s in your apartment.

In all of the weeks he’s known you, Yoongi has never actually been inside your apartment before, he realizes. Is that weird? The closest he’d been was when he picked you up for the party on Saturday. When he’d lingered in your doorway, looking at you in your pretty dress. Fuck, you looked good. He didn’t want to go to that dumb party in the first place, but you in that dress… He wanted to drag you down the hall, get you in his bed. Take it off of you with his teeth.

It’s devastating that now that Yoongi is finally here, you seem so stiff in his presence. Quiet. Unlike yourself. You’re sitting as far as humanly possible from him on your couch, and Yoongi feels like an asshole. Even when you were literally a stranger, you didn’t feel like this much of a stranger to him. It was instant, the way you’d hit it off. Did Yoongi really make things this way?

“I read your article,” he says, cutting through the silence. Neither of you have spoken since he came in, and the tension is making him antsy. Desperate to break the ice.

What he doesn’t tell you is that he read your article the second it came out this morning, that he’s had alerts on his phone for everything published under your name since the day after he met you. That he drops everything to read it all, no matter what he’s doing.

It was beautiful. It was about one of his best friends, so of course he thought so, but you have such a way with words. It’s another thing you have in common, he thinks. You both have difficulty saying what you feel out loud, but when it comes to work, when you’re writing, it just pours out of you.

“You read my article,” you repeat softly, huffing. Yoongi can’t read the expression on your face, and that bothers him to no end.

“Of course I did,” he replies, brow furrowing in confusion. “I always do. Especially this one.”

“We need to talk,” you say. He watches as you turn your body on the couch, pulling your legs to your chest to face him.

“Okay.”

“I need to talk,” you suddenly correct, voice tight. You take a breath, and then, “Seokjin came over the other night.”

Seokjin… Oh.

Oh, Yoongi’s going to kill him. Brutally. He told Seokjin to keep his nose out of his fucking business and instead of listening and staying out of it, he came over to your apartment? Is he insane? Yoongi’s always thought so, in a mostly loving way, but this is a whole new level of intrusion that he didn’t think Seokjin was capable of, and now he has to die.

“He came here? He had no right—”

“It’s fine,” you say, waving a hand. Yoongi’s unconvinced, but he forces himself to settle, to take a breath. You said you needed to talk, and he’s going to let you. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was going to text you, so… It’s probably good that he did.”

Yoongi doesn’t see how that could possibly be the case, but he stays quiet. Waits for you to find the right words.

“This whole past week, I’ve been so… confused,” you start, your eyes fixed on the couch cushion between the two of you. “Confused, and mad at you.”

“I still am, I think,” you continue, lifting your head to look at him. “Mad at you. But I don’t want to be, because I miss you. You said that you still wanted to be friends, but you haven’t exactly put in much of an effort to do that.”

“I wanted to give you space,” Yoongi says. His excuse sounds hollow, even to his own ears.

You shake your head. “You don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that, I just—”

“Let me talk,” you snap, frustrated, and Yoongi’s mouth snaps shut so fast he can hear the click of it. “You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I get it. But if me asking you for help bothered you so much, you could’ve just told me no instead of assuming that I was using you as some kind of stepping stone and then just breaking things off without explaining.”

There’s nothing Yoongi can say to that. He knows you’re right. He should’ve just said no the second he felt uncomfortable, but it was just so important to you he couldn’t bring himself to not help you.

“I get why your brain immediately went there, but I’m not going to apologize or act guilty or anything like that. Because I wasn’t using you,” you say firmly, crossing your arms. “Shit, Yoongi, all the times you’ve offered to help me I’ve tried to stop you. My car? But then the one time I come to you first, you assume the worst and shut me out. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” Yoongi says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

He feels like the world’s biggest piece of shit. For someone usually so observant, he suddenly feels like he’s been blind this whole time. You’ve done nothing but be upfront with him about what you wanted, and still he assumed you were pulling one over on him. He’s spent the past week feeling justified, feeling like he’d done the right thing, but your words have made his entire mindset shift in an instant.

“The night of the party, I…” you trail off. And then you laugh, which makes Yoongi look back up at you. “Yijeong told me I was special. He said that you hadn’t been to an industry event in years, even when he asked you to. I didn’t know that.”

“It was important to you,” he mumbles, sheepish. He didn’t know Yijeong had said anything about him to you. Looking back now, he realizes how stupid that is. His friends are all world-class meddlers. Clearly they need to be, if Yoongi’s this fucking dense.

“See? That right there,” you say, frustrated. “I thought, maybe… I thought you had feelings for me. Non-platonic, romantic feelings. And for the first time since my ex… Did I ever tell you what happened with him?” you ask.

Yoongi had read between the lines. He knew that your ex had a problem with how demanding your job was, and that it’d ended badly, but beyond that he doesn’t know any details.

He shakes his head.

“We were together for almost four years. Almost all through college,” you start. “He met my parents. I met his. After we graduated, we moved in together. In this apartment, actually.”

Yoongi watches you glance around your living room. He knows that look. Years later, he still remembers what his apartment, his studio looked like when they were occupied by someone else. He remembers every detail.

“I thought we were going to get married eventually. We’d talked about it.” You pull your knees tighter to your chest, looking down. “I got my first job at some shitty newspaper. I worked insane hours and it barely paid anything, but it was a start. I was over the moon about it.”

He holds his breath, waiting for what he knows comes next.

“He broke up with me after two months,” you say, your voice wavering. “He said it was because he barely saw me, that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with me if my job was going to be more important than us. It took him less than a week to move out. Four years down the drain.”

Fuck. It’s awful, watching you relive your pain and not being able to do anything but listen. Because Yoongi hurt you, too. He’s the reason you’re digging this up, that you’re feeling it all over again.

Yoongi looks down, picks at his left thumbnail as he listens. He can’t bring himself to look at you.

Your ex is an idiot, he thinks bitterly. How could someone spend four years watching the way you glow when you talk about writing and throw that away?

“I blamed myself. Why wouldn’t I? He told me it was my fault,” you say. “I haven’t been interested in a relationship since. Why try if I clearly don’t have time for it? The thought of you having feelings for me…”

He hears you suck in a breath, braces himself. He thought he’d done a good job of hiding how he felt about you, even after the sex. But he’d made you uncomfortable anyway. Of course.

“It made me want to try,” you say softly.

Yoongi’s head snaps up, his eyes meeting yours. It’s almost insane, the way his heart starts racing in his chest at just the slightest glimmer of hope. You realized how he felt—feels—about you, and you wanted to try? He wants to interrupt you, to ask what that means, but he holds his tongue.

“I think maybe I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you continue, looking down at your knees again. “And I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But when Yijeong told me all of that… I mean, fuck, Yoongi. We weren’t even speaking and you read my article. You helped me even though you thought I was just using you to get ahead. When I hadn’t seen you for weeks, instead of thinking I was a bad friend, you offered up your studio so we could work in complete silence together.”

He would do anything. He would do anything to see you glow. That first night in that horrible Western bar you’d both been dragged to, the way you puffed up with pride when you told him where you work—that’s all he ever wants to see.

“I was going to tell you,” you say. “After the party, I was going to tell you. But then you ended things, and I… I didn’t know why.”

Yoongi needs to salvage this. He needs to know if there’s anything left, if you could ever forgive him for being such a stupid, prideful ass. He hopes.

“Y/N…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You do this thing where you only give me half-truths about shit, and it drives me crazy,” you say, pointing a finger at him in frustration. “All of the secrecy about your job, who you are, how close you are to Yijeong, why you ended things with us. It seriously makes me want to kill you sometimes.”

You’re right. He prides himself on being an honest person, but he kept things from you on purpose. He didn’t want to let you in fully, to let you see him. He didn’t want to get hurt. But none of that was worth hurting you. He’s going to fix this. He’s going to try.

“Then let me clear some things up,” Yoongi says, sitting up straighter.

He scoots closer, closing some of the space between you on the couch.

Yoongi has never been good at talking about his feelings, not out loud. In songs that will ultimately be sang by other people, sure, but doing it like this makes him squeamish. He’ll get over it, though. You need to hear this.

“I’m an idiot,” he says seriously, looking into your eyes. “I’m an idiot for thinking you would do that to me. I was scared and stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you, and that I kept things from you, and that I ended things so suddenly. My past isn’t an excuse. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I should’ve been more open with you, so I’m going to try. Okay?”

You nod once, and he takes it as his cue to continue.

“You were right,” he says, reaching to take one of your hands in his. He intertwines your fingers, staring down at them as he speaks. “About me having feelings for you.”

He hears a sharp intake of breath. He doesn’t know what that means, can’t bring himself to look at you until he’s done verbalizing all of this, but he hopes it’s a good thing.

“I was happy to be your friend,” he continues. “I didn’t expect anything more from you. But yeah, Y/N, I’d be crazy not to have feelings for you. You’re incredible, you know? You’re so smart, so driven, so insanely sexy. I was a goner the moment you introduced yourself to me with a handshake.”

You pull your hand from his, and for a moment he panics, until he looks up to see you using it to cover a tiny laugh. Your eyes are glassy, and although Yoongi hates the idea of making you cry, he feels relieved to know that it’s likely not out of sadness.

“I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you,” he reiterates, pulling your hand back into his and squeezing it. “I never meant to, but I did, and that’s not okay. But if I didn’t completely wreck my chances and you still want to try, I… I promise I’ll do better. I won’t keep things from you, I won’t act without considering your feelings, I’ll do better with all of it.”

You take another shaky breath, biting down on your bottom lip as you process his words. Yoongi feels like he’s going to have a heart attack, tense and pulled taut, but he waits patiently.

The ball is in your court now, Yoongi thinks. This is your decision, as it should be. If you want him to walk away, he will. If you want to stay friends, Yoongi thinks it might kill him now that everything’s out in the open, but he’ll do it for you. But he hopes—

“No more half-truths?” you ask softly, and holy shit.

“I promise,” Yoongi insists. He holds his breath.

“Then I still want to try.”

Relief washes over him instantly, all of the tension leaving his shoulders at once. He didn’t fuck everything up beyond repair. You still want him. Holy shit, you still want him!

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathes, squeezing your hand again. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

“You better,” you say, and Yoongi doesn’t waste a goddamn second. Instantly, he’s moving your knees so he can fit himself between them, cradling your jaw to capture your lips with his.

God, you taste so good. He’s the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.

Yoongi is just happy to kiss you again, to know that you’re his now. But then you make a sweet little sound into his mouth, slide your hands under his shirt, and he pulls away to look at you.

“Baby,” he says, catching his breath. Shit, it feels so good to call you that again. “We don’t have to do anything right now.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, pushing his shirt up impatiently. Cute. “After you left me hanging last time? In a suit, no less.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh, grabbing hold of your wrists to stop your hands in their tracks. “I’m just saying, we don’t have to rush into anything just because—”

But then you shut him up with a kiss, which he melts into easily before you’re pulling back again. You look so serious. Yoongi likes you so fucking much.

“I want my boyfriend to fuck me,” you say, wriggling your hands out of his grip to keep feeling him up, and Yoongi is powerless to resist because fuck, boyfriend. “Is that too much to ask?”

He shakes his head dumbly, mouth agape. He’s your boyfriend. You said it.

You laugh, pinching his nipple, and Yoongi hisses as he’s yanked out of his reverie.

“Come on,” you tease, standing from the couch and pulling him with you. “Bedroom.”

Yoongi follows you to your bedroom eagerly, letting you drag him by the arm. You take a moment to shoo Pepper off of your bed and out of the room, shutting the door to keep her out, but Yoongi’s patience only lasts so long. As soon as the door is closed, Yoongi pulls you to your bed, laying you down on your back and kissing you breathless.

He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you as his hands slide over your ass to squeeze it. You moan in response, your hips kicking up against his, and he lifts his head to look down at you.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs lowly, his lips still brushing against yours. Yoongi thinks he’d give you anything you ask for, especially when you look so sweet and needy beneath him like this.

“Just want you,” you pant, chasing his lips for another kiss. He obliges easily, dipping down to lick into your mouth again.

A part of Yoongi wants to drag this out—really drag it out this time—and tease you until you’re desperate and whining, begging. A part of him wants to see how far he can push you, to make you fall apart so he can put you back together again over and over. But Yoongi’s also not feeling very patient, not when you’re like this. He feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you right now.

You moan as Yoongi rips your shorts down your legs, arch your back as he slides his hand into your panties to feel you.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groans, sinking his middle and ring fingers into your pussy with no resistance. “Always so soaked for me.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper. God, he’s so addicted to that—the way you say his name when he touches you. If it wouldn’t make him sound like a headcase, he’d ask you to record it. Sneak it into his fucking songs. Let the world know how pretty you sound for him.

“Fuck yeah, let me hear you,” Yoongi murmurs. He sets a steady pace with his fingers, curling them up and thumbing at your clit, and you cry out for him, your face contorting with pleasure. Fucking addicting. “Sound so pretty, baby.”

“M-missed you calling me that,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you rock your hips up into his touch, and Yoongi’s more than happy to let you take what you need. “Missed the way you touch me.”

“It’s only been a week,” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as his free hand slides over your abdomen and up to your chest to roll a nipple between his fingers. “Am I that good?”

Despite your pleasure, you still reach out to swat at him blindly, and he laughs when your hand connects with his chest. “I hate you,” you complain weakly, but the way your core clamps down on his fingers tells him something else entirely.

“Nah. You like me.” He dips down to lick and suck at your other nipple, satisfaction buzzing through his veins when your hands thread through his hair, grasping at the strands. Yoongi can feel your urgency, can feel how close you’re getting for him in the way your muscles tense beneath him, and he quickens the pace of his fingers in response. “Come on, baby. You gonna come for me?”

“Shit, Yoongi—” you moan. Yoongi feels the tension in your body break, your pussy fluttering as his fingers pump inside of you, and he lifts his head to look.

You look so beautiful when you come. Fuck, he wants to commit everything about it to memory: the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part in a moan, your eyes shut tight as you just… take it.

“That’s it,” he groans, slowing the pace of his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. “That’s my girl.”

After a moment, Yoongi withdraws his fingers, leaning down to kiss you gently. “Okay?” he asks when he sits up on his knees, studying your face as you catch your breath.

“Mmh,” you hum, nodding. Your body relaxes and you sigh, grinning. “More than.”

“Need a second?” he teases, grinning smugly at how fucked out you look already.

“Fuck that,” you say, catching him off guard when you suddenly sit up, surging forward to tug his shirt up and off faster than he can react. The second it’s off, you’re going for his pants next, impatient.

“Fuck, hold on,” Yoongi huffs breathlessly, amused as you struggle to push his pants down over his hips. He stops you, shifting off the bed for a moment to do away with them properly. “Eager, huh?”

“Can’t help it,” you say, laying back for a moment and lifting your own hips to shimmy your panties down your legs. Yoongi can’t help but stare, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he takes in the sight of you. So fucking pretty.

You grin, sitting up again and gently tugging Yoongi closer by the waistband of his underwear. “Yoongi,” you murmur sweetly, and he hums, transfixed by the sight of your hand moving to palm at him through the fabric. “I wanna ride you. Is that okay?”

He inhales sharply, his eyes snapping up to meet yours. He feels his cock twitch in your hand at just the thought of you on top of him, and you smirk. Damn. You’re the smug one now, huh?

“Are you sure?” Yoongi just needs to check. He wants to make sure that this is really what you want, but he’s already moving to shed the last barrier between you.

“Uh-huh,” you confirm, biting your lip as you glance down at his now-freed length, your hand wrapping around it and pumping him slowly. Fuck fuck fuck. Yoongi is not proud of the noise he makes, the pitch slightly higher than his normal timbre. If he doesn’t get inside of you soon he’s going to lose it.

Mercifully, you let go, your attention momentarily torn away as you shift off the bed to rifle through your bedside table. Yoongi moves to the head of the bed, sitting up against your headboard and taking a second to calm the fuck down. He wants this to be good for you, and if that’s gonna happen he needs to be able to not come as soon as you touch him, thanks.

When you return, condom in hand, all Yoongi can do is watch you as you tear the wrapper open, roll it onto his length. Wordlessly, you straddle him, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“Good?” you ask, and Yoongi nods stiffly. He’s so good. How could he not be, with you in his lap like this? With what you’re about to do? You’ve completely turned the tables on him, and he’s so fine with that.

“Just—” he grits out, squeezing your hips gently. “Fuck, go easy on me, okay? I want it to be good for you.”

“It will be,” you assure him, reaching between his body and yours to guide the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Always is with you.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at you. “Not if I come in two seconds like a teenager,” he points out.

“I’d consider it a compliment,” you tease. Yoongi inhales sharply as you sink down just the slightest bit, his eyes squeezing shut. He feels your lips on his cheek, pressing a gentle kiss there.

“I’ll go slow,” you tack on, and then you start to ease the rest of the way down slowly, stealing all of the breath from Yoongi’s lungs in the process.

“Shit,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. You moan softly once you’re finally fully seated on him, and he squeezes your hips to anchor you there, taking a moment to just look at you. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Yoongi’s words are rewarded with a pretty flush on your cheeks and your shy smile. “Shut up,” you mumble. His heart squeezes in his chest, a grin spreading over his face.

“I can’t tell my girlfriend how beautiful she is?” he teases, using his grip on your hips to encourage you to move, tearing sudden, simultaneous moans from both of you as he starts to guide you into a slow, steady rhythm. “How crazy she makes me?”

“You can,” you pant, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders, using them as leverage to follow his guidance. “Please,” you add, causing Yoongi’s lips to quirk up in a smirk.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to your throat. His hands slide from your hips to your ass, groaning as he grips the flesh in his hands appreciatively. “Do you know how often I think about you? About this?”

“Tell me,” you whimper. You sound so desperate for it, for him, and Yoongi is completely awestruck by you. You’re always telling him exactly what you want, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t want to comply every fucking time. Anything for you.

“Can’t get you out of my head,” he moans into your neck. “You’re so fucking—god, you’re so sexy.” Your hips stutter, and he pulls a hand back to smack your ass once, wordlessly telling you to move a little faster. And you do. “So smart, so passionate. Can feel it in the way you write, but not just that. The way you talk about it, fuck, could listen to you forever.”

You moan, clenching around him, and Yoongi hisses, bucking up into you involuntarily. He’s not going to last much longer, he can feel it, but he can also tell plain as day that you’re just as close.

“Look so sexy riding me like this, too. I’m so lucky,” Yoongi says, sliding his hands over your body as he speaks. “This ass,” he says, gripping it in his hands again. “These tits.” Another squeeze, to your breast this time. “Fuck, your pussy. I could write chart-topping, award-winning songs about this fucking pussy.” One hand slides down, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles. You keen, moaning his name. “How wet it gets for me. The way it tastes, how it feels around my cock. Fuck, Y/N. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

“I’m gonna come,” you mewl, and Yoongi can’t help the growl that tears from his throat.

“Yeah, come on my cock, baby, fuck, I’ve got you,” he grits out, planting his feet firmly into your mattress for leverage as he fucks up into you. He groans, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips meet your ass, the backs of your thighs, setting an urgent pace.

“Fuck!” you moan. Yoongi must be doing something right, judging by the way your thighs start to shake, the way your whole body goes taut in his grip. “Fuckfuckfuckrightthere—”

It’s still true: Yoongi will never get tired of the way you look when you come. You just let go, shaking and moaning and digging your nails into his shoulders as you writhe above him. He did that. Fuck.

His rhythm gets sloppy quickly and he pulls you as close as he can as he thrusts up into you, his own orgasm quickly following. Stars burst behind his eyes as he spills into the condom, groaning into the crook of your neck as he slows to a stop.

You pull him into a kiss, both of you gasping into each other’s mouths as you recover. When you tear yourself away, Yoongi feels your hands cradling his face, and he opens his eyes to find you looking at him, exhausted from exertion but smiling.

“I think all of those things about you too, you know,” you mumble fondly, thumbing his cheek. Yoongi’s heart skips a beat. “It’s not just you.”

His hand comes up to rest over yours, a shy smile playing at his lips. “Guess we won’t get tired of each other any time soon.”

You laugh, carefully lifting up off of his lap. “No, I guess not.”

It’s hard to tear himself away from you, but Yoongi drags himself off your bed to dispose of the condom, navigating his way to your bathroom easily. Your apartment has the same layout, after all. When he returns, he uses one of your towels to wipe you down carefully.

Afterwards, he climbs into your bed with you, pulling you close, your head on his chest. For a moment, Yoongi tries to think back to the last time he felt this way, but he comes up short. Even in his last serious relationship, it didn’t feel this way. In the back of his head, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it until now, he always knew something was off about it. But this, being close to you like this, this thing you were both so scared of… It feels so right.

“Seokjin thinks we’re going to fall in love,” you say after a long moment, your voice quiet. Dangerous thing to say, Yoongi thinks, with your head on his chest like this, so close to his traitorous heart.

“Seokjin thinks a lot of shit. Says all of it out loud, too,” Yoongi murmurs into your hair, taking one of your hands to thread his fingers with yours. “What do you think?”

Yoongi knows what he thinks. He thinks he’s already more than halfway there. He thinks this… you and him could really be something. Not for the first time tonight, he holds his breath.

“I think he’s right,” you answer softly, lifting your head to look at him.

As Yoongi looks back at you—his wallflower, his neighbor, his music journalist friend, his beautiful, hardworking girl—all he can think about is that Western bar he didn’t want to go to. The one he was dragged to on some random Friday, not even a wellness check night. The one he could’ve easily said no to going to in favor of staying in his studio instead. Just another thing he owes his friends for, he thinks. This might be the best one, though.

He squeezes your hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.”

★ ★ ★

EPILOGUE

You didn’t think you were going to make it.

Work has been busting your ass lately, and while you’re endlessly thankful that your career has suddenly taken a sharp turn for the unimaginable—interviewing Lee Chaerin, fucking CL up close and personal, are you joking?—you told Kevin that you had somewhere to be tonight. And that motherfucker still kept you in his office long past five to brainstorm next month’s edition.

Thankfully, you made it out with just enough time to make yourself look presentable in the mirror before making a dash for your car. Unfortunately, you had to forego running home to shower and change clothes, but you did wear a cute sweater and a flattering skirt to work today in anticipation of exactly that situation. Small mercies.

You’re late, definitely late enough for it to be rude, but Yoongi had insisted over and over that this was a completely casual thing.

You love Yoongi, but he’s totally full of shit. There’s nothing casual about meeting your boyfriend’s literal soulmates.

As you stalk towards the front door of the restaurant, you pray that you haven’t completely squandered your first impression before it even begins. Even Rina is making a better one than you—she showed up twenty minutes early. Backstabbing bitch.

Yoongi, ever the gentleman, meets you at the door.

“Will you relax?” he says, exasperated even as he leans in to kiss you ‘hello.’ When he pulls back, he flicks you on the forehead. Asshole. “You texted me your ETA like twelve times. While you drove. This is the furthest thing from a big deal.”

“Says you,” you grouse, slipping your arm into the crook of his elbow easily as he guides you inside. “These are your soulmates. They already love you. What if they hate me? What if they want to burn me at the stake?”

This past month with Yoongi has been nothing short of bliss. You’re both busy, both practically living in your respective workplaces, but sometimes you make time to visit him in his studio and work next to him in silence. Sometimes you come home to find him cooking dinner for you in your apartment and swapping stories with Rina. Sometimes you sleep in on weekends, wake up next to him and admire the softness of his features in the morning, the way Pepper curls up on his chest like he’s been around forever. It’s so good it makes you want to cry. Comfortable. Plus, there’s lots and lots of sex. Sex so good it makes you actually cry sometimes.

“They won’t,” he insists, keeping you close as he weaves through tables to guide you to the private room in the back. “They’ll love you, too. Maybe even more than me. You’re much easier to get along with.”

“That’s true,” you concede with a dramatic sigh, smiling at him fondly. He may be a grouchy hermit, but he’s your grouchy hermit.

When you reach the door of the private room, he stops. You can hear Seokjin’s windshield wiper-y laugh, even with the door closed. “You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning to you with a grin.

“No,” you mumble, pouting. When he runs his thumb over your bottom lip mockingly, you huff at him. “But I guess I have to be, don’t I?”

“Yep,” he says simply, dipping down to kiss you one more time. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. I love you, so they’ll love you, too.”

You hum, grabbing greedily at the front of his shirt to pull him down for one more kiss. “If you say so,” you murmur. “I love you, too.”

You smooth out his shirt and then do a full-body shake to ease your nerves, which makes Yoongi snort. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi nods, smiling at you fondly, gums showing. You’re damn lucky, you think, to be the one at the receiving end of those smiles. He loves you. It’s so fucking stupid how much he loves you, and how much you love him in return. It’s still new, still a little thing that both of you are learning how to nurture properly, but fuck it’s good.

When he opens the door, the noise of friends inside—both yours and his—filtering out into the restaurant, it’s that gummy smile still lingering in your mind that makes you take a step inside. That, and Yoongi’s voice in your head telling you it’s going to be okay. Because if there’s one thing you know beyond a shadow of a doubt after this past month, it’s that Yoongi will always be honest with you.

He squeezes your hand, and you step inside.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @coffeedepressionsoup @butterymin @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @yourfavoritedeluluspot

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST

102 notes · View notes

fairytale-poll · 6 months ago

Text

FINALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Ponyo:

determined 5yo girls are more powerful than god

PONYO!!!!

As a child i did not even realize this was a little merm adaptation, but it really reads. She is sooo strange and other worldly and the movie absolutely captures that dreamlike fairy tale vibe

Ponyo a roughly five-year-old magical goldfish who can transform into a frog-type thing and a human girl. She's the eldest daughter of the literal goddess of the sea and a former human sailor given immortality. She falls in love with the five-year-old boy who cares for her and is thrilled to explore his ordinary yet magical world. She's bouncy, exuberant, and joyful. She loves ham. She doesn't have to give up her voice.

ponyo ponyo ponyo little fishie in the sea!

Little fishy

THEY LOVE HAM

Bug:

Their a bug that falls in love with a human they rescue and becomes human, but even when they don't get to keep their human body, they still get to be with their love. It's a sci-fi fairytale musical.

Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers musical starring awesome puppets and the most trans coded main character ever. Please. Please vote Bug Starship I love him. Go watch Kick it Up a Notch from Starship. Go watch Status Quo from Starship. You will understand.

He's a bug and he lives in space on a bug planet but he really wants to be a starship ranger which you can only be if you are a human and then one day a spaceship lands on his planet and so he goes to an evil bug called Pincer who then helps him become a human. And Bug falls in love with a human on the spaceship and it's very sweet. The musical and storyline are based on the little mermaid story, the creators themselves called it "the little mermaid but in space". Bug wanting to be a human/a starship ranger and achieving that and falling in love with a human is very much like the little mermaid

Starship is a musical that can only be described as The Little Mermaid meets Starship Troopers. It follows Bug, an alien bug who dreams of being a Starship Ranger, a galactic explorer/soldier, but the rigid confines of bug society keeps him trapped in a job he hates. He reaches a Starship Ranger named February from the hive and immediately falls in love with her. In order to be with her and pursue his dream, he makes a deal with a giant scorpion named Pincer who through sci-fi bs gives him a human body. Near the end of the second act he sacrifices his human body and returns to his bug body, and saves the day and wins February's heart. It's truly the ultimate Little Mermaid. He has multiple songs, and his bug body is portrayed by a puppet!! Vote for Bug!!

“It's a big, big, universe So many dimensions And unanswered questions Not to mention Life What an invention Life There's no choice involved in what you are given One mind, one voice, one body to live in It's a short, small thing we lead With so much potential Pointless or essential Which one can I be? Where do I fit? Where do I stand? Who are they to say what I am? And how can I stay inside this awful world I know? I need a way out I need an escape I'd rather be dead than to live in this place I wish that something or someone could just take it all away Someone take me away” dear god….. can anybody hear me…. (song from starship)

They are the purest little mermaid adaptation done in the most unuque way. An alien insect gets turned into a human, a race he has always loved and admired, to be with the woman he fell in love with. Also just a great musical.

Bug's whole arc is so so in tune with that of the little mermaid. He is an alien who has fallen in love with humanity through a crashed spaceship and trades his place in the hive for a chance to be with both with the human he's falling for and to be a Starship Ranger. He body swaps with human in a cryogenic pod! It's literally sci-fi Little Mermaid!

Don't stick to the status quo and pick the fairy tale!! it's what HE would want!!!

#ponyo #studio ghibli #bug #starship #team starkid #starship by team starkid #the little mermaid #little mermaid #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls #fairytale #fairy tale #tournament finals #finals #round 6 #the little merpoll

165 notes · View notes

yutasbellybuttonpiercing · 1 year ago

Text

Soulmatch™ — App-grade your love life!

(new picture bc this is the renjun i imagined in this)

pairing: huang renjun x reader

au/genre: smut, humor, fluff, angst, strangers to enemies to lovers...?, non-idol!AU

characters: huang renjun, f!reader, best friend!jaemin, best friend!haechan, friend!chenle, renjun's parents

word count: 24.807 words (oh my god)

general warnings: mentions of cheating, men being dudes and dudes being bros, lack of communication, haechan is a milf hunter, trust issues, insecurities regarding relationships, hook ups, smoking, alcohol, mentions of vomit (nothing graphic or detailed, literally just the word), mentions of erectile dysfunction (???), emotional manipulation..? past na jaemin x reader, implied past huang renjun x wong yukhei / lucas, toxic masculinity, daddy issues, haechan and jaemin talk very vulgarly and do not know boundaries, mentions of virginity, crying, heartbreak, author makes use of their limited knowledge of tarot.

smut warnings: ...hate sex...?, unprotected sex (nuh-uh!), fingering and brief oral (f receiving), face-fucking, switch!renjun, switch!reader (?), pet names, a lot of imagining sex, brief choking, mentions of anal, creampie.

synopsis: Renjun is a hopeless romantic, his goal is to meet his perfect match by the end of the year, maybe even his soulmate. The perfect solution: an experiment for finding love through an app. Renjun doesn't care who it is, as long as they're a perfect match, he thinks. But then you show up...

a/n: i really love this so much. it's a bit different from what i usually do bc it has a real storyline! it's complicated (not really)! i really poured my heart and soul into this. i love renjun so much. argh! also, why do my endings always feel rushed???? help???

taglist: @she-is-dreaming @nctzennikki09 @babyjenono @noonaisreading

"Why the fuck do they need information on my favorite toys from ages five to ten?" Renjun groans, rubbing his temples before quickly grabbing ahold of his phone to facetime his mother. The ringing sound of his phone had always managed to annoy him, and he wonders whether there'd be a section in the forms where he could put that down.

Staring at himself on his screen, he fixes his brown hair. It had gotten quiet long over the past few weeks since his last haircut. Admittedly, he hasn't had the energy to leave the house, really, thankful for his freelancer job that allows him to work from the confines of his own four walls. Although, he'd thought about growing his hair out anyway.

Finally, his mother answers the phone.

"No, it's Renjun... No, turn the TV down! Down! Lower the volume," his mother shouts, not at him, but at what he could only assume is his father, judging by the Jackie Chan movie playing in the background, that after all these years, he can identify by the sounds only.

"Hello, Junnie," his mother finally addresses him, a gentle smile on her face, a harsh contrast to the annoyed frown she'd thrown at her husband earlier.

"Hey, mom," Renjun says, tapping on his own video so it would fill the screen instead of his mother's.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine. Uh, listen. Do you remember which toys I liked when I was 5?" Renjun finally lets his hair fan over his forehead in peace, getting frustrated that it's not staying in the exact place he wants it to. He's only talking to his mother anyway. That woman'd wiped his ass a few years back, so why bother.

"What an odd question," she grins, briefly getting distracted by something happening behind her phone which she shoos away with her hand and a tight lipped frown that disappears as soon as he lays her eyes back on her son.

"I just need to know. It's really important."

"Okay, let me think. I believe you liked this one thing- this squishy" – her hand squishes the air in front of her phone – "what is it called?"

Renjun can hear his father's voice from behind the phone, "what? Plushie?"

"Yes! You had a plushie that you really liked!"

"A plushie..." Renjun mumbles, filling the letters into the field, "what color?"

"It was a cow."

"So black and white?"

"Those are the usual cow colors."

"Okay. And when I was six?"

"Honey, what do you need this for? Is it still this love calculator thing? You know I read that article about it online-" His mother raises her brows in concern.

"Yes, but I didn't want to say it, because-" Renjun's words get cut off by his father's obnoxiously loud voice as he yanks the phone from his mother's hands, his big head coming into view and Renjun has to immediately roll his eyes.

"That's nonsense, son, and you know it. Anyway, when will you come by again? I bought steak. You know no one can make steak like I do!"

"Yes, I know. I won't be able to make it any time soon, though." Renjun sighs, fingers fiddling with a loose string sneaking its way out of the couch cushion.

"What if I told you we had some fine wine?" – "Stop dragging our son into alcoholism," Renjun's mom finally wins the phone back, but Renjun can still hear his dad's laugh in the background.

Renjun huffs. "So? Year six?"

"Honey, I'm really not sure. You've had a fire truck phase, then enjoyed dinosaurs, then couldn't get enough of those collectable horses. You were a very diverse kid with so many different interests. I don't think you can categorize that or sort it into years. Just say that you liked all kinds of toys–"

"Even girls' toys!" His father laughs.

"Alright," Renjun sighs, pressing his lips tightly together before wishing his mother a good night and ending the call.

"All kinds of toys..." Renjun mutters to no one but himself as he types his answer into the box, shaking his head. He's been filling out these forms for days on end, and slowly he starts believing his parents' words that it's just nonsense.

But it is his only hope.

_____

"A what for what?" Donghyuck asks, mouth as full of burger as Renjun's own, hence why he couldn't understand him the first time. Renjun holds up his hand, chews aggressively, then swallows hard.

"An experiment for finding love," he explains a second time, and the crease in between Donghyuck's eyebrows only seems to be getting deeper with every word that leaves Renjun's lips.

"What the fuck is that?" Donghyuck asks (assumingely, Renjun still can't understand him over the huge bite of patty and bun inside of his mouth).

"You give a whole bunch of information about yourself to the scientists, and they use some software to find your ideal partner," Renjun explains briefly. There's a bit more to it than just that, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Donghyuck's brain while he's eating.

"Pff, okay?" Donghyuck says, a few crumbs of- whatever that had been only mere seconds ago flying out of his mouth and directly onto Renjun's forearm. The older contorts his face in utter disgust, shaking the sticky pieces of food off of his skin.

"You're a pig, Donghyuck," Renjun states, wiping the spot with his napkin because he can still feel Donghyuck's saliva on himself.

"I might be a pig, but at least I got game." Donghyuck finally swallows, grinning proudly with a small piece of lettuce stuck in between his teeth which Renjun has yet to decide telling him about after that insult.

"You don't have 'game'," Renjun spits, fingers motioning quotation marks, "you just have low standards. You'd fuck everything that bends over in front of you."

"That is not true!"

"Need I remind you of what happened with Chenle's mom?"

"She is a milf!" Donghyuck whines, letting his hands weakly fall down onto the table.

"Whatever." Renjun sighs. "Point is: I'm not lacking game, I just want to wait for the right person."

"Alright, two explanations, same outcome: your dick is dry as fuck," Donghyuck nods, pointing his fry at Renjun before he drags it through his vanilla milkshake and stuffs his mouth with it. Renjun presses his lips together, frowning slightly as he imagines the taste of that. "So when are you getting banged?"

"I don't want to get banged, Hyuck," Renjun answers, fingers coming up to rub at his temples. He knows he's lying, Donghyuck knows he's lying, so why did he lie? "There is more to it than sticking my dick up a hole."

"Just any hole? You didn't specify that it should be a pussy?" Donghyuck's eyes widen and he stops his motions. Renjun watches anxiously what a large amount of time Donghyuck's been holding a new fry into his milkshake for.

"I didn't. I don't care."

"You'd shag a dude?!" Donghyuck's shrill voice attracts the eyes of several people sitting around them.

"I don't know why you needed to let everybody know about that," Renjun say through gritted teeth, "but yes. I don't mind."

"I didn't know you were bi," Donghyuck finally sucks the fry into his mouth, then cleans his fingers with his tongue.

"I'm pan."

"Same thing."

Renjun opens his mouth to protest, but he's honestly a little drained to dispute with Donghyuck right now. Wow, what has he become...

"So, when are you finding real love, then?" Donghyuck tries again, empathically sensing that he just scratched at Renjun's teasing-limits and should therefore tone it down a little before he loses a friend.

"I finished filling out the forms a couple of days ago. They have to analyze it and then find someone in their data base. I'm not sure how long it's going to take," Renjun explains, losing a tad of hope with every word at the realization. It's probably going to take forever.

"Okay, then what do you say: one last time going out on pussy hunt with the boys?"

_____

Renjun realizes that this is not one of his proudest moments as he stands leaned against the bar. On the outside, he might look cool and relaxed (or at least that's what he strives for), but he's honestly close to being shit-faced and needs the bar for not losing his balance. Admittedly, it's been some time since Renjun's last time out and he's been a bit nervous.

"This is great, huh?" Chenle says next to him, cool as ever as he leans his back against the bar, keeping his balance with only his forearms. Renjun envies him.

"Totally," Renjun retorts sarcastically, but Chenle doesn't seem to pick up on it.

His other friends had already abandoned him, always with a dirty grin as they got dragged away by a pretty girl. Renjun just can't get behind this whole thing of hook-up culture. Why would you want that when you could- never mind, Renjun understands why people hook up. He really shouldn't judge other people when he's the one who signed up for a love experiment.

"So I heard this is going to be your last time going out with us?" Chenle asks, then takes a sip from his beer bottle. Renjun likes hanging out with Chenle, but the younger's busy schedule doesn't offer much time for friend activities. Chenle is generally laid back and doesn't judge others. Well, not really, he just likes to tease, but generally speaking, he is a good person to open up to.

"Yeah," Renjun answers shortly, not in the right state for a long conversation.

"Because of that love app?" Chenle asks, and Renjun briefly looks over at him to see a teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," Renjun repeats in defeat.

"I think it's cool," Chenle says, corners of his mouth turning downwards making him look impressed, but Renjun doesn't seem convinced. "You know, real love. It's rare these days, I think it's admirable. Really."

"Thank you," Renjun says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Hyuck's been teasing me a lot for it, but I just.. don't like this hook-up culture. I want to settle down."

"I get you, man." Chenle nods, clinking his beer bottle with Renjun's glass that contains the last few drops of a cocktail, then empties his bottle. As if on command, a girl leans against the bar next to him, whispers something into his ear while tugging at his sleeve. A grin forms on Chenle's face before he turns to Renjun.

"Sorry, gotta go. She says she needs Daddy." Chenle winks at Renjun who gives him a combination of a genuine chuckle and an awkward smile in return, then waves at Chenle's figure getting dragged towards the restrooms.

Renjun sighs, then his eyes scan the crowd. It's stuffy, the fog machine on a too high setting making it hard to even make out faces. It also feels hot, no wonder considering the amount of bodies dancing and sweating to the sound of the music, and the entire atmosphere feels too uncomfortable to find someone he could- sleep with. All of his friends are gone anyway, there's no way they could check if he got with someone or not. Sighing once again in defeat, Renjun decides to call it a night. He steadies himself, then tumbles over to the door, pushing it open to be hit by cool air. He immediately feels like he's drank 2 glasses of alcohol less than he actually did.

"Cigarette?"

_____

"This is not something I want to brag about," Renjun says the noon after, his butt placed on a chair in Donghyuck and Jaemin's man cave. It's actually just their shared home, but judging by the looks and smell of it, Renjun cannot not call it a man cave.

"Couldn't get it up?" Jaemin asks, an understanding nod moving his head. The younger looks messed up, respectfully, his hair tousled and eyes still not completely adjusted to being awake, the size of the cup of coffee in his hands an indicator of how he's feeling right now. Donghyuck really doesn't look any better, his body leaned over the table with his forearms supporting his weight.

"What? No!" Renjun shakes his head with a frown. He really loves his friends, but sometimes he wonders why he's even friends with them.

"Did you puke on her?" Donghyuck covers his mouth with his hand. Yeah, Renjun wonders in times like these.

"No."

"Did she puke on you?"

"No! There was no vomit involved," Renjun explains, eyes widened in alarm. This conversation slowly but surely makes him wonder how his friends' hook-ups tend to go... not that he wants to know, considering all this talk about throwing up.

"Then why are you not sharing every single detail?" Jaemin grins, scooting his chair closer to Renjun until he's uncomfortably pressed up against his cheek, reeking like coffee and sleep.

"Because..." Renjun frowns in defeat. "Because she was gone this morning."

"And? What, are your balls itchy?" Donghyuck raises his brows.

"What? Why would my balls be itchy?" Renjun whines, finally peeling his cheek away from Jaemin. "She didn't give me an STD, nor an UTI. W-we used a condom, I think."

"You think?" Donghyuck laughs, straightening his back from being leaned over the table for too long. "Did our Renjunnie hit it raw?"

"Honestly, I don't know why we're talking about this?"

"Did her pussy grip you too tightly to pull out?" Jaemin asks, nodding understandingly while padding his shoulder, "happens to the best of us."

"You're a maker, Renjun," Donghyuck adds.

"First of all, I don't know what that means. Second of all: the sex was fine! Great even-" Renjun tries to defend himself and his hook-up, even though he's not entirely sure why, considering she, well, left without a trace.

"Did she smell good?"

"What, her vagina?"

"Everything."

"Uh- yes? She used perfume, and everything else smelled healthy, I guess. But what I'm trying to say is-"

"Jaemin you bastard! You really have a problem, fucking panty sniffer!" Donghyuck laughs loudly, making Renjun instantly aware of his own hangover.

"Sue me," Jaemin leans back grinning, hands coming up in faux defense.

"It bothers me that she snuck out without even saying anything!" Renjun shouts, palm coming down on the table top with such force that both of his friends jump. It goes silent for a while until Donghyuck opens his mouth once again.

"I understand, man." He leans forwards, placing a palm on Renjun's shoulder. "That was really disrespectful of her." "Not cool," Jaemin chimes in supportively. "But look on the bright side: you'll never have to see her again."

"I guess that's true," Renjun mumbles, "but-"

"But?"

Hesitantly, Renjun looks into Jaemin's face, then into Donghyuck's. "It was really good."

Chaos breaks loose, both of them cheering loudly. Donghyuck begins laughing until his knees hit the floor – an impressive action considering the amount of alcohol his system has to fight – and even Renjun manages to crack a smile.

_____

"Jun, you might wanna see this," Donghyuck proposes hesitantly from the other room. Renjun, already annoyed about having to make his way all over to the living room and abandoning his brewing tea, sighs. What in the world could be important enough to summon him from the kitchen?

"Can't it wait?"

"Believe me when I say you might wanna see this."

Renjun aggressively throws his hands in the air for no one to see, he can't live in peace for even a second with this guy. Still, he stomps over, standing in the door frame with furrowed brows and crossed arms. "I swear if this is some stupid shit again-"

"It's your dating app."

Renjun rolls his eyes, "they've been sending useless messages for the past four months, I don't fucking care."

"It says they found a match." Donghyuck finally looks up from Renjun's phone, eyes wide and mouth shaped into an 'o' form. Renjun's own eyes bulge out at the preposition. "What?!"

He stumbles over, ripping the device from Donghyuck's fingers and holds it close to his face. Indeed, there's the notification. They found them. They found someone!

"Man you should really get your eyes checked if this is how-"

"Shut the fuck up, I'm the happiest man alive!" Renjun beams, smacking Donghyuck in the back of his head without lifting his gaze from the screen. Donghyuck mewls, and it sounds a little too much like a moan, but everybody knows Donghyuck is a little pain slut, so Renjun pays him no mind.

Renjun instead klicks on the notification, the application he hasn't visited in over half a year popping up slowly. There it is. The moment Renjun had anticipated for such a long time. He's a little disappointed that he can't visit this person's profile or anything, but he quickly forgets about it as his eyes land on a button that spells: 'send an invitation'.

"Hyuck, you have to go," Renjun announces, causing Donghyuck to lift his head, gaze drifting away from his own phone screen to look at Renjun perplexed.

"Eh?"

"Leave! I have to get ready," Renjun whines, peeling Donghyuck off of his couch by his wrist. Donghyuck complies balky, but lets himself get pushed out of the front door that Renjun closes in his face immediately, then rushes into the bathroom.

The invitation was sent for tonight, 8 pm. That means he has four hours to get himself and this shit hole he calls his home ready, and the task seems nearly impossible. That is until he finds himself, embarrassingly out of breath, ruffling his hair one last time in front of the mirror by the front door before the doorbell rings. He made it just in time.

His hands shake as he presses the button that opens the door, and a little harder even as he grips the handle to open the door to his apartment.

"Get a grip," he tells himself quietly, then puts on a smile as he listens to the footsteps climbing the staircases. His heart beats rapidly against his ribcage as his eyes focus on where is soulmate is going to appear in the next few seconds.

There, a foot comes into sight, followed by...

"You?!"

Silence.

"Hi?"

"I'm gonna need a minute-"

After splashing cold water in his face in the bathroom and pulling himself together, Renjun comes back to find you sitting on his couch, looking a little nervous, but generally contained and not as bothered by this disaster as Renjun. Sitting down, Renjun watches the arms move slowly over the face of his antique clock that with every passing second omits an obnoxiously loud ticking sound that is only overshadowed by the thick tension hanging in the air. Every once in a while, his gaze traces your form on the farthest end of Renjun's couch, staring blankly at the wall.

"Why did you sneak out?" Renjun puts his thoughts into words, eyebrows scrunched together in a mixture of anger and disappointment.

"It was just a hook-up," you turn your head to whine at him, "I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this?"

"Because it-" Renjun starts, but then decides that he'd much rather not appear pathetic in front of you for moaning about that being his last sexual encounter before formally agreeing to wait for the one.

"Alright," you sigh after a while, "I'm sorry, alright?"

Renjun clears his throat and nods, "okay. Thank you."

"I'd much rather talk about the important things right now," you say, turning your entire body to sit cross-legged on the couch facing Renjun. You take a deep breath before opening your mouth again. "I'm just going to say what everyone here is thinking: the app obviously made a mistake."

Renjun's eyebrows fly upwards as he blinks once, very slowly, "excuse me?"

"Yeah. I mean, no offense, but you're obviously a softie! And I like tall men,-"

"I don't think I'm getting this right, you fucked me before?!"

"Yeah, it was fine for a night, but-"

"And why am I a softie- or, first of all, why is that bad? We both did the experiment, we're both looking for a perfect match, or am I wrong?" Renjun did not even notice getting up from his place on the sofa, or when he started pointing an accusing finger at you.

"I don't know, you take it so serious-"

"And you're being a real bitch right now." Renjun furrows his brows even further as you get up as well to stand right in front of him, your pointer finger pushing into his chest.

"I do not appreciate you calling me that."

"I have done nothing wrong, I cleaned this whole place, and even when I realized that it had to be you, of all people, I was willing to work with it, but right now, I just want to..."

Renjun realizes how close you are to him right now, he can smell your perfume, the same scent you'd worn the other night. Even if it was whole while ago, he still remembers the dusty note that now once again tickles his nostrils, immediately taking him back to that night.

"...kiss you."

Renjun hasn't even closed his mouth before your lips press against his, your passion wild and untamed as your bodies press closer, your hands immediately going to his hair, gently pulling so it stings at his scalp as Renjun's own hands roam over your form to settle on your waist and ass.

His head is clouded, his mind hazy with the feeling of you against him. He's a little embarrassed of your affect on him, immediately growing hard in his pants as soon as you hump yourself against him, content sighs flowing from his mouth into yours.

It's hectic, hands touching everywhere at once all of a sudden, fingers clutching clothing in an attempt to rid the other of them, limbs tangling as Renjun moves the both of you to the nearby bedroom.

You somehow manage to peel yourselves out of your clothes, Renjun can feel how wet you are for him, and though he's so focused on only you, he can't help but comment spitefully, "you prefer tall men, huh?"

"Fuck you," you gasp before kissing him again, and Renjun does not quite know how to feel about this, maybe it's bad, maybe it's good, but he assumes that this type of behavior should not make his tummy fill with butterflies. It still does.

Renjun lines himself up with your hole, then thrusts forward. He doesn't take his time to prep you like last time, he finds that if you want to act like a bitch, you should be treated like one. He's also very perplexed that he's thinking like this, he never has, but he guesses you bring this side out in him.

You cry out in pure bliss as he stretches your walls that are struggling to take his size, your eyes rolling back at the overwhelming pleasure. Renjun's thrusts are quick and hard, ramming his tip against your spot in a way that makes you see stars and your thighs shiver around his waist.

Your orgasm approaches fast, almost embarrassingly fast considering you made such a fuss earlier, Renjun admits to himself, feeling proud as he pushes you over the edge with ease. The moans tumbling from your lips are nothing short of pornographic, and Renjun does not have it in him to shut you up for the sake of his neighbors.

Instead, he pulls out, then quickly replaces his cock with his fingers, pressing them upwards repeatedly to tickle another quick high out of you. His eyes are on you the entire time while yours are closed, assumingely overwhelmed with how good he's making you feel.

Once you writhe from overstimulation, Renjun removes his fingers as well, licking a fat stripe over your cunt before turning you around and pressing your face into the sheets.

"I'll show you how much of a softie I can be," he grunts before pushing in once again, his hand pressing against the back of your head as he crashes his hips into yours with such force that the bed frame penetrates imprints into his wall. Your moans are muffled, and Renjun decides that he'd much rather have his neighbors hear how good of a fuck he is, so he grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you up.

"Oh God," you whine, back arching beautifully to take even more of him, and Renjun suppresses a coy grin at the fact that he's able to destroy you that easily.

"Hm? Not so soft now, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum again-" you announce, hands gripping the sheets as you try to ground yourself, to just take and take and take what Renjun gives you, and soon after he can feel you clench around him as another orgasm takes over you, leaving you weak and shaky.

"Too much?"

You shake your head, but Renjun pulls out nevertheless. "Get on your knees, I want you to suck me off."

Never in his life has Renjun seen someone hurry off a bed so eagerly. You open your mouth compliantly, like a well trained slut, and Renjun can simply push his cock between your lips and fuck your mouth. "Tap my leg when I should stop."

You nod quickly, then relax your jaw for him to use you. Renjun loves this sight of you. He remembers what you looked like when you came over, with pretty makeup and perfectly styled hair – and now everything's ruined, your hair messy and tangled, your makeup smudged by a mixture of tears and spit. Renjun loves how hazily your eyelids flutter as you try to look up at him, eyes seemingly focussing and un-focussing, more tears welling up in your eyes before they trickle down your cheeks, spit coating your chin as you gag a little.

Renjun believes he could get used to this.

_____

The sun tickling the tip of his nose is what wakes him up the next morning. With a groan, he tries to adjust his eyes to the bright light shining into his bedroom – the downside of having a bedroom that faces east. Once he realizes where he is, the memories of last night come flying back to him. He has to find his arms to be much emptier than when he went to bed the night before. He sighs, a hand coming up to run over his face. Honestly, he didn't even have to check the rest of his home to know that you snuck out again.

A mug filled with coffee in hand, Renjun lets out a shaky sigh. It stings, he's not going to lie, but maybe you have your reasons, maybe something came up, maybe you need time to think. Or maybe you just hate him and only want to use his desperate state of romanticism and body for your selfish nature.

This assumption is neither proven to be false nor correct when his doorbell rings a couple of months later. In the meantime, Renjun had done nothing but sulk, try to pull himself together, work non-stop to get you out of his mind, realized it's not working and went back to sulking, then the cycle repeated itself. He hadn't even updated his friends about the encounter for a lack of energy, basically. His apartment is a mess, empty to half-empty boxes of takeout littered all over the place, bottles with a last sip left left and right that Renjun trips over every few hours only to curse loudly and do nothing to clean them up afterwards. Basically, he's living like Donghyuck and Jaemin right now.

His feet drag him to the door. "Hello?"

"They're threatening me."

Renjun, without even having heard it twice through the speaker, recognizes your voice immediately. And before he knows it, his finger presses the button that opens the door with a buzzing sound. He curses at himself, panic arising as he listens to your heavy footsteps climbing up the stairs to his apartment. Once you step into sight, Renjun loses his ability to talk. Why do you have to look gorgeous? Why does he want to get on his knees and eat you out immediately? Why is he so weak?

You take fast steps and invite yourself into Renjun's home as he does nothing but take a few careful steps back. You then lock the door as you check the hallway behind the door through the peephole for any potential threats.

"Who?" Renjun finally gets out.

"The app developers," you mumble before retrieving from the door.

"Why?"

"They know I left, now they keep threatening me."

"I doubt that," Renjun frowns.

"Look!" You push your phone into his hands. Renjun curiously scans the last notifications the app sent you.

How did it go? Did you find your soulmate with us? Please rate us in the app store.

Hey! We found your soulmate! Now all you need to do is rate this experience.

Your soulmate is happy to have you. Thank you for working with us, please leave a rating in the app store.

Rate your love experience now!

Renjun snorts.

"What?" You watch him with furrowed brows and crossed arms.

"These are hardly threats."

"They just keep coming, this has to be a threat. Haven't you gotten any?"

"I don't know, I don't have the app anymore," Renjun mumbles.

"Right..." you say, finally taking a first look around the place. "And what happened here?"

"Stop judging me!" Renjun turns his back to you while crossing his arms. Of course he hadn't had the time to deep clean his apartment when he was busy sulking and writhing in self-pity for the past months. And, to be fair, it was all your fault!

"Alright, maybe they're not threats, per-se. They still made me feel bad..."

"Oh?" Renjun turns back around, eyebrows raised. "It has a heart?"

"Ha-ha," you deadpan, but Renjun can't suppress a smile as he makes his way over to the kitchen to grab himself something to drink, and you kicking your shoes off, and then following him on track like a lost puppy.

Renjun opens the fridge and pours himself a glass of the fruity water he's prepared a few hours ago (not because he felt like it, only because he was afraid the remaining fruit his mom brought over because she coincidentally happened to be in town a few days ago would go bad if he didn't use them). He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a refreshing sip.

You watch him set the glass down on the counter. "Aren't you going to ask me if I want something?"

With a hint of playfulness that he does not want to give away under any circumstances, Renjun scoffs, "yeah, as if I'm going to be nice to you after the stunt you pulled. Twice." Renjun holds up two of his fingers to highlight his words.

Your brows furrow as you open your mouth to complain, but you must have realized he's right, so you shut it again, turning into a cute pout instead. "I'm sorry. It's just- it's hard-" You give up and press your lips together tightly. "Can we- start over?"

"Oh? From what point?" Renjun raises his brows, lifting his hand to count with his fingers, "when you abandoned me the first time? When you insulted me? Or when I fucked you so good you couldn't stop drooling on the sheets?" He smiles in victory at your shocked expression. "To which I could also add: the first or the second time." He wiggles two fingers in front of your face with a smug smirk.

"I wish I could say this behavior of yours irritates me to the point where I just want to give up, but you're kind of hot looking all messed up and heart-broken because of me while sporting that victorious grin," you say and step towards him.

"Ah, really?" Renjun's confident shell starts to crumble.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" You stop right in front of him, and Renjun has to press his ass against the counter to keep that little distance that allows him to breathe. Amused, the corner of your mouth twitches, then you extend your hand as your gaze bores into his.

"Hi, my name is ____ and I would love to suck your cock."

Renjun hates the way his breath hitches as he carefully shakes your hand for a reason he is not aware of. "I-I'm Renjun," he simply says, and the playful smirk on your face widens as you pull your hand out of his to lay atop of the waistband of his sweatpants. Renjun hates it even more that he feels his blood that just milliseconds ago thumbed through his ears now rushing downwards awakening his cock.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" Your voice is bittersweet as you bat your lashes at Renjun who gulps before breathing out a "yeah".

You smile, fingers untying his sweatpants before you push your hand inside to feel him up. "So hard, all for me? What a good boy you are, Renjun."

Renjun bites down on his lip, face contorting in pleasure as he feels you feel him up and down, his hips push forward involuntarily. Why do you have to be like this? Why can't you just be- less enticing, less hot, less able to turn his brain to complete mush every time he sees you? Renjun knows where this is going, you're going to give him the best, most amazing, jaw-dropping, eye-rolling, toe-curling head of his life, and then you're going to walk out that door as if there aren't still drops of Renjun's cum trickling down your esophagus.

Just as your hands leave the inside of his pants to pull them down his legs, Renjun grabs ahold of your wrists. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"No," Renjun catches your gaze that holds a whole lot of insecurities in them, or so he assumes. "I am not letting you touch me until I know you won't leave me again."

The look in your eyes tells him that something about this interaction hit a nerve very deep down, so he tries to lighten the mood with a light joke and a careful smile. "At least take me out on a date before you use me."

Jackpot, he realizes, as you scoff and pull your wrists from his grasp. "Alrighty then, what do you want to eat?"

_____

The wideness of his eyes expands exponentially with every word you tell the guy behind the counter of the nearest Subway who prepares your sandwich. He could mouth along your order because, even up until the sauce, it's identical with his. Hence, all he tells the guy once he's finished is "the same". You seem not to notice – or care – and the quick walk back home is quiet despite the tornados of thoughts winding through Renjun's mind. Is this how the app worked? Match people with similar taste in food? Though he doesn't remember putting his Subway order in when submitting his forms.

Arriving at home, you ask Renjun to put on a show to watch while eating, and when he plays his all time favorite, Modern Family, you announce that that's your favorite as well.

Renjun watches, half in awe and half scared for his life, as you practically inhale the foot-long sandwich in front of his eyes, and he feels his heart thumb just a little faster seeing you all domestic like this; not dolled up, and not with his cum dripping from some part of your body, just you being you. Apparently, he likes you more than he likes to admit, he's afraid.

"I think I'm going to delete that app as well," you announce as you wipe the remaining sauce and crumbs from the corners of your mouth.

"How so?"

"I have you now, don't I?" You shrug, placing your plate on the coffee table in front of the couch. Renjun's heart jumps at your words, then sighs and happily sinks deeper into the comfort of his chest.

"Does that mean- I mean-" But he is shushed by your finger pressing against his lips, that makes his eyes widen.

"Shh, baby boy, don't ruin it." You say, then get up.

"Where are you going?"

"Will you calm down? I just want to pee!" You whine, then march off towards his bathroom, and Renjun wants to punch himself in the face for watching you go with a smitten gaze, but he can't help staring. You're just too gorgeous. He loves the way you're so relaxed and funny, sighing lovingly as he admires your beauty coming back from the restroom to sit down next to him with a thud and a weirded out expression on your face.

"Why are you looking like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I just took your virginity in a field of dandelions."

"I am not!"

"Whatever. Can we fuck now?"

The little hearts circling around Renjun's heart – metaphorically – shatter. "Are you being serious?"

"I hate to admit this too, but you're pretty good at what you're doing."

"I am more than just a toy for you to use!" Renjun argues, setting his plate down on the coffee table next to yours. Anger is visibly written all over his face, and you seem to finally get the hint that he's serious about this.

"Alright, then. What do you wanna do instead? Cuddle?!" You suggest, and although it does not seem like this is a legitimate offer, Renjun takes it.

"Yeah, for example!"

And that's how your back ends up pressed to his front as you watch TV, not without a last roll of your eyes, of course, and while Renjun affectionately plays with your hair, he has time to relish in the feeling of being loved for the first time since forever, even if he had to threaten you with deprivation of sex. Later, you even fall asleep in his arms, in his bed, and when he wakes up the next morning, you are snoring soundly besides him.

_____

"Do you want to meet my friends?" Renjun asks casually over the steam evaporating from the hot coffee mugs on the breakfast table. You have half a Baozi in your mouth, and Renjun can only guess your next words as they come out.

"What? Why? Are we getting married?" He assumes you say.

"No, I just thought, you know, since things were getting serious-"

"We are?!" You muffle with wide eyes.

Over the past days that you'd spent at Renjun's place without missing a single day (except for the 4 hours when you went to get your stuff... 4 hours that drove Renjun insane with fear that you wouldn't return), Renjun kind of started to wonder what it is that you're doing for a living that you can just disappear like that without anyone wondering where you are, but he noticed that you do not like to talk much about yourself. All he knows that your interests and taste are, quite frankly, scarily similar to his own. He assumes that you are just careful when it comes to opening up to people, so he is more than thrilled when he finds you next to him every single morning and decides that there will be a time and place for you to bond over deep talk.

"Calm down, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that we've been hanging out a lot and I think it would be... fun?" Renjun suggests carefully. A weight lifts off his heart as your wide eyes shrink back to their normal size and you take your time to chew and swallow before your answer.

"Okay." And then you stuff the other half of the steamed bun into your mouth.

"Great! I'll text them!"

"Today?!"

"We really have to stop talking about this while we eat."

"It's okay, do it whenever, honestly." But only muffled sounds and a few crumbs come out.

"What?"

You roll your eyes dramatically, then point yourself.

"You?"

You nod, then point to Renjun. "Me?"

Then you squiggle your pointer and forefinger in a way that resembles a pair of legs – "go?" – you nod, then point downwards – "here?" – you shake your head – "today?" – you nod frantically and press your pointer finger to your thumb – "okay?"

You finally swallow. "Man, I said it's okay if we go today."

"That was absolutely unnecessary. Now go get ready, I'll text them."

_____

"Where is your other half?"

"Probably inside of someone," Donghyuck says about the lack of Jaemin at the table, but his eyes are intensely focused on you. You on the other hand seem to have found great interest in your fingernails and refuse to take your eyes off of them. "Yo, is she shy or something?"

"I'm not," you say, your eyes snapping up to gaze at Donghyuck who looks a little taken aback. You smile sweetly, then reach over the table to shake his hand. "I'm sorry, I was just a little distracted. Hey, I'm the girl that Renjun fucks."

Renjun chokes on his own spit, and Donghyuck snorts loudly. You lean against the backrest of the McDonald's seat and grab Renjun's hand to hold. Renjun, finally recovered from his near-death-experience, can't believe what's happening as his eyes zone in to where your fingers intertwine with his. It even makes him miss that that was a complete lie since the no-sex-until-i-know-you-won't-leave-thing is still on the table.

"So, how is he? In bed, I mean?" Donghyuck folds his hands beneath his chin and leans forward interestedly.

"Oh, he's great, really! He doesn't look like it, but he has a lot of stamina. And, to be fair, he's not the biggest, but it gets the job done nicely, I especially love it when he-"

"Can we not talk about my dick in a McDonald's?! Please?!"

"Oop, looks like we hit a sore spot-" Donghyuck remarks.

"I am not insecure about- you know what? Fuck you. Go get the food, it's ready," Renjun snaps and pushes the receipt with the pick up number on it into Donghyuck's hand who throws you another knowing look before strolling off to get the food.

"I will not apologize for-"

"You're holding my hand," Renjun states.

"What?" Your eyebrows contort in confusion.

"My hand, you're holding it," Renjun says, lifting both of your hands into your line of sight to prove his point.

"Yeah, so?"

"I like that."

A genuine smile spreads over your face and you bite your lip, maybe to suppress it, but Renjun saw it, and look down at your lap. Donghyuck appears again, tray in hand, and Renjun would've missed your quiet whisper of "he likes that" if his entire world wasn't revolving around you right now.

"What are we talking about?" Donghyuck grins as he slides back onto his seat, immediately pulling a fry out of the box and dunking it in his milkshake. Renjun, still in awe that you're holding his hand, immediately notices how your face contorts in disgust.

"Why the fuck are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Dipping your fry."

Renjun watches with heart-shaped eyes how Donghyuck's mouth opens and closes for a lack of a proper response, because – shit – that is exactly what he's been thinking for the past five years.

"Because I like it?"

"Alright," you shrug, then attend to your cheeseburger. Renjun mirrors your action, lifting the top half of the bun to peel the single slice of pickle off the surface before sticking the burger back together, not noticing how you do the exact same thing until Donghyuck points it out.

"So? That's what it's like when you found a match. Another great advantage is having only one partner whom you engage in sexual activities with. Ah, by the way, how is your itchy sack?"

"Good one, babe," you compliment as Donghyuck's face falls onto his BigMac, and Renjun could not feel any better at that exact moment.

"Sorry I'm late!" The voice of no other than Na Jaemin appears behind Renjun only to reveal said man seconds later as he flops down next to Donghyuck, forcing him to squeeze further against the wall. Donghyuck complains, but no one pays him any mind.

A heavy grin adorns Jaemin's face, an expression Renjun's grown to know like the back of his own hand over the past years. Jaemin's post orgasm glow is so bright and blinding that Renjun's sure he must have just gotten a blowjob in the McDonald's bathroom. His tongue slurps parts of his McFlurry off his spoon. Renjun watches as Jaemin's gaze runs over to you, and as if someone's flipped a switch inside him, Jaemin's smile drops. If the sudden silence wasn't so ear numbing, one would've heard it smash to the ground and shatter into pieces. Even Donghyuck has stopped munching on his food to scan the situation, the end of a fry sticking out from between his lips.

Renjun's heart stops, then starts thumping up his throat as he slowly turns his head towards you, and this exact process repeats itself as he sees how pale you've gotten. Your eyes are trained on Jaemin, and Renjun can see you gulp once before you suddenly get up, the legs of the chair disgustingly scratching over the floor, and leave the fast food restaurant with hurried steps.

Despite desperately wanting to know what the fuck just happened, Renjun hastily gets up to run after you, calling out your name, once, twice, but when he reaches the doors, panting breath creating soft clouds in the cool air, you're out of sight.

_____

Ah, what a great morning. That is what Renjun would have thought if it was opposite day. He is devastated. You are nowhere to be found, the apartment empty since he returned and he still regrets not asking for your number sometime during the past days, though there was no need since you'd spend all your time at his place anyway. But now you're not. You're gone, and Jaemin refuses to let him in on what exactly happened between the two of you that made you leave the place in a hurry, only for Renjun to find Jaemin gone as well as soon as he returned. He only found Donghyuck sitting at the table, dragging his last fry through the milkshake. They finished their meal in silence.

As the doorbell rings, Renjun falls off the couch, scrambles up and runs to answer the door. It's not you, though, it's Donghyuck, who for once decided to be a good friend and check in on Renjun, even though the latter would rather just lie down in a puddle of his own tears, and sob.

"I'm sorry, man," Donghyuck says, dragging Renjun into his arms for comfort. Renjun simply sighs. The warmth of Donghyuck's hug does actually help ease some of the tension in his heart, and when they part, Renjun invites Donghyuck in for some tea.

"Do you know what happened?" Renjun asks as he hands Donghyuck his mug.

"Not a clue. Jaemin hasn't even been home. I have some theories, though." Donghyuck takes a sip and curses after burning his tongue.

"That are?" Renjun is actually relieved to have someone else break their brain over this situation that is not him.

"Number one: Jaemin is her lost brother."

Renjun blinks.

"Number two: Jaemin fucked her mother and destroyed her parent's marriage."

Renjun raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, number three: Jaemin fucked her mother and is her father."

Renjun raises a hand to slap him.

"Okay, okay! Sorry. Number four, and this actually goes two ways. Four point one: They fucked and she is the one girl that broke Jaemin's heart and made him this way."

Renjun does not like the sound of that at all.

"Four point two: They fucked and Jaemin broke her heart and that's why she can't commit."

"I hate all of your theories with my entire being," Renjun admits, "Do you have one that does not mean something bad?"

"Um..." Donghyuck thinks for a while that, admittedly, lasts too long for Renjun to relax, "Jaemin once saved her cat and she never got the chance to thank him because- he fucked her mom- I'M SORRY that's all I can think of."

Renjun sighs. "I don't know. I just wish she would care about me enough to just talk to me, you know?"

"I don't think that's the problem," Donghyuck suggests and Renjun looks away from his steaming mug and at Donghyuck instead. "I think she cares about you a lot, but there seems to be some sort of past trauma that makes it hard for her. I mean, I'm not a specialist since you" – a glaring Donghyuck points an accusing finger at Renjun – "refuse to update me about every little thing like I asked you to, but I don't think this has as much to do with you as you think."

"I've never thought about it that way," Renjun admits, and a little weight drops off his heart at the fact that he is possibly not at fault, and neither are you. "Thank you, Hyuck, honestly."

"No biggie." Donghyuck shrugs with a smug smirk. "You can pay me back in kind."

"What do you mean?"

"A smooch." Donghyuck puckers his lips, but at the same time, the doorbell rings a second time that day, causing Renjun to jump and run towards the obnoxious sound. This time, it really is you.

"Can we talk?" You ask as you stand in his doorway, and Renjun can't do anything but blink in awe because, honestly? He thought he'd never see you again.

"Um, not to be rude, but we're kind of in the middle of something here," Donghyuck says with his lips still puckered for Renjun to kiss. Renjun, without taking his eyes off of you in case you'd vaporize once he looked away for even a split second, ushers Donghyuck to leave since, "he was on his way out, actually."

Not without throwing a little tantrum, Donghyuck lets himself get pushed out of Renjun's apartment. Renjun whispers another 'thank you' and blows him a kiss before closing the door in Donghyuck's face.

_____

"I didn't know you started smoking again," Renjun comments as you sit on his sad excuse of a balcony.

"This is for the vibe," you say, and blow the smoke into the air. "And maybe I had a drink."

"Okay."

Silence.

"This is really scary for me," you admit, and Renjun assumes that you're talking about opening up.

"You can trust me, I'm not going anywhere," Renjun assures, placing a careful arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple.

"Jaemin was my first love."

Renjun gulps. He feels a little part of his heart break off and shatter against his ribcage, leaving a stinging pain behind. Great, so you know Jaemin, and not only that, he happened to be the first one you've ever let into your heart. Renjun assumes that it's been a couple of years since then, but knowing Jaemin, he couldn't possibly be the best first love, or a good one even. Don't get him wrong, he dearly loves Jaemin – in a platonic way – but the way he treats girls is not something he should be as proud of as he is. But maybe he hasn't always been like this. Maybe you were the one to make him like this.

"Go on," Renjun finally coughs out. His hands feel a little shaky, maybe even a little sweaty, and he feels the need to wrap them around the metal railing separating him from free falling to his death.

"It was back in school. I fell for him immediately. He made me feel like the only girl in the world."

Renjun dares to look over at you to watch you sigh, dragging on your cigarette once again. You look incredibly pained, and as much as he wants you to shut up because it seems to be hurting not only him, but you as well, he needs to know.

"Well, that was until he took my virginity. Never saw him again after that until," you pause, clear your throat and take a deep breath and continue pressed with your eyes closed, "until today."

Renjun takes a minute to calm down his mind from running thoughts on overspeed. "I'm- so sorry that happened to you. I wish I could say he's not like that anymore, but... well, his moral compass enhanced a little... um..." Renjun removes his hands from the railing, wiping them on his jeans, then turns to you. "Look, I can see why you wouldn't want to hang out w-"

"No," you interrupt him, dragging on your cigarette once more before carelessly flicking the bud onto the streets below, then you turn to him, take a careful step forward and take his hands into yours. "I trust you. I want you to be the right one. I want you to break this pattern, I want you to change my future."

Renjun does not know how to respond. There's a part of him that wants to pay Jaemin a visit and punch him, but he knows better than to start a physical fight with Na Jaemin, the local gym's best customer. And besides, what would it matter? It's not like violence would change anything. "May I hug you?"

You nod, and Renjun wraps his arms around you to pull you into his chest. His chin rests in the crook of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo, and he is not sure whether it's a good thing that he falls for you more and more every second he spends with you.

_____

Renjun decided that it would be best not to see Jaemin for some time, mostly in favor of his own well being considering that Jaemin would dominate him if it ever came to a physical confrontation. Instead, he focuses his energy on making you feel loved and protected, and makes sure he never gives you the impression of leaving you. He mostly enjoys the quiet nights with you, creating as much physical contact as possible without being uncomfortable, and freely talking into the rise of the sun.

Renjun learned that it's only been you and your mom, most of the time, since your dad cheated on her when you were still a child. Then, as soon as you turned eighteen and got your first real job, your mother left the country. Not without saying goodbye, but apparently, she made it clear that she didn't want to stay in contact. Ever since, it's only been you. You'd always been by yourself, having to care for yourself, working hard to make enough money to be able to afford rent and food. In a way, you had raised yourself to be independent, and your past encounter with Jaemin must have just intensified your bias not to trust men after what your father did to your mother.

Still, that's all Renjun knows about you. And after 3 months of living together, he kind of wishes to know where you live – well, when you're not living with him – what you do for a job, if you have any friends for him to meet, but all he knows is your zodiac sign. Although, he calms himself down by telling himself that you need time to build up trust. After everything that's happened to you, Renjun is the last person wanting to pressure you.

It's only that one particular conversation with his friend Donghyuck he doesn't seem to be able to let go.

"How long have you been living together?" Donghyuck asked as he ripped a small piece off of the bread in his hand to throw it into the pile of ducks gathered in front of them at the pond at the local park. Donghyuck loves to go there to feed the ducks, and Renjun almost found it cute until Donghyuck told him the real reason behind his regular visits to feed the ducks at the pond: picking up girls.

Donghyuck swears that this is the perfect way to get a "chick" (his words, not Renjun's) to fall for you. Either they love this sweet, domestic side of a man who is soft enough to go feed ducks in his spare time which inevitably makes him boyfriend material, or they're there with their kids and- Renjun can't recall how this was different from the first thing. He only remembers thinking that Donghyuck has a weird obsession with older women, and the freudian curiosity in Renjun kind of pushes him to find out more about what that's about. Maybe another time.

"Almost three months," Renjun smiled widely, ready to spill information about all the great memories he had made with you over the past 11 weeks, like when he accidentally sent the pizza delivery guy to the wrong address or when the both of you giggled too loudly at a YouTube video until his downstairs neighbor knocked at his door and begged for you to shut up (admittedly, there's not much going on), but Donghyuck interrupted him with his hand hitting Renjun square in his solar plexus.

"Three months?! Woah, get it champ! How often do you do it?" Donghyuck asked, completely ignoring the way Renjun had to fight not to double over and slide face forward into the pond.

"We-" Renjun coughed and was finally able to stand up straight again. "We actually don't have sex at all."

In hindsight, Renjun's knowledge of physics and anatomy make him doubt the reaction he remembers, but he vividly recalls Donghyuck's eyes to drive out of his skull as he jumped about 3 meters into the air. Summarized: Donghyuck was a little surprised!

"Um, well, I didn't think it would hit you this early, but there are ways, man." Donghyuck patted Renjun's shoulder brotherly. "I still have a few pills at home if you want to try them. I get them from this one guy, and they're worth every penny, let me tell you-"

"I do not suffer from erectile disfunction," Renjun clarified and Donghyuck quickly shut his mouth, blinked a few times, then began to defend himself about how he doesn't need them to get hard, just to stay hard longer or whatever.

"Anyway," Renjun side-eyed Donghyuck as he finally stopped talking, "I just... don't want her to leave me again."

"Ah, that's how the land lies," Donghyuck grinned, "but buddy, it's been months, don't you miss it?"

"Not really," Renjun lied without cause.

"Don't you miss the way it feels?" Donghyuck leaned closer, warm breath tickling Renjun's ear and neck, his voice getting whiney and full of lust as he explained the warm, wet feeling of a-

"Okay, maybe I do!" Renjun said in defeat, holding onto Donghyuck's hands to stop them for making lewd gestures.

"Then there's nothing stopping you. Well, except for the fact that it's very weird how she just lives with you. Doesn't she have a job? Does she pay rent?" Donghyuck frowned at Renjun with raised eyebrows.

Renjun squinted his eyes at him, frowning as well. "Where is this coming from?!"

"I'm just saying, you should ask her about that." Donghyuck shrugged and poured the remaining bread crumbs from his paper bag onto the ground, causing ducks to zoom out of the water and gather around their feet.

"I don't want to pressure her. You know how hard it is for her to open up," Renjun reasoned, but Donghyuck seemed to be having ulterior motives, throwing a wink into the direction of a middle aged woman with a stroller. Renjun watched for a few moments as Donghyuck pressed his tongue into his cheek smugly, then shouted "just gave him some relationship advice while feeding the ducks", and how the woman chuckled and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then decided he's seen enough.

Sadly, turning off one's ears had not been invented yet, Renjun thought as he stepped away after patting disinterested Donghyuck's shoulder as goodbye, still hearing Donghyuck ask her about the child's father, how come such a beautiful woman doesn't have a strong man at her side, and what she's going to be doing tonight.

_____

"Baby?" Renjun enters the living room to find you sitting in front of the couch on the carpet, carelessly browsing through a magazine with your playlist randomly playing tunes in the background.

"Hey!" Your eyes light up as you see him. Renjun sits down beside you, a slight smile on his face as he takes in how beautiful you look tonight, just like all nights.

"What are you up to?" He asks, curiously leaning forward to be able to look at the magazine as well.

"It's just a women's magazine, it's like fashion and make-up trends an stuff," you explain briefly still scanning through the pages before your eyes light up once again as you turn to look at Renjun.

"What?" Renjun chuckles nervously, but simultaneously loving the look on your face.

"Could I.. do your make-up?" You ask straightforwardly. Renjun's eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, mouth shaping an 'o' as he looks up thinking about it briefly. He's never gotten his make-up done before, and although the thought had never occurred to him before, it does sound like a fun couple's activity to do together that could lead to excellent bonding time. Therefore, he smiles and nods at your request.

Renjun coos at how you get up to grab your make-up bag with a slight excited jump in your walk, then watches how you lean down to fish it out of your bag, gulping hard and averting his gaze as you so carelessly present your ass to him. The conversation with Donghyuck still playing in his mind, he realizes that, apart from wanting to know more about you, he really does miss being inside of you physically.

Before he knows it, you're back on the carpet next to him, opening your bag to reveal the endless depths of its contents, various pencils and brushes, tubes and bottles that Renjun knows close to nothing about.

"What do you want me to do?" You ask, and Renjun smiles contently.

"Whatever you want, I'm yours to play with," he confirms before realizing the ambiguous meaning of his words. He still means them, in both ways.

Although, you do not seem to be catching on, shuffling to sit in front of Renjun instead to have a better look at his handsome face. "Your skin is pretty, so let's skip foundation," you decide and Renjun's smile grows at the implied compliment. Instead, you brush his messy bangs out of his face to be able to get a better look at his eyes.

"Can I do your eyeliner?" You ask, gazing deeply into his eyes, and honestly, you could've asked him to jump out of the window and he'd respond with the same breathy 'yes' he did just now. Especially now after you've climbed into his lap for better access.

"Okay," you giggle, now a black pencil in your hand, "look up!"

Renjun does his best to follow your orders, but the eyeliner feels very foreign on his eyes, and as you ask him to look down next, he is met with your cleavage greeting him, and he has to concentrate on not popping a boner instead.

After a while, you lean back, admiring your work as Renjun blinks a few tears away.

"You look pretty," you admit, handing Renjun a little mirror to see for himself. And as he catches his own reflection, he must admit that you're right. He does look pretty, but honestly, he could've looked like trash right now and he'd still do this over and over again just to be close to you.

"Thank you, I agree!" He smiles, handing you the mirror back.

"How about lipstick next?" You suggest and Renjun's eyes immediately dart down to your lips, remembering the last time his own lips touched them for longer than a quick peck, and longing for that feeling. So instead of answering, he nods, trying his best to conceal his nervousness.

A lipstick in hand, you get comfortable on his lap again, seemingly either ignoring or not caring what your shuffling does to him, then attend to his lips. Renjun's now able to watch your face closely as you apply the tinted product onto his lips, falling in love with the way you look when you concentrate on something.

Your gentle fingers tap the lipstick onto his lips, spreading the color gently to create a faded look, but Renjun doesn't really care anymore. His eyes keep focussing on your lips, yearning to taste them again, and he feels like it's showing with the way he keeps leaning in closer.

His heart skips a beat as he looks up into your eyes again to see them already looking into his, and he doesn't even have to say anything before you close the gap in between your mouths and begin kissing him gently, leaving one, two, three kisses on his lips before drawing back to look into his eyes again.

No words are exchanged, it's just him who leans in this time, breathing in deeply through his nose as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. He completely loses himself in you and the slow song playing in the background. Your lips feel heavenly, and Renjun admits that it's really been too long since the last time he got to taste them.

Your hands stroke over his body just as his do to yours, gentle moans fall from both of your lips as you carefully grind down against Renjun's prominent bulge. It doesn't take long for him to turn you around, gently laying you on your back to the soft carpet, caging you in with his arms and deeply gazing into your eyes. You strip each other of every piece of clothing, taking your sweet time to show the other how you feel, and as Renjun finally enters you, he feels like this is where he belongs.

_____

"Hyuck, I'm telling you, it was absolutely fantastic," Renjun beams, hands in the air metaphorically mimicking a large object to visualize how much fun he's had with you the night prior.

"I'm guessing the rule of premarital abstinence is off the table?" Donghyuck teases, face mockingly serious, though a brow sneaks its way upwards to hint at his playfulness. Renjun presses his lips together, hands sinking to the table.

"You are just jealous that woman in the park only wanted you to be her new babysitter," Renjun shoots back.

"That's what her mouth said, but do you know what her body said to me about thirty minutes later as I rammed my dick in her?" Donghyuck crosses his arms, pressing his tongue into his cheek smugly, and Renjun just stares blankly ahead, right through Donghyuck's insufferable ego as if it was see-through and not as solid as concrete. Donghyuck leans forwards, forearms holding his weight hovering over the tabletop.

"Ah, fuck, you're so big, Donghyuck. Please, d-don't tell my husband. H-he really can't find out that you're making m-me feel so much better than him, ugh, God, I wish you were the father of my children," Donghyuck moans, high pitched and fake like a porn star, and Renjun snorts, laughter that threatened to come out winning the battle against his muscles, and he's sure he spit on Donghyuck in the process. Payback.

"Sorry," Renjun says and doesn't mean it, "have you talked to your therapist about this 'Mommy'-thing?" Donghyuck sighs and rolls his eyes.

"It's not a 'Mommy'-thing. I don't want them to be my mom, I don't want them to pack me a lunch box and sing me a lullaby," Donghyuck explains.

"Then, what?" The corners of Renjun's mouth twitching downwards, threatening another wave of laughter to burst out with vigor.

"Older ladies know what they want in life. They went through labor and stuff and mostly already found a man, so when they want me, I feel good. Also, they know how to please a guy, you know?" Donghyuck says, and Renjun's eyes are about to pop out from the sole pressure of trying to keep his amusement from spitting Donghyuck in the face again.

"Alright, then, if my love life is so laughable, why don't you give me some insight on how great your girlfriend's cunt squeezes around your dick?" Donghyuck crosses his arms, meaning to sound petty and passive-aggressive, even though Renjun knows that he is eager to hear every little detail.

"Does everything have to be this graphic with you?" Renjun contorts his face in faux disgust, but huffs out a chuckle, not ready to admit that, in all honesty, Donghyuck's words sent him right back to last night when you came around him, milking him for all he's worth.

"It does. Whether you like it or not, this is what you signed up for when you started calling me your friend. Now spill," Donghyuck raises a threatening finger.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable giving out information to fuel your next wanking session with my girlfriend," Renjun notes, but continues to spill the details nonetheless. "So, all in all, very romantic until I was like 5 seconds pre-orgasm and 'Jopping' started playing."

"Did you-"

"I did nut to 'Jopping'."

"I guess you were really jumping and popping," Donghyuck examines, then thinks a little longer, "I guess you were a big boy throwing three stacks."

Renjun looks at him, lips turning into a thin line before he slaps his thighs and gets up. "I think I should go?"

"I guess you really made it bang," Donghyuck says and gets up as well, following Renjun into the hallway with quick footsteps. "I guess you really made the crowd go wild in a small room."

"Stop!" Renjun begs, giggling nevertheless as he slips his jacket on.

"I guess you really got that glow."

"Donghyuck!!" Renjun shrieks, not even fully slipping into his shoes before he grabs his bag and opens the door, Donghyuck behind him clutching his stomach laughing. Though, Renjun gets surprised by someone already standing outside the door, the grin immediately falling off his face as he sees who it is.

"I guess it's in your- " Donghyuck starts, but the second he sees the person in front of the door, his laughter dies down, "... nature."

"Hello, stranger," Renjun says sarcastically, squinting his eyes at Jaemin who simply gulps. It's not like Jaemin to not say anything, or to not smile. Renjun immediately feels a little sorry, but at the same time, he doesn't.

Jaemin simply nods before squeezing in between Renjun and the wooden door frame, kicking his shoes off hastily and hurrying past a flabbergasted Donghyuck towards his room. Renjun's eyes follow him disappear, and when he hears the door to Jaemin's room close shut, he feels reminded of how things really started going downwards as soon as you crossed paths with Jaemin again. Of course it bothers him knowing one of his best bros 1) had his dick in Renjun's girlfriend and 2) broke her heart and scarred her for life. What bothers him almost more is how things went well, they were okay, but now Jaemin needed to show up again and make Renjun question everything he's built with you.

What if Donghyuck is right? What if it really is weird that you keep staying at his place? Why is there never a place you have to be? Admittedly, Renjun had pushed this uncomfortable feeling of something being off with your stay to the very back of his brain, not wanting to destroy what you have, not wanting to waste his last chance for love because of something as insignificant as 'oh no, my girlfriend won't leave and I also don't want her to', but suppressing worries is never the answer. No matter how far you push them away, they always resurface to bite you in the butt. And sometimes they bite you in the butt in human form with a perfect, pearly-white set of teeth and eyes that seem alarmingly less sparkly than usual.

Renjun decides that he has to get a grip. He's been so blinded by love, or whatever it is right now that's surely developing into love, that he just let you step into his life, ruin one of his dearest friendships and keep eating the contents of his fridge when he's not home. All this, he tells himself on the way home, passing by a group of guys hanging out in the park together drinking. He sighs. Wasn't it always bros before hoes? Pals before gals? Homies before blow-me's? Does that still apply when the homie is in the wrong?

_____

"Darling?" Renjun whispers as he enters your (at this point) shared home. The lights are turned off, your figure nowhere to be found. Renjun sighs, slowly unties his shoe laces, takes his sneakers off and places them by the door carefully. He realizes most of his shoes are carelessly thrown all over the place, and so are yours. After the sixth pair he's carefully put into storage, he realizes what he's doing.

"You stupid gremlin, just ask her. Stop wasting time," Renjun tells himself, finally taking off his jacket and hanging it up.

"Ask me what?"

Renjun swears his soul leaves his body for a good 10 seconds before he can breathe again. Your silhouette stands in the doorway to his bedroom, the light of the lampposts outside shining on your backside, hugging your curves and making you look like an angel. Renjun curses his artistic eye in moments like these.

"You scared the crap out of me," he giggles, a little intimidated and, truthfully, freaked out at the way you just stand there, seemingly faceless because of the darkness.

"Aww, I'm sorry," you say, and approach him, hugging his cool figure into your arms. Hesitantly, Renjun hugs you back. Something inside him tells him that you're hiding something. "Where were you so long?"

Renjun breathes in slowly, then out through his nose. "Just walking around, needed to think." He's telling the truth.

"Are you okay?" You pull back, looking at his face gently illuminated by the moon. Very lightly, Renjun can make out the lines of worry on your face. He lets out a shaky breath.

"We need to talk."

Another layer of clothing lighter, Renjun sits down on the bed next to you, sweatpants and a white shirt replacing his earlier clothes that kept him from freezing in the cool weather of an early October. The expression on your face is unreadable, though you look not happy, but rather full of worry, sadness and a pinch of anger.

"Okay, this... this is not an easy thing to ask," Renjun finally starts, hating the tension that's so thick one could cut it with a knife.

"Please, um-" you stop him before anymore words can leave his mouth, glossed over eyes finding his gaze and the sight makes Renjun's heart ache. Never have you looked so raw, so fragile, so... broken? "Let me say something first, okay?"

Renjun nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth to chew on it. His heart beats fast, the sight of you in front of him almost making him forget why he marched through the streets of this town for hours with no physical goal, but only to make sense of the mess clouding his brain.

"I don't know... what exactly you're going to ask me, but-" you halt and stare downwards into your lap where your shaky hands are nervously fumbling with each other. "Whatever it is, whether you want to break up with me, I just want you to know that-" you gulp, voice shaky, "that I've never felt loved in my life except for when I was with you. You really showed me what love is, Jun. You made me love you. So, um..." you breathe out shakily, two tears rolling down and falling towards your hands as they reach the apples of your cheeks. "Thank you for your time and efforts. You really are the best person I've ever met."

_____

"You are fucking weak!" Donghyuck scolds, a little less playfully than usual.

"You don't get it, Hyuck. You weren't there. The sight would even have broken your sad excuse of a heart," Renjun defends himself.

"Excuse me? Just because my heart has Milf-shaped holes in it doesn't mean I don't feel empathy!" Donghyuck throws in, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Renjun feels a little less confident in his decision of letting you be than a few minutes ago. "What did you ask instead?"

Renjun bites his tongue. Admittedly, a day later, the decision doesn't seem as logical as it did hidden under the secure blankets of a dark night. "I asked if she wanted to meet my parents?"

Donghyuck laughs out, once, and very loud, then turns his body to Renjun and places his hands on the older's thighs. "And let me guess." He raises his eyebrows in amusement. Renjun is not amused. "She was like: 'oh my God, Junnie! Why didn't you just say that?' And playfully slapped your arm, and you somehow ended up with your dick so deep in her you could feel hear stomach acid."

"Ew, what the fuck?" Renjun's eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing, his mouth agape in horror. "Y-you know that's not how the female body works, right?"

"How would I know?" Donghyuck retorts, shrugging.

Renjun groans in frustration, hiding his face in his hands. Donghyuck is right. He shouldn't have let you off the hook so easily. He has the right to know! He deserves to have all the answers to his questions. He is honestly one incident away from making an AITA post on Reddit.

"Hey, hey," Donghyuck gently removes Renjun's hands from his face, letting his hands linger on the older's wrists, "don't beat yourself up, Jun. It's not your fault. If the pussy is tight, the pussy is tight, and there is nothing we can do about it. She's in your head, while you should be in her head – literally."

Renjun rolls his eyes.

"No, for real, though." Donghyuck softly slaps the back of Renjun's birthmarked hand. "Women have a different kind of power over us mortals." He looks deeply into Renjun's eyes. "You really like her, don't you?"

Renjun nods. "I might even use the other L-word."

"Okay, here's the thing," Donghyuck announces, now taking both of Renjun's hands in his, cheesily interlocking their fingers which Renjun chooses to ignore, "meeting your parents is great. I mean, inevitably, they're gonna ask her about her job, won't they?"

A spark of hopeful light appears in Renjun's eyes. "You're right. Thank you, Hyuck."

"Kiss me, then," Donghyuck says and winks. Renjun forcefully pulls his hands from Donghyuck's grip. "In your dreams."

"You don't wanna know what happens in my dreams, my dear Renjun," Donghyuck smirks and Renjun decides that this conversation has to end here.

"How are things with Jaemin?" He therefore asks, leaning back in his chair to create a bigger distance between him and the lecher.

"He's in and out, mostly when he knows I'm not around. I think I'm going to trap him later today when he comes home, and make him tell me what the fuck his problem is," Donghyuck explains matter-of-factly. Renjun admires Donghyuck for his confrontation abilities. Of course, Donghyuck is not as in the middle of all this as Renjun, but he himself would've dreaded running into Jaemin randomly in the hallway, would probably put a tracking device on Jaemin so he can properly avoid him, and – Heaven forbid – would not try to corner him and make him spill. Renjun really hates confrontation, he always has when it comes to people he's close with, that he likes, or rather: that he's afraid of losing, and this is probably one of the reasons why he finds it abnormally hard to tickle the kind of information out of you that he needs to sleep peacefully at night.

Either way, Donghyuck will get Jaemin, and his parents will get you, and Renjun gets all the information he needs without having to put in even an ounce of effort. Slowly, Renjun realizes that this is not that great of a foundation for a good relationship, platonically or romantically. Yeah, admittedly, he feels a bit like a wimp.

_____

Renjun's heart beats up his throat for no apparent reason, except for the fact that he's currently standing in front of his parents' house, having just pressed his finger into the button for the doorbell seconds prior. On his other hand: you, dressed up nicely as if you're trying to impress his parents, inevitably leading to a new hatch of butterflies dancing around in Renjun's stomach. He also quite enjoys the way your palm is a bit sweaty as you cling to his hand, proving that you're nervous, which means that you care. Renjun really likes imagining that you care.

"Son!" Renjun's father opens the door and pulls him into a strong, manly hug, his dad's large palm coming down on his back to knock the air out of him. Seconds later, the hug is over, and Renjun's father examines you.

You smile sweetly, holding his hand out for him to shake. Renjun's dad raises his eyebrows, grins, then shakes your hand aggressively. "Son, I gotta say-"

"Please refrain," Renjun pleads, and pulls you into the house. You both take your shoes off and enter the living room containing Renjun's mom who quickly fluffs out the pillows, then turns to you.

"It's great to meet you," she says, shakes your hand and throws Renjun a wink. Renjun cringes. He really loves his parents – well, his mom first and foremost, but yeah – but they have a disgruntling tendency to embarrass him. His mother, the social butterfly she is, immediately picks up a conversation with you and, to Renjun's upmost joy, you seem thrilled about it, your eyes sparkling as you talk to his mother. It's good, don't get him wrong, but beyond the surface, it's bad. There is a reason Renjun brought you here, well, not that it's the sole reason, but Renjun still needs to find out what it is that you do for a living, and when he gets blinded by this mind-numbing feeling of being absolutely in love with the way you get along with his mother, the dearest woman in his life, he will forget about it.

Hence, he excuses himself to see his father in the kitchen, preparing the food. Not that any of you or his mother would even notice his absence as Renjun's mom is already on her way to the shelf in the corner to pull out photo albums containing Renjun's best and worst memories growing up. But even as he stands in the kitchen, his gaze darts over through the open door to investigate your figure hunched over the printed stages of Renjun's puberty, giggling wholeheartedly over his mother's remarks about all of his friends in the past. His mother has always been good with names and faces.

Even later at the dinner table, Renjun is not able to concentrate one his father's cooking, or the light conversation taking place over the amount of food on the table that could feed an entire baseball team for three weeks. There is only one single thing on Renjun's mind: what is it that you are hiding?

Thankfully – might it be the telekinetic bond he has with his mother or just simple human interest – Renjun's mom, after a minute of silent munching, pipes up and throws the question into the room.

"Our Renjun worked hard to be a freelancer," she chuckles and briefly touches Renjun's forearm resting beside his plate, causing Renjun's ears to pipe up and his eyes to widen. "What is it that you do for a living?"

Renjun feels as if time stops, presumably because it does take you a little while to answer. You visibly gulp at the question, eyes avoiding every person at the table. "Well," you begin, then look up at everyone. You blink a few times and wet your lips before continuing. "I recently lost my job and am looking for something else at the moment." Your gaze catches Renjun's who can't hide his surprise. "Which is why I am extremely grateful for Renjun being there for me right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Renjun's mom comforts, a sad look on her face.

"It's okay. I mean- the firm had to ax jobs because of insolvency, so there wasn't really anything I could do about it." You nod to yourself. The following awkwardness lies heavily in the air, and before Renjun's father can even think about bringing alcohol to the table, his mother pipes up once again.

"Don't worry about it, dear. You are still young, there will be lots of job opportunities in the future, I'm sure of it," she smiles encouragingly and you manage to send a slight smile back. "Which reminds me!"

This time, Renjun's mom playfully pinches her husband's shoulder who dramatically mewls at the action. "We were just your age when we met!"

"Oh, really?" You smile widely, interested in the story Renjun's mom tells next, going into almost every detail regarding their first encounter. Renjun, having listened to this exact story countless times, relaxes in his seat. He feels a bit bad that he basically forced you to reveal this probably embarrassing detail about yourself in front of his parents the first time you meet them, but a much bigger part of him is just relieved since, basically, this explains it all. Maybe he should feel a bit used, a bit hurt that you didn't trust him enough to share this detail of your life with him, but on the other hand: he is just glad you're not secretly a serial killer or do porn. Not that there's anything wrong with that, he'd just like to know.

In the midst of his mom's speech, he catches your eyes and sends you a gentle smile which you reciprocate. His hand gently squeezes your thigh under the table, and he is pleasantly surprised as your hand finds his, casually interlocking your fingers with his and putting them on display on the table top.

"Well, good thing you met him before the year ended," Renjun's mother finishes. Renjun's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Why would she bring that up?

"Why? What's happening at the end of the year?" You ask curiously.

"Christmas!" Renjun says, a bit too loud maybe, since all eyes are on him all of a sudden. "You know, cuffin' season. Heh..."

The day ends pleasantly. Renjun has to fight both of his parents off as they try to make you stay over night or "at least for another shot". Oh no, he has to get you home and, to be completely honest, right into his bed, or preferably the closest surface to the front door that you're willing to take him on. Not even the little remark his mother had whispered to him as he was waiting by the door for you to finish up in the bathroom can make him want you any less right now: "I'm so sure I know her from somewhere."

_____

Days pass and Renjun is on cloud nine. Things are going absolutely great with you, you do fun stuff together, and Renjun can have his little daddy moments every once in a while when you ask him to help you with your job search. He feels giddy all over when he goes to bed, and possibly even giddier when he wakes up to you soundly snoring in his arms. Life is perfect.

But Renjun wouldn't be Renjun if he didn't worry about something, and this time it is the last obstacle to overcome for this to be the absolute perfect relationship: you have to vibe with his friends. Well, first of all, he himself has to start vibing with all of his friends again. He has not seen or heard of Jaemin since he met him that day, and Donghyuck had either forgotten to corner the younger male, or forgotten to tell Renjun about it (classic Donghyuck).

Hence, Renjun calls Donghyuck (so he can't forget to respond to his messages) and makes a plan to meet. Said meeting actually occurs on the same day since Donghyuck feared Jaemin would flee the country if they didn't hurry.

About an hour later – and don't ask him how he convinced you to do this (he might have been using the short post-orgasm timeframe to suggest it when your mind was still cloudy and you were grinning like you were out of your mind) – you appear in front of Donghyuck and Jaemin's apartment.

Before Renjun can even reach out to ring the doorbell, Donghyuck rips open the door, shushes the both of you and hurries you inside. Shoes off, you all meet at the stinky kitchen table and Renjun is reminded of his first encounter with you that he had spilled about at this very table. He finds it a funny little memory.

"Jaemin is in his room," Donghyuck whispers and Renjun can smell the garlic fried chicken he must have had earlier in his breath.

"You didn't tell him we were coming?" Renjun whisper-shouts back and purposely avoids looking at you because he already knows of the disapproving stare the back of his head is receiving right now.

"One: he just had a girl over, and even though I seem like the type to barge into a room that reeks of sex to witness Jaemin balls deep in a chick, I've seen enough of that. Two: if I had told him, he would've possibly taken off no questions asked," Donghyuck reasons and Renjun has to, once again, question why Donghyuck always has to verbally visualize all the tmi details of his speech. Renjun turns to look at you, and you look unsure. Although you had voiced your concerns on the way here, and Renjun had to make you promise not to bail on him, he gets where you're coming from.

Taking you aside (turning around since Donghyuck is openly swiping on his tinder right now that Renjun knows he hasn't set an age limit to) he asks, "Are you okay with this?"

You take a deep breath before nodding. "I want to do this for you, Jun."

Renjun has to ask himself when he started to connect the feeling of love with the desire for sex because why is the first though that comes to mind to bend you over the sticky counter and have his balls slap against your thighs? On that note, he also should stop hanging out with Donghyuck so much if this is how his mind describes sex...

Instead, he presses a kiss to your lips, and apparently Donghyuck's forgotten about his rule of being quiet because he 'ooohh's and laughs dirtily. Renjun simply pays him no mind, unlike you who raises a questioning eyebrow.

"I say I go in first, prepare him for what's to come, and then get him out here so we can all talk," Renjun suggests and everyone nods in agreement. "And Donghyuck-"

"Hm?"

"Leave my girlfriend alone while I'm gone." Renjun squints at Donghyuck.

"I'll try my best." Donghyuck winks at him before brushing his tongue over his front teeth and then biting the air in your direction. Renjun cringes.

"I can defend myself, don't you worry," you confirm with a smile and Renjun wants to kiss the floor you're walking on. Well, maybe not this floor since he is sure that ketchup stain by the fridge has been there since they moved in and got McDonald's on the first night.

"Oh, you know martial arts?" Donghyuck questions with raised eyebrows and great interest.

"No, but I can aim for your balls!" You explain, nodding excitedly.

"Be careful, he might enjoy that," Renjun comments before leaving towards Jaemin's room. He can hear Donghyuck silently arguing his statement in the background before promising you that he would not enjoy that, even though everyone present knows that's a lie. Renjun giggles one last time before turning the corner and stepping into the narrow hallway leading to Donghyuck's and Jaemin's bedrooms while wishing they would open a window every once in a while.

The few steps to Jaemin's door seem endless, especially as Renjun walks past Donghyuck's room that he had forgotten to close the door to, greeting Renjun with the pleasant sight of a fleshlight. Renjun whines quietly, but realizes nonetheless that he is happy to be Donghyuck's friend. He might be disgusting, but it's actually kind of funny.

So, without proper preparation of what to say, Renjun arrives at Jaemin's door. His hand hesitates in front of the "alpha male", "gym bro" and "Fortnite" stickers on Jaemin's door before he actually manages to knock.

The second Jaemin takes to offer him to enter stretches like gum.

"Did you forget something, bunny?" Jaemin asks as soon as the door opens. Renjun is greeted with the sight of Jaemin's massive back facing him as he sits at his desk, an online poker game decorating the large screen in front of him.

Given the nickname, Renjun doubts that Jaemin has any clue that it's him in his room right now. He tries to think of a cocky answer, but he has never been the spontaneous type, so all that comes out is "call me bunny one more time and i might kiss you" and Renjun has no idea where that came from. Still, it does the job of making Jaemin spin around in his chair, eyes wide in shock as he sees Renjun (and not bunny) stand in the doorway.

It's been a while since Renjun's seen Jaemin, and that might be one of the reasons why he finds himself staring at the younger's chest muscles for a bit too long for it to be a coincidence.

Once he's managed to peel his eyes off of Jaemin's nude upper body (he is glad he's wearing boxer shorts, at least) he aims to say something again since Jaemin's sure taking a long time to respond.

"Good day, sir," Renjun says and frowns at how awkward he is. Finally, a chuckle escapes Jaemin. Renjun also isn't sure why he's being so nice to Jaemin. Last time he checked, he was furious and wanted Jaemin to suffer a pussy-less summer. Maybe it's because everything else is perfect right now, and he doesn't have it in him to feel angry anymore.

"Hello, Jun," Jaemin finally says before getting up and wrapping his meaty arms around Renjun who experiences a weird mixture of relief, a spark of arousal, and the feeling of being crushed to death, so he just gently pads Jaemin's body in return. When Jaemin finally lets go of him, holding him by his shoulders and gently shaking him, Renjun reminds himself of all the disgusting things in this room alone so he can stop finding his best friend hot (namely: the dead cactus by the dirty window, the trash can that's spilling over with used tissues and condom wrappers, the countless empty bottles scattered around the place, most of which still containing an unnaturally colored fluid and some of which sporting little white clumps, the pin-up-girl-posters, the old gym socks all over the floor that he can smell from here, and the thick layer of dust on- basically everything Jaemin doesn't touch every day). It helps.

Jaemin steps back, opens a window and lights a cigarette.

"So, uh," Renjun starts, "don't freak out."

Jaemin nods and smiles.

"But I'm here with," Renjun halts to force down a smile and fail, "with my girlfriend. And don't feel pressured right now! It's all good. But we.. we came to talk things out."

Jaemin is not smiling anymore, but nods nonetheless. Renjun feels a bit bad, a bit selfish, even.

"Would you, uh-" Renjun scratches the back of his head before stepping towards the window as well because the distance is making him feel a lot more awkward "Would you mind telling me what happened? Back then?"

"She didn't tell you?" Jaemin questions, and Renjun is trying his best to decipher how Jaemin is feeling right now. Is he upset? Does he care?

"She did, but... I wanted to hear your side of the story. You're my best friend, after all," Renjun admits, eyes wandering around the room awkwardly before looking at Jaemin again. He is a bit glad his fingers find an old gum wrapper on the window sill to fiddle with. "I know it probably didn't feel like that for you in the past weeks. I'm sorry. It should've been bros before hoes but-"

"I know, you're a hopeless romantic, Jun," Jaemin reasons, "no need to apologize. I guess I just didn't like getting confronted with my ugly past."

"I get that," Renjun says and smiles slightly. Next thing he knows, Jaemin's pressing a kiss to his forehead. Renjun turns beet red within seconds. "Stop it, idiot, I have a girlfriend."

Jaemin laughs loudly. "What, am I your gay awakening?"

"You know very well who my gay awakening was." Renjun thinks back to his high school days, especially that one kid, tall, handsome, loud and a little stupid. Oh, meow, his first love.

Jaemin ruffles his hair. "So, my side of the story, huh?" He leans on his forearms and looks out the window, blowing the smoke into the cold air. Renjun, already shivering a little, wonders how Jaemin's not dying from the cold right now. "There is not much to it, really. I was a horny teenager, she was a pretty girl. It was not cool of me to just – y'know – hit and run. I have learned since then. Girls know what they get themselves into when they hop into my bed, I make it very clear."

"Very noble of you," Renjun says, and he hopes it doesn't sound sarcastic to Jaemin's ears. This might not be Renjun's preferred lifestyle, but to each their own, who is he to judge? "I'm just hoping this won't stand between us."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't fuck your girlfriend again," Jaemin promises, snapping the bud of the cigarette out the window.

"Not what I meant-" Renjun says, but is honestly a bit relieved to hear that. Well, he's pretty sure you wouldn't cheat on him, and he knows that Jaemin has about 200 other options just off the top of his head, but it still feels nice to be reassured. "So, are we good?"

"We are so good," Jaemin announces with a grin, pulling Renjun into another rib-cracking hug. This time, Renjun actually manages to hug him back. He loves Jaemin dearly (platonically), even though he's a real pig at times. Renjun daydreams a bit more about how much he loves his friends before Jaemin detaches himself from Renjun to announce that they should probably head out so he can apologize to the real victim of all of this. Renjun swears he's going to twist Jaemin's nipples until they fall off if he goes out there to meet you without putting a shirt on first. Jaemin laughs, slaps Renjun's back so hard the air gets knocked out of his lungs, then complies and slips into the next best sweater.

Renjun sighs as he realizes the writings on it. Better than nothing, he guesses.

He isn't really surprised as they enter the kitchen to find Donghyuck flexing his very little gain of biceps in front of you and you booing at him with your thumb pointing downwards. Once you notice Jaemin, Renjun notices how you tense up a bit, and he immediately comes rushing to your side to feel you slightly relax with his arm around your shoulder.

"Long time no see-" Donghyuck squints at the lettering on Jaemin's sweater, "orgasm donor."

"Might have not seen you, but I definitely smelled those stinkers you leave in the bathroom for me to find," Jaemin responds. Renjun is a bit surprised to find that this whole situation must have affected Jaemin enough to not even interact with his platonic soulmate in the slightest.

"You make it sound like I don't flush," Donghyuck mumbles, but it goes unnoticed since Jaemin has now turned to you.

"I want to apologize, which I should've done way sooner," Jaemin starts, and the tension in the air is scaring Renjun a bit. "I was young and a total dick, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry."

No one says anything, not even Donghyuck, who has an opinion or at least a thought on everything. It is quiet for a good while, and Renjun fears that you are not ready to forgive Jaemin, which, in all honesty, is fair, given you've lived with the trauma he gave you for years now. Renjun has tried fairly often since he found out what you went through, but he can't imagine how he would've reacted (and lived on) if his first love (who took his v-card) just left without saying anything. (He had to move to fulfill his dream of becoming an idol a year later, sadly, but they're still in touch, on and off. This also makes his encounter with you on the living room floor the other night a bit ironic, but that is besides the point right now.)

Finally, you breathe in. The anxiety in Jaemin's eyes tightens. Everyone is holding their breath.

"I forgive you." You reach out and shake Jaemin's hand. Hell breaks loose in Renjun's chest because, wow, what did he do in his past life to deserve such luck. He is so happy, he smooches your cheek. You giggle, Jaemin smiles and Donghyuck hollers in the background. This little party goes on for a moment before the atmosphere relaxes again. Donghyuck pipes up again to fill the silent moment with an unnecessary comment, "is it just me or does this situation call for a gang bang?"

"Donghyuck, I swear to God, I am going to stuff you head first into Jaemin's nut-napkin-trash can and send a picture of it to your mom," Renjun hisses, but Donghyuck seems unfazed.

"Nothing she hasn't seen before." He shrugs. Renjun decides not to question it.

_____

Renjun's life is so wonderful, he wishes someone would write a story about it. With him by your side, you actually managed to get a job which occupies you half of every other day. Although, you still live with Renjun, which he doesn't mind at all. He loves having you come home to a freshly cooked dinner, to then snuggle on the couch until you either fall asleep or start diddling.

Renjun likes when it's the second option, just like tonight, where he's seated on the floor in front of the couch with your legs draped over his shoulders as he eats you out slowly and softly. Your gentle gasps are music to his ears, the prime time movie playing in the background long forgotten and tuned out as his attention is fully on you.

The slight tugs on his hair make his stomach churn with desire, hands and mouth suddenly too eager to keep his teasing manner up as he moves up to kiss you instead. You giggle into the kiss at his fiery passion, suggesting to take things to the bedroom instead.

Renjun does not need to be told twice as he pulls you against him, making you chuckle even more, and moves you to the bedroom.

Your back hits the mattress with a soft thud as you smile excitedly at Renjun who comes climbing over your body to be at eye level with you again. His hands find your hips, caressing their way upwards while pushing the silky fabric of your shirt up in the process, allowing your braless chest to meet his hungry eyes. The rest of your clothing follows suit, Renjun feeling the flame of lust relight once again as his bare skin touches yours.

"Can we try something tonight?" You suddenly whisper, gaze trained on Renjun's face waiting impatiently for his answer. With his mouth slightly agape, he nods. His eyes jump to where your hand is suddenly touching his, following as you move it upwards to your neck, gently wrapping his smooth fingers around it and applying pressure.

Renjun gulps in awe.

"Press here when you push in," you say, eyelids fluttering as you mimic the action with your fingers against his. Renjun nods carefully, pupils blown probably as wide as yours with lust and desire, heart pounding in his chest as if it was the first time all over again. He will always feel like this around you.

Finding your entrance, Renjun coats his tip with your essence, teasing your awaiting body for another moment or so until his tip catches at your hole. He remembers your words, the grip of his fingers tightening around your throat as he slowly pushes forward, length sinking in slowly.

He's not even all the way in and he can already feel you clench around him, walls hugging him as if they're afraid of letting him go, hole almost fluttering at the feeling of being choked. All that paired with how heavenly you look wrapped up in ecstasy, pretty moans flowing freely only impacted by the way Renjun restricts the flow of air into your lungs and of blood into your brain.

Renjun loves you. He is so deeply in love with you he feels like he could laugh and cry simultaneously, stomach tickling with the all too familiar butterflies every time you look at him. He can't ever get enough of you, he needs you close to him. Never is he going to let you go. He will fight for you, whatever that might mean.

"I'm so in love with you," Renjun can't hold back saying, gently gaze caressing you lovingly. The slow pace he sets makes both of you see stars, length dragging along your walls perfectly to bring you to your shared high.

And it's probably this what makes it sting 100 times more the next morning. You were up early to go to work, kissing Renjun's forehead goodbye as he was still idling sleepily in bed. His mind is still groggy when he peels himself off the sheets and picks up his phone for the first time that day, weak hands struggling to remove the charger. Although, all sleepiness is wiped from his body the second he looks at the screen.

The pretty lock screen picture he has showing you during golden hour is hidden behind a bunch of messages that came in over night. But Renjun is not interested in the four messages he had gotten from Donghyuck ("TW: dickpic", a photo, "can i send it like this or does the slit look off to you??" and "or is it just me?????") or the Instagram reel Jaemin sent to the group chat with the message "me when i was in renjun's gf ha haaa" and Donghyuck responding with "clean".

What makes Renjun's heart drop, beat 20 times its usual speed and then drop again is the following E-Mail notification:

Dear Renjun Huang,

we feel the need to inform you that during our yearly check-ups, we noticed that there has been an incident with your account. Unfortunately, it seems like there has been a mistake made on the company's side regarding your profile.

It seems that someone has hacked into our system, gotten to your private information and pretended to be your Soulmatch™.

We dearly apologize for this mistake. To protect your safety, we have now deleted your account and all private information regarding your person. Please get in touch with us if you want to press charges against the intruder.

Of course, we will pay back the amount you have spent on our Premium Love Package immediately.

Again, our deepest apologies.

Sincerely,

The Soulmatch™ Team

Renjun is not sure how to react to this. Immediately, he checks the app, but he is logged out already. He tries to log in, but his profile is nowhere to be found.

Putting his phone down, he falls onto his back. His mind is racing with thoughts, but they do not seem to make any sense. Someone pretended to be his soulmate? He has never gotten any matches except-

Except you.

Was this... all a hoax? Were you not his soulmate? Have you been lying to him all this time? Why? What does this even mean? How did you do it? And most importantly, what is he going to do now?

Before he knows it, tears start pooling in his eyes, and soon after they drip hotly down his cheeks.

You lied to him.

Have you just used him all this time? Is everything a lie? Do you even love him back? Where did the lies begin? Does he even know who you are? Is this why you've been so secretive about every single detail of your life? Because everything is just made up?

And he just let you. He put up with all of it because he is a pathetic romantic who believes in soulmates. Because he is so desperate to find love. You lied to him with every fibre of your being. And he kissed you. He made love to you. He held you and comforted you. Hell, he even let down his best friend because of you. How could he have been so stupid?

Renjun simply has no words. And he doesn't think he has anything to say to you ever again. He just wants to know why, and how, but he doesn't want to ask you because you're going to lie your way out of it anyway, no?

Shaky legs allow him to get up and walk over into the living room where all your stuff is scattered around.

He is so stupid. He let you live with him. He trusted you without question.

And you used him.

He never wants to see you or any of your stuff ever again, he decides as he kicks against your backpack leaned against the couch, wincing in pain immediately as the contents of the backpack appear to be much more solid than he presumed. His hands grab ahold of his injured foot, causing him to pathetically jump around on one leg until he gives up and falls onto the couch. Wow, he can't even have his dramatic meltdown without being an embarrassing idiot.

The next few hours he spends mostly crying or angrily pacing around. He's thrown all your stuff into a corner and covered it with a blanket so he doesn't need to get reminded of how he's just a pathetic loser every few minutes, although it doesn't help.

He is not sure whether to be upset about the fact that you can't use your phone at work or not, he only knows that by the time 2pm comes around (the time you get off work) he starts to panic.

He is not going to face you. Not now, not like this, preferably not ever. He debates if he should call you, but knowing how easily influenced he is, he'd probably let you lull him in again. No way is he going to face you, nor your voice, nor your texts. All that's left to notify you that Renjun wants you out of his life immediately is a handwritten note to leave while he goes and takes a walk, and hopefully by the time he comes back, you and all your stuff are gone.

Unfortunately, before he can even get a pen and a piece of paper, he hears the keys jiggling as the door is being unlocked. Renjun briefly debates whether jumping out the window would hurt less than this encounter.

"Honey I'm h-" your face comes into view, and Renjun feels his heart beat up his throat. He feels so uncomfortable, so bad, so stupid, so pathetic. "What's wrong?"

Okay, great. It seems to be written all over his face how his morning went.

"Don't you have anything to say to me?" Is all he gets out, cringing at how shaky his voice is, how weak and cracked it sounds after he's dramatically sobbed for a good half of his morning.

"What do you mean?" Your brows contort, and Renjun is glad that he for once does not feel any sexual attraction to you while you're fighting. This was too much.

"Maybe how you lied to me about every single aspect of your life?"

"Huh??"

Renjun wipes his face with one hand. "Didn't know you could hack."

The utter confusion on your face turns into an expression of shock, fear even. "Oh God, oh God."

"That's right, now you remember," Renjun says passive aggressively.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," you say, not meeting Renjun's eyes as you hold your stomach.

"Listen. I'm not going to scream at you. I just want you out. Out of here and out of my life," Renjun says and is surprised at how calm he appears.

"No, no, no, please. I can explain-"

"You can explain all you want, how can I ever believe something you say ever again after all you did was lie? Do you even love me?" Renjun raises his voice against his own better judgement, tears appearing in his eyes once again, but he doesn't let them spill out. He can't give you that kind of satisfaction.

By now, you're kneeling on the floor. The one and a half meters separating you from him feel endless, you're crying restlessly and Renjun doesn't even feel a pinch of empathy for you.

"I do! I love you, please, Renjun, please, you're all I have," you beg.

At this, Renjun feels his heart shatter a little more. Maybe he does have a bit of empathy for you. At the same time, a new wave of anger arises.

"I trusted you. I gave you everything. And you just- you lied. All you did was lie!"

"That's not true! I-" you suddenly crawl over to him and Renjun takes a step back. "I promise. I love you. Maybe the beginning was- fucked up, but everything after that was sincere! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please!"

At this point, the gates of pride can no longer contain Renjun's tears and he breaks down as well, his knees hit the floor in front of you and he begins sobbing. "How could you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," is all you reply, hands reaching out to touch him, and he flinches back, but somehow still lets it happen, lets your arms wrap around him and burry your face in the crook of his neck as you pathetically whimper into the fabric of his shirt.

Renjun follows suit. Of course, he hates you right now, but a very big part of him is in love with you – or rather with the version of you that you made up (???). Not listening to the part of his consciousness screaming at him to stop, he wraps his arms around you as well, crying wholeheartedly against your shaking body.

He has no idea how long you sit there, his legs have gone numb at this point, everything hurts, and then you finally speak up.

"I can explain. It's not good, it's not nice, it's no excuse, but I at least want you to know the truth and not whatever truth you've made up in your head."

Renjun nods. He shouldn't, but he wants you to tell him what really happened.

He also hates that you know him so well.

You somehow find yourselves on the living room floor a few minutes later. Renjun's brought two bottles of water to hydrate after that crying fest out there.

"So, the app," you start, not meeting Renjun's eyes in the slightest. "I used to- work for them."

You take some time to let that sink in. Renjun decides he does not want to respond until the end.

"There was a huge data leakage, and I thought I had it under control, but turns out I didn't, which is why I had to meet you to get you to delete your profile- it's complicated. Or maybe I just made it complicated. But that is why.. you got that weird match. Usually, you can visit that person's profile, but obviously I couldn't have you see it was me because of- our previous encounter, which by the way wasn't planned! It was really just a coincidence!"

Renjun is unsure how this is making him feel.

"Anyway, so I came over. You went to the bathroom and I deleted the app of your phone. Silly me apparently forgot that i had to delete the profile, which is why I came back. I didn't plan for us to hook up again- or whatever. I just needed enough time to delete your profile, which I fucked up. This is already bad enough, but it gets worse."

Renjun does not like where this is going.

"Obviously, I got fired. And you know my situation by now, this was literally all I had. With what I had saved, it lasted me about half a year until I had no money left, I had no idea what to do. I applied for jobs everywhere, but no one was willing to hire me after finding out why I got fired last time. This is where it gets really fucked up. I'm sorry."

Your nervous fiddling makes Renjun believe you, even though he is not sure if he should.

"I- thought that... oh, God, this is so bad."

"Just say it," Renjun says and is not really surprised by how dead inside he sounds.

"Well, I thought that maybe if I like had sex with you again, you'd let me stay with you? I really don't know what the plan was, but... literally you're the only person I knew and... I don't know, I just thought- I guess I didn't think. But then you said you didn't want to have sex anymore, but wanted me to stay anyway- so I... used you... I mean, I still... liked you? Obviously, or else I wouldn't've slept with you.. twice! I mean- God, I'm such a horrible person.."

Renjun doesn't have to say anything to that.

"Well, and then things went so great – except for the Jaemin thing – and for the first time ever, I felt loved? Because I was? Literally, half the time I wished I would've stayed the time we first hooked up so we could have a normal relationship that isn't based on me trying to save my ass and using you... But everything was so beautiful. You made me feel safe, and I pretty much forgot about the app. I really just enjoyed being with you. I enjoyed falling in love with you. Even meeting your parents and friends, how you sorted out the Jaemin thing for me..."

Renjun believes you are genuine.

"That's it... I think.. I just- I'm sorry... I shouldn't have lied to you.. I should've just been honest from the beginning and said I made a mistake or whatever but- I don't know, I didn't. I guess I was scared? I don't know.. But please, I need you to believe me when I say everything after that was real. I love you. I like you, everything about you, and not only because you're kind and offered me a home... basically, no. I like you for you. I love you. Even if you-" you choke up briefly "decide that you don't want to be with me anymore, I just need you to believe me when I say... that I truly love you. I never lied about that, ever. Not once. And I wouldn't in a million years."

"Is that all?" Renjun asks after a minute. You, looking at him for the first time, nod. Before his heart can start beating again, before the butterflies can come back, he needs to remind himself that you used him. You used him and you lied.

"I mean, this is a lot," Renjun starts. You suddenly seem to be unable to look at him anymore. "I feel- actually I don't really know how I feel, but thank you for.. being honest, I hope?"

"I promise."

"I'm going to be honest, I feel... betrayed?"

"Rightfully so."

"I need some time to think about it... Is it.. okay.." Renjun rethinks his decision of asking you beforehand, "I'm going to need to take a walk.. clear my head, make up my mind. I'm not going to ask you to stay, but I'm also not asking you to leave. Do what you will..."

"I understand," you nod, and Renjun gets up. "Wait-"

Renjun halts and turns around to look at you getting up from your place on the carpet. "This might be.. wrong? Toxic? But... can I... if this is the last time I can... if you decide to.. not be with me... can I kiss you one last time?"

Renjun feels his throat close up at your words. Either you're a really, really good liar or you're being honest about your feelings. His breath hitches, his heart performs summersaults in his chest, and his voice trembles, "you can."

Carefully you lean in, slowly pressing your lips against his. There is not much going on, your hands gently hover on his shoulders, barely touching him at all, and your lips just stay still against his. Still, Renjun feels like a thousand silent words and a million hidden emotions clear up as his eyes close to feel you against him. His breath is shaky, he feels himself getting hot as more tears well up behind his closed lids. He really doesn't want to let you go.

As you part from him, his lips chase you for a split second before he realizes what he's doing. "I should get going."

"Be safe." You nod again and Renjun hears the threatening tears in your voice. God, how badly he wants to believe you.

'I love you, I love you!', his heart screams at him to scream at you, but he doesn't. Instead, he steps out of the room, grabs his keys, slips into his shoes and jacket, and heads out without looking back.

The cold air hits his face. Yet, unlike in the movies, he still doesn't feel any clearer. He still feels used and betrayed, he still feels like shit, but he knows he loves you. But is that enough of a reason to forgive you?

He tries to be logical, debate his options, but he can't focus. All that swirls around his brain is how your lips felt on his, and he wonders if kissing you was a mistake. This stupid, romantic mind of his...

Inevitably, after walking around the neighborhood for a good hour, thinking of nothing and everything, he decides that maybe he still isn't in the right mind to make a decision on his own. But who is he going to ask? Fucknut #1 and Serial-Fucker #2? Definitely not.

Therefore, he is glad his mother answers the phone after the second ring. Immediately, she knows something is up, and Renjun repeats the things you have told him (with less sexual details, as to be expected) to his mother who listens patiently.

Except for a "that's where I know her from!" and a short explanation how she saw a picture of you amongst your colleagues when she read that article about the love app, she just listens. Maybe he should've asked her about it back then, about the article. Maybe none of this would have happened. But then, he wouldn't have you in his life.

When he is done and asks for advice, she appears calm.

"Oh, Junnie. Love can be a funny thing. See, when I met your father, it wasn't easy either. Both of our families were against us, our lives were so different from each other, and still, there was so much connecting us that it had to be fate. I know it's hard to trust after something like this, I can only imagine what you're feeling right now, but you're a smart kid, you'll know what's right."

"But what would you do? What do you think?" Renjun asks.

His mother sighs and chuckles slightly. "Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic like you are, but... people make mistakes, Junnie. The universe brought you together so many times, I think it's fate. I don't know if you should forgive her, but I know I would."

"You would? You don't think I'm crazy? You don't think I'm letting her walk all over me?"

"Not that this should matter, but you haven't been completely honest with her either if I remember correctly?" His mom reminds him, and Renjun suddenly feels a bit lighter.

"The psychic," he mumbles.

"That's right. She told you you were going to be alone forever if you didn't meet someone by the end of this year, and that's the reason you signed up for that app in the first place. And a part of me believes that that's the reason why you even let her stay with you, why you were so willing to ignore all signs that something was up. Maybe you already knew?" His mother suggests and Renjun doesn't like it one bit how similar they are. Or maybe he does.

"How do you know me so well?" He whines, feeling a bit more confident about letting that kiss linger in his mind for so long.

"I raised you!" She chuckles and Renjun can feel himself smile. He thanks her again before ending the call before turning on his heels to head back home. God, he only hopes you're still there.

______

When Renjun unlocks the door to the apartment, his hands are shaking. It took him a good three attempts to finally get the key into the lock. Admittedly, he is nervous because, well, for obvious reasons, but he also isn't sure if you're still there. Your past of skidaddling when things get serious gives him every right to feel anxious as he listens for any signs of you still being around as he takes of his shoes.

He doesn't dare call out for you, instead he begins searching the place. He's not sure what's going to happen when he finds you since, well, it hasn't been nice of him to just leave you behind, but what was he going to do?!

His search is pointless, he realizes as he steps out of the last room, the bathroom, and you're not there. Honestly, he wasn't really confident that you'd still be there, but he had hope. What raises his eyebrow is that your stuff is still there, no longer cramped into the corner he threw them in a few hours ago, but neatly sorted and packed in case this was really the final day of your stay. But, point is: it's still there. Now why in the world would you head off and go your own way and leave all that behind.

It's then when the door is unlocked once again, your figure slipping in, red and puffy eyes meeting the puzzled Renjun standing in the hallway.

"Y-you're back," you deduct correctly, taking off your shoes and stepping inside.

"Sure am." Renjun isn't sure why he still sounds so pissed when he is here to forgive you. On a second thought, maybe he's too quick with it? Should he really listen to his mom and just- forgive you? Just like that? Oh, he already knows Donghyuck is going to put out a whole speech about how Renjun is "high on pussy" and "not thinking straight". But... he wants to. He wants to forgive you. He wanted to from the very first moment he saw that weird E-Mail. He just couldn't. And now he can... can he?

"I just went out to get your favorite snack from the little store down the street.. I thought it might... make you feel better," you finally reveal why you left the apartment and Renjun's heart jumps. "I dunno, I just- wanted to do something nice regardless of your decision." You nod to yourself.

Renjun just looks at you as you are unable to meet his eyes.

"They didn't have it, so I went to the other store, the one by the subway station, and they actually were out of stock, but I begged the guy to go check if they had some left somewhere," you inform him, shyly looking up at him, "my current state must've convinced him it was urgent." You smile weakly and motion to your face.

Renjun can't keep his strong demeanor up any longer. Two big steps (wow, he has to inform his doctor that his legs must've grown a few centimeters) and he's right in front of you, cupping your cheeks. "I love you," he simply says, your face so confused that you can only stutter a few syllables before Renjun crashes his lips to yours.

And, God, does it feel good. Honestly, he has so much more time to actually think about what you did, and what it means in the future, but he needs you here with him, right now, always and forever. Sure, it's going to take a bit for him to built his trust again, but for now, he doesn't actually care.

"I love you too," you manage to breathe out when Renjun parts from you.

"I realized a few things. And I may have been a bit dramatic? But, well, I also have a confession to make."

_____

Renjun pushed the admittedly tacky (and stereotypical? Renjun did get slight cultural appropriation vibes) curtain aside to slip into the dimly lit room, although once he entered, the aura of the room changed his mind completely. It's not that he had a sense for spirituality, but he has always been deeply interested in the matter, which made him glad his mother suggested to try it out once.

So this was it, Renjun's first Tarot card reading.

The lady had been super nice, Renjun could tell by one single glance she was competent and very able to perform this life changing reading for him.

"What question brings you here today?" She asked, shuffling her deck of cards which Renjun could not take his eyes off.

"Ask about your love life!" His mom urged beside him, giggling like the sunshine she is, and Renjun chuckled quickly before averting his eyes to look at the lady in front of them.

"Just- my future? If there is anything important I should know?" He decided since that would not exclude his mom's interests.

"Very well," the lady nodded and began shuffling the cards quicker, her hands rushing until one card fell out.

"Ah, The Fool," she explained, and Renjun frowned. His mother couldn't contain a chuckle. "Do not worry, dear. This is no description of your self. Instead The Fool can symbolize new beginnings. There is most likely change waiting for you."

Renjun felt his heart beat up his throat in a positive way, making him giddy to find out more. The lady shuffled her cards some more until two cards fell out at the same time.

"Here we have The Ace of Cups, upright, and The Lovers. There appears to be a new relationship waiting for you, a romantic one."

Renjun gently elbowed his mom next to him who seemed as erratic as he was right now.

"Oh dear, The High Priestess in reverse... this new relationship might be full of secrets, which can be good or bad, exciting or dangerous," The lady deducted, and Renjun gulped.

As she started shuffling again, three cards sprang out of the deck immediately, making even Renjun feel the urgency.

"Two of Wands, The Hermit, The Ace Of Pentacles," the lady read out, sounding worried.

"Why? What does it mean?" Renjun asked, worry also evident in his tone.

"Two of Wands might represent the urgency of this. You have to take action soon, or else – here comes The Hermit – you may find loneliness. The Ace of Pentacles shows us the time frame: one year. I get the strong feeling these cards are telling you to hurry finding that love, or you might be alone forever."

_____

"So basically that's why you've been this patient with me?"

"Basically," Renjun responds, feeling a bit bad about it, "I feel like I should've told you sooner?"

"Jun, don't worry. You're not the one who messed up here. If anything, this makes me feel a tiny bit better about how manipulative I've been..." You admit, frowning.

"Well, I'm not the only one calling the shots here," Renjun summarizes, "so I'm asking you: Do you still want to be my girlfriend?"

"Are you joking? I feel like you are," you say, a wide grin spreading over your face.

"Nope, I'm super serious," Renjun chuckles and pokes your shoulder for reasons he is not aware of.

"Wow, and here I was contemplating to offer you anal to make up for it," you joke (?).

Renjun blinks at you, his smile falling into a crooked smirk at the proposal of your kind offering. "I mean... is the offer still on the table?"

"You are such a man," you pinch him, but do not reject the idea.

"What if we did it right now? Right here?" Renjun suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you closer to his body and starts kissing your neck. His tone (hopefully) brings across that he's joking, that you obviously won't do it right now, but not never either, if you're still up for it.

"You'd be the first," you chuckle before kissing Renjun's nose.

"Stop making me hard," he mumbles before attacking you with more kisses. "I know it's only been like a few hours, but I missed you so much. Let's not fight ever again, yeah?"

"I agree," you say and Renjun pulls back to look at you. Maybe this is silly, maybe he forgives too easily, but it just feels right. The look in your eyes is so genuine, as was the offer of doing butt stuff, that Renjun is just pretty much sure that this was this one big thing every relationship has and now it will only get better.

"Or is there anything else you need to tell me," Renjun teases.

"Not a thing, you now know everything there is to know about me, which, admittedly, isn't that much.. do you have a confession to make?"

Renjun thinks for a second. "Well, just this one thing. Remember when we went to Jaemin's to talk things out? He was practically naked when I went in there and I may have stared a bit until I remembered that he is disgusting."

"Oh, word. His chest is super-"

"Hey." Renjun furrows his brows half playfully joking, half dead serious. "I get to say that. You don't."

You mimic zipping your mouth shut, locking it and throwing the key away. Renjun laughs and takes your hand in his to hold. "So, all this talk about anal and Jaemin... why don't we take this to the bedroom?"

"You really won't let this go, huh?" You smirk. "I'd say: what comes around goes around. Whatever you do to my butt, I'll do to yours."

"I believe I have never loved you more than right now," Renjun sighs before kissing you once again, on the mouth this time, and he feels like time stands still and rushes past double it's normal speed. His hands wander over your body, taking everything in, feeling you against him because you are his, once again, finally. Your hands are as excited touching him, and it dawns on Renjun that you're probably not going to make it to the bedroom, which is fine since he owns this entire place anyway (it's a rental, but you get the point).

Both of your clothes are off in no time, leaving Renjun's hands to freely roam over your naked skin, and it feels just as exhilarating as if you'd never had that fight. That stupid, stupid fight, right now, Renjun can't even remember what it was about, but that could partly be because of the lack of blood in his brain. His heavy erection is currently pressed heavenly against your lower stomach as you make out wildly, and Renjun can't even think about the usual foreplay he finds so important as you start rubbing your wetness all over him. He just wants to be in you, be connected to you, feel all of you against and around him, have the both of you desperately grinding and panting against each other.

Although, he feels kind of more dominant today, maybe there is still a very slight aftertaste of your betrayal lingering and he feels the need to show you that he can be in control over you if he wants to, or maybe he just feels extra manly and prideful today after you did everything to prove to him that you want him in your life. He decides that being on top would be enough to satisfy that need, so he gently pushes you back and lays you down on your back.

His tip brushes over your clit and you whine, a sound that is music to Renjun's ears, and when you speak up and practically beg him to just "put it in", who is he to deny you that wish?

Aligning himself with your hole, he gently pushes forward, allowing his tip to disappear between your velvety walls, and he loves how your eyes roll back and you gasp at how good he feels.

"Only the tip and you're already drooling," he observes, biting his lower lip smugly before pulling back out and repeating the action of fucking just the tip into you several times before giving in to your quiet pleas and pushes all the way in.

You choke on your moan at this, eyes glazed over with lust finding Renjun's under eyebrows furrowed by pleasure. Renjun can already feel you pulsating around him and God does that stroke his ego.

Although he decides he could be having more of an effect on you right now, so he places your legs on his shoulders instead of around his waist, and practically folds you in half to open you up for him so he can fill you deeper, so deeply his tip grazes at your cervix. To intensify your pleasure, his fingers come up to rub at your wet clit, three fingers massaging the nub in quick circles, the wetness allowing him to glide over the surface perfectly.

And your body seems to agree. In no time – Renjun's sure he must've set a new record – you announce that you're ready, seconds away from reaching your high, and Renjun thinks twice about letting you taste it. Well, you did kind of fuck up, but fuck it. Renjun loves the look on your face when you cum just too much to deny you it, instead spurring you on by telling you just how good you are for him, what a perfect girl you are and how much he loves having you cum on his cock.

Seconds later, you orgasm, clamping walls choking his dick in the best way possible, the look on your face and the moans sounding from your throat so pretty that Renjun feels like he's fallen in love all over again. When you come down, he praises you and kisses you, never missing an opportunity to tell you just how perfect you are.

"More," you whisper to him, eyelids heavy as your blurred view tries to find Renjun's eyes, and he briefly chuckles before granting your wish.

"Greedy are we?" He sets a faster pace this time, balls slapping against your ass where your wetness had already dripped down and probably seeped into the couch. Renjun feels so good, so happy, so fulfilled, and he is once again reminded why it was the right decision to forgive you. He is such a man, he thinks, and is reminded of a few minutes ago when you said that to him.

"Can you turn around for me, baby?" He asks, suddenly in the mood to watch your ass as he repeatedly disappears into you, and you comply, allowing him to pull out before getting on your hands and knees. Renjun grins seeing your beautiful ass in front of him, he gently slaps it two times before gently pressing on your back to get you to lie down for him again, though this time on your stomach. He enters you again, filling you up perfectly once again, like you were made for each other, and he puts his entire weight on you to be able to still whisper in your ear.

His fingers find your hair, not to pull, just to be there so you feel it, and as he rams himself inside repeatedly, he mumbles the dirtiest things to you, about how well you're taking him, how beautiful you look underneath him and how much he just loves to fuck you. And yes, he even goes into detail (damnit Donghyuck) about how perfectly tight you are for him. A hand sneaks between your body and the couch, fingers quickly finding your clit again and you whine.

"'s so good," you say, voice trembling, "love you s'much."

"I love you too, baby," Renjun responds, grinning ear to ear like a maniac because he just loves this effect he has on you. This might just be a fantasy, but he's sure he's the only one who could ever make you feel this good. And admittedly, even right now when you're not doing much except take it, you make him feel just as good.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum," he grunts, and you whine, cunt clenching around him at the mere prospect of him reaching his high.

"Me too, God," you manage to bring out.

"Where do you want it?" Renjun asks. Although he already knows your answer, he loves hearing you say it.

"I-inside, please," you mewl, arching your back a bit more to give him perfect access, "cu- cumming, cumming, cumming."

And just as you orgasm around him, walls wrapping around Renjun's cock impossibly tight, he follows suit, pressing his hips against your ass to fill you as deeply as possible. He pushes in a few more times to really get it all in there, have all his cum so deep inside you'll still feel it the next day.

"God, fuck, I love you so much," he pants, now a little exhausted as the adrenaline washes off. He pulls out, allowing you to turn around on your back and smile at him. God, he loves seeing you fucked out like this.

"I love you," you reply, then your nose scrunches and Renjun remembers that, when you shoot cum inside someone, it's going to inevitably drip back out, and he doesn't have to ruin his couch any more than he already did.

______

Renjun's arm is draped over your body, cuddling and talking in bed after the intense 4 rounds you just had, and maybe Renjun should've seen it coming, but honestly? How could he? So he jumps as he hears the doorbell ring.

"Who the fuck..." he mumbles as he gets up, puts on some underwear (at least) and stumbles to the door.

"Tell them to come back tomorrow, I'm not done with you," you giggle behind him as you slip into one of Renjun's shirts and a pair of panties you find laying on the floor. Renjun grins and throws you a wink before turning on the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Congratulations!"

"What the fuck are you asshats doing here?" Renjun groans and hides his face in his unoccupied hand. You have stepped over and are now pressing your ear against the speaker to be able to listen as well.

"We heard the news and came to celebrate?" Jaemin says.

"Actually, we didn't know how it went so we brought booze either for celebrating or for condolences. We took a wild guess," Donghyuck adds.

"How do you even-"

"Your mom told me."

"I don't think I appreciate you being involved with my mom..."

"Your words, not mine. Now open up."

"We're not exactly... dressed appropriately," Renjun informs and he can hear Jaemin howl and Donghyuck laugh.

"Let us in, we'll give you 2 minutes," Jaemin says.

"As if I'm going to believe you'd be passing an opportunity to barge in and see my girlfriend in her undies," Renjun says.

"Open up!" Donghyuck pushes.

"We just fucked four times!" You chime in, and Renjun isn't sure why you needed to clarify what didn't need to be clarified. Especially since, except for a few cheers that die down quickly, it's silent for a good 20 seconds until Donghyuck informs you that the old lady living two floors below just came home and most definitely heard that.

"Just let us in," Jaemin shouts right into the speaker and Renjun has to hold it away from his ear to not go deaf.

"Are you okay with this? I'm sure I could make them leave... somehow..."

"Sure! I could take two more," you joke and Renjun squints at you, making you teasingly roll your eyes. "Kidding."

"Okay, give us a few," Renjun says and just hangs up before they can complain. You both run into the bedroom and get changed into relatively acceptable clothing and Renjun has the decency to at least open a window to make the strong smell of sex lighten a bit before he checks in with you again, then opens the door.

Donghyuck and Jaemin's hollers can be heard echoing through the hallways until they finally show up at Renjun's door step.

"Nice work, man," Jaemin compliments as he sees the state of your still slightly tousled hair, and pats Renjun's back. They take off their shoes and let themselves in. While Jaemin stores the alcohol they brought in the fridge, Donghyuck skips into the living room to occupy Renjun's phone charger.

Oh, no. The living room.

Renjun darts after him, holding onto the door frame to not fall from the immense speed of his sprint, but it's too late. Donghyuck is already grinning at the used tissues scattered around the place and Renjun's underwear dangling from the uplight.

"You really are just high on pussy, it seems," Donghyuck teases, clearly hinting at how Renjun forgave you too (?) quickly. "You're not thinking straight. Or too straight..."

"You don't even know the whole story," Renjun defends himself while crossing his arms.

"Don't worry man, I'm not judging. I feel like this is the right thing for you," Donghyuck says and Renjun is surprised at his choice of words... such a... lack of disgusting-ness? Donghyuck even trots over and places a brotherly hand on Renjun's shoulder and gives him a smile.

"Thank you," Renjun says and means it. Donghyuck takes a few steps back, bows, then his eyes lock in on something on the floor.

"I think I'm taking these with me," Donghyuck announces before bending down further and holding up your panties with his forefinger.

"Don't you dare-" Renjun warns, but Donghyuck already started pushing the fabric into his pocket.

"Take it out," you say, suddenly appearing behind Renjun. Donghyuck seems taken aback, especially as you step over and grab his hair. "Give. Them. Back."

You pull hard, only once, and Donghyuck moans, but complies, and Renjun is party impressed and partly enraged.

"Starting without me?" Jaemin grins as he, too, has appeared in the room by now.

"Guys, I think we need some boundaries regarding my girlfriend," Renjun hisses through grit teeth. You agree, finally letting go of Donghyuck's hair who falls to his knees. Jaemin shrugs and sits down on the couch just as Renjun stuffs the used tissues into his pocket.

"What do you say?" You address Donghyuck who whines out a pathetic apology. You grin. "Sorry, this is kind of fun," you whisper to Renjun.

"I mean if you want to, you could talk like that to me every once in a while-" Renjun mumbles back, immediately feeling you cling to his side.

"Yeah?" You bite your lip.

"There was some talk about boundaries?" Jaemin recalls and you back off a bit. "When I can't have it, at least don't rub it in my face- unless you're going to literally rub it in my face-"

"I swear to God-"

704 notes · View notes

seoafin · 8 months ago

Text

everything eats and is eaten

pairing: fushiguro toji x fem!reader warnings/tags: smut, extremely loose prior teacher x student relationship except toji was a bad teacher and nobody respected him that much, background stsg x reader (i guess), cucking (i guess) word count: ~5.7k title from ingydar by adrianne lenker

this is a fic that was commissioned by @stainedglassvariations if you enjoyed the fic please please please take a second to thank them for their generosity and kindness!

You’ll regret this, Toji thinks. Maybe tomorrow, or the next week. Maybe in the far future.

Or maybe you won’t. He never really knows with you.

It’s not like he knows you, really. Not like Ieiri, not like Gojo or Geto. He knows that you faced him with a blade and lost. He knows that you have lived a distinctly miserable life (he is intimately acquainted with misery). He knows that prying teeth is an easier job than getting you to talk about yourself (it is, admittedly, amusing, to see Gojo’s clenched jaw and Geto’s locked, displeased smile when you, once again, tell them that you don’t mind whatever movie they want to watch, as long as they want to, when you shoot down a question about your childhood that you’ve already marked as negligible) (he is half convinced, that everything the three closest to you know about you came from a particularly nosy foray into your personal file, stolen from Yaga’s office when Gojo’s intentions straddled the line between nosy and curiosity).

It’s better like this. He doesn’t need to know you for this.

Your chest heaves, perspiration gathering in places he shouldn’t observe too closely (the junction where your neck meets shoulder, your temple, your thighs). Your expression is somewhat placid as you stare blankly at the ceiling. Who knows what you’re thinking at this moment, as you come down from the shock of your very first orgasm.

A lesser man would be offended. You had been mostly quiet while he had licked and sucked until you came with a keening, choked noise that had his cock swelling in his pants. He had seen teeth digging into your bottom lip as you struggled not to let anything more escape, the inky depths of your eyes before you closed them.

He meets your gaze from where he rests, in between your legs, and lets his tongue run over his lips, wet from your slick. He has half a mind to spend the rest of the night eating you out, to let him show you just how much he can do with his tongue.

You blink, lips pressing together, as you look at him discerningly, as if you’re not sure what to do next. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, and he’s once more reminded of the hardness pressing against the confines of his pants. Shit, it’s been a while hasn’t it?

Toji clears his throat to speak, before you can do something ridiculous like thank him for the orgasm.

“What are you into?”

You stare at him.

He figures now is as good a time as any to ask. It’s a conversation that probably should have come sooner, but you shrugged off your clothes before he could even say a word, and when his gaze had dropped to the mess of scar tissue at your side, you had stared at him blankly.

Then you put your hand on his clothed thigh in an invitation.

He’s never been that good of a man.

“What gets you all hot and bothered? Gets your rocks off?” His voice is husky. Have you ever touched yourself? He wants to ask. A finger idly runs down your inner thigh. You don’t seem to mind.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you say slowly, composure returning.

He quirks an eyebrow. He’s heard what the visiting Kyoto girls have to say about Gojo or Geto, or both. But you’re being truthful. He can feel the steady thrum of your pulse, the honesty telling.

He’s sure there are devout Christian nuns less repressed than you.

“Everyone has something,” Toji replies easily, eyes never leaving yours. He’s long learned one truth of the world: there are some kinky motherfuckers out there. “Handcuffs, bondage—” he grins, the curve of it a little too sharp, “—teacher-student roleplay?”

You refuse to give into his goading, despite the slight curl of your lips. A grimace. “You’ll make me sick,” you reply tonelessly, slightly rising on your elbows. “Take off your shirt already.” You pause. “Please.”

Toji snorts. It’s not a nice sound.

In a single, fluid movement, his shirt is off. Your gaze goes from his chest, his torso, the tent of his jeans. It settles on his chest.

Appreciation, he thinks. This is new.

“I’m not blind,” you say plainly, lips verging on a frown, as if you can read his disbelief. “You’re very attractive.”

He raises an eyebrow, stifling a chortle. “You know how to get a man going, alright.”

And then he lowers himself down, and kisses you.

You’re not used to it, he gathers, but you try anyway. You meet his lips the best you can, let his tongue run over yours, and try not to be overwhelmed despite the fact that this is most likely the most human contact you’ve ever had in your life.

(He’s read your file too.)

Your legs tighten around his waist, the breaths leaving your mouth are a bit more heavier. He’s rewarded when a hand sneaks down to your wet hole and slowly presses a finger into you, and fuck you’re tight, clamping down on his finger like you want him to stay. He’s careful not to imagine too long how tight you’ll feel around his cock when he’s fucking you into your mattress.

Your breath catches as your lips tear apart, teeth making a reappearance in your bottom lip. His thumb circles the swollen nub between your legs, as he adds a second. You moan, body growing pliant, and Toji thinks, right now, as you look up at him, eyes wide eyed and misty, lips swollen, you’d do anything for him.

Instead, he unclips your bra.

It doesn’t take long. You’re almost embarrassingly easy. You come as soon as he finds your lips once more, and sucks on your tongue in a manner reminiscent of how he had you coming all over his mouth. Combined with the curl of his fingers stretching out your walls, and you’re done for, shuddering with a small whimper. Toji likes his women loud, likes his fucking crude and messy, likes it when he can feel the indent of nails pressing into flesh, raking down his biceps, shoulders, chest.

Toji likes—

Your eyes go unclear. For a second you look out of it, until the cognizance returns.

He doesn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t be interested in the usual false platitudes. He settles on: “You’ve got nice tits.”

You stare at him through heavy lidded eyes once more. It’s almost unsettling, the lack of emotion on your face, despite the rise and fall of your chest as you struggle to regain your breath. He’s too old to care, too unbothered to give you anything but a grin in return.

He’s never been with a woman who looks at him the way you do. He doesn’t know what those two loverboys see in you. You’re not exactly what every teenage boy dreams of but he doubts it matters. He’s seen the way they look at you, no matter how odd in the head you seem. No matter how much he tries to forget. Once, he had looked at someone else that same exact way.

You’ve got nice tits and an even nicer, tight pussy. Right. You’re a virgin. He hasn’t taken a virgin since he was fully moonlighting as a gigolo, and even then he preferred not to. Clingy, prone to tears and romanticization. They always wanted him to stay the night, and when he obliged (for the free bed more than anything), it became a day, and then a week. And then it was the constant pleas for updates, the jealousy, as if he cared for anything but the yen they had to spend on him.

Rich widows. That’s where the real fun was.

Your cunt pulses around his fingers in the wake of your second orgasm. His dick is rock hard, too insistent in his pants to focus on anything else. He’s going to have you past tears by the time the night is over. You have no idea what you’ve given him permission to do to you.

Toji brings his fingers to his mouth, licks your wetness from his fingers. He’s not expecting you to ask him to eat your sweet little pussy out again, so he’ll force the words out of you. Make you say ‘please’ real sweetly.

An arm is thrown over your eyes. You’re not sleeping. More like recovering.

“Done for already?”

You look at him blearily. “There’s more?”

“I didn’t do all that prep just to not fuck you,” he replies dryly, easily freeing his cock from his pants. You go still, eyeing his dripping cock with trepidation. “Help a guy out.”

“Right,” you breathe out, like you’re doing him a favor. “Okay.”

In Toji’s opinion you’re already taking the appearance of his dick better than some other girls he’s had. He knows he’s big. Probably not a virgin’s first choice. Not a virgin like you, who’d be more than fine with some fingers, a toy if you’re feeling brave. A good time for the more experienced girls he’s taken, but you look a minute away from the guillotine. He swipes a condom from the nightstand, rips it open, and rolls it down his cock in one smooth movement. You watch him, almost curiously.

“First time seeing a condom?” He can’t resist the urge to poke the hornet’s nest. He’s always been somewhat of an instigator. Just like you.

You shrug. You’d probably never see one, if it were up to those two. Safe sex is never the first thing on a hormonal teenage boy’s mind. Especially when they’ve been blueballed to hell and back. “Pregnancy’s a bitch.”

You give him a look that clearly says: So is fatherhood, apparently.

He almost winces.

“I’m on birth control,” you reply. “You’re clean. Either way, I don’t really care.”

Of course you’re prepared. Gojo and Geto would have a field day with you. He nudges your thighs open, letting the long hard length of him slap against your stomach right above the thatch of hairs at the junction of your thighs. He likes an unwaxed woman.

You stare at it leerily. His dick twitches at the attention, precum spreading everywhere. He’s always liked his women a little mean. “It won’t fit.”

He laughs at that, deep and just as mean. “It’ll fit.”

His thumb roughly catches on your swollen clit, and he’s rewarded with a hitch of your breath, a reflexive roll of your hips at the pressure. The first sign of anxiety crosses your face, teeth biting at your lower lip.

He could reassure you with practiced words, but you wouldn’t appreciate any of it. He wonders what the Gojo brat would do. What words that ever-smiling Geto would reassuringly murmur in your ear if he was the one about to fuck you. They’d hold your hands at the very least. Those two prodigies, gifted at everything, given all they could ever want. Two boys, born to be at the pinnacle, in love with a girl about to be ruined by Zenin trash.

He likes the thought more than he should. Trash like him touching a girl he has no business descrating. Ruining her in ways they can only dream of. You’ll keep this part of him with you forever, despite your feelings towards him. Despite what’ll happen if they find out.

Let them, he thinks. The boy-god can do many things, but this, this is permanent.

Things would be different. If he were a man that loved you.

But that’s something neither he nor you wants. If anything, it’s the one thing he can respect.

Toji lines himself up at your entrance, and without further fanfare, begins to stretch you open.

He almost winces at how tight you are. A virgin through and through. Your eyes are wide, almost comically frozen. Your teeth tears into your lip, drawing blood.

You make a noise in your throat. It sounds like a whimper. It’s muted, like you don’t want to make too much noise. He’ll have to rectify that. He likes noise. But right now your cunt is struggling to fit him, caught between pushing him out and squeezing him in, and all he can think about is how it’s been forever since a pussy felt this good.

“Shit,” he mutters. You’re warm, wet, and tight. He almost wishes he were bare just to feel you even closer. Almost. He could ruin you. Mess you up so well you wouldn’t be able to do anything but take him. It makes him think he hasn’t changed one bit. He’s always liked ruining things. “Gotta go easy on me sweetheart,” you slightly relax as he plays with the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs, “we’ve got all night.”

You make a choked noise, tears springing at your eyes. Fingernails dig into his forearms, and a rush of heat envelopes him. He keeps a steady hand on your scarred side. You don’t notice.

He’s already marked you once. What’s a second time?

A full body shudder wracks you when he fully sheathes himself inside of you. Your eyes are unfocused, glossy, already a little empty headed, and he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet.

“You…”

“All me,” he says. “How’re you feeling?”

A slight frown. “It feels…weird. I feel…” you slightly raise your hips as if to gauge him inside of you, walls pressing tight. The pressure makes his cock ache. A lesser man would’ve blown his load already. He’s got the patience of a saint to be this still while he’s inside your pussy. Your eyebrows furrow. “Full. This is supposed to feel good?”

“That’s the idea,” he replies, looking down at you, the way your chest heaves up and down, swaying. You do have nice tits, for what it matters. Gojo and Geto really are missing out.

Your arms come to close around your chest, blocking his nice view.

So you do get embarrassed. It’s almost cute.

“You can move,” you say pointedly, despite your voice being a whisper. “I’m okay.”

“Wasn’t waiting,” he lies. Well, your funeral.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, moving his hips in a way that has you becoming increasingly flustered. You make a protesting noise, but he’s watching the way his cock sinks into you as he tests you with a shallow roll of his hips.

He’ll have you bouncing on his cock next. Or squirming on his face. So many possibilities.

He begins to thrust in earnest. You cry out as he fucks you, one hand encircling your thigh, the other on your hip, bringing you down on him. The room swells with heat, and every single thrust is accompanied by the sound of his balls slapping into your cunt. You can’t help the noises now. You grow louder and louder with the growing mess forming on the sheets underneath you.

Your hips are struggling to match his thrusts, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of every movement. He’s never known anybody so bad at taking cock. It’d almost be funny if his balls weren’t about to burst. He decides he’ll turn you over on your knees, mount you like a mutt next, as soon as you finish.

“I—” your bottom lip trembles, and Toji wants to bite it. Hard. You almost look like you’re in pain.“It’s—”

You don’t need to say a thing, Toji can feel you squeezing around him. He lifts your leg up, higher, hikes them up on his shoulders. A hand encircles your left ankle, brushing his lips over skin, right before his teeth sink into the fleshy part. You yelp.

“‘Atta girl,” he murmurs as you squirm underneath him, single minded rhythm keeping you pinned underneath him. “Gonna cum on my cock sweetheart?”

Without really thinking about it, he leans down and kisses you. He feels the weak push of your tongue against his. Toji licks the blood from your mouth, and swallows.

You’re gushing around his dick, crying out for anybody and nobody, as your body arches high with the force of it all, the violence of it. A milestone, he thinks. You barely have time to come down from the high before he’s flipping you.

On your knees, a choked squeal tears from your throat as he continues. Hands on your waist, there’s that heat in his abdomen, that tightness. He feels electric. You’re crying now, he can hear you, unsteady breathing peppered with short strangled sobs. Toji should know better. You’re a virgin. You’ve never taken cock before. You used to be his student despite the fact that it didn’t really mean anything. You knew what you were getting into. If anything, he’s going easy on you. This is nothing compared to what Gojo and Geto will do to you when they find out Toji’s cock was anywhere near your cunt.

They’ll tie you up, have their way with you while ingraining the dangers of fucking dangerous men that aren’t them into your body. No condom. Geto looks like he’d be into that kind of freaky shit and more behind that smile of his. Toji almost feels bad for you.

Might as well build up your stamina while you can. He’s practically doing you a favor.

He slightly lifts your hips, pushing into you at an angle that his cock pressing into you, in a spot that makes your toes curl.

“Oh,” you whimper into the pillow. “Again?”

A grin cracks his face despite himself. You always were a funny one. He wishes he could see your face.

Hips pistoning into you at a rhythm far too fast for you to keep up with, it’s not long until you’re trembling again, walls growing tight around him. But all he can think of is how warm and wet your pussy is, how long it’s been since he’s come in something other than his hand. A thought nudges at his head, about how you’re not some fuckin’ fleshlight to be used for his pleasure, he’s supposed to be making you feel good, but he’s too lost, reaching for his release with a vengeance that’ll have you sore for weeks.

Your arms are barely holding on. Toji takes your wrists behind your back, and you nearly fall face first into the bed with nothing but a hiccup. He doesn’t stop. Instead he drives into you at a punishing pace, using your arms to bring you back into him like a ragdoll. Your face barely hovers above the sheets.

“Look at you,” he whistles through his teeth, focused on the small of your back, the sheen of sweat covering your body, “milkin’ my cock like a champ.” Your thighs are wet, slick dropping onto the sheets with every thrust, and he can almost see the frothy white of the rings around his dick had he not been practicing safe sex.

He almost feels at home with the sound and scent of sex in the air. You cum again, and cry out, in alarm or panic, as your body tenses.

“Toji,” you say weakly. It almost sounds like you’re pleading. “Toji.”

It tips him over the edge. After a few more thrusts, he buries himself deep inside you, and his cock twitches with his release. White hot pleasure behind the darkness of his vision. He exhales roughly, shifting his hips to nudge himself deeper inside of your walls. If he had came inside, you would be dripping white. A shame. A good creampie always hits the spot.

He drops your wrists, and you topple on top of the bed, face first, uncaring of the way the pillow smothers you.

Ah, shit.

He’d think you were dead if you weren’t still twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s not a bad sight. Your pussy is swollen and glistening, thighs trembling, and a part of him can’t help but think the sight would look better painted white.

“You alright?” He asks gruffly, reluctantly turning you over. You look disheveled, bruises marking your neck, chest, thighs. Ring of teeth marks around your ankle. Your bruised hips darken with every passing second, turning that scar that runs up your side a dark ugly color.

Now that you’ve been fucked to oblivion, trying to wrangle your thoughts back into something coherent, he can properly observe the mark he left on you years ago without your side eye. You had shrugged at it before, but Toji knows the significance of scars. There’s little that separates a scar from a brand.

Unconsciously, he rubs at the cut at his lips. It burns.

Trash, trash, trash a voice cloaked in venom spits out.

“I’m fine,” your voice is hoarse as you limply observe the ceiling. “I’m fine.” Your gaze slides to him. You tilt your head at him, but your eyes are curious. You know something’s wrong. “Toji?”

First name basis now, he supposes. No more Fushiguro-sensei this, Fushiguro-sensei that. He’ll probably miss it when he’s fisting his cock a week later.

He looks away, picking himself up to the bathroom to rid himself of his uncomfortably full condom.

“So tell me,” he says as he reclines on your bed, tossing you a towel dampened with warm water. You had been lying down, curled into a near fetal position, blankly gazing at the wall. You straighten as you accept it. “Honest. How was it?”

You think about it seriously. “Are you always that rough with virgins?”

Ouch.

“It’s fine.” A ghost of a smile touches your lips. Almost teasing. “I don’t mind rough.” He thinks you don’t quite remember what it means for someone to be gentle either. The thought makes him unsettled.

Your fingers flit to your wrist absently, brushing over where he had been gripping you. Something in his mouth turns bitter. He doesn’t remember what it means to be gentle, but maybe he should’ve tried.

“Thank you for your help,” you add unhelpfully. Unhelpful in the way that you sound sincere in a way that you shouldn’t be.

The two of you go silent. He’s usually somewhat of a decent conversationalist when push comes to shove. He’s also been with enough women to know that a good orgasm can make a woman everything from weepy to sleepy to talkative.

Like always, you throw everything he knows out the window.

“It was good. Better than I thought it’d be.” Very seriously, you tell him, “You’re very good at sex. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you?”

He scoffs, despite the fact that there was once a time he would’ve taken advantage of your offer. His lips curl. “You callin’ me broke?”

“I think you could use the money,” you say without missing a beat, looking him square in the face.

He could always use some money, but no way in hell is he admitting that.

Toji narrows his eyes, swallowing his retort of occupying your mouth with something else than snarky replies. Then he briefly contemplates laying you flat out and making you squeal for that comment. It’s a pretty picture, but he decides against it. If he gets going now, there’s no knowing when he’ll finish.

“Are you going to spend the night?”

He imperceptibly freezes. He hadn’t thought that far into it. The original plan was to give you a couple of O’s and slink out after, but then you started talking. And for what it’s worth, he’s always somewhat enjoyed talking to you. You make an interesting conversation partner. When he can follow along, anyway. (Sometimes, he can’t). Hours have passed. The night is dark outside your windows. Shadows blanket your body. He thinks about it.

Your bed is pretty comfortable. Some expensive ass luxury mattress Gojo bought for you when he found out you were originally sleeping with a blanket on the floor, according to you. In your words (and defense), it was just until you bought a mattress. But then you had gotten rather complacent with the floor. Gojo, offended, had bought you a dog bed in some sort of crass gesture to convey his dismay. (Toji bets he had wanted to get a rise out of you). You took no offense to it, and left it in the corner. Geto intervened. A bed was bought.

A fine, expensive ass, luxury mattress that you would’ve never bought for yourself.

A sharp smile cuts across his face in dry amusement. To think, he’d be the one christening your bed.

Besides, he’ll be gone for a couple of months at the very least when Gojo and Geto find out what he’s done. Before they find out. Maybe it’ll be Okinawa for the year. Yaga is going to bitch a fit when he finds out Toji up and left again. The man’ll have to understand. Toji’s always played fast and loose with death, but you are something he should’ve left alone for his own good. He’s always wanted more than he’s deserved.

Trash, he thinks. He touched something he shouldn’t have. He put his filthy fingers all over you, and you enjoyed it.

They deity-fied the Gojo brat when he was younger. Put him in the finest silks like a doll and obeyed his every whim and pleasure. Gojo had seen him once, when the two of them were child and adult. There was something in his gaze, even back then, that peeved Toji, the beaten dog he used to be. It was a gaze that promised mutual destruction.

He sees it now, more or less. Geto’s done the impossible: civilized the godboy. Despite painting his own pretty picture of respect and deference, Toji knows Geto couldn’t care less about it all.

Once, the two of them would have disgusted him.

He’s never seen any man want anything as much as the two of them want you. They’ll have you, but Toji had you first.

Toji stretches, putting on airs by settling yourself into your bed as if it’s his own. He’ll leave if you want him to. If even the slightest indication of discomfort mars your face. “Gotta problem?”

The kids will be fine. Megumi’s always liked you more than the sperm donor who only came back because he had to. And it’s not like he’s leaving permanently. Probably, anyway.

“Not really,” you say, meaning it. “It’s just…” you glance at him, unsure. “I thought you’d leave. Sleeping together is…”

He raises an eyebrow. “I just emptied my balls in ya sweetheart, that’s about as intimate as it gets.”

You blink, as if you had forgotten just where his cock had been an hour prior. If anything, you know how to bruise a man’s ego. No wonder Gojo and Geto are desperate to get your full undivided attention before you flit off to some space in your head reserved for something purely nonsensical.

“Then…I suppose they wouldn’t…want to stay the night either…right?”

How you managed to twist his words like that is simply beyond him. He doesn’t think he could survive one miserable day with the mental gymnastics it takes for you to contextualize yourself as desirable. He doesn’t have the brains for it.

You look a little embarrassed, as if berating yourself for having even thought about it. It strikes him once again that the only reason you had even asked him to fuck you in the first place was because of some misplaced insecurity. And you were lonely. The lonely ones always seek comfort and you are the loneliest person he’s ever met.

Geto and Gojo thought you’d wait for them, even if they didn’t. It’s a mistake that will haunt them for the rest of your lives.

Now you look like a kicked dog, even more than you usually do.

“You could ask,” he says lamely. He doesn’t really know what else to say.

You look vaguely sick at that, for reasons he cannot, once again, fathom. You are a being of endless possibilities. So instead he decides to be amused.

You quickly change the topic. “Do you think I can make them happy?” Your voice is touched by an unusual smallness. You fidget with the sheets, not looking at him.

Toji thinks you could kick Gojo in the balls, and he’d be just as enamored with you, if not more. (He knows a masochist when he sees one.) As for Geto, he’s never seen anyone who could be so effortlessly charming one second, and utterly exasperating the next. (He’s seen the chilling tightlipped smiles given to interlopers who encroach on his time together with you.)

“Men are easy,” he says lazily, “especially when they’re thinking with their cocks. Keep your legs open and they’ll do the rest.”

Instead of shying away from his words, you look relieved. “I can do that.”

He snorts.

You fall silent once more, comforter pulled up to your neck.

“Sometimes,” you say quietly, forlornly, “I think Suguru and Satoru forget I’m not like them.”

He doesn’t know if you think he’s asleep. He doesn’t know if you expect a response. He doesn’t move, doesn’t make a noise. It’s the first time you’ve breathed their names into existence since the evening started.

It doesn’t matter, because after a few minutes you curl, making yourself smaller. Your breathing slows, and in the dark of the night you almost look like a corpse. It would terrify anyone who has held your hand, searching for a heartbeat in the pulse of your wrist.

He closes his eyes.

——

You wake up much earlier than you usually do. Morning has only begun to peek through your curtains. You stare at your ceiling for a couple of minutes, gauging every part of your body, from your shoulders to your toes. There’s a throbbing in your thighs and side, a persistent ache that flares even stronger when you try to move.

You aren’t quite sure what you expected. There’s a weight next to you. You look at the ceiling some more, before sliding your gaze next to you.

A lazy eye cracks open. The two of you stare at each other. You aren’t sure if you’re breathing, in the seconds it takes for you to blink. You had always thought the resemblance between him and Megumi was uncanny. Megumi has Toji’s eyes, both the shade of green and the slightly down tilted shape that lends severity to a glare.

Then he rises, without bothering to put on his clothes. You watch him retreat to the bathroom, and then hear the start of water. He comes back, towel low on his hips, water trailing down his neck.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you tell him. It’s the first words you’ve spoken to each other since last night. It might be an invitation, in the way the set of his eyes narrow. Just like that, things are back to normal.

Heat unfurls in your stomach.

You trudge to the bathroom and turn on the water. It doesn’t take long for the water to get hot, or for Toji to come. He fucks you over the counter, and when you step into the water, it’s a near boil. You leave the bathroom, legs still trembling.

You’re drying your hair with a towel when your phone rings.

Your phone is about to die, but it’s Satoru, and by extension, Suguru, calling, so you answer it anyway.

“Morning,” you say lightly, settling back on the bed, next to a reclining Toji. The two of you keep a respectable space between yourselves. Your thighs ache.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up,” Suguru says through your phone. His voice is soft, so close to your ear, that you almost close your eyes.

“—SPEAKER!” Satoru’s voice. You wince, spell broken, as you are, presumably, put on speaker as Suguru sighs and mutters something about broken eardrums.

Rustling. Movement. And then a loud grunt. Your lips twitch into a grin. You can almost see them rolling around on the bed, fighting over the phone.

“How’s Hokkaido?” You ask.

“Cold,” comes Satoru’s voice.

“We’ll be back in the evening.” You can hear the smile in Suguru’s voice.

Satoru’s voice is fainter, evident of distance. He must have gotten up. “Bakery first!”

Suguru’s answering silence is an eye roll.

“Should we get dinner all together then?” You ask, eager. “Shoko’s finishing up early today.”

There's another silence. A pause. You blink, wondering if you’ve accidentally overstepped somehow. You quickly rescind your offer. “Unless you two already have plans. In that case—”

“No,” Suguru’s voice drops an octave. “I was thinking we could order in tonight.”

The implication in his sentence isn’t lost on you. Your face warms. “Oh,” you say, suddenly overcome by a restlessness. Next to you, Toji raises an eyebrow. You ignore him, forcing yourself to swallow, chest tightening. “Okay.” Then. “Tonight?”

You had been planning on asking Toji if he could teach you how to give a blowjob first, but you suppose that’s out of the question now.

“If that’s what you want,” Suguru murmurs.

The panic on your face must be alarming, because Toji snorts.

“Yeah,” you say quickly. “That’s fine. Tonight…works.”

“...Is someone there?”

You blink. “Yeah,” you reply, without really thinking about it. “Fushiguro-sensei.”

Toji’s head is cocked to the side, silent, in a way that tells you he must have overheard everything. It’s not as if you have anything to hide.

Suguru’s voice is measured. The tone he takes on when his face goes eerily blank, perfunctorily pleasant. Something in your chest tugs. “And what, is Toji doing there so early in the morning?”

It’s your turn to go silent. Maybe tonight isn’t the best night after all. You’re a bit tired, and sore all over. They won’t want you, not like this, and the fear or rejection is a sobering thought. You aren’t confident in yourself enough yet.

The phone is snatched out of your hands. Toji gives you a look, meeting your gaze. There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, and it gives you the vaguest sense of a ticking time bomb.

He speaks into the phone, eyes never once leaving yours. “What do you think?”

The phone clicks off as he tosses it to the floor.

He meets your confusion with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Turns out you’ll be seeing them sooner than you thought.”

#you don't really need context to read this but ifkyk #fushiguro toji x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #m.jjk

289 notes · View notes