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onlymingyus · 18 days ago

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Water

pairing; yoon jeonghanx f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff/romance, comedy

summary; being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret…that’s something completely different.

warnings; eating/drinking, alcohol, mentions flying in a plane, inaccurate french, a bit of self deprecating thoughts and feelings, hiding a relationship, idiots in love, oral (f receiving), fingering, jealousy, crying (from pleasure and not), petnames, unprotected sex, cum on skin/creampie – as always there might be a warning I am missing but do try.

w/c; 19k and some change (489 words on patreon)

a/n; as always I have to thank @junkissed for not only proofreading but also helping me with coming up with so many brilliant ideas. I also want to thank @wooahaeproductions for lending me her brilliant brain and offering so many beautiful ideas. -- after much thought i have decided to sporadically release some of my older patreon exclusives if and when i am feeling generous. since i am working on tkg and unable to release anything the way i would like to i posted a bonus for patreon subscribers and i am releasing this to you all here on tumblr. i hope you enjoy it. to those of you who were less than kind when i first posted it, i hope this teaches you a lesson of patience and humility. if you had been nicer to me this might have came to tumblr sooner.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“I’ll try not to slobber on your shoulder.”

You roll your eyes with a faint laugh at Mingyu’s words as he sits on your right in the aisle seat. The “fasten seatbelt” sign had just turned off and a quick glance at your phone told you that the plane had been in the air for about an hour. It was going to be a long 13 hour flight to Paris and while Mingyu was settling in to take a nap, you weren’t sure you were going to be following suit.

Jeonghan purses his lips, watching you shift in your seat. You looked restless and he understood the feeling. While he felt like he could get up and take a walk along the aisle, beside him, Dokyeom was snuggled up against the window, watching a movie on the screen in front of him.

Slipping out of his seat, Jeonghan leans to bump his hip against Mingyu, only to make the man groan, opening his eyes in annoyance. You were looking up at your friend curiously, your brows furrowed as he pursed his lips and jutted his thumb back over to where he had been sitting just a moment before.

“Trade with me.”

Confusion slowly spreads across Mingyu’s face as he looks from Jeonghan to you and back up at the other man. Lifting his brows, Jeonghan sighs and waves his hands as if trying to hurry Mingyu out of his seat, as if he were in the wrong spot, when clearly Mingyu had known he was supposed to sit beside you.

“What? You serious?”

“The fuck, you mean, am I serious? I’m talking, aren’t I?” Letting out another sigh, Jeonghan gestures towards Dokyeom once again.” Gyu…Go sit beside Dokyeom and cuddle with him. Clearly, you both want to sleep and Y/N isn’t going to. I want someone to talk to.”

Groaning, Mingyu looks back at you as you give him a soft, pouty smile, reaching up to pat his cheek as he begrudgingly gives up his spot to Jeonghan. Sliding past the smaller man, Mingyu narrows his eyes at him, only to get a smirk in return as Jeonghan slips into the seat with a happy sigh.

Dokyeom glances over to Mingyu as he slumps down in the seat, pulling his blanket over his legs, as he watches Jeonghan look over at you with a grin on his face. There was something weird about what had just happened but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Shrugging, Mingyu glances towards the movie playing in front of Dokyeom as he leans his head to rest it on his friend’s shoulder, watching it on mute as his eyes get heavy.

“Jeonghan…You are so full of shit.”

Your words draw Jeonghan’s attention as he adjusts his seat, leaning it back to get more comfortable beside you. It was going to be a long ass flight but his traveling companion had just gotten exponentially more attractive.

“Why? Did I lie?”

Rolling your eyes, you glance away from Jeonghan and out of the window as he smiles at you. Yoon Jeonghan was one of your best friends. When the idea of going on this group trip to Paris came up, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go but it had been him who had talked you into it. There were plenty of reasons not to go but in his opinion, there were even more reasons to go.

Your relationship with Jeonghan was complicated. It hadn’t started out that way. You had met him along with the rest of your friends in college. All of you were studying different things but at the end of the day, it was your personalities that had led you all together.

Kim Mingyu had been the first friend that you had made and your gateway into the group. Many others had come and gone but by the end of four grueling years at university, there were fourteen of you that had stuck together and now ten of you are on a plane for a once in a lifetime vacation.

When you don’t answer him right away, Jeonghan lets his eyes run along your neck and up to your pretty face. He had always had a harder time than some of the others when it came to keeping it platonic with you. Then, last Halloween, Jeonghan found out he wasn’t the only one struggling with that feeling.

Maybe it had been the alcohol or maybe it had been all of the tension in the air but in a dark corner of Seungcheol’s apartment, you and Jeonghan had shared your first heated kiss. That kiss had turned into a long conversation the next day, which led to an even longer discussion about how neither one of you wanted to fuck up your friendship.

“We will just have rules, Y/N.”

You had sighed as Jeonghan had run his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up so he could look at your face as he spoke. You hadn’t wanted to agree to the idea of being friends with benefits but the ache between your thighs every time you looked at him had been enough to keep you listening and to make your lips part as he had ran his thumb under your bottom lip.

“If either one of us wants to stop, we just say it. No deep conversations have to happen. My only rule is that if you are going to fuck someone else, tell me. I don’t want to be second best.”

Jeonghan had listened to you whining softly under your breath as his fingernails scratched along the side of your head at your hairline. He had known you wanted it as much as he did but what he didn’t know was that it was going to hurt you just as much as it was already hurting him. It seemed like such a simple solution to how he was feeling. He would get to have you in his life even more. He would get to fuck you as much as possible, but then you’d leave every single fucking time and it would start to hurt every single fucking time.

Turning back towards Jeonghan as you feel his eyes moving along your skin, you fight the urge to move closer to him in your seat. You weren’t alone on the plane and your friends weren’t that far from you, with Mingyu and Dokyeom sitting diagonally across the aisle and Jihoon and Joshua behind you.

“You could have kept Dokyeom awake to talk.”

Smirking, Jeonghan purses his lips as he moves to lean across you, pulling down the shade on the window, leaving you and him both veiled in the low light of the cabin. You sigh as you feel his fingers slide along your forearm to your wrist, his fingernails causing chillbumps to spread along your skin as he draws small circles on your skin.

“I don’t want to talk to Dokyeom, I want to talk to you.”

Sighing softly, you glance down at your hand as Jeonghan runs his fingers along yours before linking his hand with yours. You knew the light was dim enough that no one would see and that if anyone did, they probably wouldn’t ask too many questions because Jeonghan was just a touchy guy to begin with. What you didn’t know was why your heart was in your throat. You didn’t know why your friend with benefits even wanted to hold your hand in the first place.

“Listen…I’m just saying we already came up with the rooming arrangements before we even got on the fucking plane. Why are you two being such bitches about it now?”

You sigh, leaning against Mingyu’s arm, as Joshua stares at Seungkwan and Chan in the hotel lobby. You already knew who you were rooming with and he was doing a great job holding you up at the moment. It was just the youngest of your group who were being cry babies about their rooms.

“We are here for a week, Shua! If you had to spend every single night in a room with Lee Chan, you’d bitch a little bit about it too.”

Groaning, Jihoon rolls his suitcase towards the group, causing Soonyoung to whine as his roommate swipes the card from Seungkwan’s hand before offering his to Chan.

“Why do I have to lose my best friend over this?”

Jeonghan laughs at Soonyoung’s dramatics as Chan pouts, knowing Soonyoung was going to be upset at him for the rest of the day because of the rooming arrangement. You watch the eldest of the group pat Joshua on the back as he gestures for Dokyeom to head for the elevator.

“Come on, Y/N. You look like you could use a nap.”

Hearing your name, you blink up at Mingyu before offering him a tired smile. There had been little sleep on the plane. You had never been good at sleeping on transportation but between that and Yoon Jeonghan at your side, it had been a battle you were destined to lose.

Holding the door back, Jeonghan purses his lips, waiting for you and Mingyu to get in before he presses the button, causing Joshua and Jun to throw up their hands when the door starts to close in their faces.

“Oops! It’s full!”

You knew Jeonghan was being a menace. The lack of sleep was adding another level to his usual antics. Leaning against the elevator wall, Jeonghan watches as you sigh, your head leaned forward as Mingyu stands beside you, his and your luggage in hand as the elevator climbs. He had wondered on the plane if there was a way to switch rooms but that would be too obvious and Mingyu had already looked like a kicked puppy when he had made him give up his seat.

With a final ding, the elevator doors open to a long hallway. Glancing at the wall, Mingyu mutters under his breath before taking a left before looking back at you with a laugh that comes to a stop to let you catch up to him.

“Come on, Squirt. We are in 546.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, following behind you and Mingyu, not even noticing the look that Dokyeom is giving him. While Mingyu didn’t seem to realize the relationship that was right in front of him, Dokyeom wasn’t as oblivious. He knew there had been something different for months, even if Jeonghan wouldn’t tell him what it was.

“Don’t plot his murder yet, he’s not flirting. She’s like his sister.”

Dokyeom’s voice is barely over a whisper but Jeonghan still looks at him as if he is announcing his words to the world. It was that sort of wide eyed, deer caught in the headlights look that told Dokyeom that he was right.

“I–shut up. I know that. He’s just dumb. I’m not doing anything.”

Chuckling under his breath, Dokyeom nods along with Jeonghan’s rambling as the two watch you and Mingyu open your hotel door before you offer them both a quick smile and wave, disappearing into the room and leaving them in the hallway.

“Sure, man. Whatever you say, you have the key.”

Waking up to a dimly lit room, you wince at the pain behind your eyes as you try to look around at the other bed, seeing it still made and empty. There was no sign of Mingyu in the room besides his now empty suitcase at the end of his bed and a few of his things strewn about on a couch in the corner of the room.

You hadn’t meant to nap for as long as you clearly had but the flight had been long and now you were feeling bad about how much you must be missing from the trip. It wasn’t like there was a planned itinerary for every single day, but you did have some plans as a group and with different people. Otherwise, you were free to travel the city or use your time as you saw fit. Apparently, for the first few hours spent in Paris, you saw fit to snore into a very comfortable pillow.

Reaching for your phone, you whine at the headache plaguing you as you look through your texts, seeing a few that you had missed along with a couple phone calls.

[Missed call: Cheol at 11:30 a.m.]

[Missed call: Cheol at 2:16 p.m.]

Cheol: I talked to Gyu. He said you passed the fuck out. Call me later. Wish I was there. 😭

Mingyu: Going out with Shua and Jun~~ be back later. Love you 😙

Jeonghan: Are you awake yet? Let’s order room service.

Sighing, you tap Jeonghan’s message first, hovering over the keyboard before finally replying.

Y/N: I just woke up. Mingyu is out.

Jeonghan had been awake for about an hour longer than you so when you finally text him back, he glances down at his cellphone resting on his stomach with a soft smile. At least he had been smiling until you mentioned Mingyu.

Jeonghan: I know where he is. I wasn’t asking to order room service with him.

Y/N: Fine…

While you didn’t sound entirely convincing, Jeonghan wasn’t going to turn down the chance to spend some time alone with you. He knew where Mingyu was along with Dokyeom and he knew they would be gone, at least for a few more hours.

Sliding off the bed, you move into the bathroom to grab some pain reliever, making it back to the mini fridge by the time you hear the knock at the door. Leaning to pull the door open, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes before his gaze slowly moves over your frame and back up to your face as he slips into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“I didn’t think you were ever gonna wake up. I almost asked Mingyu to let me in before he left.”

Scoffing, you swallow your medicine with a gulp of water as you feel Jeonghan’s fingers sliding along your hip. You knew he was kidding, at least mostly. As far as you knew, he didn’t want anyone to know he was fucking you and you didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with him, no matter how much it hurt to be a dirty little secret.

“So he could ask you why?”

Shaking his head, Jeonghan lets you pull away from him as you move back to your bed, flopping down on it with a groan. He had noticed the medicine in your hand and he could see the way your brows were furrowed. He had known you long enough to know the signs of your headaches and when you weren’t feeling well. Sitting down next to you, Jeonghan runs his hand along your leg to the end of your shorts as you look at your phone, responding to the rest of your text messages.

“He could have asked why. I don’t care. You want me to just pick something for us to eat?”

Wrinkling your nose, lost in thought, you glance at Jeonghan as his fingers push under the leg of your shorts, a concerned look on his face. He was full of shit 90% of the time but there were times when the two of you were alone that he made your heart tighten in your chest.

“Mm, yeah. Just gonna call Cheol back and wait for this medicine to kick in.”

Nodding, Jeonghan watches you for a moment longer before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, causing you to close your eyes and return it as your fingers barely hold on to your cell phone. There was no reason for him to kiss you.

When the two of you came up with the rules of your relationship, there were no strings attached. It had started out with no kisses goodbye, but that rule had quickly been broken. Then the no sleeping over rule had been broken more than once by both of you, and now Jeonghan was sending your brain into a frenzy with such a sweet gesture as he smiled against your lips before sitting back to take out his own phone, pulling up the room service menu.

Swallowing hard, you furrow your brows, lifting your fingers to press them against your lips as you make yourself pull your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you and back to your phone, pressing down on Seungcheol’s name. You knew it was late in Korea but not so late that he wouldn’t still be awake.

“Hey…didn’t think I’d hear from you today.”

Seungcheol’s voice makes you pout. You could hear the sadness in his tone as he leaned back in his gaming chair. You had offered to stay back and hang out with him but between his insistence that you go and Jeonghan’s whining, you had paid for your ticket, leaving an injured Seungcheol under the care of your other friends who couldn’t make the trip.

“Sorry, I was so tired from the flight. How are you feeling today?”

Scoffing, Seungcheol looks down at the brace on his knee before leaning his head back in annoyance, not really at your question but at the situation.

“Fine. Minghao went with me to rehab and then Vernon and Wonwoo hung out and played some games earlier.” Pursing his lips, Seungcheol glances out his window at the lights of the city, listening to the sounds of the traffic compared to the quiet sounds of your conversation. “How’s Paris?”

Jeonghan closes one eye in thought before turning his phone towards you to ask if his order was okay, only getting a nod before you sigh and give your attention back to the phone call. You had been disappointed when any of the group had been unable to come along but especially Seungcheol. He and Mingyu were like family more than they were friends and now part of your family had a torn ACL and was stuck in his apartment playing video games and eating takeout while you were visiting a foreign country.

“I’m glad they are taking care of you. We miss you. I haven’t seen much other than the back of my eyelids, Cheollie.”

You say we before you even think about what you are saying, causing Jeonghan and unknown to you, Seugncheol to furrow their brows. It wasn’t like you had lied; Jeonghan had wanted his best friend to come on the trip but it wasn’t like he knew that he was in the room.

“We…” Smirking to himself, Seungcheol shifts in his chair, reaching out to move his mouse across his screen to open his game back up, knowing he was going to end the phone call sooner than he had even anticipated. “Tell Han I said hi. Call me tomorrow. Love you.”

Groaning, you avoid Jeonghan’s eyes as he searches your face, seeing a look of embarrassment wash over your expression. Your relationship with Jeonghan was a secret from most of the group but it had been Seungcheol’s apartment that you had been making out with Jeonghan in and he wasn’t an idiot.

“Shut up… I–Cheol says hi.” Sighing, you watch Jeonghan lean his head back, realizing what had happened as you finished up your phone call. “Love you too; talk to you tomorrow.”

Lowering your phone, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he stares at you, tilting his head. You could see the question on his face but you weren’t sure you were up to answering it. Instead, you toss your phone down on the bed and groan as he watches your dramatics, putting his hand back on your thigh unable to stop the smile that pulls at his lips.

“We miss you, Cheollie.” You could hear the teasing in Jeonghan’s voice even as you lifted your arm to rest it over your face. “Why did he assume it was me?”

Groaning his name, you turn on your back, causing Jeonghan’s hand to slide to your inner thigh, where he lets it rest. You squirm slightly, feeling his thumb rub small circles along your skin as he watches you closely much to your dismay.

“Probably because Mingyu is out and he has already talked to him.”

You fail to tell Jeonghan the part about how Seungcheol also knows that you are fucking Jeonghan but he is nice enough to only tease you sometimes about how much it’s going to break your heart one day. Sliding your arm from your face, you sigh as Jeonghan’s fingers start to work into the tight muscle of your thigh. It felt good; it was a nice gesture but you knew there was an ulterior motive to it.

“We can’t do anything while we are here, Jeonghan. We have no idea when Mingyu will be back, and I don’t –”

An annoyed groan slipping from between Jeonghan’s lips makes you fall silent as he slides up in bed and between your legs to hover over you on the bed. Your heart was beginning to race from the image of him above you to the thrill of the situation. You really didn’t know when Mingyu was coming back from his outing and the food could be delivered at any moment.

“We are in Paris and you are going to lay on this bed and tell me that we aren’t going to fuck while we are here?”

Slotting his leg between your thighs, Jeonghan smirks when he hears a whine get caught in your throat. There were many things he loved but one of them was feeling the warmth of your pussy, clothed or not, against his thigh. He loved when you would instinctively start to buck your hips against his leg just from the desire to feel any sort of release because you had to chase it.

“Y/N…baby…princess…my beautiful angel…”

All the pet names that fall from Jeonghan’s silver tongue cause your fingers to dig into the comforter as you try to fight the urge to roll your hips against his thigh. You can’t help but lift your right hand, grabbing for something more substantial, and find Jeonghan’s shirt when you feel his lips press against your neck as he kisses up to your ear. With each kiss, Jeonghan speaks and allows his warm breath to tempt you even further.

“I might actually die if I can’t have you this entire time.” You knew he was being dramatic but you could also feel how hard Jeonghan was getting against your thigh so he was doing a good job of convincing you that he was telling you the truth. “We can be so careful. I’ll make it worth it.”

You knew he would keep that promise. Every time with Jeonghan was worth it. No matter how much you tried to lie to yourself, even the cracks that were starting to line your heart and the stress building in your mind were worth it.

Jeonghan whines your name against your jaw as his hand pulls your hips up and tighter against his thigh. He could feel the way you were starting to roll your hips and it made him want to lay on the bed under you and watch you ride his cock like that until he filled you full of his cum. He wanted nothing more than to keep you like this forever, to make this simple like it was in his head but his heart was making it complicated. His heart had made it complicated from day one.

“Bonjour, service en chambre.”

The voice of someone on the other side of the door and a stern knock pull you and Jeonghan from your lust filled haze quickly. With an annoyed groan, Jeonghan rests his head against your shoulder before nodding against it as the man announces himself again, trying to get any response from the room.

“Oui, une minute, s'il vous plaît.”

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan takes a deep breath before sliding off the bed to adjust his sweatpants. You could hear the frustration in Jeonghan’s sighs as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, moving towards the door and letting you sit up on the bed. In reality, there was nothing for either of you to be upset about. He had placed the order so it wasn’t surprising that it was being delivered in a timely manner.

“Merci…”

The word falls from Jeonghan’s lips like venom as he takes the bags from the man before slamming the door in his face. Turning back to face you, Jeonghan gives you an incredulous look, finding you pressing your lips together and trying not to laugh at him. He didn’t find anything about the situation funny.

“I got cock blocked and you are laughing?”

Smiling, you reach your hand out to help Jeonghan with one of the bags, taking out the drinks and sitting them on the nightstand out of any danger of spilling, as he grumbles under his breath. You can’t help but laugh again, opening both straws and finding him pouting at you.

“You didn’t even offer him a tip. Are you that pissed off?”

Opening one of the containers with more force than necessary, Jeonghan grabs one of the forks, stabbing at a piece of pasta and lifting it to his lips, still pouting.

“Is your cock still hard and not wet, Y/N? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a cock that gets painfully hard every time you look at your incredibly hot gi—friend.”

Coughing as he takes a bite of food, Jeonghan looks down as he almost slips up on his wording, hoping you won’t notice. You just furrow your brows, your straw pursed on your lips, as you watch him for a moment before taking a sip and tilting the drink towards him, offering it to him to do the same.

You weren’t sure what you had heard. You knew what you wanted to hear but at the same time, did you? What would that mean? So instead of lingering on it, you focus on the rest of his nonsense, letting Jeonghan off the hook for his slip up.

“No, I don’t have a cock but I do get horny. You act like girls don’t get just as horny as guys. It’s not my fault that I can just hide it better.”

Scoffing, Jeonghan leans towards you, taking a sip of your drink before turning his fork towards you to offer you a bite of the pasta, feeling the warmth that had risen in his neck and face starting to fade. Maybe he had just gotten lucky and you hadn’t caught the word he had almost used to refer to you or maybe you were just being nice. Either way, he wasn’t going to push the subject if you weren’t.

Watching you take the bite from the fork, Jeonghan lets his eyes move over your face, lingering on your eyes. You were so beautiful, it was painful, and he was being honest when he said he didn’t want to waste the time the two of you had in Paris. It would be a waste to fly so far and not indulge in you as much as he could.

You furrow your brows as Jeonghan’s eyes fall to the bed, the two of you eating mostly in silence until finally you are the first one to break the tension as you groan, rubbing your hand over your stomach with a grin on your face. Jeonghan can’t help but smile once again, feeling endeared by you as he takes another sip of drink before putting it back on the nightstand.

“Full?”

Nodding, you stretch on as Jeonghan works to close containers and cleans up, moving around your room. You watch as he glances back at you, his eyes moving along the length of your body, to the arch of your back when you whine into a yawn. Smiling, you reach for your phone, checking your messages, and at the same time feeling him lay on the bed next to you, slender fingers barely graving over your stomach, before Jeonghan slides his hand under your shirt to have contact with your skin.

“I’m not.”

Your laugh makes Jeonghan smile. The smile is genuine and full—not one of his half smiles that he would give to just anyone. No, this smile is one that is meant just for you. Reaching up to take your phone out of your hand, Jeonghan whispers your name and you can hear the need and desire laced in his voice like a question. With your brows furrowed, you can only meet his eyes and nod before his lips are back on yours.

Whimpered moans slip into Jeonghan’s mouth as his fingers slide under the top of your shorts and between your legs. It was one thing to feel you against his thigh and it was another to feel your wet pussy on his fingers.

Jeonghan groans into the kiss. He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips, feeling you lift your hips towards his hand as his fingers spread your folds. Between breathy kisses, the sticky, wet sounds of Jeonghan’s fingers teasing you are all you can hear, even as you mutter, begging him for more.

“More? Like what? What do you want, beautiful?”

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you practically sob out a moan of frustration at Jeonghan’s question. You knew how much he liked you to tell him exactly what you wanted and he knew how much you just wanted him to give him everything. Pushing your head back against the pillow, you bite at your bottom lip only to have Jeonghan’s teeth pull it from yours with a dark laugh.

“What do you want, Y/N? My fingers or my mouth?”

Tears run from your eyes along your temples as Jeonghan’s lips press against yours teasingly. He was driving you crazy with his light touches to your clit, and it was making it hard to think and even harder to speak. Arching your back, you gasp Jeonghan’s name as his thumb and forefinger close around your clit, rolling the small bud between his fingers, waiting for you to speak.

“Ah–fuck! Both…please? Please, just give me both. I can’t stand it.”

It had been longer than Jeonghan would have liked since he had been in your bed and normally he would be more strict. Normally he would make you pick one thing and draw out your orgasm until you were begging him through tears for more, but just feeling your slick arousal on his fingers made Jeonghan weak for you.

Moving to his knees, Jeonghan pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts and underwear. You only manage a soft whimper of his name as he slides them down your legs and tosses them onto the floor before letting his eyes roam over you. Licking his lips, Jeonghan slides his hands under your knees, pulling your hips down in bed as he lays on his stomach so that your pussy is level with his face.

“Fuck…Jeonghan, please? Stop teasin—”

Running his tongue from your entrance to the top of your mound, Jeonghan silences you as he groans to your taste. It really had been too long since he had been between your legs and he was starving. The food had been nothing in comparison to this and he was feeling almost feral after a single drop of you on his tongue.

Long, slender fingers part your folds as Jeonghan moves his other hand from under your leg to circle your dripping hole with his middle finger as you moan his name. He could play you like a well tuned instrument and he knew every note by heart.

Turning his hand palm up, Jeonghan groans under his breath, feeling your warm, soft walls welcome in his finger and tighten around them. He could just imagine how good you would feel on his cock and it had him leaking profusely in his sweatpants as he willed himself not to rut against the bed, lowering his head to flick his tongue at your throbbing clit.

There have been few people in your life who made you feel as good in bed as Yoon Jeonghan and there were none who looked as good as him between your thighs. No one’s hair felt as good between your fingers as you held them against you; their lips wrapped around your clit as their fingers steadily pushed you towards heaven. No, that was only Yoon Jeonghan.

You tasted better than anything that Jeonghan could imagine. He had wanted this from the moment that he had walked into the room and now that he was lucky enough to be between your legs, he could feel his head going fuzzy with just thoughts of you. You were like a drug that he could never get enough of.

It was the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his fingers as he pushed you over the edge and the sounds of your sweet little moans that caused Jeonghan to almost lose it. Words almost escape between his lips—three little words that could ruin everything. Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan buries his face against you to silence himself, enjoying the taste of your cum on his tongue until the sound of your phone causes him to furrow his brows.

Your fingers tear at the bedding under you as Jeonghan tries his best to pull another orgasm from you until the familiar sound of your ringtone starts to play from beside you on the bed. Gasping for a full breath, you glance over to see Chan’s face as Jeonghan looks up at you from between your legs with a disappointed look on his face.

“Let it go to voicemail.”

That was one option but if Chan was calling you, there had to be a reason. Whining, you slide your hand across the bed, listening to Jeonghan groan in annoyance, laying his face against your thigh as you do. Licking your lips, you catch your breath before putting your phone on your chest and answering the phone while speaking, hoping it will mask some of your labored breathing.

“Chan? What’s up?”

Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan shakes his head as you answer the phone, knowing he isn't getting laid now. First, the hotel staff had bad timing and now Lee Chan was cock blocking him. Glancing back up at you and the phone, Jeonghan shifts to his elbow, leaning to wipe his lips as Chan finally speaks up, his voice instantly breaking your heart.

“Y/N…I forgot my key. Soonyoung is in the room and won’t answer the phone. He’s still mad about earlier and you apparently have to have the key to get back into the hotel past a certain time.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a light scoff, causing you to shoot daggers from your eyes in his direction. You could hear that Chan was drunk and you had always had a soft spot for the younger boys in your group of friends. You had taken on the big sister role very quickly and took it seriously. Throwing his hands up, Jeonghan mouths “what?” in your direction at the look of disappointment on your face at his reaction before you simply roll your eyes and slide off the bed to pick up your shorts, sliding them back up your legs as you speak to Chan.

“I’ll come down and let you in and then we will go talk to Soonyoung. Give me like five minutes.”

Tossing your phone back on to the bed, you move past Jeonghan as he whines your name, trying to grab your hand, only to find your fingers slipping from his. He knew he was being selfish but fuck, he felt like he deserved it just a little bit. Every once in a while, people could be a little selfish and enjoy the company of their— Even in his head, he couldn’t think of the right word to call you, so Jeonghan watched you from the bathroom door instead as you freshened up.

“Can we try again later?”

Sighing, you glance at Jeonghan through the mirror as he leans his head against the door frame, a look of disappointment on his face that almost shatters your resolve. You wanted to be less “easy” and say maybe or maybe not but instead you just nod and try to walk past him, feeling Jeonghan’s hand slide around your waist. Soft lips press against yours and you feel your knees start to give at the feeling and at how much you want to pull Jeonghan back into your bed.

“I’ll text you in a bit.”

Six words and Jeonghan leaves you standing in your room, feeling confused and lost. Only the sound of a text and a selfie of a pouty Chan sitting on the steps, asking for a rescue, pulls you back to reality.

Your fingers move along the rows of silk and satin on the rack as you purse your lips. It wasn’t that the dresses weren’t gorgeous. All of them were and all of them cost half of your rent. Mingyu lifts his gaze towards you as he pulls a shirt from a rack, putting it up to his body, before turning towards the mirror to judge his choice.

“You can’t tell what they look like unless you actually look at them.”

Mingyu was your favorite shopping partner. You found out years ago that he loved to shop even more than you did. He had a great eye for what would look good on you and you were grateful for that because you seemed to lack that ability.

“They are so expensive, Gyu.”

Nodding, Mingyu glances at the tag of the shirt held against his chest before sighing and draping it over his arm. You glance up at the man as he moves beside you, being a lot more thorough with the dresses than you had been.

“It’s my treat. We need to find you something pretty to wear for tonight. You are going out with Jeonghan, right?”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you stumble over your feet, trying to take a step away from your best friend. Lifting his brow, Mingyu just smirked, taking one of the dresses from the rack—a long sleeved, soft mint green dress with a deep V neckline.

“I–Mingyu…first of all, no. I can’t let you buy it. Secondly, no… It’s dinner with Jeonghan and Dokyeom.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu moves closer, holding the dress up to you and reaching out with one hand to hold the long sleeve to your arm. Pursing his lips, Mingyu glances over his shoulder at the shop attendant, furrowing his brows, trying to remember anything he had practiced in French.

“Um… Excusez-moi. Salle des vêtements ?”

Smiling, you furrow your brows at Mingyu’s attempt to ask for a fitting room as the girl just smiles at him and lifts her brows, speaking in English as she gestures towards the back of the store.

“There are fitting rooms this way.”

Laying the dress over his arm along with his shirt, Mingyu shrugs before looking back at you as you laugh under your breath.

“What? What did I say?”

“You asked for the clothes room. I mean, not too far off.”

Sighing, Mingyu walks beside you before offering the pretty store attendant a dazzling smile before she leaves the two of you alone to try on your outfits.

“Well, it’s not like that’s the first time I’ve looked like an idiot in front of a woman. I don’t know how to say "fitting” in French.” Offering you the dress, Mingyu lifts his brows as you start to whine, looking at the price tag. “Try it on, Y/N.”

You slide your fingers over the silk, taking the dress from Mingyu, before going behind the curtain. The dress was beautiful. It was not what you would have picked for yourself just because you weren’t sure it was something you could pull off. The V of the neck was deep and would show off your collarbones. It would take at least ten minutes to button all of the buttons that led from your waist to your chest but by the time you were finished, you were even speechless as you stared at the mirror.

Adjusting the white button up over his chest, Mingyu turns to the side and nods at his appearance in the mirror before looking at the curtain you had disappeared behind. He knew you were going to look good but he also knew that your self esteem was going to get the better of you without a little push.

“Y/N…come on, get your ass out—oh…”

Words fall silent on Mingyu’s lips when you open the curtain, your leg peeking from the large slit that rests at the top of your thigh as you move into the center of the fitting room area towards the larger mirror where he stood. You were his best friend and more like a sister but he was also a guy at the end of the day and he had eyes. You were stunning.

“Is it awful? I told you that nothing in this place would look right on me.”

Shaking his head, Mingyu steps behind you, taking your shoulders to put you in front of the large mirror where lights would shine down on you, allowing you to see better how well the dress truly fits you. It hugged in all the right places and flowed in others.

“You are fucking beautiful. Yoon Jeonghan is going to lose his damn mind.”

Jeonghan couldn’t stop staring at you. He knew that the restaurant that the three of you had chosen to go to was nice but when he had met you in the lobby of the hotel with Dokyeom and you had been in that dress... Jeonghan had almost lost his mind.

You smile as Dokyeom walks beside you, his cheerful voice causing your face to light up like a star in the sky, while Jeonghan struggles to think straight. How could anyone be around you without wanting you? Jeonghan wasn’t sure how Dokyeom could act normal around you when you looked like you had stepped out of Jeonghan’s dreams.

Jeonghan was in love. He had known it for a while now but looking at you now, in that dress, under the Parisian street lamps... He couldn’t tell himself it was just lust anymore.

Glancing up at the sign for the restaurant, you can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you. They hadn’t left you for the entire walk from the hotel to the restaurant. You felt like you were going to float away under his gaze but the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground was Dokyeom.

“The reservations are under your name, Y/N.”

Jeonghan’s voice brings your attention to him fully and you feel your cheeks heat up as if you were standing in front of an open flame. He looked incredible. You were all dressed up. The restaurant wasn’t incredibly fancy but it was considered fine dining so you all wanted to look the part. Jeonghan had chosen dark jeans, a dark button up with a jacket, and brown boots. Everything fits him perfectly and makes your mouth feel dry.

“Right…I’ll check in. Be right back.”

Two sets of eyes watch you but one lingers longer before Jeonghan finally pulls his eyes from the door to focus on Dokyeom with a long sigh.

“Y/N looks fantastic tonight, don’t you think?”

That was one way to put it. Jeonghan just scoffs into a laugh, lifting his hand to run it over his lips before nodding and narrowing his eyes, thinking about how to answer that question and what he even wanted to say. He knew what he wanted but he knew it would upset you if you found out. Fuck it.

“She looks beautiful.” Moving in closer to Dokyeom, Jeonghan watches the man lean his head back a bit, almost out of concern. His eyes widen as if the shorter man was going to hit him before Jeonghan smooths Dokyeom’s jacket and smiles. “If you make up a reason to leave now, I'll give you 50 bucks or literally anything you want.”

Laughing, Dokyeom tilts his head, thinking it has to be a joke, until he meets Jeonghan’s eyes and sees the serious look of desperation in them. He knew that his friend liked you but maybe it was reaching that point where he was willing to admit it to himself and you.

Swallowing hard, Dokyeom glances towards the door to see you smiling at the hostess, your eyes glancing towards him as you give him an apologetic look and say something else to the woman. There was no way he wasn’t going to get a guilt trip from you for leaving but if he didn't, Jeonghan might actually hit him.

“I–fuck man. Y/N is gonna be pissed at me. She’s the one who wanted us to all get dinner together, but...”

One more look into Jeonghan’s eyes and Dokyeom felt his excuse crumble. He could see how important this was to Jeonghan and now it felt important to him too.

“Yeah…alright. I’ll come up–”

“Okay! So she said, like ten more minutes.”

Stepping back from Jeonghan, Dokyeom clears his throat before smiling just a bit too big at you. You knew something was different but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Jeonghan was pretty good at lying to you or at least at pulling something over on you but Dokyeom wasn’t.

“I am so sorry but I have to get back to the hotel. Rain check on dinner.”

Watching your face fall, Dokyeom feels his stomach tighten as you take a step towards him and he takes a step back, knowing that if you press him too much for answers, he will crumble.

“What? You were so excited. Why?”

Lifting his hands, Dokyeom gestures back towards the hotel and it’s as if you can see the gears moving in his head as he thinks of an excuse on his feet.

“Uh…Min–Mingyu. Yep, Mingyu texted me. He wants my help with something. So I gotta go, right now. Like right now. Bye!”

Starting to speak, you end up closing your mouth as Dokyeom lets out a squeal, quickly moving away from you into the flow of people heading away from the restaurant. Narrowing your eyes, you look back to Jeonghan, who rubs his lips together before smiling sweetly at you and lifting his hand, offering it to you.

“Looks like it’s just us, baby.”

Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you roll your eyes at Jeonghan before turning from his hand, realizing he must have had something to do with Dokyeom’s quick departure. You sigh as you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, Jeonghan’s chin resting on your shoulder as he smiles next to your ear before pouting.

“What? Are you mad at me? I didn’t leave.”

Leaning your head away from his lips, you hear Jeonghan let out a long sigh as you all but reject him again. Fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and Jeonghan’s brows furrow deeply.

“Y/N…seriously?” A quick glance from you has Jeonghan leaning his head back with a groan before he nods, giving in. “Yes, I asked him to leave. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Your features soften at Jeonghan’s confession. You had figured that he had asked Dokyeom to leave but you hadn’t really expected him to tell you. You had expected to argue with him to the point that he would lie about it and then tell you the truth around the time for dessert. What was different about tonight?

“I–what? Yes…I didn’t want you to lie to me.”

Jeonghan’s hands slide from your waist as he begrudgingly lets you stand on your own, as if coming to the realization that you don’t want to be held or to hold his hand. You watch as his eyes widen, a small smile pulling at his lips when you slide your hand along his.

“Mademoiselle?”

Glancing up at the woman you had spoken to earlier, you let out a soft breath, giving her a smile and a nod before leading Jeonghan along with you. He listens as you explain that your party has become two and she drops off a menu at the front before leading you and Jeonghan to a table near a window.

Watching you from across the table, Jeonghan takes a deep breath as you look down at your menu, his eyes moving as he tilts his head to see your legs crossed just off to the side of the table. He knew that he should be more civilized, perhaps more respectful but the way the dress was hugging your thighs and the way the slit of the dress was sitting so high on your leg was making his mouth water.

Licking your lips, you start to ask Jeonghan what he is thinking about ordering when you lift your eyes to find his eyes moving along your legs and up your body. The heat rises once again in your neck and up your face at the amount of attention he was giving you. You had known he had been looking at you but you hadn’t expected him to do it so obviously now.

Meeting your eyes and finding you watching him, Jeonghan grins, having been caught by you. He knew he should be embarrassed but instead, he just lets out a breath and shakes his head.

“You are so fucking pretty. I’m sorry… I can’t stop staring at you. That was why I asked Dokyeom to bail on dinner. I wanted you all to myself. I’m selfish.”

Shifting in your seat, you reach for the water in front of you, taking a sip at Jeonghan’s words. You hadn’t expected him to speak so candidly about his reasoning for why Dokyeom had left or why he was looking at you the way he was. You watch his smile soften and his gaze drop to his menu, allowing you a moment of clarity to take your own breath as you get a break from his attention.

“You are selfish.” Your voice is quiet and meek but Jeonghan smiles, letting out an amused breath before looking up at you once again as you continue. “You could have just asked me to dinner on your own.”

Jeonghan swallows hard at your words, his confident facade breaking slightly as he looks down at his menu. Clearing his throat, Jeonghan tries to think of the right words before he finally manages to meet your eyes again.

“Is it shitty of me that I’m afraid you’ll turn me down? So this way, we were all going out. You had more of a reason to be here.”

Your heart shouldn’t be aching the way it was hearing another confession from Jeonghan but it was breaking your heart. You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t sure what he even wanted you to say. The rules had been clear. You were just friends. Has that changed?

“Jeonghan…”

The whine in your voice sounds similar to a rejection and Jeonghan can’t stand the idea of that so he just smiles and holds up his hands, happy to see the waiter standing beside you. He didn’t want to hear how he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t Kim Mingyu or Choi Seungcheol. He already knew, but that didn’t make him want you any less. Maybe he could still prove it to you.

Jeonghan was thankful for the wine running through yours and his system as you laughed, leaning against his body. He knew you weren’t so drunk that you weren’t thinking clearly but you were feeling free enough that any of the earlier tension seemed to have melted away.

“It was so good. Those coffee truffles… Jeonghan, oh my god. Babe, will you go back and get me more?”

Hearing you call him babe was like injecting his veins with serotonin. Jeonghan nods before leaning to press a kiss to your jaw as you laugh sweetly. He would give you the world if you asked for it and laughed so beautifully for him like that.

“Mm, I don’t wanna go to bed.”

You pout into your words, looking up at the hotel, as you dig into your purse for your key and Jeonghan holds on to your waist with a grin. You were adorable all of the time but when you were even a little tipsy, you dialed up the cute factor by a hundred, making him melt at the sight of you. Sliding the key from your fingers, Jeonghan listens to your laughter as he taps it against the reader and pulls open the door as you thank him.

“Then we won’t go to our rooms yet. I know a place. I found it earlier.”

Jeonghan piqued your curiosity, causing you to tilt your head with a small, curious sound. Laughing, the man lets you lean on him as he walks to the elevator, still using your key to open it, before pressing the button for the top floor.

“Where are we going?”

You lean between Jeonghan’s legs as he rests against the elevator wall, the quiet beeps of each floor being passed acting as background music. Smiling, Jeonghan slides his hands along the soft silk of your dress to rest them on your hips, leaning his head back against the wall with a small chuckle at your question.

“Up.”

One final ding and the doors open to a long, quiet hallway. You lean back on your heels to look, making Jeonghan hold your wrists to keep you steady. The coast looked pretty clear; only a housekeeping cart and a few room service trays left outside the doors let you know to keep your voices down.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jeonghan smiles behind his finger as you lower your head to suppress a laugh sticking by his side. The two of you sneak down the hallway, only stopping at the housekeeping cart long enough for Jeonghan to grab a blanket slipping it under his arm.

“Where are we going?”

The question once again slips from your lips as you glance back to make sure no one was following you and Jeonghan as he turns to the left to what seems like a dead end, a door leading to an emergency exit to the roof. Raising his brows, Jeonghan pushes the door with his shoulder and you wince, ready to hear an alarm but when nothing happens except the door opening, your eyes soften and your mouth falls open in surprise.

“Shhh, our little secret.”

Keeping your hand tightly in his, Jeonghan climbs the steps before pushing open a second door, causing you to gasp at the sight. From the roof of the hotel, you can see for miles on a clear night. The lights of the city twinkling and burning like stars and in the distance, even the Eiffel Tower greets you like something out of a movie as you let go of Jeonghan’s hand moving towards the wall lining the entire roof.

Jeonghan just watches you in awe as the wind lightly moves the dress around your legs as you rest your hands on the wall, looking out into the city. Sure, the city was beautiful but it had nothing on you. He had been to more places than most in the group but none of them compared to this... to you now.

“Oh my god... Jeonghan, this is so pretty. I’m so glad you found this.”

Hands slide around your waist as Jeonghan moves to stand behind you with a smile on his lips. He had wanted to wait a bit longer and just watch you but the urge to touch you was just too great. Leaning back against him, you laugh under your breath, sliding your hands over his, taking in a deep breath of the night air. This was perfect. If you could write out how you wish your life could be lived every day and every night, it would be like this. You would be in Jeonghan’s arms, looking out over a beautiful city. But that was a pipe dream.

Nudging his nose against your neck, Jeonghan furrows his brows, feeling your shoulders drop. He could sense your mood changing but he wasn’t sure why. All he knew was that he could and wouldn’t let something so perfect go to waste.

“Can we pretend?”

Jeonghan’s words, spoken against your neck, are almost so quiet that you have to strain to hear them but you close your eyes and furrow your brows in question.

“What?”

Pressing his hands tighter against your stomach, Jeonghan practically whines out his words, causing your heart to tighten and practically shatter.

“That we are more than this. Just tonight? That’s all I’m asking for. I know I’m not fucking worth it… but just pretend for me? One…fucking night?”

If he had any idea what he was asking you to do, it didn’t seem to show. You were already suffering with the arrangement that you had and now he wanted more without actually having more. It was almost unbearable and yet all you can do is whimper out a “yes” and a “please, Jeonghan,” like the pathetic woman you are. You say it because you are irrevocably in love with Jeonghan and you can’t admit it openly to yourself, much less to him.

Turning in his arms, you reach up to cup Jeonghan’s cheek as you feel his fingernails scratch along the silk of your dress at your waist. Dark brown eyes search yours for a short moment until soft lips finally connect with yours, taking your breath away.

Jeonghan was always a good kisser but there was something about this kiss that felt different. This kiss felt desperate, as if he was trying to make a point or to ingrain it into your memory forever, just in case there wasn’t a second chance.

You whine out a soft moan, stepping back from the side of the roof as Jeonghan catches your bottom lip between his. He feels your free hand tug at the front of his jacket as if you are trying to keep him in place but just a few more steps back, he finally stops before pulling away to pick up the blanket he had put to the side.

You watch as Jeonghan lays out the blanket, kneeling down, before offering you his hand to help you do the same. Now it made sense; of course he had a plan. He always did. He was the type of person to think three steps ahead of everyone and usually five steps ahead of you. Carefully moving down to the blanket, you let Jeonghan pull you into his lap, his free hand tracing the line of your thigh and tugging your dress up your legs so as not to cause your dress to rip on the way down.

“You look so fucking pretty tonight, baby. This dress…fuck… I love it but I—shit, I gotta see you. Wanna see you under the stars. Wanna fuck you under them.”

It was cliche and yet Jeonghan’s words had your cheeks on fire. The words had your breath quickening as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trying to figure out how to impatiently undo the dozens of buttons as he whined in annoyance.

“Goddammit… There are too many.”

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan glances up at you, mischief in his eyes as he grabs either side of your dress at the front, trying to tug at it to make the buttons come loose. Reaching up to grab his hands, you whine, making him sigh at you, his tongue running across his lips as you pout at him, trying to make him see reason.

“I didn’t buy it... It was a gift from Mingyu.”

Pressing his tongue into his cheek, Jeonghan lifts his brows, learning where your dress came from. He knew deep down that there was nothing between you and Mingyu but that didn’t stop him from seeing red in that moment and it didn’t stop him from making a split second decision. The sound of expensive buttons being flung across the roof makes you gasp as you lean back, looking down at your ruined dress as Jeonghan groans, leaning to kiss over the lace covering your breasts.

“Jeonghan…What the fuck?”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more. Just don’t say his name again, not tonight.”

Muttering against your chest, Jeonghan shakes his head, sliding his fingers along your shoulders to push the dress down your arms before he looks up to meet your eyes. You see no sense of regret or remorse in his eyes, just lust and something else that you aren’t sure if you can name or that you want to.

Leaning your head back, you close your eyes, feeling Jeonghan’s lips move up the length of your neck towards your jaw. Chillbumps erupt along your skin as his fingers guide your dress down your arms, letting the material pool at your waist when you slip your hands from the sleeves.

“Then don’t leave me like this alone.”

You whine out the words so sweetly that Jeonghan smiles on your skin, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he sits back, shrugging off his jacket, letting you help him undo the buttons of his shirt. Your nails lightly scratch his chest as your eyes take in his handsome face. You had looked at him hundreds of times this closely before but this time felt different and on some levels, you knew this time would hurt your heart more in the morning.

Tossing his shirt to the side, Jeonghan reaches up to cup your cheek, leaning to brush his lips against yours with a soft sigh at the feeling of your kiss. You were giving into a feeling this time and he could tell. Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan uses his free hand to work open the clasp of your bra, feeling it give way as you arch your chest towards him, your hands holding tightly to his biceps as if grounding you to the roof and to him.

Cold air nips at your breasts when Jeonghan slides the lace from your body before warm breath walks across the same path. You feel his hands holding the arch of your back as your fingers push through his hair, a moan slipping from your lips at the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Please, Jeonghan…”

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan pauses, leaving his lips pressed against the soft skin of your breast, when you breathe out his name, begging for more. In what seems like just a span of a heartbeat, you find yourself on your back on the blanket, Jeonghan hovering over you, his longer dark hair framing his face as his eyes move over your face.

Lifting your hips, you find yourself shying away from Jeonghan’s attention as he slips the dress down your legs, a shaky breath escaping from between his lips at the sight of you bare in front of him. He knew it had just been a day since he had laid between your legs but every time felt like a privilege, especially this time.

“Holy shit, baby…”

Trying to turn your head, Jeonghan’s long, slender fingers stop you. In Jeonghan's opinion, there was no reason for you to look away or for you to be embarrassed by anything. You were perfect.

Another soft, “please...” reaches Jeonghan’s ears as his thumb brushes under your bottom lip, causing his brows to knit together just slightly. He had heard you beg before; he had even made you beg but he didn’t want to make you beg or want anything this time. Tonight, he wanted to give you anything and everything you wanted. Tonight he wanted to prove something to you, even if it was just pretend.

Watching Jeonghan nod and move back to his knee, your eyes fall to his hands as he lets out a deep breath, working his belt open with shaky fingers. Sitting up, you listen to how Jeonghan’s breath changes when your hands take the place of his, your fingers steadily undoing his belt and his jeans, before you meet his eyes through lowered lashes.

Jeonghan can’t help but smile, a laugh escaping from his lips on an exhale in reaction to even the smallest action from you. There was no denying that he was turned on but there was more to it that even he couldn’t explain in a single night. Shaking his head, Jeonghan moves to his feet, his eyes still on yours, as you watch from the blanket as he sheds the last of his clothes before moving back to his knees and back into your touch.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Jeonghan groans, feeling the warmth of your body against his as he lays between your legs. Sliding your leg along his thigh, you rest your knee at his hip and run your fingers along his arm, enjoying the feeling of the weight of his body even as you ache for him between your thighs.

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan licks his lips when he tries to move, his hand pushing against the blanket and you cling to him, keeping him close to you. Meeting your eyes, he finds a desperate look in your eyes that he knows he isn’t going to be able to resist even before you speak.

“Just…please? Fuck me, Jeonghan, please.”

He hadn’t prepped you and he hadn’t touched you since yesterday but he could feel how aroused you were as his cock rested between your legs. Groaning, Jeonghan starts to shake his head in a feeble attempt to argue with you and reason with you but when you lift your hips and rub your pussy against him, every thought in his mind is lost. Instead, Jeonghan whispers your name on your lips as you kiss him and beg him again with your hand cupping his jaw.

Nodding, Jeonghan reaches between the two of you, lining himself up with you and listening to your breath hitch as he pushes into your tight walls slowly until he bottoms out, his hips resting fully against yours. With one hand resting beside your head, Jeonghan grips your hip with the other hand, resting his forehead against yours as he stays still for a moment to catch his breath as you clench around him.

The stretch is familiar and yet without the prep, though you had begged him to skip it, you find yourself needing the moment to adjust. Jeonghan wasn’t too big but instead, it was as if his body was made for yours and he filled you perfectly. Once the initial pain of the stretch faded, only the feeling of euphoria and the need for him to move remained.

Lightly scratching your nails against the side of his neck, you swallow hard to catch your breath before nodding and lifting your hips as if trying to urge him without words. Jeonghan groans into a soft chuckle of your name that sounds like a plea for mercy before you swallow the sound with a kiss as your lips find his.

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan rocks his hips towards yours, filling you once again deeply, causing you to moan into the kiss. Each thrust sends the knot in your stomach to tighten, pushing you towards the edge and your orgasm. The way that Jeonghan seems to know your body and how he finds just the right angle wordlessly, moaning his name as tears gather on the rims of your eyes, makes your head spin.

“Baby…”

The pet name whispered against your cheek so softly that the tears that had collected in your eyes fell on a soft sob as you wrapped your arm around Jeonghan’s neck. You pull him closer to you not wanting him to see you cry from something other than pleasure. Closing his eyes tightly as his lips rest against the crook of your neck, Jeonghan hisses out something intelligible that he is afraid you might hear or he might regret as he feels you tightening around him, your orgasm ripping through you. There were three small words that he had tried so hard to keep to himself that could mean nothing or everything.

With a few more uneven thrusts, Jeonghan follows you over that edge, quickly pulling out of you to cum on to your stomach with a labored, breathy groan, his eyes searching for yours as you avoid him. He could see the tears that had streamed down your face and across your temples into your hair but he wasn’t sure if they were good tears or not.

Reaching up to wipe his thumb under your eye, Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak but the words are hard to get out. There was so much he wished he could say to you if he weren’t so stupid and scared, so instead he shifted to his other hand and wiped the tears from your other eye before using his shirt to clean your stomach silently.

After a few moments, silence was deafening, and you felt like you were going to scream if one of you didn’t speak. It had never been this quiet after you and Jeonghan had fucked but then again, it had never felt like that before. Swallowing hard, you look up as Jeonghan finishes buttoning his shirt, your dress mostly covering your body.

“Jeong—”

“Y/N…”

Both of you stop speaking. Having spoken over one another, a smile lifts at both of your lips and Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning down to pick up his jacket before he moves to put it on you. Moving around you, he meets your eyes as he zips up the jacket before leaning to press a kiss to your lips and you feel your heart beat hard and fast like it’s going to burst or break. You aren’t sure which will happen first.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I’m sure Mingyu will call the cops if he wakes up and finds you missing from your bed.”

Nodding, you feel Jeonghan’s fingers slide against your hand before his fingers lace with yours and he leads you back towards the door and back to reality, where the two of you could stop playing pretend. You feel the tears once again prickling at your eyes. Sniffling, you will the tears back, at least until you are safe in bed and away from Jeonghan’s watchful eye.

Jihoon lifts his brows as you swirl the wine glass in front of you thoughtfully before taking a sip. You glance towards where Soonyoung is talking to a pretty lady showing him another bottle of wine before you once again frown into your glass. It wasn’t like you to be so quiet or to look so down.

You and Jihoon weren’t as close as some of the others in the group. In truth, you and Soonyoung were closer but over the years, everyone had grown up. Personalities had changed and around a year ago, you had found yourself picking up the phone to text or call Jihoon more often for advice or just to talk.

“Wanna join us for this wine tour, Y/N? You scheduled it.”

Looking up from your glass, you meet Jihoon’s eyes with a look of surprise and guilt. You knew you had been more distracted and distant all day but hearing it from Jihoon’s mouth snapped you back to reality.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon... just a lot on my mind.”

Nodding, Jihoon takes a sip of his wine, glancing towards Soonyoung, who seems oblivious to not only the conversation but any of the tension as he accepts a different glass of wine.

“I can tell. Maybe you need to just tell Jeonghan how you feel about him.”

With your own glass sitting against your lips, at Jihoon’s words, you choke on your wine, watching the man smile and take another sip as if he had just told you about the weather. The sound of your coughing is finally what draws Soonyoung back to you, concern on his face as he pats your back, leaning to look at you closely.

“You okay? Don’t drink it so fast.”

“She’s fine, Soonyoung.”

Nodding, you try to agree with Jihoon but Soonyoung takes the glass from your hand, leading you towards one of the empty tables, making Jihoon follow with a sigh.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

Gesturing his hand out towards you as if to say, I told you so, Jihoon takes the seat across from you as Soonyoung sits beside you, his brows finally relaxing.

“Okay… you wanna keep going?”

Jihoon watches you closely as you consider the question, your eyes falling to your phone in your hand. When you take longer than he feels necessary to answer, he purses his lips, leaning forward to rest his chin on his fist and looking towards Soonyoung, meeting his eyes. The two share a quick, silent conversation.

“I–I mean, yeah, course —”

“I think Jeonghan canceled his plans on Shua today too.”

Blinking a few times at Soonyoung’s words, you take a breath before leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. The warmth of Soonyoung’s hand running along your back is as soothing as it is humiliating as his words echo in your head.

“Y/N… It’s not a big deal.”

Scoffing, you sit up, sniffing back any emotion that has come to the surface, before you look at either of your friends with a shrug. You had been careful. Clearly, Jeonghan had been the one to fuck up but maybe you could still keep this a secret on your part.

“What? Why would I care what he’s doing today?”

Smirking, Jihoon lets out a breath that sounds more like a chuckle as he leans back in his chair, causing you to look in his direction. Meeting your eyes, the man lifts his hands in disbelief at your attempt to lie.

“Really? That’s how you are going to try to play this?”

The look on Jihoon’s face made you want to smack him but you tried to keep a look of indifference on yours. Sighing, Soonyoung just shakes his head, resting his arm on your chair behind your back, tilting his head towards you.

“You are dating him, aren’t you? I mean…kinda what it seems like. He’s all over you and if anyone even looks at you for too long, we get a death stare from him. Even Mingyu…” Smiling, Soonyoung lifts his hand from the chair to brush under his nose, amused as he speaks. “Especially Mingyu.”

Sighing as you lift, you reach for your wine, taking a sip of it and lifting your shoulders in mild defeat. Soonyoung wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t know. After last night and the state of your dress lying in your suitcase, hiding from Mingyu, you knew that Jeonghan had the wrong impression of your relationship with him—or he just didn’t want to understand it.

“It’s not my fault he can’t control his face. At least this isn’t my fault.”

Sharing another look with Soonyoung, Jihoon smiles at you before finally laughing as he looks down at his fingers around the stem of his wine glass.

“Uh, Y/N, you both fucked up if your goal was to keep your...” Furrowing his brows, Jihoon meets your eyes, looking for a bit of clarification, getting none before he continues. “Relationship, a secret.”

Now it was you who needed the clarification. You couldn’t think of a single time that you had been careless enough to make your relationship with Jeonghan as obvious as Jihoon was making it seem. Lifting your brows, you whine Jihoon’s name, making the man lower his head and nod before he continues with his explanation.

“About a month ago, you called me around like, fuck, two in the morning. You were wasted and I’m pretty sure you were hanging out at Cheol’s.” Sighing, Jihoon looks at Soonyoung as if looking for moral support as he continues. “You said something about wanting me to keep a secret about Jeonghan. No matter what I said, I couldn’t stop you, so you told me you were sleeping with him.”

There wasn’t enough wine or water in all of Paris to help the way that your mouth went dry at Jihoon’s words. You knew that you got drunk with Seungcheol on occasion and you also knew that there were a few times you couldn't remember the night before. You also knew there were nights you would see phone calls or texts to friends, mostly Jeonghan, that you couldn’t remember the next day, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would do something like what Jihoon was recounting for you.

Wincing in embarrassment for you, Soonyoung watches you stare at your wine glass for a full minute before you slide your purse on to your shoulder and clear your throat.

“Uh… I’m so fucking sorry, Jihoon. I’m sorry to both of you. For today and for that night. Fuck…for any night that I have done anything stupid like that.”

When you start to stand up to leave, Soonyoung reaches out to take your hand with a frown on his face. You close your eyes, feeling his thumb press against your palm as he grounds you to the moment, his voice soothing you like his hand had rubbed your back moments before.

“No one is mad at you or upset. Honestly, not many others really know. Some of them assume something is up but personally, I just want you both to be happy. You clearly like each other.”

Closing your eyes, you swallow hard feeling tears that threaten to fall as they collect behind your lashes. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of your friends knew that. Shaking your head, you carefully pull your hand from Soonyoung’s.

“I’m just a phase, Soonie. I–I gotta go. Have a good day. Sorry…”

Barely meeting Jihoon’s eyes, you see him start to speak as you reach up to wipe away a tear as quickly as it falls before you slip past a group of people moving into the winery.

“Fuck.”

Nodding along with Soonyoung’s one word response to your exit, Jihoon sighs as you walk out of the door. He felt like he could have handled the situation better but he hoped you needed the push.

Watching Jeonghan from his bed, Joshua lifts his brow as Jeonghan sighs for the umpteenth time. They had plans to go on a walking tour, to see the Eiffel Tower, the Seine River, and maybe even get some food before the end of the day, but now Joshua was feeling like those plans were changing.

Lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, Jeonghan tries to push you from his mind and the tears he had seen on your cheeks as he had walked back to your room with you. He tried to forget the sad smile you had given him as you said goodnight and handed him back his jacket—the jacket he was thinking about putting on for the day. Now the jacket was lying on his bed, and he had stared at it, sighed at it, and walked away from it multiple times as his best friend watched thoughtfully.

“Did the jacket offend your family?”

Laughing into a breath, Jeonghan slides his hand down his face and over his lips as he shakes his head. He knew Joshua was trying to lighten the mood and make him laugh but he had no idea what was really going on. As far as Jeonghan knew, no one knew about his arrangement with you—well, besides Dokyeom but he was clearly just observant.

“Nah…just not sure I wanna wear it.”

Sighing, Joshua purses his lips as Jeonghan picks up the jacket and brings it to his nose, taking in a breath before shaking his head. Either he hadn’t washed the jacket in a long time or something else had happened with it that he wasn’t telling Joshua about, which only meant one thing.

“So, did you wanna tell me what's going on? This have anything to do with the texts I’m getting from Jihoon about how fucking depressed Y/N seems today?”

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan looks down at the jacket in his hands. It smelled like you, not just your perfume but just you and he knew if he wore it today he would be even more lost in his head. Joshua’s words pull him back from his thoughts but only make him put up an instant facade as Jeonghan smiles and shakes his head.

“Huh? What do you mean? Is she, uh, she okay? Should I text her?” The facade starts to crack the moment he tries to talk about you; no matter how good of a liar Jeonghan could be when it came to you, it was becoming harder to pretend. Licking his lips, Jeonghan looks down and manages to continue what he was saying. “I’m not sure what I could say to help her, but I could check on her if you think I should.”

Laying his jacket across a chair, Jeonghan shakes his head at his own weakness, knowing he must look like an idiot. As Joshua just sighs and sits up on the bed. He knew that look even without actually seeing it. He had been best friends with Joshua Hong for nearly a decade; they were closer to brothers than friends at this point and if there was anyone that it was difficult to lie to, it was him.

“Stop. I’ve pretended not to notice because you two obviously wanted to keep it a secret but I know you better than almost anyone.” Tilting his head, Joshua watches Jeonghan scoff as he listens to him speak. “I thought you would just tell me when you were ready but something happened, so just fucking talk to me, man. I hate seeing you miserable. I don’t like seeing Y/N upset either.”

Reaching up to once again pinch the bridge of his nose like he is getting a headache, Jeonghan moves back to his bed, sitting down on it with a loud sigh. The sigh was one of defeat mixed with relief as he finally met Joshua’s eyes and nodded.

“I fucked up. I could have fucked anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered but it’s been her.”

Joshua’s shoulders lift as he takes in a deep breath, getting confirmation of what he had assumed to be true. He knew things had been different for months but he also knew that even if Jeonghan hadn’t wanted to admit it to you or to most of the others, he had had a crush on you for years.

“Okay… So, like last night or?”

The question hangs in the air until Jeonghan tilts his head and winces out of embarrassment and anxiety. Joshua had known the answer to his own questions but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping this wasn’t as messy as it seemed. With the look on Jeonghan’s face, he knew it was a potential tangled web that could lead to the end of friendships.

“Shit–I..okay, I mean, I figured, but...”

Scoffing in disbelief, Jeonghan leans over his knees, putting his head in his hands. Had he been that obvious. He knew he had gotten a little jealous lately and maybe a bit more careless when it came to how he was acting towards Mingyu, but otherwise he felt like he wasn’t that transparent.

“I assume you aren’t dating.”

Shaking his head, still unable to meet Joshua’s eyes out of fear of what he will find in them, Jeonghan runs his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes.

“But you are, and correct me if I’m wrong here. You are in love with her.”

Fingers dig into his scalp hard as Joshua says the words out loud so flippantly. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua leans forward to watch Jeonghan as he processes what he had said before he sits up and slaps his hands down over his thighs with an unamused laugh.

“Because I’m an idiot.” Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan still avoids Joshua’s as his voice wavers even slightly. “You know we came up with rules? I came up with most of them when we decided to do this.” Pushing his thumbs into the meat of his thighs, Jeonghan lets out an unamused laugh as he seems to bask in his stupidity and the levity of the situation. “All because I wanted her to agree to sleeping with me because I thought that was the only way I’d get her to be with me.”

While Joshua could see how, where, and why the arrangement came to be, it still made him sad as he watched his best friend breakdown. He had never been in a similar situation and he didn’t think of you in the same way, but he did see how Jeonghan looked at you.

“Why would that be the only way? Why didn’t you just ask her out?” Scoffing, Joshua gestures towards his friend as if trying to get him to see reason as he speaks, his voice kind but firm. “Why don’t you ask her out now?”

Now Joshua was being ridiculous. He knew his best friend was intelligent—perhaps one of his smartest friends—but that idea sounded akin to driving his car into the ocean. Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he would do if he knew for sure that you didn’t care about him in the same way.

“And risk losing one of my best friends? Are you fucking insane? She doesn’t like me like that, Shua.”

Standing up, Jeonghan starts to pace. The weight of Joshua’s eyes is heavy but somehow it is still a comfort, even when he knows that he is frustrated with him. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua looks away from Jeonghan after a moment to look at his phone, seeing a text message from his group chat with Jihoon and Soonyoung. Lifting the phone from the bed, he scoffs under his breath, glancing towards the man in front of him as Jeonghan gnaws at his thumbnail, lost in thought.

"Clearly, she does. Jihoon said she’s not going to make it through the wine tour with them.” Glancing back down at his phone, Joshua texts back as he speaks quietly, knowing Jeonghan is still paying attention to him. “And I know we aren’t going out. You two need to fucking talk.”

Jeonghan’s mouth starts to open, only to close when he meets Joshua’s eyes as he looks over his phone. He knew it wasn’t a suggestion but the idea of it was terrifying.

“Figure it out, Jeonghan. Don’t throw away your friendship and the potential of something else over your pride.”

Sliding off the bed to stand up, Joshua pats Jeonghan on the shoulder, making sure to meet his eyes and see some understanding behind them before heading to the door.

You hadn’t necessarily needed a shower after your failed trip to the winery, but the hot water running over your face and body felt good and it had washed away your tears. The only unfortunate thing was that it only lasted as long as you stayed in the shower and as you sat on your bed, skin still slightly damp under loose clothes, you felt the weight of everything pushing back down on you.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There had been rules to stop any of this pain and yet from the first time that you and Jeonghan had slept together, there had been pain. You had known then that you should have stopped but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to stop that time or any other time after it, not even last night, as your heart felt like it was breaking into two. It was only the day after you felt like the most idiotic person on the face of the planet, thinking you could have more with someone who didn’t love you back, that you regretted it all.

Maybe it was time to end it.

Leaning to pick up your cell phone, you stare at Jeonghan’s name for a moment before pressing your thumb down over his name and putting the phone to your ear, listening to it try to connect. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, only to furrow your brows a moment later when you hear his ring tone as if it's just outside of your door.

“Hey, let me in, please.”

His voice was quiet but you could still hear him from two places, your phone and on the other side of the door. Taking a breath, you look at your phone, hearing the sound of a phone call ending knowing that he is waiting for you to open the door.

It was a simple task. Get up, unlock the door, open it, and greet Jeonghan, but as you looked at the door, knowing he was on the other side after everything that had already happened today and after what had happened last night it felt like you were preparing to scale Mount Everest.

With one last deep breath, you move to your feet, take the few steps that feel like miles to the door and open it to meet Jeonghan’s eyes. You weren’t sure what you had expected to see when you saw him. Perhaps you had expected the usual with him—his handsome face and cocky smirk on his face but instead you were met with a solemn look and dark circles from a restless night.

“I just… can we talk?”

Nodding, you step to the side, letting Jeonghan move past you into the room as he pushes his hands into his jean pockets, only to take them out again out of nerves. Jeonghan had always been one of the most confident people you had known but today looking at him, you were seeing a different man.

You were seeing the man that you saw late at night when he buried his face against your neck and muttered sweetly about it being the best place on earth. You were seeing the man who made you cry after those moments when he wouldn’t call you until three days later, seemingly just disappearing. This was the man who kept you on an emotional rollercoaster.

“Yeah…I think we need to. I have something I wanna talk to you about too.”

Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Jeonghan feels his heart in his throat before he tries to put on a facade, not knowing that it’s cracked, when he turns to look at you, offering you a sad smile.

“Yeah? You…you–uh, wanna go first then?”

Maybe after what Joshua had told him, he didn’t have to be the first one to say it. The words were so terrifying to him. Those words made him feel like you were going to run away from him and losing you as a friend and a lover was enough to make him feel like his chest was going to explode.

Shaking your head, you lift your brows, offering Jeonghan an unamused laugh as you move back towards your bed to sit down, pulling your legs up to criss-cross them under you. Watching him move towards you, Jeonghan pauses to meet your eyes before he sits down apprehensively beside you.

“Sure… I’ve been thinking and I love – “ The words get caught in your throat but Jeonghan hears the word love, causing him to sit up, only for his heart to pound in his ears as you keep speaking. “Loved the sex but I don’t think I can do it anymore. You–We said we could call it off at any time.”

The words make sense to Jeonghan but it is like he is in a tunnel where the wind is too loud for him to actually pick up on the sound of your voice as he stares at you, seeing your lips moving. You were asking to stop. You wanted to end it. That wasn’t what he thought you were going to say even if it made sense with the look he had seen in your eyes last night and with what Joshua had said earlier.

“Jeonghan? You—I mean… It's nothing serious. That’s what you said. You’ve made that very clear, several times.”

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips before he laughs but you can tell he isn’t happy and nothing is funny. You know Jeonghan well enough to know when he is deflecting and when he is in pain. Shaking his head, Jeonghan looks down at his hands before closing his eyes, muttering to himself something you can’t quite make out.

“What? You were too quiet, I couldn’t –”

“I just said—I said I’m stupid.”

Neither of you move; the room is silent as you watch with furrowed brows as Jeonghan reaches up to wipe under his eye, keeping his face hidden with his dark hair. You had seen Jeonghan cry before over serious things but something like this—the loss of a meaningless relationship—wasn't something you thought he would be upset over. You, on the other hand, felt like you were breaking as you watched the man you loved be upset, feeling like you couldn’t do anything to help him.

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’ve done nothing –”

Scoffing, Jeonghan glances at you, making you pause when you see the disappointment on his face. Sitting up, he turns towards you, starting to reach for your hand. He stops short, closing his hand into a loose fist and resting it on your knee.

“I have done everything wrong, so I know you want to be nice and tell me to be kinder to myself but, Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid. Is it not painfully obvious that I am in love with you?”

You look at Jeonghan with the same expression as you would a complex piece of literature. It was as if he had just tried to explain your feelings back to you, making you feel exposed to the sun. Shaking your head, you try to come up with the right words, only to let out a soft exhale of Jeonghan’s name, looking away.

Finally scooting closer to take your hand in his, Jeonghan feels the hole in the pit of his stomach struggling to fill as he tries to salvage what he feels like he has ruined. Lifting his other hand, Jeonghan timidly dares to run his fingers along your jaw, turning your face towards him so he can meet your eyes once again.

“I told you yesterday that I don’t deserve this... I don’t deserve you and I meant it, but baby, I love you so fucking much.” Swallowing down his emotion, Jeonghan licks his lips as he searches your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, his hand trembling against your neck. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that I did it like this. I told you, I’m stupid.”

It wasn’t fair; none of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that you felt like melting into Jeonghan’s touch or that you wanted to run away from him. It didn’t feel real and you had never imagined that Yoon Jeonghan would fall in love with you. You were just his stupid friend that he happened to be attracted to, but now he was telling you that everything you felt, he felt too.

“What the hell, Jeonghan?”

Your voice causes Jeonghan’s eyes to close; that whine in your voice sounds like the rejection that he was so terrified of. You look over his handsome face, feeling his hand fall from your neck when you make the leap, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, his hand reaching back out, holding the back of your neck and pulling you in closer, your lips firmly against his as he furrows his brows. He knew that if you actually wanted him to let you go, he would. He would give you anything you wanted. He would have given you anything from day one if he hadn’t been so afraid.

Resting his forehead against yours, Jeonghan listens to your soft breaths, your hands now clinging to the front of his shirt as if to keep him close to you. You hadn’t said anything back but right now he wasn’t sure he even needed you to; he just needed to know that you wanted him and you didn’t want him to leave.

Lips brush against your cheek before Jeonghan whispers your name like a question, sitting back to look at you, searching for his answer. A nod and look of desperation in your eyes is enough for him to pull you into his lap and have his lips back on yours as his hands roamed your back under your shirt, feeling your skin under his fingers.

Whining his name once again, you run your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair as you arch your chest against his, feeling chill bumps erupt along your skin at his touch. There was nothing that you wanted more than that feeling, the feeling of his hands on your body and his lips on your skin.

Whispering “please,” you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he groans, feeling you roll your hips over his. This hadn’t been his plan but he wasn’t going to deny you. He could feel his cock starting to get hard with every gentle grind of your hips over him and you were driving him crazy while making him fall in love with you all over again as he stared up at you.

“I’ll give you whatever you want—everything—anything; just ask for it.”

Moving to your knees, you rest your hands on Jeonghan’s shoulders, tilting your head to press your lips to his once more before speaking against them as you feel his hands rest under your ass.

“Make love to me then, that’s what I want.”

A breathy moan escapes from between your lips when Jeonghan lays you on your back and hovers over you, brushing his thumb across your cheek while admiring you. He had looked at you before but now he was wondering if he had ever really looked at you. He was noticing little things about the color of your eyes, freckles on your face, and how his heart was beating so hard.

“I love you.”

He had told you that he was in love with you but it was different hearing him say it that way and while he was looking at you like this. It felt real. Closing your eyes you feel the familiar tears start to well up in your eyes causing you to fight them as you reach up to hold Jeonghan’s wrist in case he were to change his mind.

When tears do finally run from the corners of your eyes along your temples, Jeonghan takes a deep breath leaning to rest his forehead against yours letting you cling to him. He knew now that the tears last night were sad like he had feared. Making a silent promise to himself to make up for it, Jeonghan kisses you gently, his thumb brushing away some of your tears as he speaks against your lips quietly.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You nod, nudging your nose against Jeonghan’s as your hands move to find the end of his shirt, working it up his torso. You feel the way his stomach tightens under your fingers when he takes a deep breath before sitting back to let you pull his shirt over his head.

The fabric falls from your fingers onto the bed, your eyes moving from Jeonghan’s face over his chest and down his stomach to where your fingers rest on the top of his jeans. Taking a deep breath, Jeonghan leans his head back to the feeling of your gentle touch and the much needed relief as you work the zipper of his jeans down.

“Fuck…Let me take care of you this time. Please?”

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan is happy to see the way you bite at your lips, your pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you tilt your head on the bed to look at him almost innocently. Nodding, you lift your hips, letting Jeonghan shimmy your shorts down your legs. Licking his lips, Jeonghan kicks his jeans and boxers away. His eyes stay fixed on you, studying you as if you were a piece of art to be admired.

“I love every part of this and if you want me to make love to you, let me do it right.”

Arching your back, you let Jeonghan slide your shirt up and over your head. He was once again really looking at you as he moved back on to the bed and between your legs. You were bare in front of him and everything about you was perfect as he studied your body. He took note of every single mole and even the smallest of scars, stopping to kiss them on the way to lying between your thighs.

Warm breath causes you to close your eyes and push your head back against the pillow. The first brush of Jeonghan’s tongue between your folds allows the tip of it to tease your clit, make your toes curl and gasp his name.

Getting a taste of you had never been enough for Jeonghan and this time he was going to enjoy it as if it were the last time, just in case it was. He wanted you to remember the way his name felt on your lips. He wanted you to remember how his mouth felt between your legs and how his fingers felt buried deep inside you as he curled them back towards your stomach, making you arch off the bed.

You gasp for a breath between moans. Reaching between your legs, you thread your fingers in Jeonghan’s hair as you push your hips towards his mouth, hearing him groan against your folds. He knew you inside and out and yet he had never made you cum so hard and so fast before.

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, I can’t—ah!”

Using his thumb to rub circles against your clit, Jeonghan watches you lift your hips, searching for your second orgasm, as he licks your cum from his lips. When you fall apart for a second time on his fingers, Jeonghan furrows his brows, cursing under his breath at the sight. There were few things on Earth that were that beautiful.

Fingers carefully slip from you, making you whine at how empty you suddenly feel but once you glance at Jeonghan resting between your legs, sucking his fingers clean, you moan, lifting your hand to cover your face. He was such a handsome man and he was doing something that seemed so dirty.

Smiling, Jeonghan tilts his head while watching you cover your face. He loved that no matter how much dirty shit had come out of your mouth in the past or how much the two of you had done, you always seemed so innocent. You were perfect in his eyes.

Carefully pulling your hand from your face, Jeonghan presses his lips to your knuckles, looking down at you. You can’t help but notice the way your body heats up at the simple action and the way your heart tightens seeing him smile against your fingers.

“You are so beautiful; don’t hide.”

Pressing your lips together, you can only see Jeonghan’s gaze as he moves your hand back to the bed beside your head, his thumb pressing to your palm gently before he lets go completely. You were used to Jeonghan being more rushed with you. Not necessarily rough but you both knew what you liked in bed and it wasn’t that he was treating you like he was now; it wasn’t something you didn’t like; it had just never been on the table. How he was treating you now was intimate; he was treating you like a man in love, like he said he was.

Brushing his lips against yours, Jeonghan smiles, feeling you do the same. He didn’t think there was a need to rush anything, especially if he was going to treat this like it might be the last time. You hadn’t told him how you felt and though he was hopeful, he wasn’t going to put words in your mouth.

You moan softly against Jeonghan’s lips. The tip of his cock nudges against your entrance as his hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee and Jeonghan urges your leg up towards his hip. With his free hand, Jeonghan holds himself steady even as he groans on your lips, feeling your warm, wet walls pull him in and clench around his cock.

Wrapping your leg around Jeonghan’s back, you let your head fall back, his thumb pressing against your skin just under your knee as he thrusts into you slowly and deeply. Pulling him in closer with your leg wrapped around him, you whisper Jeonghan’s name when he doesn’t start moving immediately. You knew that he liked to let you adjust but your desire for him was outweighing anything else.

Nodding, Jeonghan moves his hand from your leg to cup your cheek, resting his forehead against yours as he rocks his hips to meet yours in a smooth, deep thrust that makes you moan out a sound similar to a sob. Jeonghan could tell the difference now as tears started to fall from your eyes, these tears were from pleasure and not because you were sad. These tears he would want to see any day of the week. Jeonghan would die to hear you sob his name as you clenched around his cock and begged him so sweetly not to stop.

“I’m not, baby… you are so fucking perfect. Holy shit, I know I —” Groaning as he feels you clench hard around him, Jeonghan pauses to take a breath before burying himself inside of you as deep as possible feeling your thigh tremble as it rests against his side. “I know I’ve said it a few times now…but I love you. Fuck, I love you, not just this but you. Need you to understand that.”

Your fingers scratch as Jeonghan’s shoulders as you feel the pressure building and the cord winding tighter and tighter as he pushes you towards another orgasm. It’s only his words that keep you grounded and make you whimper his name as you pull his mouth to yours to make him stop talking when you fall apart for him once again.

Trying to breathe into your kiss, Jeonghan furrows his brows tightly, feeling the way your pussy hugs him and then tightens around him like a vice when you cum around him. His thrusts slow only for a moment before becoming harder and filled with even more purpose as Jeonghan starts to chase his own release.

A choke groan gets caught in his throat when Jeonghan cums, filling you with each one of his thrusts. Your fingers dig into his shoulder and bicep, leaving half-moon divots to mark where you have been as he pushes you towards the headboard with each deep thrust.

Soft lips walk across your throat and up to your jaw before finally making their way to your lips, pulling you back to reality. Jeonghan listens to your small whine when he slips from you once again, leaving you empty. Your arms and legs felt like they were being held up by strings until they were finally on the mattress and you found it hard to make them move again, causing you to pout and Jeonghan to laugh softly against your lips at your reaction to how tired you are.

“Tired, baby?”

You nod, leaning your head into Jeonghan’s palm as he brushes his hand over the side of your head and over your hair. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his eyes searching your face for answers and you knew it was the one he was looking for. You hadn’t been ready to give it to him at first but the more you lay in his arms and even considered anything different, the more your heart told you that you already knew.

“I love you, Jeonghan.”

Finally hearing you tell him that you love him, Jeonghan closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his face against the crook of your neck with a sigh. You can almost feel the weight lift from him as he nods against your skin, placing a kiss on your neck before muttering quietly against the column of your neck.

“I love you, too.”

With his headphones half on his head, Mingyu stands in the doorway of his shared hotel room only for a moment before groaning and lifting his hand to cover his eyes at the sight in front of him. He had assumed that you and Jeonghan were together and after talking to Dokyeom, he knew even more—he knew more of the drama behind it—but clearly, that was hopefully a thing of the past.

He just hadn’t wanted to be privy to it.

Glancing towards the door and hearing the sound of a groan, you smack Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of your shocked face. Nothing of what had happened had been the plan, or else he would have told Dokyeom to keep Mingyu out of the room.

“Gyu! Can you go? I am trying to do something here if you don’t —”

"Literally, stop talking to me while you are naked. I’m gonna go stay in Dokyeom’s room.”

You watch the door close, hearing the lock click in place, before meeting Jeonghan’s eyes, who shakes his head like Mingyu has done something wrong.

“He didn’t know. Why are you mad at him? This is his room, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan silences you with a kiss making you sigh against his lips as he speaks between kisses.

“I’m not mad.” Seeing you smile, Jeonghan kisses you softly once more before cautiously adding, “I just didn’t want him to interrupt my first time actually getting to fuck my girlfriend. Is that so wrong of me?”

Narrowing your eyes, you feel your cheeks burn at Jeonghan’s choice of wording but you still can’t keep the smile off your face, feeling his fingers running along your stomach as he moves to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms.

“Oh? Is that what happened? Is that who I am?”

Jeonghan nods, wrapping his arm tightly around you, pulling you on your side to face him so his fingers can draw small circles on the small of your back as he looks into your eyes.

“I fucking hope so.”

Sitting on Dokyeom’s bed, Mingyu stares at the wall while Dokyeom stares at him, wondering what happened, until finally his friend looks at him and shudders in a full body cringe.

“They were naked and possibly—you know. I will never be the same.”

Making a face, Dokyeom pats Mingyu on the back before tilting his head and shrugging.

“Well, it’s about damn time but better you see it than me.”

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#jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svt smut #jeonghan angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #jeonghan romance #seventeen romance #jeonghan comedy #seventeen comedy #seventeen

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highvern · 2 months ago

Text

endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings: cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“What’s the difference between a proton and an electron again?”

“Shoot me in the fucking head,” Wonwoo whispers harshly.

He’s a seat over, a laptop covered in gaming stickers and a coffee cup containing a lethal amount of caffeine occupying the space atop the narrow lecture desk. It’s a feign to productivity. His screen is split between thesis notes and a countdown to a new video game release that unfortunately hits 0 in the middle of lecture.

Dr. Wagner’s intro to chemistry course isn’t difficult – freshman aside – which is why you and Wonwoo agreed to be her teaching assistants. Easy money and a way to get in her good graces come grad school application season. You’ve TA’ed the same course since sophomore year for different professors but it’s all the same; the metaphorical killing field before hopeful freshmen become cannon fodder in the real trial of will: O Chem.

“Me first,” you whisper back.

Wonwoo slumps in his chair, opening the shared drive keeping track of problem areas to touch on in lab hours, and typing “check for basic brain activity” under the class To-Do list.

Fair enough. If they can’t understand the basics this far into the semester then you two are in for a world of hurt for the next practical. You're in for a world of hurt come next study hall when half of them will complain about failing their quiz this morning despite having the answers spoon fed straight from the notes.

[09:48] You: be nice

[09:48] wonwoo: if they were smarter, id be nicer

[09:48] You: maybe they’re scared stupid

It wouldn’t be too far off. One time a freshman burst into tears while asking Wonwoo to check their practice work during lab hours. Wonwoo swears he didn’t say anything and the kid looked on the verge of a mental breakdown if the wind blew the wrong way.

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

[09:48] You: the fact ur trying to kill them with your mind

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

[09:49] wonwoo: just maim or seriously injure so they dont come to class and say dumb shit

Dr. Wagner fields more questions in front of the powerpoint. More ‘dumb shit’ Wonwoo rolls his eyes at with such obvious disgust even you feel chastised. Luckily, no one can see his face from the front row besides you.

[09:49] You: you wonder why they like me more

[09:50] wonwoo: i know why they like you more

[09:50] You: oh?

Stifling an eye roll of your own you throw a glance his way as the next message comes through,

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

“Alright, Y/N and Wonwoo will be passing out the study guide for the next exam. We still have a few weeks so don’t worry about the back half but try and review the modules we’ve done so far and bring questions for them during study hours,” Dr. Wagner prattles off.

The gigantic stack of printouts is split in half for you and Wonwoo to disperse around the massive lecture hall. Over one hundred students sit in this lecture; the unfortunate ones who were forced to take a 9 AM course three days a week. Half look like their brain is melting out of their ears, other’s clearly haven’t paid attention at all, and a few are sound asleep. It’s Friday after all. They probably didn’t get back from their Thirsty Thursday night out until a few hours ago.

You wouldn’t even be here if Wonwoo wasn’t a built in insurance policy.

Dr. Wagner collects her things and heads towards the front exit with a cheery, “Have a good weekend!”

“There's a party at Sigma tonight,” Wonwoo shares as you both pack your own bags. The next class is already shuffling through the doors to claim their seats.

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

Shouldering your bag, you head towards the door where the next class is already trickling in to find their seats. “Don’t you have a tournament tomorrow?��

“I only have to be at the party for like an hour. I can come and walk you home.”

“Fine,” you nod. “But bring your laptop. I think Chan fucked up the last set of results and we need to fix them.”

It’s not unusual for Wonwoo to spend his Friday nights with you; or another night for that matter. He lives in a dingy frat house on the edge of campus with twenty other guys. It’s an act of mercy. A long standing tradition from the week before freshman year when you two were the only chemistry majors in your orientation group and that turned into a clumsy hook up at an upperclassman’s party. You didn’t know he’d be a virgin and he didn’t know your high school boyfriend dumped you less than twenty four hours before you left for college (but not before you lost your own virginity in the backseat of his car).

It’d been…not good.

Wonwoo was awkward and you were unsure. But he was sweet under the bravado; walked you home that night, pretended he wasn’t interested in the fact your roommate never moved in, leaving the suite empty. But he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign nonchalance when you invited him upstairs. Turns out sex was a lot better the second time around, in a bed that didn’t belong to an unknown upperclassman who could’ve burst in any minute.

Wonwoo isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too busy piecing together the ten year plan concocted since junior year of highschool to even think about such frilly ideas. There’s barely enough time as it is; you’ve got work, a full class schedule, TAing, and all the random clubs you’ve wiggled your way into to pad your resume.

And he’s busy too. Navigating a sports scholarship and one of the hardest majors left barely enough time for him to wipe his own ass, let alone date. Then came research hours and TAing and the fact volleyball, apparently, wasn’t just a one semester sport, there were scrimmages, workouts, and tournaments out of season.

It’s been over three years of your arrangement which works best because you don’t have to spend precious brain power deciphering if some random guy you went out with once is playing hard to get or just straight up not interested. You have Wonwoo. He’s simple.

So what you have now, friends. Who hook up. And work together. Who also happens to be applying for the same PhD program for next year. Not together but at the same time.

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror.

It’s still too early to submit any materials but it’s been highlighted in bold red in your calendar since two years ago. Everything is ready to go the second it opens—except Dr. Wagner’s recommendation. It’s the sole reason you (and Wonwoo) agreed to be her TAs this semester; she’s one of the program’s most notorious alum, her words as good as gold in securing a spot.

Someone hacks a cough and shatters the eerie silence of the library. The backtrack of sparse typing and the custodian shuffling around to have been the only company throughout your shift. No one would choose to rot at any of the weathered study tables late on a Friday night so early in the semester.

With the abundance of free time, you fixed Chan’s mistakes in his set of trials easily, no thanks to Wonwoo who still hasn’t shown up. It’s good though. Your stoichiometry homework is submitted three days before the deadline and the mountain of emails clogging your inbox from hopeless undergrads is in the single digits. Half the labs from last week are graded for Dr. Wagner’s approval, the other half can wait until Sunday night. A long weekend of sleep awaits once the clock hits eleven and you’re free to run home.

Wonwoo stumbless in five minutes before the clock runs out. His duffle for tomorrow is slung over his shoulder and he’s already dressed for bed, rumpled sweats and a hat he definitely wore to the party with high hopes to cut out early.

“You’re late,” you acknowledge, cramming your belongings back into your bag. He’s close enough to get a whiff of. “And you’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise but it isn’t an argument worth having. All you want to do is get home and pass out.

He shoulders you bag, presenting his hand when you insist you can carry it on your own. The dry warm of his palm against your cold is pleasant enough you don’t argue as you tug him towards the automatic doors.

“Have a goodnight, Mr. Lee,” you call towards the security desk.

The guard, old enough to be your grandfather, calls back, “You too, sweetheart.”

Out in the balmy night, you tug Wonwoo down the street in the direction of your apartment. Two blocks and then a right turn leaving you outside the dowdy building with hallways that constantly reek of weed and new paint smell.

A pack of freshmen girls heading somewhere, marked by their matching uniform of jeans and black tops of various coverage, crowd the sidewalk straight ahead. Someone is crying, one is on the phone, and a few others stand dumbly waiting for their next movie like zombies — all incredibly wasted. You barrel through them without acknowledgement. A few drunken bitter ‘bitch’s hit your back but you ignore them to focus on the man struggling to push through the crowd without accidentally shoulder checking any of them.

On the other side, you ask, “Have fun at the party?”

“Some pledge puked on Jihoon’s stuff,” he huffs, nose scrunching.

“May he rest in peace.”

Wonwoo sways from side to side from the weight of your bag but also whatever radioactive mix was served at the party. The stairs provide an extra challenge since the elevator has been broken for weeks but thankfully it’s a short trip to the second floor.

He presents your belongings with routine ease once the front door of your apartment looms ahead. Music from the floor above shakes the walls; hopefully you can make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow morning.

There isn’t much space inside the four walls you call home – the ‘kitchen’ which is a single counter with a stove and fridge you’re barely around to use, fifteen feet away your bed in the corner, bordered by your desk at the foot cramped with a spray of errant papers and books you’ve been too busy to deal with. The monitor doubles as a TV and finally a tiny loveseat with a broken leg replaced by a stack of hard covers completes the room.

You beeline for the bathroom to wash away the filth of a long day and Wonwoo, keeping on trend, follows into the cramped space.

“Can I help you?” you ask, shirt tossed into the bin in the corner.

Wonwoo’s shirt goes the same and then his pants after a brief struggle. “You know I sleep better when I shower.”

True.

“And I doubt you're gonna let me in your bed if I’m dirty.”

Even truer.

The water is still cold when you step in but the man glued to your back fights the worst of the chill away. Goosebumps prickle along your skin but have nothing to do with the vent that points directly into the stall (whoever designed the apartments must have had a sick sense of humor) and everything to do with Wonwoo’s mouth tracing the curve of your shoulder.

Forcing the heat blooming between your legs down to a simmer, you focus on washing up and getting into bed before it rolls into a boil and you do something stupid that’ll only leave you and Wonwoo struggling for balance.

Shower sex is a dangerous sport. Shower sex with Wonwoo has left you both with bruises. Drunken shower sex with Wonwoo will get you both killed.

Soft hums tickle your neck as you clean up. There isn’t enough room for two people to stand in the spray at once so you take turns hogging the steamy water and braving the frigid cold until the last bits of soap swirl the drain.

Even when drying off you stay in each other’s orbit until the need for clothes and sleep drive you both out of the bathroom and back into the equally cramped space of your room.

It’s not until you’re laying on the mattress, darkness snug on all sides, that you feel Wonwoo roll atop you with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo hums into your stomach, fingers crawling up your bare legs.

“That,” you inhale at the nip of his teeth on the curve of your thigh, “doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer but gives you plenty of time to brush him off while bruising your skin. You don’t. Instead you sink deeper into the blankets and let him push your shirt up until you're bare once more.

The fuzziness of alcohol lingers in his veins – just enough that he smiles into the strip of skin above your panties as you sigh and arch under the delicious weight of wandering hands and mouth at your nipple.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh and he’s up and kissing you with eager clumsiness.

A familiar prod at your core through his boxers crashes bubbles through your veins. You felt it in the bathroom but now is when you finally get to indulge with subtle grinds Wonwoo meets in his own search for friction.

“Don’t you need to be up—ugh—early tomorrow?”

He kisses you slowly, tongue dragging along your bottom lip until your mouth opens under his. It burns you from the inside out. Mindlessly you shift your legs to frame his hips better but Wonwoo kisses deeper and all you can think about is giving in to whatever scheme he’s working up to have you both naked and panting.

He leans back a fraction to speak, giving in when you chase his lips before ducking to nip at your ear and mumbling a response. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it when you snooze twenty alarms and your team hunts me down because I smothered their star player with a pillow,” you snort but heat under a squeeze of his fingers at your sides.

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

A harsh suck at your jaw has your stomach tight. heavy and thick until need drips down your spine to coil in your gut and the emptiness between your thighs becomes unignorable. He hides pleased groans in the curve of your neck until you force a hand under the band of his underwear. Eyes opening, you watch the muscles of his back tense and flex as he rocks against you, fucking your fist greedily.

It doesn’t last long. Wonwoo gets antsy under the taunting pressure of your thumb and descends back down your body with burning lips. “Take your shirt off.”

“It’s cold,” you complain but do as he asks.

He traces your figure clad in nothing but your glasses and a soiled pair of panties; damp at the crotch from his attention and Wonwoo slips a finger under the hem to tease you that inch closure to depravity.

Wonwoo laves against the hickey on the inside of your thigh from a week ago, it’s yellowed and perfectly shaped like his mouth. It’s tender under his attention, even the gentle tracing on his nose forcing you to wince in discomfort.

He coos, kissing it before skating back to the hem of your panties, lips vibrating against your skin. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Why he brings it up now is a mystery. Or the fact he brings it up at all. Life happens. You’ve blown him off more than once for a late night in the library; no hard feelings.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as he tugs the last scrap of fabric off your body and pushes your knees up to display you like a meal.

Spreading you apart, he lands a wet kiss at your entrance before teasing with the heat of his tongue.

In a beg for sanity you twist a tight grip in his hair; a tangled mess from his drunk endeavors. Wonwoo pushes harder, drowns in your taste with enthusiasm as you moan and sigh.

“F-fuck.”

He won’t ask if it’s good. He knows it is. Nearly four years of hook ups attunes him to your pleasure, a well rehearsed routine that has you both ache in the best way.

You lose yourself in shaking breaths, feet planted to drive up into his mouth for more. He sucks your clit and nearly gets his head crushed by your thighs. It doesn’t take much and he knows it.

You chant ‘gonna cum’ in choked groans that almost die at the edge of your teeth but Wonwoo hears and takes it as permission to pull out the stops, hand at your thing with a harsh grip and fingers sinking home.

He’s memorized all the signs of your want; the wrecked echo of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you a clear tell. He flattens his tongue, holding steady as grind straight into mindless bliss. Spit pools and drips and slips down onto the sheets. Wonwoo hums praise, unintelligible but you vaguely know it’s something that’d make you blush you could hear it over the pounding in your ears.

Back arching, your vision flares white at the edges and when Wonwoo realizes what's happening he makes it last until your fist ball up and you’re floating.

Wonwoo backs down as you twitch through the tail end, sloppy kisses to your clit that could knock into another fit if he isn’t careful. But even as you tremble the only thing you want is the weight of his cock in your mouth, or inside you. You aren’t picky as long as you get to feel him cum too.

You finally manage to pry Wonwoo from between your legs with an ankle to his ribs. You’re not done with him despite the fatigue hanging around your shoulders like dead weight. He angles over top of you for a kiss that tastes too much like pussy for your liking but it’s hot knowing he’s covered in you so you push until his shoulders meet the sheets and you can claim his lap.

His dick strains through his underwear, preening when you rock back into the heat. His nostrils flare when you grab for it, stiff enough to sink onto easily.

“Oh god,” he groans, head digging back into the pillows to watch you like a goddess.

His fingers web across the tops of your thighs, a harsh grip keeping you flat as he grinds up into the wet heat of your pussy. You whimper and sigh for him; all the sounds he loves to hear. You squeeze your chest, taut nipples framed between the slants of your fingers to entice him until he reaches around and knocks you forward for the sole purpose of taking one in his mouth.

Your eyes roll back, jaw locked open, drowning in the stretch and the bite of his mouth and the hands squeezing your ass so hard it hurts. Wonwoo groans, throaty and desperate. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum in you. Holy shit.”

He gets you on your back. Too absorbed in his own end, he’s dead weight with his tongue between your lips and harsh thrusts that take him right to the edge. It gives that grit against your clit that means you’ll come too, soaked in cum and spit and sweat.

You wish he’d flip you on your front and fuck you with a hand between you shoulder blades and the other tangled in your hair. That’s the kind of fuck that’d leave you satisfied the entire weekend he’s busy but he’s running out of steam just doing this, picking up speed in his thrust, the clap of bodies filling the room.

Chanting his name like a broken record, ‘Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo’ breathy but loud enough your neighbors will leave another passive aggressive note on your door come morning, all you can think about is his cum. On you, in you. A sick part wants him to pull out and cum on your face – he hasn’t, not in a long time because priorities and responsibilities and you're usually lucky to have even five minutes alone before someone needs either of you. But you want it. God do you want it.

“Cum on my face,” you whimper. There’s drool on your lips and sweat in your hairline. Even if he doesn't, you'll need another shower anyway.

A strangled noise escapes from between his teeth at your neck. Then he’s driving forward so hard you burn; painfully so, mouth locked in a silent choke. Your orgasm rips through your insides, jagged at the edges where Wonwoo fucks himself into your guts.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling away and replacing the grip of your pussy with a tight fist as he straddles your chest.

The taste of cock floods your tongue, heady and intoxicating. You get one, two drags against the stiff head and then he’s cumming, dripping his spend over your lips, then your cheek, then your glasses because he’s a sick freak. Even in the dim light from the window he twitches at the sight. You open your mouth and replace his hold, moaning as more comes to the surface. You swallow down as far as he’ll go which isn’t much in this position but it’s the thought that counts.

Wonwoo grinds to halt with an occasional kick of his hips that leaves you choking – rigid limbs locking in place until he melts with sticky satisfaction.

He’s up and off, your glasses in hand for a thorough cleaning, not even bothering to flick on any of the lights but you hear the sink running in the bathroom before he comes padding back.

“God,” you whimper in disgust. “That’s so gross.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Wonwoo snorts, soft passes of a damp cloth on your skin focused on getting you clean enough to sleep.

“Because it’s hot but you aim for shit.”

Wonwoo tosses the rag somewhere, flopping down and pulling you close as possible with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time I’ll aim for your hair.”

“Bitch.”

The sound of music from upstairs pulses through your head as you drift off, Wonwoo asleep on your chest, fingers laced together on the sheets beside your indecipherably intertwined bodies.

Your week is divided into a simple pattern. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you wake bright and early to attend Dr. Wagner’s chem lecture and then stay on campus attending every other class you could find to fill the gap between your evening shift at the library. Tuesdays and Thursdays are void of responsibility until your afternoon lab with the freshman near tears while learning basic titration for four hours, followed by office hours where said freshman finally come to actually cry about their grades. Those are the nights you, Chan, Wonwoo and a handful of other lab techs work on research that carries the same threat of waterworks.

It’s there Dr. Wagner pulls you and Wonwoo aside.

“I know you both are applying to Dr. Collins lab for your PhD studies,” she starts.

Her office reflects the same disarray as her personality; warm and lived in. Papers and exams are organized in chaos, thick stacks lining her desk waiting for you and Wonwoo to enter them into the online grade book. Books, some leather, some paperback, some the glossy cover of a textbook with cracked spines and yellowing pages are crammed into the bookshelves lining the walls until they threaten to collapse from the weight. It smells like coffee, plants, and the candle she always has burning. It’s a cozy hovel overlooking the rear courtyard of the science building that resembles the sterility of a hospital.

Wonwoo occupies the other barrel chair with worn upholstery. You’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks, too busy with volunteering and working and classes while his own responsibilities keep him so exhausted it’s truly a miracle he’s even here. Dark stains ring his eyes beneath his glasses and he looks paler than usual. You’ll ask about it tonight when he comes over to work on your most recent stoichiometry project (which will be forgotten in favor of passing out during a movie while you play with his hair if history is anything to go by).

“I don’t think I’ve ever met two students who belong more in his lab,” she continues.

You try not to preen, but academic validation is a hell of a drug to caffeine addicted undergrads. Wonwoo perks up too. Three and a half years of barely being people for this moment and it’s finally in reach.

“However,” Dr. Wagner clasps her hands atop the dark wooden desk. “I’m writing only one recommendation this semester. It might seem unfair but I want to commit to the student that deserves it the most since my schedule doesn’t allow me much free time.”

It’s like being underwater. You hear her words but nothing registers, blinking rapidly in case this is a hallucination from falling asleep in the lab again.

“I know it might not be the news you hoped for but I know senior year is a lot, especially for students as involved as you all, and I thought this could alleviate some of the stress. You two are the only students I’m considering. So please, keep up the incredible work and we can talk again at the end of the semester when I have a more holistic evaluation of your progress.”

She stands to leave, snagging her purse and blowing out the candle with finality before abandoning the shit storm in your lap for whatever else she has to do on a Thursday night. Probably retell the events of the last five minutes to other professors in the department, laughing at the way you’ve turned purple from holding your breath.

“Have a good night you two! See you tomorrow!”

The office, once warm, feels hollow. You feel hollow.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo hasn’t moved either, glued to his seat as he stares at Dr. Wagner’s now vacant chair with his mouth wide in shock.

“Did that just happen?” you scoff in disbelief. “Is she serious?”

Wonwoo collapses over his knees with his hands scrubbing at his face like he also might be hallucinating. “I needed that recommendation.”

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

“Did Changkyun say anything like this happened last year when she wrote one for him?”

“No, all three people who asked her got one.”

“Oh, so it’s just us she hates. Great!” you throw your hands up, sinking deeper in the chair. Maybe it’ll swallow you whole and the entire ordeal will cease to exist.

“She’s probably just trying to get in our heads so we don’t slack off this semester.”

“Have we ever slacked off any semester? I’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. You’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. We’re those people.”

Since starting college, since that one night during orientation where you and Wonwoo became a ‘we’. Not in the relationship sense, but in the way two lines merge. Same path, same goals, same classes, same PhD program prospects. There was plenty you two did separately but more you did together. Neither competing, but working together.

But now that’s over.

Because only one of you can get into Dr. Collins lab, only one of you can get the recommendation, and only one of you can have what you both worked tirelessly for over the past three years.

“Listen—” you stand up and scrub at your own face. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“We? Only one of us can get her recommendation. What’s there to figure out?”

Your face goes hot. He’s right. “Well, I need that recommendation.”

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

Wonwoo stays in her office, flinching as you slam the door and flee.

The issue with fighting with Wonwoo is that as mad as both of you are, there are a million responsibilities you share that require close proximity.

Presently, it’s grading the last batch of exams. Seventy eight packets. And because Dr. Wagner doesn’t believe in convenience, it all has to be graded by the hand of two TAs running on nothing but caffeine and spite.

Which means it’s past midnight and the couch has a permanent impression of Wonwoo’s ass while you both silently fume and scratch through wrong answers with a heavy hand in red ink.

The weather reflects the atmosphere; pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The power has flickered in and out since the rain started but you're both too stubborn to call it quits – if there is nothing to keep you occupied then you might rip his throat out.

Wonwoo doesn’t even ask if you want more coffee before he snags your empty mug and moves to the kitchenette. You don’t look up when he sets it back down, and only grab it and take the first sip of perfectly steaming hot sweetness when he flops back on the couch without another word.

Then the power goes out again, and doesn’t come back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Using the flashlight on your phone, you search the drawers of your desk for candles. There nowhere to be found amongst the stacks of unopened sticky notes and tangled cords.

Wonwoo shuffles behind you, papers landing on the coffee table completely abandoned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“I have them in here somewhere,” you bite, another handful of chargers and a stapled you’ve never used and other things you didn’t even realize you own fill the drawer. You move to the second. “There’s only a few tests left.”

“We can do them tomorrow. It can wait.”

“No,” you spit like a curse.

Whatever Wonwoo was planning to say dies on his lips. “Fine.”

His shirt lands over your head, you rip it off only to find him half naked in the dark, huddling under one of the throw blankets you keep on the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?”

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

“Well,” he draws like a pouty kid. “I don’t feel like sharing the bed with you.”

In a way it’s safer to argue about something trivial like this versus the entire reason you’ve iced each other out since that day in her office. Because at least like this, you won’t lose him. It’s stupid and petty but at least you’re speaking to each other; breaking through that wall of silence that’s been steadily growing more and more unnavigable as the inevitable draws nearer.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

It’s difficult to navigate in the dark. Your knees end up a victim to the edge of the coffee table and you trip over the edge of the rug, but you find the couch. Reaching down, you find his chest, then his shoulder. And once you’re sufficiently oriented you sit on him.

“Ow,” Wonwoo grunts as you flop down, elbow in his gut and his chin hitting your forehead. “What are you doing?”

You wedge in closer, slipping between his body and the cushions, bracing to kick him off by force if needed. “Sleeping.”

“Here?” he asks. Too aware of your plan, he turns as well, grabbing the back of the couch overhead to stay put.

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

“And we’re both too big to sleep here together. Take the bed.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

“No. N.O. I believe you’re familiar with the word,” you spit.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you keep talking then neither of us will sleep.”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep anyway. You move too much to be comfortable like this.”

He’s right of course. Your hips already ache but if you move then he’ll find some way to pull you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him.

The muscles corded around his pec twitch under your mouth as he flinches. “What the hell was that for?”

You do it again.

“Stop.”

“Or what?” you ask, muffled in his skin as you move to leave another bite.

Wonwoo also does the mature thing and pins your wrists in one hand, maneuvering until you're sandwiched between the couch with his chest flat to your back.

“I can’t breathe like this,” you muffle into the cushions.

“Oh, how tragic.” You feel his words tickle the back of your neck rather than hear them.

Wonwoo releases your wrists pinned to your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his shirt from some stupid frat fundraiser you’d been coerced into attending, flat to your belly with soothing circles. His calf hooks over your own to tangle your bodies together. He kisses the back of your neck, a simple brush of his lips that lingers.

It’s easier to feel everything in the dark. Your annoyance and frustration forged over the past weeks melts away and all that’s left is the need to have Wonwoo close. Just like this. Where there are no deadlines, or responsibilities. Where you both can drown in each others’ presence and everything else is washed away in the heavy drops pounding the windows outside.

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

The next rumble of thunder is loud enough to send you both in the air. Unfortunately, Wonwoo drags you backwards off the couch and to the floor. You land relatively unscathed but he knocks his elbow into the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

“Aw, tell the doctor where it hurts,” you coo, prodding his side.

He snatches your hand and pins it to his chest but not before lacing his fingers through your own. The gentle rise of and fall of breathing and the thud of his heart reverberates down your arm and straight into your own chest where something frozen softens. “Has anyone told you you’re annoying when you’re tired?”

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

Lighting turns everything white, a quick flash highlighting the room. There and gone and leaving you more disoriented than before. Rolling over, you hook a thigh over his lap which he welcomes, tugging you closer and absorbing the proximity like second nature. You’re a glutton for warmth – Wonwoo’s warmth specifically – even in his sweater and his sweat shorts and his shirt, you still want more of him.

“We can’t sleep like this.”

You don’t want to move – laying like this, in the dark, nose dug into his chest as you twisting your fingers in his, squeezing and glowing pathetically when he squeezes back – all you want is to drown in him a little longer. Until you're forced to come up for breath.

But the sore spot between you two is still raw like a fresh bruise.

“Then sleep in the bed,” his lips drags over your knuckles as he speaks.

“No. You sleep in the bed, you’re too tall to sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo jumps up from his place on the floor, grabbing your hands once again before dragging you around the coffee table towards the opposite side of the room. It’s ridiculously childish, especially in the dark where he bounces off the desk and the rug roughens the back of your legs.

He shimmies you around a corner and a cloud of laughter puffs between your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in the bed, and you’re sleeping in the bed with me.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep next to you?”

“Then I’ll cry. Like that time we watched Steel Magnolias.”

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

Deflating like a balloon, you stand. Wonwoo keeps his hands on you the entire time, guiding you down to the mattress and covering your body with his own just in case of an escape. He bunkers down in the safety of your neck, dragging your hands to his hair, mimicking the motions he craves until you take up the action and gently comb through the tangles.

A part of you wants to cry. Preemptively mourn the end of this – whatever this is. Late nights with Wonwoo, whispering in the dark about clueless underclassmen and annoying professors. Taking turns scrolling through adoptable cats at the local rescue. Cooing over them, rolling your eyes when Wonwoo finds Pixel still listed as available for adoption, a sign to him that he’s meant to have her except he lives in a frat house. Or the nights neither of you can sleep and take a trip to the local diner and tuck yourselves away in a corner booth to watch drunk people cling to consciousness over waffles and hash browns.

There will be no more of that. Not by the time winter break comes. One of you is getting the gold ticket and the other will be up in the air with the hundreds of other people competing for the same handful of slots. And if one of you doesn't get in?

“Was that so hard?” he whispers into your collar.

When you don’t answer, he looks up at. In the cast of lighting coming through the window he’s the same Wonwoo. The one you’ve been best friends with for years now. The one who is practically glued to your side whenever possible.

The one who you’ll have to say goodbye to.

He meets your kiss lazily. Like he still thinks you have all the time in the world.

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning.

The room glows from the orange light of the first minutes of sunrise. Sometime in the night you rolled to your side and Wonwoo pressed tight to your back. He’s awake, drawing shapes on your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Morning.”

You hum and roll over to burrow in his chest, the crown of your head digging into his neck and away from the sun. “Morning.”

The warmth of his hands trace the curve of your back, pulling you closer; hiding his own discontent with such an early break in the tentative truce that only seems to exist in the late hours of night and earliest minutes of dawn. Days of sleep deprivation with nothing but sterile lighting in the lab leaves you both needy and vulnerable. So he hugs you tighter and sighs when you do the same.

He’s hard against your thigh. Clearly a result of biology more than need because he’s snoring against your hairline. Flashes of dreams rush forward – him beneath you, on top of you, behind you. It’s been weeks since you two last fucked. When you called him an idiot and he called you stubborn and next thing you were on the table with your legs spread for Wonwoo’s hand in a clumsy bump and grind while arguing about which one of you fucked up the biosensor callibration through gritted teeth and needy whimpers.

You’re wet. With his thigh pressed between your own the fact becomes more evident as the urge to curl into it nags.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin beneath your mouth, you kiss and suck with lax intent until Wonwoo tips his chin up and gives a silent green light.

A heavy hand drags down his front, nails scratching bluntly through the fabric until it can slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and the curve of his cock sits pretty in your palm. Commando for convenience and comfort. More the latter because there’s no shot in hell he’s been getting laid lately.

His breath is sticky in his throat, vibrating beneath your teeth from thin pants as you work him through a loose fist. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

Slouching down, your head rests on his stomach, sweatpants bunched around his thighs. The first lick sends his hips up in search of more and you eagerly supply the soft suction of your mouth; lips catching around the flared head. A hand on the back of your skull keeps your hair from interfering as he plumps against your tongue.

Eagerness fails to penetrate this moment slowed down by the greater need to drag this out. To savor every second because who knows when you’ll both stop being petty enough to just enjoy one another’s presence again.

“Might cum—fuck— don’t stop,” he grunts.

With the sun filling the room even more you’re running out of time, the warmth growing to leave sweat at the small of your back. He pushes harder into the curve of your throat and you let him, gagging wet with a lewd mix of spit and pre-cum that has you both moaning at the choked sound. Jaw slack, Wonwoo fucks your mouth with slow ruts; stomach tightening and the hand in your hair fisting tight enough you moan.

“Shit, babe—c-cumming,” he whines with a pathetic groan you’d make fun of him for later but all you can think about is the thick taste of cum and if there’s enough time for some attention between your own legs before life becomes unignorable. Not enough time for a real fuck but Wonwoo has a few tricks up his sleeve that promise satisfaction.

You bounce back down next to him and Wonwoo pounces, rolling on top of you, thing between your spread legs. He doesn’t shy away from your tongue against his teeth, dips a thumb beneath your chin and slips his tongue right along with it, sucks your lips until the swell, backing off only to bunch your shirt up. Lazy drags of his mouth on yours – not the ‘I need you’ kisses after a late night but the ‘I miss you’ ones after weeks of passive aggressive silence.

He licks down your front, goosebumps blooming from the draft as he sucks a nipple until you arch and twist a hand in his hair. You give a lax stretch and sigh while his hand slips beneath the edge of your panties.

Taking the morning for what it is, you fall into the motions until the blare of the alarm clock signals the beginning of the end.

You push away and swipe blindly at the night stand to make it stop but Wonwoo has other plans.

He pins your hips down, tongue flat to the crotch of your underwear with a pant. “Ignore it.”

“What?” You look at him and find tired eyes watching back from over the edge of your wrinkled shirt. His hair is a mess, stuck to the side of his head from sleep and your eager hands and all you want to do is comb the tangles out while he pulls your strings like a puppet master.

But you can’t.

“We’ve got class,” you gasp through a hot kiss on your clit.

A groggy groan of, “skip,” vibrates on your skin.

Fingers curling in the sheets, you grasp for disagreement only to find a moan as he pulls your hips closer and works a finger where you need it most.

“We can’t.”

“We can,” Wonwoo grunts, focusing on peppering greedy kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. “We’ve been early every time this semester.”

The hand not curling in your guts runs down the back of your calf, bending until it hooks over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Wonu,” you whine over the crude sounds of his mouth. You want to. God, do you want to. But you open your eyes again and they land on the stack of exams on your desk. Ungraded. Because Wonwoo said you could do them this morning. And now he wants you to skip class despite how important it is.

You close your legs only for Wonwoo to take it as a challenge, pinning your hips in place and celebrating his perceived victory with a throaty moan as he rocks against the bed.

“Stop.”

He pulls back, mouth wet and brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The alarm on your phone pings again. Swiftly silenced this time as you roll out from beneath him and land beside the mattress on unsteady feet. “We can’t skip. We have to give exams back.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argues, flopping down into the warmth you left vacant.

The room is too bright, a clear sign your morning routine is behind. “You think now is the time to start slacking off?”

“It’s not slacking off.” Wonwoo snags his glasses. He looks more annoyed with them. “It’s a break. You clearly need one.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it. I’m not arguing with you about stupid shit.”

“And what's stupid shit? The job we signed up for? With the professor who controls our futures?”

Wonwoo fixes his pants and rolls out of bed. On the opposite side. As far away from you as possible. “Whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

You slam the bathroom door shut with finality. When you come back out, any trace of Wonwoo is long gone.

There aren’t many people in class. A benefit of Halloweekend is the partying starts Wednesday and doesn’t stop until the following week. Even with last night's rain plenty of students are battling hangovers which leaves a third of the usual lecture attendance to witness you and Wonwoo go head to head while Dr. Wagner sits at home with a mysterious illness she announced in an email three minutes after nine AM.

The few that are there snag their papers, lips curled in disgust at the plethora of red ink spilled on white pages. Their own faults for not paying attention during lecture but maybe the scarlet gashes were a little dramatic. Wonwoo’s jaw is tight, pointedly ignoring you except to hand exams over that someone is waiting for with dread in their eyes.

You could’ve skipped. It wouldn’t even count as skipping because class is canceled and there’s no award for hauling ass at the crack of dawn when your advisor isn’t even here to see it. You could be tucked away in your apartment with him under your skin; firmly in the place between dreams and waking where you liked him best, nothing but warm skin and rough hands with his lips on your hairline and your head burrowed in his chest.

There are too many witnesses to just drop the act and wrap your arms around him from behind until he gives in. Apologize for the stupid shit he rightfully called you out on. But as your courage grows with each student’s exit, Wonwoo makes to leave before you can make use of it.

Barely an hour of fighting and it already feels like an eternity.

“Hey,” you call.

He freezes by one of the desks near the back of the room, like he’s shocked you’re even there in the first place. But he doesn’t turn around; just tilts his head so you know he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“Sorry about this morning. I-I think the stress is getting to me.”

And the fact that I can’t be mad at anyone besides the universe for this incredibly shitty situation. And I miss you. Even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” you fidget with the strap of your bag; a million pounds heavier even without the weight of ungraded tests that Wonwoo snatched before you could divide the remaining work.

He turns around, eying you with an exasperated look. “What else should I say? You called me a slack off and implied I don’t do my job.”

“I didn’t,” you argue but it’s salt in the wound because—

“You did.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. I’ll finish grading the exams over the weekend.”

And then you're alone.

You’re alone in the study room you both usually occupy to work on the Nanochemistry project due at the end of term. The shared document has updates, the blink of his cursor mocking your from wherever he hunkered down. Away from you. The temptation to type ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again disappears once he logs out barely a minute after you logged on.

You’re alone at the circulation desk of the library through your shift, head whipping around to every squeak and cough only to find someone who isn’t Wonwoo. There’s an email from him, to Dr. Wagner with you CC’ed, about class averages and exam questions that should be thrown out.

You walk home alone. Other students in various states of dress and intoxication crowd the sidewalks, a few you recognize but they feel a million miles away.

Alone in your apartment, the two mugs from last night clean in the sink.

The good part of being alone is when you start crying, no one is there to see.

It’s near midnight and the chill of the breeze whipping down the street bites at your exposed skin. Already the should-be-condemned frat house pulses with life, the promise of a long night ahead thrumming through the symphony of drunk screams and music.

It’s not unusual for you to attend frat parties. Wonwoo’s favor guarantees free booze and a perch at the top of the staircase where underclassmen are barred from entering. But you’ll settle for watching drunk underclassman stumbling over the front lawn from one of the couches on the front porch (which are so broken in, no one sinks into the cushions – they just fall straight down until the worn springs catch them) because the inside of the house is too hot, and too crowded, and far too loud.

A hail Mary apology is the only thing on your mind. Yesterday had been the nastiest spat in recent history between you two; notwithstanding sophomore year when Jeonghan asked you for tutoring and Wonwoo insisted on helping. “Helping” meant cutting off every question Jeonghan dared ask with a series of snorts and huffs until you left and refused to talk to him for a week.

He’d apologized in the most Wonwoo fashion – completing your Thermodynamics assignments for the rest of the semester and before going down on you until you threatened to kick him in the head through sensitive sobs.

Wonwoo is here – somewhere. Shuffling up the past, past the line of eager party goers looking for a way in, you scan the front porch, he’s not in his usual waiting spot to whisk you upstairs where the older members hang out with better drinks and better music. Not that he would be. He doesn’t even know you considered coming to this.

Instead, poor Chan, dressed in yellow and black stripes, mans the door with pilot Jihoon by his side.

“Jihoon,” you greet, before looking at the younger man. “Speed bump.”

Chan mumbles something under his breath but lays on the ground regardless. When Wonwoo went through the same hazing you only got a few chances to enjoy the ridiculousness before he dragged you upstairs and shut you up himself.

“Can you not torment the kids?” Jihoon grunts.

“I could. But, where’s the fun in that?”

“Your boyfriend is inside. If you see Jun, tell him it’s his turn to watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Stepping over the underclassman still laying on the ground, you head inside and straight for the packed kitchen to get a drink. There’s barely any space between the hoard of bodies, forcing you to shuffle forward everytime there's a gap in the crowd; but it’s more like swimming against a rip tide.

It’s difficult to see with nothing but a few strobe lights and some strings of Christmas lights to clear the dark. One glance up towards the upper landing of the staircase is all it takes to find him right next to Mingyu. Matching costume, two bean poles standing out from the crowd of shorter men. Mingyu makes a brief nod in your direction but before you can see Wonwoo turn you’re off into the kitchen.

It’s an even tighter fit in here. A pledge pours drinks from a cooler, for a brief second you’re tempted to indulge. The last time you did, freshman year, you ended up crying in Wonwoo’s room mid-hookup. You scan the slim pickings and settle on an unopened beer. The shots you took while getting ready are already catching up.

Forced between anxious isolation and drinking, a few of your friends come up and briefly make conversation. You feign interest, eying over their heads for a familiar mop of dark hair without success.

A few guys stop to compliment your costume. They give themselves away in glazed heavily lidded stares, single minded focus on your legs. They ask what your major is, boast their status as pledges to your disinterested grimace, and move on when you finally put them out of their misery and fib about your “boyfriend” being “president or something” but “I don’t pay attention to those things,” and they all disappear significantly paler than when they first appeared.

You bite the bullet of your pride and turn to leave, only to find Wonwoo barely an inch away.

His eyes burn over your figure, the short toga covering just enough for you to avoid public indecency. Good. It’s the entire reason you wore this stupid costume in the first place. He’s a horny loser for nerdy shit and this is the best thing you could’ve worn other than one of those video game character costumes forcing your boobs in your throat and leaving you at serious risk for public indecency.

It’s not the first time you’ve wrapped yourself in barely enough fabric to constitute an outfit for the sake of his forgiveness and it probably won’t be the last.

Wonwoo pins you to the counter with his hips, hands bracketing your figure on either side. The green hat with an ‘L’ is lopsided on his head but at least he didn’t wear the fake mustache. “So, what is your costume?” he hums into the space just below your ear with a kiss.

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

“And if I get it right?” he asks, lips at your ear.

Heart pound, you ditch the beer and reach for his hips with purpose. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Think of it as my apology for being a huge bitch yesterday.”

He sighs into your neck, arms tight around your waist in a loose semblance of a hug. It’s a farce. Your ass meets the counter with minor effort and Wonwoo claims the space between your legs before you can pretend to object.

He still hasn’t kissed you.

You want more than kisses. You want to feel him, all of him. Want to drag him to the living room serving as a makeshift dance floor and sink into the heat of his body pressed flat against your own for everyone to see. You want to pull him into that closet off the main hall, familiar from that hot night of freshman year when a drunk make out turned into a timid fingering and eventually Wonwoo handing over his first time on a silver platter. Or even run back to your apartment, pluck through the leftover Halloween candy you bought on discount and watch whatever horror movie has become his recent obsession. You just want him.

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

Pressed this close on the sticky counter, his body is the only thing protecting what little of your dignity is left. Even then, there's enough of the slippery warmth of alcohol to tempt you into rutting against him right here for those stupid pledges to see. “Mingyu is an idiot.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “The rubber chicken gave it away.”

You shake it at eye level. “Behold, man.”

“Lame,” his kissing gets bold down the shaft of your neck, teeth scraping your collarbone.

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

He doesn’t resist you when you nuzzle along the bare parts of his neck, a tease of soft kissing usually reserved for quiet moments tucked away in your apartment. Even in the chaos of the party, body heat turning the air uncomfortably warm, you crave more of his closeness.

His hands feel nice on your legs. None of the timid gentleness of years prior when he’d touch you like it’d burn if he wanted it too much; trailing higher and higher but never under the short hem of the bedsheet turned dress. His fingers flex into the muscle at the outside of your thigh, hook behind your knees and drag you to the edge of the counter.

You're sweating through your own skin when he kisses you.

The need in your gut blooms at full force. Your mouth loosens, welcoming his tongue and teeth and whatever else he’s generous enough to give while you tug at the loose fabric around his hips to force more close proximity; the zipper of his pants is hot against your core and if you fucked him right here it wouldn’t look that different than the PG-13 make out happening right now.

“Wanna show me your room?” You blink like some moony eyed freshman, glassy, pupils blown from vivid images of all the possibilities in the solitude upstairs. Wonwoo is fine with the game of whatever your apology entails even if it means you throw cheesy lines like that.

He ushers you off the counter, flat to your back as he pushes through the crowd with you ahead. Even in a drunken haze people part out of his way because of the mastery of resting bitch face only he seems to have despite the complaint putty that lies behind it. A private smile splits your lips. He can’t be that mad. Not with how he pulls you closer, in the protective way he so often does in the buzz of a single minded crowd with more alcohol in their veins than blood.

Mingyu is standing on the landing. Girls in scraps of fabric eye him up and down, even in his stupid costume with the mustache but he ignores them in favor of pouting straight into a red cup.

“Why is your boyfriend moping?”

“Fuck if I know.” Wonwoo focuses on sucking another bruise on your neck like no one's watching.

You’re loose enough not to care about Mingyu’s annoyance as Wonwoo ushers you by. “Cheer up buttercup, I’m sure there’s a Peach here into charity fucks!”

It’s meant to be encouraging, but Mingyu looks like he’s torn between strangling you and throwing himself over the banister.

Maybe you did lie about being Wonwoo’s girlfriend, but he is president and his room is the biggest and furthest away from chaos. Up on the top floor where the music isn’t as loud and the only people on this floor are other members and their guests for the night.

Wonwoo pushes you inside, kicking the door shut loud enough you wince before crowding you against the wood. You throw his hat away somewhere into the darkness, hand twisted in his hair as he kisses you. Sloppy and gross until he rocks into the softness of your stomach, gasoline on the flame.

“Turn around.”

He barely gives you enough space to do so, pressing you flat once again, cheek squished to the door and a rough pull at your waist.

“If you’re thinking about touching my asshole, don’t. I have shit to do tomorrow,” you warn.

On the other side of the door you hear footsteps but they pass by without stopping.

“Noted, but not what I’m going for,” he jokes.

Your skirt flips up and a draft against the damp crotch of your panties sends a tremor straight through your core. “Share with the class.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

“I can call you some other things,” you grit, pushing back into the heat of his covered cock. “They aren’t as nice though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.”

He’s a little bit of a freak. Sometimes he enjoys fucking you in nothing but your underwear and others he wants you in everything but. Maybe because of how this entire thing started; when you wouldn’t even take your bra off and he survived on the barest flash of nipple.

The flimsy soiled fabric barely passes your knees before he’s on you again, easily tempted by the arch of your spine. You hum content as he presses a finger into your cunt, then two. His other hand forces the neckline of your dress down and lo-and-behold your lack of bra delights like you knew it would.

Whatever bright idea that fluttered in Wonwoo’s brain is forgotten as he spins you back around for an eyeful of naked skin; a mouthful of your chest and your leg hooked around his hip for a pathetic dry hump into the heel of his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan with extra emphasis and a caved stomach because there’s teeth and he makes it hurt. “Kiss me.”

Another rut into your thigh and his teeth are back at your bottom lip. It’s not exactly what you anticipated when you showed up tonight but there are far worse places than having a doorknob in your back while Wonwoo leaves a hickey below your ear; a perfectly good bed ten feet away but neither of you can be bothered to move much more than forcing Wonwoo’s pants down enough his cock leaks in your grip, head nestled at your entrance.

You surprise him by sinking to your knees. Head tipped back against the door, you tilt your mouth open to welcome him on your tongue. Wonwoo stares down at you; tits out, hand between your legs as you suck his cock in quick motions until he takes over and fucks into the curve of your throat.

“Holy s-shit,” he hisses and you flatten your tongue to help him along. It feels good; seeing him reduced to so little just from the wet suck of your mouth on him.

A choked gag forces Wonwoo back into his body, hips curving away so you can swallow air before leaving a sloppy kiss on the tip. Seizing him in a tight grip, you use the spit to jerk him off until he cringes with another pathetic moan.

Someone giggles in the hallway, close enough you both hear. They’re far enough away you can still whisper to Wonwoo. “Remember that time we fucked in here last year?”

“When you almost got us killed?”

Last year, at the same party, when you showed up in a skin tight Shego costume, Wonwoo pulled you to the only available room: Seungcheol’s. It’d been hot. Fucking when you aren’t supposed to, having Seungcheol pound at the door while Wonwoo came down your throat (no condoms and no hope to clean up).

“Do it again.”

His hand creeps into a loose collar around the base of your throat. You keep rubbing between your legs, working up a slick slide until your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

“Really?” There’s no need for muffling the noise when it's his room and the only people at risk of hearing anything have done far worse. He pulls you to your feet, forces your cheek against the door and slides right behind you. Like he was made for you.

“Choke me,” you gasp before digging into the sick part of your brain that likes seeing him strung out, extra breathy just to see his eyes go wide. “Sir.”

Your skin sticks to the door, shamefully squeezed as he drags his cock through the mess of your pussy. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

“Because what?” you goad. “Gonna punish me?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Show up wearing this,” he grits, tugging at the white fabric bunched around your waist, using the hand on your throat to squeeze your cheeks tight with authority you drool for. “Asking to be choked and now you probably want me to spank you and call you a good girl.”

You grunt through the raw thrust at your gut, sending your head back from sheer enthusiasm. “N–not my fault you fuck me so good.”

Wonwoo almost can’t control himself, hearing nothing but praise fall from your mouth as he fucks you limp against the door. “God.”

Someone screams, “Leave room for Jesus!” from the other side of the door and you almost rip it open to kill them if Wonwoo wasn’t dragging you to the bed.

He folds you onto your front, both standing at the foot of the bed. A deep roll of his hips and you’re filled completely.

“O-oh, fuck me,” you moan, uncaring if the idiot outside the door is still listening. Wonwoo has a hell of a hand and puts it to use against the curve of your ass. The coil in your gut pulls taunt as he delivers one after another.

He fucks deeper, a the hand not burn against your bottom between your shoulders. “You look so good— ah —taking my cock like this.” His voice waivers with the same stunted rhythm of his hips.

“W-want,” you choke on spit, drooling into the comforter. “Wanna taste you.”

The animalist need to suck both your flavors off his cock nearly sends you into a fit but Wonwoo’s there, hooking his hand back around the front of your neck with a subtle squeeze. You want the stupid dress off, you want Wonwoo’s clothes off, you want to fuck him where there’s no one around to catcall in the hallway like twelve year old boys. Want. Want. Want.

What you get is enough pressure from his fingers that your mind blanks. Wonwoo gets a tight enough squeeze on his cock that he’s forced to a grinding halt.

Then his rhythm goes deeper, harder. Course curls against the resistance of your ass until you almost collapse against the edge of the bed. His cock hits that spot like it was made for your body. “Touch yourself.”

You comply without further command. You’re wet, soaked, arousal smeared down your thighs from Wonwoo’s treatment. Your fingers bump against his length as you match the pace of his strokes. “Fuck, Wonwoo — hmmm.”

“Tell me how it feels,” he gasps like it’s his first breath in hours.

“Wet, so wet,” you croon, arching harder, joints locking. “Gonna cum. Oh my god.”

He reaches low, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and pulling it to his mouth for a taste. His tongue slides between your digits, liquid slick with a soft suction your crave on your clit.

“Beg for it.” Wonwoo bites your shoulder hard enough you cry.

Stuffing your hand back between your legs, you play with your clit clumsily. Until pink crowds the edge of your vision and it hurts. “Please, please! I need—Want it. Wanna come for you. Please, sir.”

Wonwoo strains to hear your pleas over the clap of bodies. He’s worked you near the middle of the bed, practically laying on top of you as he fucks in quick succession.

“Harder, fuck me,” you demand. “Yes, yes, y–yes!”

If you were on top you’d fall straight off, jerking tightly under Wonwoo’s weight, turning your face to greet his tongue between your teeth and mewling sensitivity. He doesn’t show mercy, continuing to fuck you through the worst of it.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, head throbbing. Wonwoo forces you back on your knees and you fight through sore muscles and sensitivity to preen under the weight behind his hips.

“Can I come in you?” he asks in a shivery breath.

You nod with closed eyes, tugging the hand around your throat to your lips and sucking his fingers like it’s a cock. He finishes with a choked breath, flooding your insides with sticky warmth you’ve never gotten used to in all the months you’ve fucked without condoms.

His breath fans against the nape of your neck, another swivel of his hips from the sensitivity. Your walls squeeze as Wonwoo pulls away.

You roll onto your back with a bounce, Wonwoo jostling you when he joins. Shoulder to shoulder, you stare up at the ceiling while catching your breath. “Do you think you’ll pop a boner when your students call you a sir next year?”

Wonwoo heaves a long breath, amusement in his voice. “I come inside you and that's the first thing you think of?”

Immediately you regret the joke. Since Dr. Wagner’s announcement weeks ago neither of you had broached on the topic of what happens after graduation. Mostly from fear. But also because it’s a long discussion you’re not exactly sure what you want out of.

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

The bed shifts beneath your knees as you crowd over Wonwoo, laying with his arms behind him to keep from sinking flat. The tired lines of his face look deeper in the lamp light. He’s nothing more than a big softie that wants to cuddle half naked in his bed while you play with his hair until sleep finds its place.

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

“Wow, just like old times,” you snort. “Should I start crying? Then it’ll be just like freshman year all over.”

Wonwoo laughs, his hand snatching yours and lacing your fingers together. “You wore a bra and bunny ears freshman year so if you’re gonna whip that out too – by all means.”

“God, we were so lame,” you announce matter of factly. Crying in lingerie and animal ears in one of the supply closets downstairs all because—

“Don’t rope me into that, miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’.” Wonwoo rolls on top of you, hoping to silence whatever argument bubbling in response with a teasing press of his lips. You're still sticky with sweat and spit and cum, nipples and pussy out and the thought of his dick, limp against your thigh, makes you sensitive all over.

“That’s former miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’,” you trail off into his mouth. “And you’re one to talk. Remember the time you cried about how happy you were that we were friends.”

He bites your lip in retaliation. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have the video from Mingyu.”

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

You might consider staying the night if he keeps tracing his nose along the arch of your collarbone. But a shrill giggle and some pornographic moans ring through the walls of the neighboring room. Not the side Seungkwan occupies. Hoshi’s. And it’s only the start.

“We can’t sleep here.”

Wonwoo collapses, tugging you with him. “I can’t ditch again, I’m on pledge duty.”

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

“Okay, technically I’m on pledge duty.”

He wouldn’t stay here if he wasn’t required. Wonwoo hates party nights, especially Halloween. Too many variables requiring all hands on deck; too many needy people demanding his presence for some issue that could’ve been handled if they used their brain to think farther than the tip of their nose. Rarely, if ever, does he sleep in his own bed when you have a perfectly good one tucked away in a private apartment without thirty other men tripping over each other.

“Well, I’m not sleeping with that.” On cue, another whimper, clearly a man’s, breaks through the tentative silence. Are they fuck against the shared wall?

Wonwoo sighs, scrubbing his face before moving for his phone. “I’ll send one of the kids to walk you.”

“Wow, a pledge escort. How thoughtful,” you sneer.

He huffs again, unwilling to start a fight that’ll leave neither of you satisfied. “Text me when you get home.”

You don’t.

There is an unspoken habit between you and Wonwoo that Sunday mornings are spent at the only reasonably priced coffee shop just near your apartment. A charming hole in the wall, with hanging shelves displaying layers of tchotchkes, paintings lining whatever free space between them, and wobbly tables with equally unbalanced chairs. It’s always packed because the coffee is decent and they have outlets. After last night, you hope he’s too exhausted to even think about showing up.

Mugs click against dark lacquered tables, the dull murmur of conversation churns over the music swelling softly through the speakers. The smell of pastries and espresso wake you enough to slide into a vacant table in the corner and set to work.

Or you would’ve if someone didn’t sit down first.

“Oh.”

Wonwoo already has a mug and a little brown bag as he looks up at where you stand dumbly.

“I can just go…sit somewhere else…” You turn to leave, except there are no other tables. Couples and groups claim every single seat except the one across from Wonwoo.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m mad at you.”

He unpacks his laptop, shaking his head. “You’re not mad at me.”

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize.

“You’re a bad liar.”

Neither of you are good at lying. Even worse at fighting. Incapable of committing to real anger when it takes all your energy to stand up straight and not fall asleep in a pile of ungraded papers and half finished assignments. Besides, you're only pouting because he passed up a night at your place to clean up pledge vomit.

You can’t tame the annoyed grin cracking your face. “Fine, I’m not that mad at you. Buy my forgiveness in the form of coffee.”

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

“I can only hope,” you sigh, arms cradling your head against the hard wood of the table while he joins the queue at the register.

Wonwoo orders your drink and a cheesy pastry the size of your head, the smell of greasy carbs first thing in the morning softening the ice in your veins. He knows your weaknesses too well.

“Is this penance?”

“Something like that.” He tears the crispiest corner off and pops it into his mouth.

“Did you look at the study guide for Calc yet?”

Two hours later you approach the counter for a second round of coffee and snag one of the jammy tarts Wonwoo likes but rarely buys for himself. Whatever chaffs between you two melts under the constant stream of note checking; Wonwoo’s hand on your knee under the table helps too.

“If I look at this anymore, I’ll run into traffic.”

“We’ve got the Nano project that needs some work,” you suggest.

He stretches wide, a sliver of skin visible between the hem of his sweater and the band of sweat pants. “I’ve got practice in an hour. We can do it tonight when I’m done.”

You try not to stare and instead return to focusing on the screen of your laptop burning your retinas.“I’m tutoring Seungkwan.”

“After?”

“He’s gonna be a bitch and the last thing I wanna do is look at more school stuff.”

“Then no school stuff,” he decrees with finality. “I’ll bring mushroom pad thai from that place on Market.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

You hum a dismissal but watch him through your lashes. He looks good – washed in late afternoon glow, hair a mess with glasses and a sweater that hangs off his shoulders. It all screams ‘drag me to bed and nap the rest of the day’ which is trouble for you because you still want to be mad at him if only to see how fair he’s willing to go for your forgiveness.

“We can watch Yellowjackets,” he barters, packing his bag.

Another group eyes your table with hope to claim it the second it’s available. Sadly, your ass is firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. With or without Wonwoo.

“You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”

“I cannot sleep in that house,” he deadpans. “Please take mercy.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for a place to sleep. Even after I wore that stupid Halloween costume?”

He pauses, eyes glazing like it’s a distant memory and not less than twenty four hours ago. “You looked hot.”

“You made that pretty clear.”

“Anyway, I’ll come over after practice. You can bitch about Seungkwan until you pass out.”

“Fine, but if there is no pad thai then don’t come.”

“Whatever my woman demands,” he snorts, dropping a kiss to your lips before turning towards the door.

Two hours and another coffee later, Seungkwan occupies Wonwoo’s abandoned chair. There’s no reason for him to be taking an intro chem class as a Creative Writing major other than the fact he’s a bit of a masochist. He’s not half bad at it and doesn’t really need any tutoring but you get paid for showing up even if it’s complete silence as you pick your nails until he needs something.

You’re marking through his latest attempt when he finally speaks up, “You're dating Wonwoo, right?”

Red pen scratches through the edge of the paper. “What?”

“You and Wonwoo.”

What is the absolute configuration of the two carbon atoms in this compound? More red ink.

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes with exasperation, like you’re on the outs of some obvious joke. “Dating.”

If an alkene has 24 hydrogen atoms, how many carbon atoms does it contain? Another X.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

When 10 g of 90% pure lime stone is heated completely, the volume (in litres) of is liberated at STP is… Wrong, again. Which makes no sense because Seungkwan is good at this level. He’s fucking with you on purpose.

“Huh,” he comments, grabbing the worksheet back from your claws.

“‘Huh’ what?”

“I heard a rumor he had a girlfriend last night, that’s all.”

It's not the first time someone assumed there's more between you and Wonwoo then there actually is, your fib last night clearly fanned the flames of even more speculation. But neither of you date; not enough time, willpower, or patience to entertain someone around packed schedules. If you and Wonwoo didn’t have the same life within the chemistry department then you’d never see each other. It’s convenient as it can possibly be.

Maybe at one point there was. Summer of sophomore year when he studied abroad in Spain and the usual substance of correspondence morphed from memes and jokes to something softer; I miss you’s and you’d like it here’s. Late night phone calls that lasted hours, refusing to hang up first until one of you fell asleep and the other finally canceled the call.

But the opportunity to tip over the edge came and went without coalescing into whatever was on the other side.

Seungkwan can pretend it’s an innocent suggestion but he stares you down until you crack with your own curiosity. “Who told you that?”

“Some pledges said they accidentally hit on his girlfriend. I don't even think he knows another girl beside you. Plus you were at the party last night.”

Stupid fuckers, you mutter under your breath. “We’re not dating.”

“But you guys are always together.”

“We work together. You and Vernon are always together, are you two fucking?”

“My room is next to his and it doesn’t sound like work to me.”

“How does me failing you sound?” you spit.

Seungkwan doesn't so much as flinch at the threat but returns to the practice sheet with a smile nonetheless.

Typically, fall break is spent hidden away in a pile of blankets with you and Wonwoo alternating movie choices throughout the weekend. Dead Poets Society (him), When Harry Met Sally (you), Over the Garden Wall (him), Fantastic Mr Fox (you), and so on and so on.

This year, you have a strong feeling Dr. Wagner’s favorite pastime is seeing her TAs squirm. It’s the only explanation for the unique brand of humiliation she subjects you and Wonwoo to. Tonight, Friday and technically your first night off for the long weekend, she decides to engage in a new sort of torture. A fancy dinner that neither of you could ever hope to afford, and even as her treat, you still eye the menu prices nervously.

But Dr. Collins sits across the table, in the flesh, so you pull out the skills you learned in the ridiculous theater class you took freshman year to “diversify” your transcript and smile through the anxiety.

Wonwoo does a little better; in a button up you’ve only seen him wear a handful of times when his usual wardrobe is sweatshirts and free shirts from campus events, he looks more comfortable than you feel.

“Jill, tells me you both work on Epitranscriptomic mapping in her lab?” Dr. Collins asks after another sip of his drink. Two whiskeys at dinner.

It’s not an official interview. Not anything close to it, according to your advisor. Nothing is set in stone, even if Dr. Collins laughs at Wonwoo’s awkward jokes and nods enthusiastically to your stories about working in the library (he also worked in the library in undergrad, but used it to nap more than actually work). But it feels like a step in the right direction.

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo and you nod in tandem.

Dr. Wagner’s research focuses on how different RNA modifications vary across various cell types and states. It’s high level stuff that no one but Wonwoo understands when you rant about the broken Cellraft machine. And his complaints about NovaSec’s constant crashes that leave him without work fall on deaf ears except when they’re directed at you.

Half the reason you two started speaking during orientation is because the overly enthusiastic intern asked what people were looking forward to the most during school. You and Wonwoo were the only ones who seemed to think she meant school-related and not where to buy a fake ID. Apparently, the best person to get a fake ID from was a junior in Dr. Wagner’s lab that year. Go figure.

“I’ve seen you two listed down the line as co-authors,” he nods.

The waiter brings dessert, spiced toffee cakes and ice cream. You’re starving but the knot in your stomach from when you sat down is even tighter and all you can do is pick at the plate.

“Well, Y/N does a lot of the troubleshooting for the RNA degradation issues,” Wonwoo shares.

Your face heats at the unexpected but not undeserved compliment. Dr. Wagner’s work isn’t cheap and the thought of wasting valuable money, money that could line the pocket of an extra set of hands, forced you to run a tight ship. The other researchers in her lab could say what they wanted behind your back but Dr. Wagner nods with fondness and you try not to preen.

“We’d be a mess if it wasn’t for her,” Dr. Wagner agrees. “The lab techs should write her a card.”

Not wanting to leave him out, you shoot a look to your left where Wonwoo pulls at the napkin in his lap. “Wonwoo is the one that made sure the parameters made sense for the last publication.”

“Also true.” Dr. Wagner smiles. “I told you, Harry, they’re my best students. Excel a mile past my TAs last year. They work together exceptionally well. If I could keep them both for next year, I would.” She says it with finality. There might very well be an opportunity to stay here and continue in her lab, even if your ambition has outgrown the place you’ve called home for four years.

The table is cleared, your plate full of mashed cake and melted ice cream with not a single bite missing. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally; physically from the three all nighters you’ve pulled this week. There’d be an earful from Wonwoo about the dangers of sleep deprivation (hypocrite) but he looks like he’s seen a ghost tonight and won’t sleep himself.

Dr. Collins glances at his watch with a muffled yawn, “My, my! Look at the time! My apologies I didn't mean to keep us all out so late. I know you two probably have far more interesting things to be doing than spending the evening with a couple old timers like us.” He winks at Dr. Wagner, who rolls her eyes and hands the check back to the waiter who can’t be more than nineteen. “It looks like I’ll have some tough decisions to make in the upcoming weeks. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Hands shakes all around, and an awkward shuffle at the door and Dr. Collins and Dr. Wagner disappear into the night, leaving you and Wonwoo alone on the long walk back to campus.

You don’t beeline to your apartment for a debrief. Or even to ignore the obvious awkwardness cracking between. A bench to the side of the campus green is where you find yourselves, across from the fountain that upholds the tradition of drunken seniors taking a dip during finals when they’ve given up.

You want to drown in it.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper. “What happens if one of us doesn't get in?”

“I–I don’t know.” He peers down at you with what you think is grief and the white noise that follows his quiet admission chokes painfully. There’s no plan B for something like this

If you got in, then Wonwoo did too. An unfounded assumption that wherever you went he’d be there too, based on almost four years of something between you. Too much to be friendship but too scared to call it something else. Something more. All the stereotypical college firsts had been with him or witnessed by him, you assumed grad school would be the same.

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw.

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either.

“You think I’d hate you?”

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.”

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.”

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment.

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete.

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored.

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow.

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist.

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap.

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry?

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?”

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.”

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt.

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too.

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit. You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?”

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.”

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more.

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?”

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly.

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss.

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical.

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts.

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it. “That sucks.”

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad’s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460

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echstacy00 · 1 month ago

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LATE NIGHTS: nicholas alexander chavez

18+smut!!!

(completely obsessed with his side profile can you tell?)

[12;45am]

“your nose is so pretty."

you find yourself mumbling at your boyfriend before your brain can even overthink those words and yet you're glad you didn't hesitate.

there's absolutely no reaction from nicholas for a whole minute as you absentmindedly trace his sharp features with your fingers, not quite able to handle just how handsome he is.

you've been observing his side profile for a while now and every time your eyes found their way to his nose, you couldn't help but bite your bottom lip at the mental image of its tip nudging against your clit whenever he's got his face buried in your cunt.

nicholas has been trying to memorize his new script for about an hour now and despite wanting to give him some space, you simply couldn't resist the craving of being close to him.

it's not like he minds your presence at all; nicholas loves having your legs in his lap and your hand in his hair, playing with the soft beautifully light brownish strands as he enjoys his daily screen time away from all of his incone responsibilities.

usually you're quick to fall asleep, yet this time you seem to focused on him to even let the actual thought of sleep cross your mind.

you know it's because you can't stop thinking about your boyfriends lips, his hot tongue and his perfect nose, your head full of thoughts about how good he makes you cum over and over again once he's gotten a taste.

whereas nicholas remains absolutely clueless. he's also a little too focused to pay complete attention to your words but he does appreciate any compliment coming from your way. ever since the two of you started dating you've made it your mission to remind him how perfect he is

nicholas places a quick kiss of gratitude into your palm before he pushes his lips into a thoughtful pout and focuses on the littered papers in front of him again, not realising how much you've been pressing your thighs together in hope of releasing some of the pressure on your needy cunt

there's just something about the way he scratches the sides of his nose whenever he's slowly turning to the next page, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and nibbling on his lip like he's purposely trying to torture you.

"babe." you mumble sternly and reach for his hand, grateful he's quick to play into your neediness as he grabs your inner thigh and gently strokes your skin,

"i wanna ride your face, please."

usually you're not one to be this bold with your requests but after watching him for the past hour it's been incredibly hard for you to maintain your composure and even your patience has limits.

nicholas is absolutely stunned at your words. for a second he's not sure if he even heard you right, giving you a double take just to realise your current state.

eyes glossy, lips pushed into the cutest pout, thigh firmly pressed together and your cute nipples poking through the fabric of your pyjama shirt to the point where not a single thought is left to imagination.

just out of curiosity nicholas lets his hand wander in between your legs, gulping harshly at the way they fall apart like you've been waiting to be relieved and once his fingers graze your soaked panties, he knows exactly why you're reacting the way you do.

without even missing another beat, nicholas throws his controller as well as his headset to the side, turning his game off and almost instantly laying on his side of the bed.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner, baby", he whispers as you shakily make your way to straddle his handsome face, his cheeks and lips tinted in the sweetest shade of pink, "there you go, baby."

his praise elicits a soft whimper from your throat, your hole clenching in absolute despair and the second the tip of his nose grazes your flesh, you throw your head back with a loud moan of relief.

"fuck, baby", nicholas grunts against your cunt, his tongue lapping up your sweet juices and if it wasn't for his tight grip on your waist, you would have thought he passed

out, "you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect." all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"you're so wet for me, angel, so perfect."

all you can do is whimper in response, grabbing a fistful of his soft hair and grinding yourself against his tongue, whining every time his nose nudges your hardened clit.

"that's why you love my nose so much, hm?", nicholas smile turns into a smirk as he pushes his tongue inside of your clenching hole, groaning and moaning against your wet flesh like a man gone mad.

"mhm, y-yes", you whisper and feel the sweet wave of your release climbing up your spine in the sweetest way possible. "love sitting on it."

and for a moment nicholas movements stop, as he appreciates your sweet compliment, head cloudy from all the arousal floading his brain and his cheeks burning from excitement.

"that's my good girl", he grunts and finally wraps his lips around your sensitive clit before he pushes the tip of his tongue against the nub and applies just the right amount of pressure, making sure to have you cum all over his face to make you feel as loved and appreciated as he does.

#nicholas chavez smut #nicholas alexander chavez smut #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez blurb

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spookypete-94 · 4 months ago

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Pregnant by Proxy

SimonRileyxPregnant!Reader

Have had this idea in my head for many, many months. Finally just decided to do it- even if it seems strange to some.

Triggers for medical inaccuracies, language, minor angst, still born mentioned

What triggered it all is you not showing up. Being Laswell’s right hand while she was Watcher, given you the opportunity to assist Task Force 141 on multiple missions. So much, they considered you a part of their team.

Here instead, Simon Riley stood back watching you from afar. He had hunted you down and located you in your hometown. Something he was never ever supposed to do. There was a no contact rule for them outside of their work. Price enforced it for safety reasons. But Simon just couldn’t stand not knowing where you were or what had happened. That was unsafe for him. He needed to see you, needed to make sure you were alright.

“I can’t tell you much, just that she will not be attending this mission.” Laswell spoke from the computer screen during their video call meant to be a mission brief for the 4 of them.

“She ok at least?” Price asked, looking up over the stack of papers in his hands up at the camera.

You had made your mark on all of them… but maybe not as dark or inflicted as you had on Simon.

“Medical emergency back at home. I know you guys are worried about her, but I really can’t disclose anymore.” Laswell’s voice firmer, protecting you. “She deserves privacy and her time off.” Something you had earned away from them.

Simon couldn’t help but pipe up. “When will she be back?” You are an asset to this team, as much to his spirit.

A heavy sigh from Laswell, “We need to focus on the task ahead.” She was putting up a wall. How dare you leave without relaying some sort of word to him…

What had happened to you?

That was the moment Simon knew he needed to find you. You were at risk, something had happened. Did you get sent somewhere without him and hurt? Are you bruised and bloody? Had someone laid hands on you? Dangerous as you were… Simon couldn’t help feeling that you were fragile. He had seen you in the most intimate of ways on more than one occasion. Perhaps that had changed his perception of the clarity of body. Fragile like clay figurine, porous and breakable. Skin smooth, even though littered with scars in places. Special, is the way to describe you to him. You understood him. An extension of his peace.

So, he finished the mission. Angrier than he had ever been at the end of one. Days drawn out, even though it only took them a week to find their target and take him into custody. It was a success, a record in apprehending someone capable of such violence. Little did the Task Force know, Ghost’s unbridled rage of procrastinating the ability to find you, the result of such a feat.

Price knew something was up when Ghost had turned down the interrogation of the suspect. This was his forte. One of his best qualities of finding intel was beating a man into submission. Glancing with a side eye filled with suspicion, Price then closed it. Halfway knowing what Ghost was up to, the fact that Simon now needed this. He needed to know you were alive.

There were a few times you would tell him stories of your hometown and family after you would connect and lay naked together. He enjoyed it. It distracted his mind while his brain would close his eyes and imagine it. Never once did you tell him where you from or the name of the town… but he had seen it so many times in his mind’s eye, he had just an inkling of where it was hidden.

Imagine his surprise when had finally found you outside your favorite coffee house. A small coffee in your hand… and a swollen belly round in front of you as you slowly waddled away from him. He had stood back near the corner about 3 buildings away from you, following you ever so slowly.

Shock had filled his system. He could walk away now… in fact he fully wanted to bolt and sprint in a different direction. He knew you were safe, alive and clearly thriving… but he had more questions now then when he did about your absence.

Feeling like you were being watched made you turn around. Eyes instantly locked on the black shadow that was following you.

“Simon?” Your sweet voice called to him, filled with confusion and happiness.

“Wanted to see you…” Was all he could mumble out as he approached.

Awkwardly you tried hard to lurch to him, hard to do so when your counterbalance was way off.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” a rushed hiss to him, as you tried to lay your head into his chest. It was difficult with how round you were, the babe pressing you away.

His finger guided under your chin, lifting it up so he could see your eyes. Tears welled in them that he brushed back with a thumb. Fucking hormones.

“Missed you,” you repeated. Somehow even through all your emotions, the glow on you was so strong and intense. How beautiful.

Simon remained quiet, while he tried to decide how far along you were. The time frame… seemed possible, but he wasn’t entirely sure. The time away from you seemed so much longer. He wanted to ask, he needed to know this now. Sure, he wanted to run at the same time, but you were important to him. This was important to him.

“Is it mine?” He asked his palm spreading over the circumference.

You stood there unable to speak. It was such a long story. Words hindered, closed off. Instead, you shook your head with a slow no. Regret written all over your face.

Instantly, the rage returned to him. Of course he wasn’t good enough for you. That’s why you left. That’s why everyone eventually does. How dare you be so important to him….

Turning on heel, he pushed past the crowd of people nearby trying to get away from you. Anger blinding him, deafening your calling out.

“Simon!! Wait!! She’s not mine either!!” Trying your hardest to run after him.

What?

He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to turn to look at you yet. The same tears that had stung yours now been transferred to his. Had he really wanted this with someone so bad before?

Your hand pressed into his back letting him know you were still there.

“She’s my sisters… it’s a really long fucked up story, but she is my sister’s.”

Abstract. This whole thing was completely abstract and fucking strange. You were being a surrogate to it all.

“What?” Simon said again, finally turning around, his head looking to the side, still not fully able to look at you yet. He needed clarification, needed to comprehend you hadn’t betrayed him.

“I went on leave because my sister was pregnant and went into labor at about eight and half months…but something had happened. She got this blood infection in her uterus causing a still birth. And when it did, it made things happen to her reproductive organs so she would never be able to carry a baby again…They had to take it all out.” A heavy breath left you, as you started to explain, a shake he could hear in your voice, one that and couldn’t ignore.

He turned back around, finally able to look at you again. To you, it was like the break of dawn and the sun greeting the Earth for the first time. He was listening to you. This whole time you were fearful of losing him… but here he was standing before you. Shining like the sun every morning, a wordless pact.

“My sister… she lost her baby and I saw what it did to her. This is all she has ever wanted was to be a mother, and her chance has been taken from her. So, when the doctor said they had saved some of her eggs…I knew I had to do this for her.” Taking his hand, you placed it back on your belly, sprawling his long fingers over it. “This baby isn’t yours… and she isn’t mine. That doesn’t make her any less important though. Just know I had to do this for her.”

His hand was warm. Radiating warmth into you. It gave so much into you, like you had just spewed out back to him.

Did he doubt you?

“I was on my way to an appointment. Why don’t you come with me and maybe that will help you understand.”

A compromise. Let me make this right.

Sliding his hand across your belly, over to your hand he took it and gripped it, squeezing once in awhile. His quiet assurance. So, you led the way. The sail to his boat, teaching and guiding him.

The room was white. White bed, white paper covering it. White walls. White Floor. So much white it hurt for him to look at. Carefully, he stood next to you, letting you climb on the bed to lay down.

“Where is your sister?” A valid question. He would think if this was her baby, she would want to know details, right?

“Work. I think it still hurts her to come sometimes… She has come to a few in the very beginning, but as it gets closer it scares her.”

A valid response.

“You been coming by yourself?”

A slight shrug of your shoulders. “I have…” That hurt him to know you were doing a majority of this alone.

“How did you…?” He said looking down and looking back up at you.

“Conceive?” Unsure if that was what he was asking or not. “Artificial. They planted the embryo after it was fertilized."

Oh, thank God. The relief written on his face makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry. No one else has been inside me in that way. I would never let anyone, let alone my brother-in-law.” Still chuckling.

“Better not.” The only words he could say in his embarrassment of thinking so.

In walked the doctor, who looked over at the mountain of a man.

“Well, hello. Is his him then?” She pointed to him and looked back at you.

“It is.” A smile radiating back at her, truly at your happiest.

The doctor glanced back over at him. “She has talked about you quite a bit and how much she wished you could be here. It’s hard, what she is doing for someone else, but I’m glad her person is here with her now. Your girl’s quite brave.” Rolling across the floor of the room on her stool.

Simon was dumb founded; you had talked about him to someone else? Did he really mean that much to you too?

“Now let’s have a look.”

Rolling your shirt up, exposing that smooth skin to him one more time. It’s been so long since he had last seen it, and here it had changed so much but remained stunning to him.

The doctor measured it before pulling out the doppler to hear the heartbeat. A soft whooshing noise was instantly recognized, making you close your eyes and smile. It was so surreal to Simon. Like he was on the outside looking in. He had the opportunity to see you in this light… and somehow it still was that way for you too. Knowing you were carrying this baby… but it wasn’t entirely yours either.

“Your niece is looking wonderful. See you at your thirty-six-week appointment. Will be once a week starting then.” Niece… A reminder that you were grateful for this baby, but a deep part of you wished it was daughter.

Somehow, he had made it to the checkout desk with you and hadn’t even realized it.

“Can I list you as an emergency contact?” the question that brought him back to reality. Your eyes were looking up at him, pen and paper in your hand before you wrote his name down.

“Sure,” he said taking the pen and paper, scribbling his number down next to his name. Who said anything about no contact outside of work again?

Ending the day, you brought him back to your home. Allowing him to see more of your personal life. Baring it all to him today. His fragile figurine, safe and protected now that he had found her once more. Never again would you be out of his sights. He will see to fix that, all on his own.

Two hands started at your hips before snaking around, his arms fully embraced you from behind. He lifted up on your heavy belly, taking the weight off your hips. A pleasant groan emitted from you. How good did that feel.

“Such a nice thing you are doing for your sister… but next time, the baby in there is going to be ours.” His mouth hot and heavy next to your ear, before running his tongue from the bottom up. It made your skin run hot and cold all at once, goosebumps in the wake on your skin.

“Going to be such a good mother,” his hand trailing down your belly and onto your thigh before squeezing it. “I want this to be safe and healthy for you all, but as soon as you can… I’m fillin’ you with my own. As many as you’ll let me.” Grinding into you, imagining you swollen with his seed making him aroused.

“I missed you.” You whispered out the thrice time today.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

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with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months ago

Text

HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

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neos127 · 4 months ago

Text

park sunghoon x idol!fem!reader | stuck by the glue onto you

wc. 1.2k genre. strangers to lovers(??), pining + clingy hoon cw. none!! notes. idk what this is but this was todays daydream! so i had to write it into a fic (kinda messy bc it’s a brain dump but!)

you were laid out in your bed after a long day of practice, taking time to admire the view out your window while also scrolling through tiktok. you wanted to see if fans had watched your group’s new variety show with enhypen yet, knowing how excited both fandoms were after seeing the teaser.

when you scrolled onto a particularly interesting video, you sat up, your heart rate increasing as your eyes narrowed on the text.

‘sunghoon realizing that he’s in love with y/n’ was the caption in the middle of the screen along with ‘glue song’ playing in the background. you took a deep breath before allowing the video to play, already feeling butterflies invade your stomach.

CLIP #1

you were very nervous while being interviewed considering that your group had only recently debuted. it was your first week doing promotions and due to being a foreigner, you weren’t very confident with your korean yet.

as your shaky hands held the microphone close to your face, you began to stumble over your words. the dialogue on the script you were supposed to repeat suddenly blurring together. panic crossed your face for a split second, and mc sunghoon noticed that. he quickly mumbled the word you forgot into his microphone and you shot him a grateful smile before repeating and continuing with your small speech.

CLIP #2

you had remembered seeing this clip about a year ago, trying to brush it off even though the moment had never left your mind. apparently sunghoon couldn’t divert his gaze from you at an award show, his eyes practically sparkling as he observed you in your gorgeous dress. sunghoon rarely looked at any other female idols, so fans seemed to single out the moments when sunghoon’s attention was only directed onto you. when the two of you crossed paths, he smiled and politely bowed which caused you to do the same.

CLIP #3

your group was meeting enhypen for the variety show you had recently filmed with their group. everyone was shy and timid even though you had met each other many different times due to being under the same company. fans seemed to mostly focus on you and sunghoon though, who were very giggly and flustered. sunghoon’s ears turned a light pink as he shook your hand, his palms already sweaty due to the small encounter.

CLIP #4

sunghoon tried his best to be nonchalant about the fact that you had both been paired together for the field day activities, which was hard considering his long time crush on you. once the two of you started playing the games, you became more comfortable with each other. it seemed as if you two had been lifelong friends as you laughed and joked with each other.

the members teased him about being your shadow while completing missions, noticing how sunghoon never left your side even for a second.

CLIP #5

during your lunch break, sunghoon still seemed to follow you like a lost puppy. he timidly walked up to you, watching as you served yourself from the mini buffet the company set up.

“what are you eating?” he asked softly, causing to quickly look up at him with wide eyes. he scared you a bit, but the momentary surprise was soon replaced by comfort due to his presence.

“oh um…i was just combing some stuff. i came up with this really good combination, want to try it?” you asked, your tone becoming more light once you got over the initial shock of sunghoon being so close. sunghoon nodded his head in agreement, allowing you to take his plate and serve him.

when you had expected sunghoon to walk away and join the boys at a smaller round table to eat, he didn’t, keeping close as you looked around for an empty seat. since you concluded that sunghoon wanted to eat with you, you led him to a picnic table for two, smiling at the boy as he sat across from you.

the boys all gave him curious looks, the editors making small question marks appear above their heads as they observed you two. sunghoon didn’t seem to care— or maybe he simply didn’t notice, too focused on your pretty smile and the way your cheeks puffed up as you shoved rice into your mouth.

CLIP #6

while walking up a trail to find your next mission, you had nearly stepped into a deep mud puddle that would have definitely ruined your favorite pair of sneakers. sunghoon stopped you quickly, placing a strong arm in front of your torso to stop you from moving. you looked at up him with a raised brow before realizing that you had nearly stepped into the mess.

“ah, thank you.” you giggled nervously, feeling grateful that the gentleman next to you had been looking out for your safety. the boy mumbled a small ‘your welcome’ before grabbing onto your sweater and gently tugging you around the puddle. the action made your insides melt.

CLIP #7

when everyone had finished their respective missions and mini games, you were all called back to the picnic area where you had first started. sunghoon and a few other members were already there, waiting for the rest to arrive. the boy was about to sit down on the plush grass until he saw you and a couple of your group mates walk into the area. you sat down behind jay and a member of your group, causing sunghoon to look longingly at you. before he could even warn himself about being too obvious about his crush, he walked over and sat down next to you, a small smile on his face as your gazes met.

you looked at him for a second too long, causing you both to quickly look away in a flustered frenzy. you bit your lip to suppress a giggle, trying to focus on jungwon who was congratulating both groups for finishing the tasks.

CLIP #8

the clip was zoomed in, and you hadn’t even noticed that the camera had still been recording your actions. you and sunghoon walked away from the picnic area with the rest of your groups back to the car, playfully bumping shoulders as you trekked up a hill. it wasn’t much compared to the rest of the clips, but it was enough considering the compilation you had just watched.

you breathed out a shaky sigh before opening the comments, noticing how everyone cooed over the interactions and gushed over how sunghoon seemed to be enamored of you. people described how his eyes lit up whenever you smiled and how he had been attached to you like glue throughout the whole video.

you were a bit surprised that you hadn’t noticed how clingy sunghoon had been that day, only focusing on how you finally had time to get to know the boy more.

you smiled upon playing the video a second time, your finger hovering over the ‘share’ button before finally copying the link and sending it to sunghoon on a whim.

you waited all night for a response, barely being able to stomach down your dinner and constantly darting your eyes over to your phone that only seemed to light up from company emails and your group’s chat.

suddenly as you were getting ready for bed, your phone lit up with a notification from sunghoon. you quickly grabbed the device, toothbrush dangling out of your mouth as you read over the text message multiple times. a squeal threatened to emerge from the back of your throat once you had finally had processed his words.

[sunghoon: ah, i guess they caught me…it’s been hard to take my eyes off such a pretty girl ~]

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l4ndonorizz · 2 months ago

Text

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

#f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando x reader

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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

Note

Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:

hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH

i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭

-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)

epiphany | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!

epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

before

The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”

Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”

Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.

Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”

Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.

It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”

“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”

The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.

In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.

“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.

Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.

Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”

during

There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.

Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.

“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.

Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”

His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.

You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.

If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.

“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.

Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.

A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.

“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.

Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.

Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.

“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.

Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.

With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.

It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.

The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.

Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”

I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.

He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.

The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.

after

You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.

Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.

Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.

What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.

Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.

As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.

“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.

The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.

epiphany

The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.

Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.

Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.

You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”

Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.

Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”

Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”

Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.

“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.

Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”

You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.

“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.

Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.

“You want to be who again?”

Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.

He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”

You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.

“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.

Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”

Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“

“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.

Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.

You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”

Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.

“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.

Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

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innocent-artery · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober 5th: Goldmine

aka hair pulling with Rodrick Heffley

2k words

Summary: Rod learns something new.

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

"Y'think I should get a leather jacket?"

Your shoulders shook under the weight of Rodrick's arm as you chuckled. "Why, you get an idea for a costume?"

"Absolutely. Even got the name for it." You could see the familiar smirk he wore even as your eyes remained on the screen. Smoke billowed in your peripheral, the smell of his near-finished cigarette long since clung to your clothes.

"It'd be a cute couples costume too," he continued, "you could be Tina Gray."

You turned to look at him. "Oh could I now?"

"Yup." He grinned as he put his cigarette out. "You've got the bedroom personality for it too."

You swung a pillow at his face, but Rodrick easily caught it and tossed it behind him. You huffed in false annoyance, falling back into your spot curled up under his arm.

His hand fell absentmindedly to your hair, gently twirling strands around his finger. The sensation makes your eyelids heavy, getting sleepy as he continued to soothe you.

Until you felt a sharp tug. Your eyes flew open, and you audibly gasped. Your entire body froze, and you curse yourself when Rodrick turns his head. A soft "oh?" leaves his lips, which are curled up into a curious smile. It had only been playful tug, but that was before he knew you'd react like that.

"That's not how you do it," you breathe, ghost of a grin teasing your lips.

"Yeah?" His voice was a condescending lilt. "How d'you do it?"

Instead of speaking, you take hold of his wrist, pushing it towards the back of your head. His fingers thread into your roots and he takes a fistful, tugging slowly. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a deep sigh.

Before your eyes close, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend's reaction. His eyes are wide and full of amusement, and he's smirking incredulously. His brows raise, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

"That's interesting," Rodrick mumbled, almost more to himself. "I wonder..."

He climbs up over you, legs caging in on either side of your hips. His foot kicks the TV remote onto the floor but Elm Street is long forgotten. His hold on your hair returns, the tingling in your scalp pulling a weak noise from your throat.

"Now, what would happen..." Rodrick's thought trails off as his fingers ghost over your throat, touch only featherlight until the pads of his fingers find your pulse points and press. Your breathing is shaky and your vision begins to blur, but your hands still fly to his shoulders. You might have even been a little embarrassed at how your hooded eyes began to cross if not for the fact that it just felt so good.

"Aw, y'like that?" Rodrick lilts, his face pulling closer to yours. Heat creeps up your neck.

"Y-yeah," you attempt to nod, but you aren't given much room for movement.

"I like that too, baby." He murmurs against your mouth before he kisses you slowly, tasting of nicotine and gum. They were gentle, teasing kisses, but quickly gave way to a more desperate rhythm as his tongue glided over your lower lip. He hummed a deep note when you let him in, when you whimpered as he started sucking on your tongue.

You let out a disappointed noise when Rodrick lets go of you, rolling back to sit but it's forgotten when he pats his thigh. You quickly oblige, skin heated and brain frazzled.

As soon as you're sat on his leg, the friction to your clit has you gasping into his mouth. Almost involuntarily, your hips began to roll against him, so slowly but enough to make your head swim and heat boil in your gut.

"Oh, sweetness," Rodrick murmurs in between kisses, "so needy already? I've barely done anything."

He knows he doesn't need to do much. Just a few words- or a tug of the hair- and you'd be turned into a pile of mush. He knows you too well, and he loves having that effect over you.

Even though he's teasing you, you can't be bothered to care, muttering an mhm and rutting your hips faster. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, then trail to his thigh to ground yourself.

"Atta girl, keep goin'." Rodrick murmurs in your ear, licking a stripe down the shell of it, planting soft kisses wherever his lips wandered. "'M right here baby, that's it, yeah, good girl."

Rodrick's encouragement was sweet honey to your ear, and a sickening contrast to the hand that hand re-found purchase at your scalp, tilting your head back so that he could teethe at your neck, soft plucks of skin turning into bruising. Deft hands made work of your top, leaving your chest bare.

Your rutting became increasingly frustrated; your thighs burned and you weren't getting any closer to your high.

"Rod... need..." your words were mumbled and breathless, and your brain was too cloudy to be fully coherent anyway.

"Hm? Couldn't hear you, bunny, say that one more time?"

"Need more," you cried, hands pushing into Rodrick's hair when his tongue laved over your nipple.

"More what, baby?" He lilted, cupping and pinching your other tit lovingly. He groaned when your fingers clutched his hair tighter.

"Need you, Rod please..." you sighed, tugging at his wrist.

Rodrick chuckled. "Baby, I don't think I can do that. Might hurt you if I don't get you nice and prepped, yeah? How about we start with fingers?"

"Anything, please," you babbled, nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, I got ya. Let's get these off, hm?" He tugged at the belt loop of your pants. They were off in record time, along with your underwear, leaving your entire body bared to him. You felt naked, more than just literally.

Once you were situated on his lap again you tried pulling on the hem of his shirt. "Off," you mumbled. Happily he complied, and you took the opportunity to lean forward and plant loving kisses to his neck, his collarbone.

You didn't realize when you'd risen up off your behind that it gave Rodrick the space to slip a hand between your legs, pulling a squeak out of you, muffled against his jaw.

"Aw, so messy baby. A little hair pulling did all this?"

You knew that it was a few other things, but you were so far gone you gave him a whiny 'yeah' anyway. Rodrick's fingers massaged your entrance, gathering slick and smothering it around your clit, making obscene noises- probably on purpose.

"So fuckin' wet, sweet, y'hear that?" Rodrick presses kisses to your pulse point, up to your jaw, then kisses you deep. Swallowing your moans into his mouth as the kiss turns messy.

"Please, Rod..." you're breathless and your pleas are barely coherent, but Rodrick knows exactly what you're asking for. You keel when you feel a finger glide into you, curling up towards your stomach.

"Yeah, good fuckin' girl." Rodrick's grin widens at your reaction when a second finger joins the first. "Always so eager, hm? That's my girl."

"Yeah, 'm your girl," you pant, hips canting to meet his hand.

"That's right," he coos, thumb tracing wide circles over your clit. "So proud of you, my girl."

"Rod," you whine, "need you."

"Hm?" He hums between nips to your collarbone. "You have me."

You shake your head vigorously. "Need you inside."

This gets Rodrick's attention. His fingers slow, while his free hand moves from your hair to his pants. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock out from his boxers. You watch as he takes his fingers, soaked from your cunt, and wrap them around himself, stroking slowly. His head falls back against the couch, lips hanging open and you feel the sudden urge to bite them.

Before you get the chance, however, Rodrick is pulling you forward, lining himself up to take you. Slowly, so slowly, he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick around. You jerk when his head catches on your clit, sending electricity shooting up your spine.

"Rod..." you whine against his neck, "please."

"Please what?" You want to slap him for the knowing glint in his eye, but that was for another day.

"Please fuck me."

And who was he to deny you? Guiding your hip, Rodrick eased you down on him, guiding you but letting you set your own pace. The stretch set your loins on fire, but it was heaven.

Your head kicked back, and you let your voice have a mind of its own as you sunk down on him. Long and pornographic, and Rodrick matched it. You felt him throb inside of you.

"Fuck, sound so pretty." Rodrick started rolling his hips into you, and you cried out at the sensation. "Yeah, that's it. Moan like a fuckin' whore for me, c'mon."

And who were you to deny him? You had the house to yourself, and the name alone sent your brain into overdrive. He filled you up so nicely, and the drag of his cock inside of you made your skin tingle with delight.

"Rod, yeah, oh- just like that, ohmygod-" your voice was caught in your throat when Rodrick, with the usual knowing twinkle in his eye, takes a fistful of hair and tugs you forward into a sloppy kiss.

All of the sensations- that Rodrick was giving you- were sending you closer and closer to tumbling headfirst off of that ledge. The sting in your scalp, his tongue sliding against yours, the sounds of wet slaps and your combined moans. The smell of cigarettes and the heat of his skin under your fingers. The head of his cock piledriving into your cervix again and again and again.

"Rod I- oh god, I'm gonna- oh, so close- Rod please," you pant into his mouth, fingers raking down his chest and leaving faint red lines in their wake.

"I gotcha," he grunts, hand snaking between your bodies to press circles over your clit. You can hear it in his voice that he's holding back. You don't want him to. "That's it, baby, come for me. Make a mess on my cock, c'mon."

That extra pleasure is all it takes to have you diving headfirst into a mind-numbing orgasm. Your eyes screw shut, and all you can feel is Rodrick. Shaky hands rest on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as hot pleasure courses through you.

You're acutely aware of the hot spurts hitting your cervix, and the fluids seeping out of you, but your body is still tingling all over. Your voice has long since become scratchy, but that doesn't stop you from whimpering and crying as he coaxes you through it.

"Good girl, did so good for me, yeah?" His grip on your hair is no longer a grip, but gentle, soothing strokes, almost as if to apologize.

You hummed, dropping your forehead against his shoulder as you breathe. The smell of sex had permeated the air around you, and you were suddenly very aware of how sweaty you'd become.

"Think we need a shower, baby, c'mon." Rodrick nudged your head.

You wanted to, you felt sticky, but your body was on fire, this time with a less-than-pleasurable ache. Begrudgingly, you lifted yourself off of his now soft dick, hobbling down to reach for your clothes and then to the nearest bathroom.

The shower was peaceful, and the water was soothing on your muscles. You both worked in a comfortable silence.

"Well, I was right." Rodrick finally said.

"About what, the hair pulling?"

"Nope."

You turned around to face him, head tilted in confusion. His mouth was curled upwards and his eyes were lifted in a smile.

"You do have the bedroom personality of Tina Gray."

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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ivymarquis · 8 months ago

Text

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#ocaptainchallenge #john price x reader #captain john price #price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #implied plus size reader #take a shot every time john calls the reader pretty #but dont or youll get alcohol poisoning #also I used ‘turn into a chew toy’ 3 times and I dont care :)#my writing

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