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stllmnstr · 5 months ago

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sacred monsters: part one

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

part one word count: 19.3k

part one warnings: swearing, blood and all sorts of other vampire-y things, semi graphic descriptions/depictions of violence, I don't know anything about publishing and wrote about it anyway, not quite as much in this part, but I want to forewarn you that while there is still nothing explicit, we do get a little ~sexier~ than most stllmnstr fics

note/disclaimer: I have been itching to write an enha vampire fic for ages because hello? the material is RIGHT THERE!! this is a story I'm super excited about, and it's definitely gotten me out of my comfort zone. in order to help build this world, I did draw from some outside sources. primarily, a lot of the vampire lore and some plot elements are inspired by the dark moon webtoon series. I did also pull some things from twilight and other well-known vampire myths. lastly, there is a section with "poetry" in it. these "poems" are translated lyrics from still monster, chaconne, and lucifer by enhypen. some are in their original form and some I altered slightly. everything else is straight from yours truly! as always, happy reading ♡

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

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A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

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The last sip of your coffee tastes bitter on your tongue. Acidic, like it was left to brew too long. Or maybe not long enough. Your limited knowledge of coffee extends to its effects on your alertness and little else.

Taste has always been an afterthought, something of little consequence. Besides, some bitterness is to be expected when you take your coffee black.

Suppressing the small wince that always follows your final sip, you set the reusable thermos down on your desk. Next to your open notebook and favorite ballpoint pen, it settles in nicely with your other class essentials.

Call it poetic or romantic or unbearably pretentious, but you actually do prefer to take your notes by hand. Partly because it feels more fitting for a literature major and mostly because your laptop is on its last leg and between tuition and rent, you don’t exactly have the funds to shell out for a new one.

Frowning at the bitter taste that still lingers on your tongue, you feel another pang of regret for forgetting to pack your water bottle this morning. But no matter. Today is a day for optimism. The bitterness now only means that your imminent victory will taste that much sweeter in comparison.

Because today is the last day of the fall semester of your third year. Which means that this is the last morning you’ll be sitting here in this lecture hall in the minutes preceding 9 am.

Which means that today is the day of your professor’s long awaited announcement. You still remember the day, nearly four months ago, when he first told the entire room of undermotivated, overcaffeinated students about it.

A publishing opportunity. A real, actual publishing opportunity. Something most literature students would sell their soul for.

Because Professor Kim, while a rather mediocre professor who prefers to dish out criticism and bite back praise, has an excellent eye for great writing. So much so that nearly twenty years ago, he founded his very own publishing house.

Known by the name New Haven Publishing, it’s a small operation that deals mostly in short pieces that are marketed more for niche literary circles than mass public appeal. Being published by New Haven may not be a straight shot to the New York Times’ Best Sellers List, but it’s still professional publishing.

And a week into classes, he announced that for the first time ever, he would be choosing one of you to not only intern at New Haven the following semester, but also to publish an original piece of short fiction with them.

You’ve been fantasizing about it for months now. You can already imagine it. A piece of your very own, marketed and edited by professionals. Published and complete with Professor Kim’s stamp of approval.

It’s what you’ve been craving ever since you decided to switch paths and pursue literature studies at the end of your first semester. It’s everything you’re sure you need. Validation that your writing is good, that your words are worth reading.

Hell, maybe it will even earn you the approval of your parents.

And, perhaps most satisfying of all, you will have officially beaten Lee Heeseng once and for all. You don’t want to speak poorly of the rest of your classmates and their writing abilities, but this has always been a competition between you and him.

Or, at least, it has been for you.

It’s the last day of the semester, and honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if Heeseung still had a hard time remembering that the internship was even happening. Then again, you wouldn’t exactly be shocked if he couldn't remember your name, either.

And if you were hard pressed to choose only one thing, that would probably be what annoys you the most about him. Not the way his hair is alway somehow perfectly mussed. Not the way his writing is painfully beautiful and poetic that you swell green with envy just thinking about it.

No, the root cause of your infinite ire when it comes to Lee Heeseung is how damn aloof he is. Like his classmates and professors and even his greatest rival aren’t worth the effort of remembering.

And it’s not like it’s because he’s got some kind of crazy social life outside of academics. Other than mandatory discussion groups, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him so much as talk to anyone.

But that’s just the way he is, you suppose.

Perfect Heeseung with his perfect hair and his perfect writing and perfect attendance record doesn’t need anyone but himself—

Wait.

Perfect attendance record.

Glancing at the clock mounted high above the front door of the lecture hall, you can hardly believe what you’re seeing.

8:59.

There’s no way. There’s no fucking way that the universe is rooting for you this hard, that the stars are aligning this perfectly.

Despite your doubts, the second hand continues its onward march. You suppress the sudden urge to bounce your leg in a matching rhythm.

He has five seconds.

Four. Three. Two. One.

And it’s official. A ridiculous amount of pent up tension drains from your shoulders as your spine straightens. You can’t believe it was that easy.

A semester of agonizing over every word, every sentence, every assignment you handed in for this class. A semester of panicking over missed buses and waking up way too early just to make sure you always beat the clock.

But today is the day where everything comes to a head.

And Lee Heeseung is officially late.

Professor Kim, at the beginning of the semester, had only two pieces of advice to offer his students that were suddenly all gunning for a shot at being published:

One: “Don’t make me read awful writing.”

And two: “Don’t be late to class. I have zero tolerance for tardiness.”

Heeseung has just broken a cardinal rule. One row down, nine seats to the left from where you sit. It’s the place that would usually be filled with an annoyingly broad set of shoulders and distractingly sharp jawline. In fact, Heeseung usually beats you here most days. Not that you’re keeping track, of course. And not that it matters.

Because this morning, this fateful morning, that particular seat, his seat, is glaringly, gloriously empty.

Your eyes flicker over to it again without your permission. But you can’t help it. You’re so antsy now, teeming with self-satisfied excitement. It’s almost unbelievable actually. A golden stroke of luck that he chose today, of all days, to be late.

In fact, you think the more you stare at the empty seat, Lee Heeseung is such a reliable presence that the entire lecture hall suddenly seems a bit off kilter. Tilted too far in some precarious state of imbalance.

Your smugness is still there, yes, but now there’s also a heavy feeling beginning to settle at the bottom of your gut. Why on earth is Lee Heeseung late?

You’re so distracted by his absence, the endless loop of possibilities and explanations running through your mind, that you almost miss the second abnormality of the morning.

Because now the clock reads 9:04, and Heeseung isn’t the only one missing.

All at once, your attention is on the podium at the front of the lecture hall. It’s empty, too. And Professor Kim may be a hardass, but he’s no hypocrite. Never once throughout this entire semester has he ever begun a class even a millisecond late.

Frowning, you pull out your phone to confirm that the clock on the wall is not playing tricks on you. Maybe there was a power outage or something, and maintenance hasn’t had time to correct it yet.

But your phone screen lights up, and 9:05 is the time that stares back at you.

Glancing around, no one else seems too particularly bothered by this. There are a few titters, a few annoyed grumbles that sound like hypocrite and double standard where they reach your ears.

But still, the clock ticks forward.

The minute hand has fallen another two notches when the front door finally opens, Professor Kim striding in unhurried. Despite his lateness, his steps are steady, even. There’s nothing frantic or apologetic about the way he sets his briefcase down next to the podium, pulling out his laptop and a small stack of notes before clearing his throat.

As the students around you fall silent, class begins as it always does. Other than the time, nothing is out of the ordinary.

But your spirits are still high, and you figure you can cut your professor some slack. Maybe he ran into a bad bit of traffic or spilled coffee all over his shirt. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to draw more attention to his error and has decided that not acknowledging it at all is the best course of action.

Oh, well. It’s no use ruminating on it now. Settling back into your seat, you do your best to focus your attention on the front of the room and not that damn empty chair. But the distraction isn’t necessary for long.

The clock is just striking 9:12 when a second late arrival draws the eyes of the class to the front door of the lecture hall. Like your professor, Heeseung maintains a certain air of composedness as he makes his way towards his seat wordlessly.

There’s a moment, a fraction of a second, where Professor Kim pauses, letting a sentence drift into silence.

Twelve minutes late. It’s a rookie mistake. For a fleeting moment, you almost feel bad for him. Because surely Professor Kim is about to make an example of him. No one walks into his lectures late and leaves unscathed.

Wincing, you remember a handful of weeks ago when a poor girl that sits a few rows behind you arrived late. Not only had Professor Kim stopped the entire flow of his lecture to draw attention to her tardiness, he had also assigned her an extra short story for homework. One on the merits of punctuality.

But the ebb in the lecture begins to flow again, the moment passing as soon as it comes. Heeseung settles into his chair. Your professor resumes his sentence.

For the remainder of the class, you do your best to pay attention, but you’re having trouble finding a point. It’s not like he can assign homework or an exam or a discussion on the last day of the semester.

Like you, most of your peers are fully zoned out, just waiting for him to get to what everyone has been dying to know for months.

Who’s interning at New Haven? Who’s getting published?

But distractions in this class have never been hard to come by. More than once, you find your wandering gaze drifting to the back of Heeseung’s head. Usually, you’d be bitterly admiring how soft his hair looks. But today, there’s only one question that plays in your mind as you stare.

What on earth happened that made perfect Lee Heeseung late?

Your thoughts are only interrupted by the sudden shuffle of small movement around you as everyone sits up a bit straighter in their seats.

“Ah,” Professor Kim glances at the time. “That wraps up our semester, then. As promised, I would like to announce the student who will be interning with New Haven Publishing this upcoming semester. And, of course, the student that will have the opportunity to publish an original piece with us.”

He pauses for a moment, looking down at his notes. You wonder if the people sitting close to you can hear the way your heart pounds in your chest.

Please be me. Please be me. Please be me.

The rushing in your ears is so loud that you almost miss it. But not quite. Because the sound of your own name is something you’d recognize anywhere.

Because it was your name that he said. Not anyone else’s. Not Heeseung’s.

You. You did it.

You’re officially going to be interning with New Haven. You’re going to be published.

When he asks you to stay a minute after class to discuss the details, it’s all you can do to nod. Butterflies are still scattered in your stomach.

As the rest of the students begin to file out, you pack up your materials with hands that shake slightly. It doesn’t feel real. It feels too good to be true. You poured your everything into this all semester long, and now it’s actually happening.

Your mind is a mess, and an erratic movement almost sends your empty thermos flying. Luckily, you snap out of it long enough to catch it before it hits the ground. With everything packed back into your bag, you make your way down to the podium on slightly unsteady feet.

A handful of passing classmates congratulate you on their way out, and you smile in return.

You’ve almost made it to the front of the lecture hall when a body blocks your path. It takes a moment for your brain to register the identity of the offender. And once it does, it spits his name with venom. Heeseung.

Oblivious and self-centered as always, he nearly knocks you over. Rolling your eyes, you move to step around him. Apparently whatever gift he was given for writing doesn’t extend to his spatial awareness or consideration for others.

But as you lean to the left, he follows the movement, still in your path. Your gaze snaps up, eyebrows raised when you find him already looking at you.

Oh. So it’s not a spatial awareness problem, then. He’s in your way on purpose.

As always, his expression is infuriatingly blank. You can’t get any sort of read on him, and it unnerves you. Irritates you. Here he is, blocking your path, and the only thing he has to offer you is an empty, silent stare.

You could just say excuse me, force your way around him, and be done with it. You should. The semester is over, your professor’s decision is made, and you have no stake left in this game.

But you’ve been biting back snarky comments and masking irritated expressions with mild indifference for months. The nerve he has to block you. The utter gall of it all. To physically stand in your way when he’s been your metaphorical obstacle to success all semester.

When every time you look at him, you still remember that one sunny afternoon, early in the semester. The time you tried, actually tried to be his friend. When he waved you off like a buzzing fly that was nothing more than a nuisance.

You inhale, weighing your options. His head tilts slightly at the movement, and it’s your last straw.

There’s poison in your voice when you bite, “Oh, what? Now that I’ve proved myself, you can spare some time out of your day to talk to me?”

Heeseung’s eyes widen, lips parting slightly. It’s the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, and he’s wasting it on shock. As if he can’t quite comprehend why the girl he’s been giving headaches for months might not want to stop and have a friendly chat with him. Not that you imagine he’d even be capable of that if you tried.

Already, you regret your comment. In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have said anything. You’d be just as detached and cold and aloof as he was on that day you hate to think about. You still remember it like it was yesterday. Without your permission, the memory floats front and center to your mind.

It was warmer, then. The last clutches of summer were still holding on tight. Sunlight was bright in the sky, and it felt like a good time to breach the barrier of your comfort zone.

Class had just ended. Usually, Heeseung was one of the first to leave. You had to pack up abnormally quickly just to catch him in the quad right outside the lecture hall.

But you did catch up to him.

And in a voice braver than you felt, you asked, “Hey, it’s Heeseung, right?”

You’d been brighter, then. Still full of an energy you haven’t been able to muster since midterms. Not yet burdened by the weight of assignments and rejection, your disposition was as sunny as the sky above.

Heeseung hadn’t bothered to dignify your question with an actual answer, but he had at least stopped walking, and that seemed like an invitation at the time. Now, with the power of hindsight, you wince. You should have spared yourself the regret.

You remember watching as he pulled out his earbuds, tucking them back into his pocket before turning his attention to you. Or at least half of it. Even then, you never felt like he was truly looking at you, hearing you. His mind always seemed off in the distance, preoccupied somewhere you could never quite reach.

You recall being nervous, heat in your cheeks as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes tracked the movement like a cat tracks a ray of sunlight. Lazily, intently. With an energy you weren’t quite sure what to do with.

Instead, you had stuttered, “I, uh, I wanted to tell you that I thought your analysis today was brilliant.” The worst part is that it really was a brilliant analysis. Although you’d never admit that today, and much less to his face.

Instead, you cringe just thinking about it. You should have taken his blank stare as a sign. You should have just let the one-sided conversation die there. With at least a little dignity and some of your pride left to spare.

But you hadn’t.

“I never thought about the use of sunlight as a metaphor for life. I mean, now that you’ve pointed it out, it seems kind of obvious.” The memory of your nervous giggles settle like rocks in your stomach. “Anyway, I feel like I’m rambling, but if you ever want to get together and look through assignments or review each other’s analyses, I’d love to—”

You’d heard his voice before, of course. In class discussions and presentations. But never this close. And never directed at you.

He kept it short, his interruption, his response to your shaky offer.

“I’m busy.”

And that was it. Two words. Two fucking words. And not even an explanation or an I’m sorry or a sheepish expression to go along with them.

With that, you’d watched, a bit helplessly, as he pulled his earbuds out of his pocket, put them back into his ears and turned away from you before you could realize just how thoroughly you’d been rejected.

With a sudden haze in the air and hope dying in your heart, your friendly smile slipped into confused dismay as you watched him track a steady path across the quad.

If your cheekbones felt warm before, you were sure they must have been aflame by then. After all, it was your body’s natural response to the crushing weight of the embarrassment and thoroughly bruised ego he’d left you there standing with.

Fine then, you’d resolved after walking as quickly as you could in the opposite direction, sending a prayer to the heavens that no one from your class had just witnessed the most mortifying interaction you’ve ever had. If Lee Heeseung wanted nothing to do with you, the feeling could be mutual.

In fact, it was probably for the best. You were vying for that internship and if the past class discussions were anything to go by, Heeseung would be your only real competition. If he was too busy for you, then you would just have to be too busy for him.

Too busy perfecting every assignment and acing every exam. Too busy drowning in dictionaries and thesauruses and reference materials to make sure everything you submitted was perfect — no, scratch that — better than perfect.

Too busy to attempt another conversation or interaction or do anything but nod along politely whenever he did make an unfortunately great point in class.

So, no. Heeseung doesn’t get to dictate your time or attention or conversation now that you’ve actually been awarded with a publishing opportunity, now that all of your efforts and dedication and late nights have paid off.

If Lee Heeseung wants a bit of your attention on today of all days, at this moment of all moments, then you’re just going to have to be too busy to entertain him.

Standing in front of you, still blocking your path to the podium, Heeseung has the nerve to look confused. As if you have no reason to give him the cold shoulder. As if you’re the one being unreasonable here.

His brow furrows further. “What?” It’s the third word he’s ever spoken directly to you. It makes your blood boil. “No, I…” he trails off. You can practically see the gears running in his mind, like this wasn’t the conversation he expected to be having. Like he has no idea how to navigate it now. “I was just going to say that you should maybe reconsider.”

Your voice is ice when you ask, “Reconsider what?”

“Well…” He’s treading in dangerous territory, and he seems to realize it too. “The internship,” he clarifies, and it’s the second most insulting thing he’s ever said to your face.

You screw your eyes shut. Cold and detached. Blank and aloof. All the things you should be. But you’ve always run a little hot. And end of the semester exhaustion finds you more willing to throw caution to the wind.

“You have got to be fucking with me.” Eyes reopening, you’re met with that same expression of mild shock. Brows raised, lips parted. And god, he even looks good like that. “Yeah, right. Let me guess, so you can do the internship and publish a piece of your own? If all you came over to do is insult me, then save your breath.”

“What?” He still looks so damn confused. “No, I—”

You don’t want to hear it. “I have nothing to say to you.” If he won’t get out of your way, you’ll just have to go through him. The shoulder check is maybe slightly more intense than it needs to be as you shove your way past him. He barely stumbles back an inch. It makes you want to rip your hair out. “Besides,” you add, not bothering to turn back to look at him. “I’m busy.”

It’s a dig at him, yes, but it’s also true. You are. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and Lee Heeseung is not about to ruin it for you.

To your unending gratitude, he doesn’t try to intercept you again. Your path to the front of the lecture hall is clear, and Professor Kim is just tucking his laptop back into his briefcase when you reach the podium.

Ultimately, it’s a watered down version of the million times you’ve imagined this moment in your head. Even coming on the tail end of the most annoying interaction you’ve had in months. Professor Kim congratulates you again, and hands you a printed schedule of when you’ll be expected at the publishing office for the first time.

There are also submission dates. Deadlines for you to submit drafts of the piece that you’ll be publishing. You take it all in with a beam and enthusiastic nods, mishap with Heeseung from minutes ago all but forgotten.

That is, until Professor Kim’s gaze lands somewhere over your shoulder after he tells you he’ll also send you a follow-up email with all the information you need.

You watch as his expression shifts, something uneasy, distrustful entering his gaze as he looks beyond you. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Lee?”

Following his gaze, you turn to look behind you. The lecture hall is empty, students cleared out from the class that dismissed nearly five minutes ago. All except for one, that is.

Gone is the shock from Heeseung’s delicately sharp features. Instead, he wears his mask of indifference again, betraying no emotion. You must be imagining the way it looks almost strained this time, as if he’s forcing his expression into neutrality instead of it there of its own accord.

Wordlessly, his gaze shifts to you.

And now it’s your turn to be confused, but you won’t let it last long. At least not outwardly. You’re quick to match his gaze with nothing but pure ire, venom dripping seeping from every inch of your glare.

Is he seriously still trying to ruin this for you? So much for being busy.

“No, sir.” Heeseung shakes his head. He’s addressing your professor, but he’s still looking at you. A muscle ticks in his jaw, betrays a hint of tension. “I was just on my way out.”

True to his word, he begins a steady descent towards the front door.

Your professor clears his throat, turns his attention back to you, resuming the wrap-up of your conversation.

You’re extra grateful for that follow-up email now, given the way movement in your periphery distracts you from Professor Kim’s last few statements. Instead, your focus hones in on the even footsteps that carry Heeseung to the door, allow him to slip through it silently.

It must be a trick of the light, must be a figment of your overworked, over irritated imagination. But you swear you see him linger there, just on the other side of the small glass window carved into the door.

Professor Kim says his parting words, and you thank him one final time. If there’s an unnatural quickness in your footsteps as you turn to leave, you tell yourself that it’s because you’re excited to get started on your draft, not because you have the sneaking suspicion Heeseung is still standing just on the other side of the door.

But you swear that’s his silhouette you see as you draw closer, shrouded in shadows but distinct all the same. You’re debating the merits of shouting at him or maybe accidentally shoulder checking him again as you pull open the door handle, a little more roughly than you intend.

But the only thing that greets you on the other side of the door is a nearly empty hallway, save for the pair of students bent over a laptop a few paces away. You ignore their twin expressions of shock as you let the door fall closed behind you, much more calmly than you opened it.

…..

The blank expanse of your notebook stares at you accusingly.

You’d stare back, if that would somehow make words appear on the page. Sighing, you reach for your long forgotten cup of tea sitting on your desk. Taking a slow sip, you realize it’s gone cold.

That just makes you double down on your frustration. How long have you been sitting here, waiting for inspiration to strike?

People always talk about the merits of a change in scenery, but ever since you started your first semester of university three years ago, your favorite place to write has always been here, at the small, simple desk that sits in the corner of your bedroom.

Back then, writing was a hobby. Something to do when the last of your biochemistry homework was finished. A way to release pent-up stress and tension from long days in the university lab and long hours feeling like you were drowning between all of the extra study sessions, TA workshops, and office hours.

At first, it had been worth it. You maintained high grades and high spirits. Mostly because of the small sprinkles of support your parents showered you with.

Every little You got this! that lit up your phone screen on dreary afternoons and We believe in you! that made your evening lectures a little more bearable felt like tokens of your parents’ affection. Something tangible to show for the care they held for you.

Most of all, you cherished the We’re proud of you messages. You can’t remember the last time you received one.

And it’s not like they were mad, exactly, when you told them you wanted to change majors. They did their best to be supportive in the ways that they knew how.

For your father, that was concern. “Are you sure? Literature? What do the job prospects after graduation look like?”

And for your mother, that was letting you know that she thought you were capable of more. Of better. “It’s not that literature is bad, sweetie. It’s just… Well, you’ve always been such a smart girl…”

You get it; you really do. All the questions and prodding comments that felt like criticism were wrapped in nothing but love. But that didn’t do much to soften the sting.

In the end, it was this desk that made you follow through with your change in major. Slumped in your hand-me-down chair late one Friday night, half finished lab report sitting untouched in your bag, the threat of tears burning at the corners of your eyes, all you wanted to do was write.

To put into words the feelings and emotions and fantasies and frustrations that you could never seem to express otherwise. To commit a piece of your soul to paper and wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was someone else out there who would read it and find a sense of solidarity, of common ground.

You submitted your official change request the next morning. You never regretted it once.

But your parents still make comments, still share their concerns. And for the last three years, you haven’t had anything to show for it except for empty promises. But now, you have something. A real something.

Publishing a story of your own is the exact validation that you need that your choice was the right one. And it’s the proof you need to assuage your parents’ fears, to show them that pursuing literature was the right call. That you can carve out a life for yourself with it.

You’ve fantasized about this for years. For the chance to have your voice heard, your words read. There are a million half-baked thoughts and partially written drafts scattered in your notebooks and digital documents and on the corners of takeout napkins that have been lying in wait for a moment just like this.

But no matter how hard you stare at the page in front of you, the words just won’t come. The more old drafts you scour, the more amateur your writing feels. The more you feel like maybe Heeseung should have won the internship over you.

It’s a miserable cycle your brain works itself into. The less you write, the more you criticize, the more you wonder.

What if he hadn’t been late that morning? What if Professor Kim was hoping to choose him instead? What if the reason he didn’t say anything when Heeseung finally arrived in class was because he was so disappointed that his first choice wasn’t an option anymore?

Groaning out loud to an empty room, your head falls on your desk with a muted thud.

It’s there, facedown on your desk, where an idea strikes you. If you can’t manifest a draft out of thin air, maybe you just need some parameters. A general guide to get the creative juices flowing.

Lifting your head back up, you push your notebook to the side and reach for your laptop. Opening a web browser, you navigate to New Haven Publishing House’s homepage.

It’s a simple website, reflective of its simple namesake. Chin in one hand, you click the link that reads Recently Published.

The list that pops up is modest. Unlike a larger, more corporate publishing house, your professor’s self-made enterprise is churning out new releases at a slower rate and smaller volume.

Perusing the titles and descriptions, you note that the vast majority of the works are short form fiction. There are very few full length novels. The majority is made up of essay and poetry collections, short stories, and memoirs.

Scanning the list again, a title close to the top catches your eye.

The Thirst for Revenge: An Analysis of Contemporary Vampire Activity. It was published less than a month ago.

Your cursor hovers over the link, brow furrowing. It strikes you as odd that something so… archaic would be published so recently.

Professor Kim has always come across as a discerning man. Someone that prides himself on his well curated taste.

But vampires… that’s hardly a headline worthy topic these days.

While most people still practice caution walking down dark alleyways at night and some even go so far as to carry charms infused with garlic cloves, monsters of the night are by and large a thing of the past.

The entire species of bloodthirsty, ravaging immortals were hunted to near extinction almost two hundred years ago. Those that survived relocated to remote areas. Some adapted to life in the countryside by learning to enjoy the taste of animal blood. Others found humans willing to donate small portions of their own blood intermittently. You won’t pretend to understand, but you suppose it’s preferable to the alternative.

Some still hunted in the traditional way, of course, but vampire attacks on humans are few are far between these days. After all, vampires, as a means of survival, have all but forsaken major urban areas. Population density spells demise for their species.

You’d have to confirm through research, but if you remember correctly, the last recorded vampire-related death in your city was nearly two hundred years ago.

Without bothering to click on the link, you continue scrolling down. Honestly, it was probably just a fluke. After all, who knows? Maybe there’s some niche circle out there that enjoys analyzing vampire literature, regardless of how outdated it is.

The next title seems a bit more promising. Shadowless Nights. The brief description marks it as a short story published half a year ago.

You click on it, take a sip of room temperature tea while the page loads.

Night was my favorite time of day, the first line reads.

I loved the stillness of it all, the all encompassing serenity. With the moon in the sky and stars in my eyes, every moment felt like a secret between me and the universe. Something we alone shared.

I whispered secrets to the earth and held hers in return. My days felt like dreams. Distant, blurry, faded. It was only then, in the distinct stillness of midnight, that I truly came alive.

Interesting, you think. It’s a bit more melodramatic than you expected, but maybe your professor prefers a poetic touch.

In the night, I earned peace. And in the night, I learned fear.

It came slowly at first, that sinking feeling of dread. The horrible suspicion that made the hair on the back of my neck feel sharp, the air in my throat feel shallow.

But if I have learned anything of monsters, it is that they revel in that fear. That sickeningly overt reminder of mortality, of humanity. The way I couldn’t help the racing of my pulse, the darting of my eyes.

He enjoyed it, toying with me from the shadows. Watching me become desperate, watching me become weak.

But it paled in comparison, I’m sure, with what came next. Every story has its climax, and every beginning has its end. For him, it was the sweet, clean taste of my blood.

Wait. Another vampire story? One was strange enough, but for the last two published works at New Haven to be vampire related doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Especially since the more you read, the more you realize it’s not as much of a story as it is thinly veiled anti-vampire rhetoric.

The dramatized descriptions of a weak, innocent female lead being victimized by a faceless, bloodthirsty monster. It just feels… strange. Outdated. Irrelevant, even.

Clicking back to the list, you scan over the next five entries. All of them are more or less the same. Some are more metaphorical than others, abstract in their rhetoric, but the topic is always the same. And the conclusion always affirms the immense, inevitable, irredeemable blight that vampirism is to the world.

It’s just bizarre. Especially considering that Professor Kim never once had you analyze any anti-vampire propaganda throughout the entire semester. In fact, you were never assigned to read anything vampire related at all.

If this type of literature is so central to his professional career, it doesn't make sense to you that he wouldn’t incorporate it into his class. Especially considering the fact that he was awarding an internship at New Haven to one of the students.

You take another long sip of cold tea. Well… you could try to come up with something that aligns with the current profile of New Haven’s recently published works. It’s not like you’ve ever written anything related to vampires. Maybe you just need to think of it as a writing exercise, a challenge of sorts. Producing a piece that feels relevant and fresh even if the central topic is a bit out of style.

According to the revision schedule Professor Kim gave you, your first draft issue in a week and a half. The same day that you’re set to go to New Haven for the first time and tour the office you’ll be interning at once winter break is over. It’s an ambitious timeline, but he did specify that he’s looking more for a solid concept than a well polished draft. But something in you wants to have more than just a concept. You want his approval, to impress him.

So you have a week and a half to come up with a draft that will catch his attention, that will convince him that you were the right choice for this opportunity. Not anyone else in your class. Not Heeseung. You.

A concept that will excite New Haven Publishing House’s usual reader base, that will maybe actually earn you some commercial success.

A story that will prove to your parents that literature was the right choice for you. That your words do matter, that you can make a name for yourself with your writing.

Well, you think, suppressing an internal groan, it looks like you have your work cut out for you.

…..

Despite your admitted lack of vampiric knowledge, once you have your topic, the words start to flow. You’re not sure if it’s your best work. You’re not even sure if it’s good. But it feels a hell of a lot better than staring at a blank page for hours.

This afternoon finds you in the corner of your favorite coffee shop. Mostly because they offer half priced lattes on Wednesdays. As you make a dent in yours, the pen in your other hand continues to fly over the pages of your notebook, occasionally stopping to scratch out a word or rewrite a sentence.

The bare bones are there. Just like in the handful of stories you perused on New Haven’s website, your plot features a young woman. It’s a historic setting, mostly because you still can’t quite bring yourself to write vampires into the modern day when the reality is so starkly different.

And it’s not a vampire story. At least not at first glance. Instead, you weave an enduring metaphor to symbolize a parasitic relationship between two lovers.

The woman in your draft is young, full of life and energy and optimism. And she dreams. Vivid, brilliant dreams that she clings to in order to escape the harshness of her reality as a lower class woman in the countryside.

Her husband, however, is a brute. Older than her and with a decidedly less sunny disposition. When he learns that his health is failing, he discovers that he can heal himself temporarily by stealing these dreams from her.

So, no. It’s not overtly about vampires. But it does fall into step with some of the more abstract anti-vampire tropes you came across in your preliminary research.

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh.

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer.

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity.

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional.

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes.

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice.

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim.

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete, well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features.

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday.

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task.

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed.

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening.

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door.

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in.

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day.

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips.

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance.

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person.

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you.

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?”

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe.

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came.

Heeseung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it.

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches.

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost.

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you.

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway.

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to.

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes.

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego.

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.”

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now.

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly.

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life.

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heeseung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all.

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

Sensing your disdain, Heeseung doesn’t respond. Instead, he accepts the notebook you reluctantly hand him with an outstretched hand and an open palm. The transfer between the two of you is gentle. You have the distinct sense that he’ll treat your work with care, in more than one way.

Still, something in your heart seizes at the thought of letting your work be read. Of letting him be the one to read it.

In return, he offers you a notebook of his own. Bound in brown, aged leather, it’s certainly much more refined than yours. Of course.

He hands it to you still closed. Staring down at the cover, you ask, “What page?” It feels intrusive to start flipping through his writing uninvited.

“There’s a bookmark.” Heeseung nods his chin towards the small piece of paper sticking out of the top edge that you missed at first glance.

And then the transfer is complete. A piece of your heart is spread open on his desk, and a piece of his soul is in your hands.

Ignoring the way your fingers tremble with a slight shake, you delicately open his notebook to the bookmarked page, letting it fall open on the desk in front of you.

At first glance, the writing strikes you as odd. The paragraphs are strange lengths, ending at random junctures instead of extending all the way to the margins. And then it hits you. They’re not paragraphs. They’re stanzas.

Poetry. Lee Heeseung writes poetry.

You sneak a sidelong glance at him out of your periphery. He’s already engrossed in the pages of your notebook, pausing occasionally to jot a note down on a scrap piece of paper. His brow is furrowed, and there’s a tension in his jawline that only makes it sharper.

Still, the image of his profile is shrouded in a distinct sort of softness. The kind of effortless beauty that feels like it should be reserved for intimate moments in the dead of night, secrets passed between lovers. It’s wasted under the fluorescent lights and patchy, beige walls of an underfunded classroom, but you waste another minute staring at him all the same.

For a fleeting moment, it’s not hard to imagine those hands, those long, delicate fingers maintaining an even grip on a ballpoint pen to write something as romantic as poetry.

Shaking your head, you clear the errant thoughts. Instead, you turn your focus back to the page in front of you and begin with the first poem. Forcing your eyes to focus, you read.

As if nothing happened,

She looks at me

With shadowless eyes.

But it is me who has been

Forgiven and reborn countless times.

You inhale. Exhale. Short and succinct with a distinct twinge of tragedy. That was… not what you were expecting. Pushing forward, you move onto the next entry.

Even the stars in the universe

Will close their eyes one day.

Underneath their watchful gaze,

All of these moments are precious.

For memory, for regret,

I will carve them

Into the repetition of the moment.

Again, you pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s so… melancholy, so poignant in its evocation of pain, of regret. While you’ve been familiar with Heeseung’s ability to analyze the hell out of a novella, this was not something you thought you’d find in his repertoire. And the more you read on, the more you realize these aren’t flukes. This is his identity as a writer, or at least a significant part of it.

The world that abandoned us

Slowly turns to ash.

But I don’t feel the pain.

I only feel the cold.

My god. You nearly close the notebook on instinct. Without your permission, your eyes flick ove to the desk next to you. The broad set of shoulders that fill the seat. What has this boy been through? Why is he letting you read this?

Heeseung looks up. Not at you, but the movement is enough to startle you out of your staring. Returning your eyes to his notebook, you read the last entry on the page.

A shaded castle with no sun

The thick scent of dying roses never fades.

In a broken mirror, I see myself.

And my reflection whispers, “Monster.”

The breath you release is long. Audible. You’re overcome with the urge to run your fingers over his words, to feel the indents his pen made as he carved pain into the page. His writing is gorgeous. It’s beautifully, tragically haunting. Of that much, you’re certain. But you have no idea what to do with that information.

His words feel too raw, too terribly intimate. Like something that was never meant for your eyes. You can’t understand what on earth possibly possessed him to let — no — to encourage you to read these.

You can’t fathom any kind of feedback you could offer him. These feel like pieces of his soul, not something to be commodified or commented on in a writing workshop. Discussed in the cold, unfeeling walls of an old classroom.

Despite the discomfort that lingers with each passing stanza, his writing has an almost addictive quality. Over and over, you find yourself rereading each brief poem. You’re searching for meaning, for clarity, for something hidden between the lines that you missed on your first handful of reads.

Thirty minutes pass in a trance, and Heeseung, true to his word, is the one to break the silence when your half hour is up.

Mind still reeling, you realize with a sinking feeling that you have absolutely no feedback to give him at all.

Instead, you turn to face him. Throwing a meaningful glance at where your notebook still lies open on the desk in front of him. Doing your best to not look too hopeful, you ask, “Well?”

For a moment, Heeseung just looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Tension pulls at his temple, his jaw. Frustration seeps from beneath his skin, and you can’t tell where it’s directed.

“Oh, come on,” you prod when his silence extends even longer. “I know you’re dying to spill the gory details of how grossly incompetent I am and how horrifically amateur my writing is, so don’t—”

Heeseung wastes no fanfare. “This is awful.”

Your lips flatten. “Or just cut right to the chase.”

He’s quick to clarify. “But not for any of the reasons you just listed. I mean, sure, there are some craft issues here, but even those seem like a result of your concept.”

“What’s wrong with my concept?” The edge of defensiveness in your voice escapes without your permission.

Heeseung just levels you with a look. Returning his gaze to your notebook, he reads from your draft verbatim, “...Stashing away the light from her life. Tucking it into his back pocket like extra change just for the satisfaction of temporary happiness. It was never love that bound him to her, but the promise of a never ending fountain of life. Of wishes and thoughts and hopes and dreams that he could use to sustain himself as long as he subjected himself to the numbing pleasure of existing at her side.”

He raises an eyebrow, turns back to you. “I mean, really, ____? I’ve read some nauseatingly vitriolic vampire pieces in my life, and this just about has all of them beat. Besides, the whole vampire thing just feels so… irrelevant. Do people still read this stuff anymore?”

Your first instinct is to defend yourself, your work, even if his thoughts mirror your own. Before you can, Heeseung is pressing on. You don’t have the space to get a word in sideways. “I mean, what happened to the writing from that piece you presented back in September? I don’t remember all the details, but there was something about watching birds land on water and connecting it to the feeling of belonging but never truly fitting in.” He looks at you again. There’s more emotion, more glittering life in his eyes than you’ve ever seen from him before. “That was a fresh take and a well done metaphor.”

Your mind is reeling. It’s far too much information to take in all at once. But something stands out amongst the rest. Because that almost sounded like—

“Was that a compliment?” It seems unlikely, but you can’t find another way to take his words. “You paid attention to my presentation?”

You liked it? You don’t ask that question out loud, but the needier parts of you crave his answer anyway.

“Yeah, of course I did. Peer review was a mandatory component of the course.” Heeseung’s cheekbones remain the same, even, honey-tinted tone, but you swear you see a flash of embarrassment in the way he averts his gaze.

“Well, yeah.” It’s not a justification that holds much weight in your mind. “But you don’t exactly seem like the type to really pay attention to other people’s stuff. Especially if you think it’s not worth your time.”

“I just told you your presentation was good, didn’t I?”

You arch a brow. “Yeah, right after you finished calling my draft horrific.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “I didn’t say it was horrific…”

“Oh, please. Spare us both the semantics. That’s what you meant.” You’re not sure why your mind always goes back to that day in the quad, but you find yourself still sore from his rejection, his new assertion of your work poking at old wounds. Picking at poorly healed scabs. “And it’s not like you were jumping for joy at the chance to review my work back then, either.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. You can practically see the gears turning in his mind. You’re not sure if it makes you feel better or worse, the fact that he doesn’t seem to remember that day at all.

In the end, you decide to spare him the effort of empty recollection. With a sigh, you spill your shame. At least this time around, you’re the only two that will bear witness. “That one day in class. Back at the beginning of the semester. We had to present our analysis of that one short story. You remember, the one about planting seeds in bad soil.” Heeseung nods, but there’s no spark of realization. Not yet.

Continuing, it only pains you slightly to admit, “Your analysis was brilliant, and I gushed about it in front of the whole class. Laid it on thick with the compliments. And then after class, I stopped you in the quad.” Something flickers over Heeseung’s features. A memory tugging at the back of his mind. “When I asked if you wanted to review each other’s pieces for the next assignment, you completely brushed me off.”

Brow still pulled downwards, Heeseung is thinking back to that day, too. But it doesn't seem to hold the same awful, leaden weight in his mind. “I didn’t brush you off,” he argues. “I think I said I was busy.”

It takes a lot of willpower not to let your jaw drop open. “That’s brushing someone off!” Your voice is too loud for the near empty classroom, for your close proximity. “Like literally the textbook definition. Everyone knows that ‘I’m busy’ is code for ‘leave me the hell alone.’”

Almost imperceptibly, Heeseung’s features soften as he watches yours strain. The fluorescent light bulbs that fill the room suddenly don’t seem quite as harsh when he says, “Well, that's not what I meant. I was busy.”

It’s hardly a satisfying answer. But you suppose it makes little difference. If he wants to stick to his story, you’ll continue to feign indifference. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters now anyway.”

And then your mind is back on his poems. His beautiful, tragic, gorgeously phrased stanzas scribbled in his handwriting. Fragments of vulnerability that he handed to you without hesitation.

It’s like comparing apples to oranges in a way, but there is no doubt in your mind that between the two of you, the writing he brought tonight is better. Better than your story, better than most things you’ve ever written, probably. The imagery is evocative, striking in a way you’ve never quite been able to achieve no matter how many seminars and workshops and lectures you attend.

Not for the first time, your brain dangles a dangerous thought in a place where you can’t avoid it. What if Professor Kim chose wrong? What if Heeseung hadn’t been late to class that day? Would you be sitting here with a mediocre draft and a raging inferiority complex?

You’ll never know, not really, but you find yourself asking anyway, “Why were you late to class that day?”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could take them back. It’s not like his answer will change anything. And it’s invasive. Far too personal to ask someone you barely know. That up until thirty minutes ago, you actively avoided.

But maybe the universe is on your side for once. Maybe you got ridiculously lucky and he didn’t hear you, despite the fact that it’s dead silent in this classroom. Maybe—

“What?”

Or not.

Well, you’re committed now. “The last day of class. When the winner for the publishing opportunity was announced,” you clarify. “You were late. Honestly,” you add with a wry smile, “you’d probably be the one writing overdramatic vampire slander right now if you hadn’t been.”

It’s a self-deprecating joke. It might land poorly, but you’re hoping it will lighten the atmosphere.

A dark shadow crosses Heeseung’s features. “Trust me, ___. You winning had nothing to do with me being late that day.”

If he thinks flattery will get him anywhere, he’s wrong. You can feel your frustrations bubbling in your throat, clawing at your mind. You won. You beat him. So why doesn’t it feel like it? Why doesn’t it feel like anything you do is ever good enough?

“C’mon, Heeseung.” He doesn’t deserve your anger. At least, not now. But he gets it anyway. Insecurities and inferiority and frustration all wrapped in rage. “You were practically a shoe-in, and everyone knows it.”

He’s just as insistent. Leaning towards you slightly, he looks anything but aloof now. “No I wasn’t. Professor Kim chose you to intern with him. He read both of our submissions all semester and chose you to publish with his firm. I told you, your writing is good. Really good.” Glancing down at your notebook, he adds, “Even if this one is a bit… uninspired.”

A compliment and a slight. His version of the truth, wrapped up in a bow and delivered right to your waiting ears. You don’t know whether to be furious or overjoyed. Maybe it would be best to feel absolutely nothing at all. It scares you, just how much weight his opinion holds.

But approval from him has its way of feeling like a long sought victory, and now the air feels fraught with something delicate, fragile. Precarious, even.

It’s early evening in a threadbare classroom. The most neutral territory imaginable. But it’s the two of you, alone, secluded. And suddenly, that frightens you.

“Right.” You won’t tell him ‘thank you’ for the compliment or ‘go fuck yourself’ for the criticism. Both options feel like you would be revealing too much.

Instead, you take a glance at the clock. It’s not late, but it’s an excuse. “I should probably get going.”

Heeseung exhales. Leans back in his seat. “Of course,” he concedes easily, reaching to hand you your notebook.

You do the same with his, almost sad to watch his poetry pass from your hands to his. It’s odd, the way his words already feel like something you’ll miss.

You realize then that he hasn’t asked you for your opinion on his work. For your advice on how to make it better. In all honesty, you’re relieved. You haven’t the slightest idea what you would say.

So instead, you busy yourself with repacking your tote bag. In your haste, you knock your pen off of your desk. The sound it makes as it strikes the thinning carpet can’t be loud, but it feels thunderous in your ears.

As you reach to pick it up, Heeseung does the same. There’s a moment, fleeting but unmistakable, when the skin of his hand brushes against yours.

Instantly, Heeseung recoils as if you’ve burned him. His hand is back in his own space at a speed so fast you nearly miss it.

It was an accident, a tiny blip with no real consequences, but the way he’s looking at you with those damn eyes makes you feel like you should be apologizing.

“Sorry.” The severity of his reaction stings like rejection. It’s not like he’s exactly your favorite person either, but at least you have the common decency to not look repulsed at the thought of touching him. At the accidental brushing of your hands.

Heeseung frowns. Shakes his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. “No, I…” he trails off, letting his words hang in the air for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he concludes, but it feels disingenuous. And he doesn’t bother to elaborate. Looking over your shoulder, he reads the clock on the wall. “It’s getting kind of late. Where are you parked? I can walk you to your car.”

His hands are busy putting his notebook back in his back. It’s a considerate offer, but coming on the tail end of everything else, it doesn’t hold much weight with you. His words don’t match his actions, and you decide you’d be a fool to take them at face value.

“Don’t bother. I’m walking home, not driving.”

Heeseung freezes, hand still inside his bag. He’s not looking at you, but you feel the weight of his attention all the same. “Do you need someone to walk with you?”

The way he phrases the question makes you feel like a burden. He’s asking if you need someone to walk with you, not offering because he wants to. A subtle difference maybe, but the last thing you want is to feel like you owe him any favors.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He does look at you now, concern painted across his features. “It’s getting dark earlier these days, and—”

His words are wasted on you. You’re already halfway to the door. “I’m sure.” But before you leave, you decide one more hit to your pride can’t worsen the damage that’s already been done. At least this time, it will be by your doing. Standing under the doorframe, you turn back to him. “Thank you for your feedback. It was good to hear an honest opinion.”

Your words sink into the air. Linger for a moment.

Heeseung nods. Something in his jaw tightens. “You know, if you do decide to change topics, I’d be happy to read whatever you write.”

It almost sounds like another compliment. Or maybe another insult. Either way, you’re sure that even if you figure it out, you’ll still have no idea what to do with it. You nod, only once, and then your back is turned again before you can linger too long on any of it.

But his words, the sweet ones this time, replay in your mind the entire walk home.

Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by the ghosts of compliments, you’d have noticed the pair of quiet, even footsteps that trailed after you in the distance. That only retreated once the front door to your apartment was pulled shut and locked tight behind you.

Then again, maybe not. Heeseung has always had a knack for going undetected.

…..

You wake up the next morning with Heeseung’s words replaying in your mind.

Awful. Irrelevant. And of course your favorite, ‘nauseatingly vitriolic vampire piece.’

In the faded glow of morning light, you groan out loud to your empty bedroom. The worst part of it all is that he’s not even wrong. But it’s Saturday morning, and your first draft is due on Wednesday. The thought of starting a new story from scratch and writing it to completion within that time frame is enough to make you want to curl into a ball and screw your eyes shut until you can pretend the world outside your bedroom is nothing but a figment of your imagination.

So no, you don’t think you can start over entirely. But maybe, just maybe, you can rework things. Tweak the narrative to feel less cliche, less outdated. More true to you.

Part of you wants to abandon the vampire concept entirely, convinced it’s what’s holding you down. The other part is hesitant to do so based on New Haven’s list of recently published works.

And while Heeseung’s criticism was the confirmation you needed that your story needs reworking, it’s not like he gave you any ideas as to what you should change. What direction you should take.

Nauseatingly vitriolic vampire piece. That seemed to be Heeseung’s biggest problem with your draft. Not that it alluded to vampirism. No, you think he disliked that it was a tired and rehashed propaganda piece on the inherent evilness of vampires.

Everyone knows that vampires were monsters. Writing about it, no matter how many metaphors and symbolic phrases you wrap it up in, just isn’t interesting.

That’s the route you’ll take, then, you decide. You don’t have to invent a new concept out of thin air. You just need to find a way to bring something new to the table. Something worth reading. Climbing out of bed, you switch your pajamas for clothes more acceptable in public.

And then you make your way to the university library.

Just as you suspected, it’s essentially empty. Between long rows of meticulously shelved books, vacant study rooms, and community computers, the only other person you see is the librarian that greets you as you arrive. Even her eyebrows raise in mild shock to see someone else during the break, and on a weekend at that.

Heading to the second floor, the first section you peruse through is historical records. But between old newspapers, reports, and journals, the content itself is quite cut and dry. Detached descriptions of vampire attacks that only contain details of the date, time, and death toll aren’t exactly riveting. And you don’t think they’ll do much for your feeble draft.

Before long, you move away from the nonfiction section. Navigating to supernatural fiction on the third floor, you start browsing titles. Vampire stories make up a rather small portion of the texts, and from what you can tell, the vast majority align with what you found on New Haven’s website.

From Demons of the Dark to Left in Cold Blood, you doubt that most of what you find will offer any kind of new perspective. But on your third, slightly desperate scouring of the shelf, you make a discovery.

It’s a small, nondescript book. The muted tones and faded lettering on the spine go easily undetected amongst the much flashier copies of anti-vampire propaganda it’s nestled between.

Pulling the book out from the shelf with a delicate touch, you flip the cover face-up in your hand.

Sacred Monsters: A Collection of Essays on the Origins of Immortality

It piques your interest. At the very least, it seems different from all the other novels.

Book in hand, you make your way to a nearby desk. Once you’re settled in, you pull out your notebook, opening to a new page with the intention of taking notes.

The book you lay on the desk next to your notebook seems like it’s lived a long life, the old scent of dust and aged paper and time all contained within its pages. Flipping open the front cover, you look for an author or publication date. But there’s nothing there, not even a title page or a table of contents.

Glossing over the slight oddity, you decide the beginning is as good a place as any to start.

The Taste of Blood, is the title at the top of the page.

And the first sentence begins:

It is neither sweet nor particularly savory. There is no distinct aroma, no compelling flavor profile, nothing that appeals to the eye or excites the taste buds. The only merit is the fact that it is necessary. For even those blessed with immortality know what it means to survive. And even those cursed to live forever know what it means to die.

Frowning, you flip back to the cover, as if that will provide any clarity for the strange passage you just read. But nothing is different. Nothing new stands out. Just the same, faded title. No author or indication of any kind of publication date.

Intrigued, you turn back and resume where you left off.

Some are said to enjoy the act. The purity of release, of giving in to the instincts that can be convinced into domesticity but never fully silenced. I have never found such relief. The ghost of my humanity has always been stronger than the voice of the monster, even as he screams with unbounded ferocity.

Without it, I feel incomplete. With it, I feel irredeemable. Even now, I dodge the truth, omit the profane. I have seen many moons, enjoyed their silver glow. I have stolen the very same pleasure from countless others. And yet, I struggle to call it by name. I cannot reconcile the battles waged in my bones, the war fought in my mind.

There is no winner in either. All that remains in the taste of it. Lingering on my breath. Haunting my waking dreams. That which I cannot name.

The taste of blood.

In my fervor, it soothes like honey. In my regret, it turns to ash.

And still, nothing changes. And still, nothing remains the same.

-- Anonymous

Well, if you were looking for something different, you found it. Because what the absolute fuck are you reading? If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it were written from the perspective of a vampire.

Then again, shelved in the fiction section, you suppose it’s plausible. Actual vampires may have housed little room in their consciousness for anything outside of bloodlust, but it is an interesting idea to think of vampires as conflicted. Haunted by the brutality of their innate instincts.

You’re not exactly sure how or if this will be able to influence your own story for the better, but something about it makes you want to keep reading.

Alone, tucked amongst the dusty shelves of a neglected section of the library, you lose yourself between the pages of the mysterious book.

As the title indicated, it’s a collection of essays. Most are quite short, around the same length as the first one you read. And none are claimed by an author. All are signed off with the same boldface type that spells Anonymous. There are subtle differences in the writing though, stylistic choices that make you think that more than one person wrote these essays.

Despite that, they’re all woven together by a common thread. The first essay, as you discover, was not a fluke. Every single one is written in first person from the perspective of a vampire.

The writing is compelling, humorous in places and deeply upsetting in others. It seems odd to you, just how much humanity is captured within the pages, within each turn of phrase.

You feel inclined to root for the narrator in some stories and abjectly horrified by them in others. But never once does the writing make you think that vampires are incapable of self-actualization, of reflection, of morality.

In all honesty, aside from Heeseung’s poems, it’s the most interesting thing you’ve read in ages. So much so that by the time you realize you’ve finished the last essay, the winter sun is teeming dangerously close to the horizon, and the library is nearing its closing hours.

The notebook page you intended to use for notes, to jot down points of inspiration, is still woefully blank. But as you make your way back to the front of the library, the small, strange book comes along with you.

Stopping at the front desk to formally check it out, the librarian frowns when she enters the number from the spine into the system. She clicks around on her computer for a moment longer before handing the book back to you.

“I’m sorry, but the book isn’t coming up in our system for some reason. Would you mind writing down your student ID number for me? I’ll have to enter the information manually.”

You oblige her request, tucking the book into your bag before you leave.

It’s chilly outside, the cold clutches of winter gaining a full grasp on the crisp, frigid air. After a long day in a stuffy library, the freezing air is almost soothing. Tucking your hands into your pockets, you turn towards the direction that will take you home.

You’ve barely taken five steps when a voice calls your name from behind. Pausing, you turn to find the source of the sound.

“Heeseung?” But there’s no mistaking it. That is most definitely Lee Heeseung, currently jogging towards you on the otherwise empty sidewalk in front of the university library.

He catches up to you easily, no sign of perspiration or even a hint of breathlessness when he asks, “What are you doing walking alone at night?” As if you’re the strange one in this situation.

You give him a once over. The loose jeans and dark winter coat he wears are nothing special, but he wears them well regardless. You suppress the urge to sigh. “I could ask you the same.”

“Fair enough.” His tone is too light, too casual. Like he’s forcing it. Like he’s hiding something. “Are you headed home? I’ll walk you there.”

And if you weren’t suspicious before, you sure as hell are now. Why on earth would he want to walk you home? “I’m fine, thanks.” You turn away from him, heading in the direction of your apartment and hoping he’ll take the hint.

Your wish goes ungranted. He matches your pace easily, even as you try to quicken it. “It’s after dark, ___. And there are a lot of…” He trails off, searching for the right word. “strange people out at night these days. I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

Lips tight, you don’t bother looking at him. The idea of Heeseung letting you do anything makes you want to throw things. “I’ll be fine.”

But he’s persistent. He’s all smiles and a strange amount of desperate when he says, “Either you let me walk you back or I’ll just follow you at a weird distance, which will be far more uncomfortable for both of us.”

That makes you stop in your tracks. And now you do turn to look at him. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Heeseung nods, “Exactly. So—”

You arch an unimpressed brow, crossing your arms over your chest. “It sounds like you’re the strange person at night I need to stay away from.”

Heeseung sighs, matches your eye. A strand of hair falls into his eyes, and he pushes it away with long fingers. “Are you gonna start walking or are we gonna stand here and argue a little longer?”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“What a great night to find out.”

You stare at him a moment longer, lips tight. You don’t want to be the one to give in, to hand him any kind of victory, no matter how small.

But it is getting late. The walk from campus to your apartment is never one that’s made you uneasy, but it never hurts to have someone at your side. Besides, you think he was serious about following you. He’s made it clear that he’ll be tagging along one way or another.

“Fine,” you huff, arms still crossed over your chest. “But only because the streetlight a few blocks away is out.”

Heeseung inclines his head, a minute acknowledgement. There’s a hint of movement at the corner of his lips. “Naturally.”

You resume walking, and he falls into your pace with a practiced ease, hands in his pocket, eyes on the stars. It’s a cloudless evening. The sky above you feels vast, immense as the last rays of daylight lie to rest on the distant horizon.

With a slight shiver, you pull your jacket tighter around your body. Heeseung notices the movement. Parts his lips as if he wants to say something. Changes his mind. Closes them.

You’ve just reached the far edge of campus when he breaks the steady silence.

“How’s your draft coming?”

“It’s…” You trail off, not sure how well honesty will serve you here. It feels vulnerable, like a blatant weakness to admit that you’ve got nothing. But something about cold air and the vast expanse of night has you wanting to tell the truth. “Not great.”

Heeseung lets your response settle. Turns it over in his mind a few times. You’ve noticed that about him. He’s careful with his responses. Weighs his words before breathing them to life. “Still looking for inspiration?”

“I don’t know if it’s inspiration I need.” It’s easier to talk to him like this, when your eyes have something to focus on, when your body has the constant repetition of steps to occupy part of your mind. Without little distractions like these, Heeseung has a way of becoming all consuming. “I feel like I backed myself into a corner with the vampire concept. I’m not sure if there's really anything there to explore that won’t feel outdated and irrelevant.”

“Mm,” Heeseung muses. It’s noncommittal, neither an agreement nor an argument. “Maybe. You said it yourself; vampires are nothing but bloodlust. Riled completely by instinct. Nothing left of their humanity.”

Frowning, your footsteps almost falter. “I didn’t say that.”

“Forgive me.” If there’s a tinge of bitterness in his tone, you suppose it must be because of the cold. The fact that he’s wasting his Saturday night walking you home. “Heavily implied it.”

“Honestly, the only reason I even wrote that story was because there were a lot of similar ones on New Haven’s list of recently published works.” Your reasoning feels almost stupid when you admit it aloud like this. You’ve always prided yourself on your originality, your commitment to staying true to yourself as a writer. But when push comes to shove, you let your desire to impress your professor get in the way of that. “I wanted something that would align with their usual publications.”

You’ve admitted a weakness, a poorly made choice. You’re expecting ire, more of that haughty contempt. But Heeseung’s mind is going in an entirely different direction.

He’s not questioning your abilities, not even alluding to them at all when he asks, “What do you think of vampires, then?”

His question catches you off guard. Why on earth would he care about that? “What’s it to you?”

“My bad. We can just walk in awkward silence if you prefer.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of your energy to swallow the laugh that bubbles in your throat. Since when did Heeseung crack jokes? Since when did you have to fight the urge to giggle at them like a schoolgirl with a crush? You suddenly find yourself grateful for the cover of night, the way shadows make the heat on your cheeks undetectable.

But his question still lingers. Ruminating on it, your mind flickers to the small, odd book currently sitting at the bottom of your bag.

Sacred Monsters.

It feels like a strange combination of words, two concepts that shouldn’t fit together.

“I think it’s more complicated than that,” you breathe. You don’t know if it could possibly be true, the idea that creatures of the night have a high level of consciousness, the ability to moralize, to feel conflicted. But it certainly makes for a more interesting story.

“I mean, vampires had to have some level of base cognition, right?” You’ll never know for sure, but the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. “They were hunted to near extinction, but they put up a good fight. They hid. They fled. They tried blending in as humans. Some resorted to drinking animal blood. I guess there’s no way of knowing, but that doesn’t feel like pure biology or an evolutionary response alone. It feels like… something a human would do.”

“Wouldn’t that be worse?” Heeseung’s voice is low. If the faint hum of faraway traffic were any louder, you might not hear him at all. “For them to know what it means to be alive and still make the choice to take that away from someone else? To exist as a parasite.”

“It would certainly be tragic.” The words of the first essay come back to you.

For even those blessed with immortality know what it means to survive. And even those cursed to live forever know what it means to die.

“It’s a fatal flaw, a cruel design. They need blood to survive. The very thing that their bodies used to create on their own. It’s parasitic, yes, but that doesn’t make it animal instinct. I can’t imagine the horror of having to experience that with the burden of human consciousness.”

You feel the weight of Heeseung’s gaze on the side of your face. “It’s still evil, is it not?”

His words feel heavy, weighted under moonlight. Though you can’t imagine why, you have the distinct sense that your answer is important to him.

“Like I said, I think it’s more complicated than that. Taking someone’s life is evil, yes, but that was never unique to vampires. Is a vampire that chooses animal blood still evil just because they’re a vampire? Is a human that chooses to kill another absolved of their crime just by virtue of being human?”

Your words settle into the space between you.

“That,” Heeseung finally breathes, “would make a much better story than the one I read last night.”

This time, you do laugh, a light airy thing. It feels easy, lighthearted as some of the tension drains from the atmosphere.

“Unfortunately, I’m not so sure Professor Kim would agree. Based on everything New Haven publishes, he seems to have some weird anti-vampire vendetta.”

As you round the corner, your apartment comes into view. Nodding toward the staircase that leads to your front door, you tell him, “This is me, by the way.”

Heeseung glances at the stairs, then back at you. He shoves his hands into his coat pockets. “When is your draft due?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groan. “Wednesday.”

“Mm,” he winces, an offer of understanding. “What time?”

“I’m supposed to be at New Haven by three, so—”

“What?” Heeseung cuts you off, expression suddenly tense, voice suddenly sharp. “You’re going to the publishing office?”

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, unsure why that would possibly warrant such a strong reaction. “I’m dropping off my first draft and getting a tour. The internship starts right when spring semester does, so he told me I could come in person to familiarize myself with the space first.”

“Right.” Heeseung nods. The tension in his jaw doesn’t relax.

It’s all so strange. He always seems to be speaking in riddles, dealing with invisible problems you can’t detect.

You’re tired and confused, and the moon that hangs above you doesn’t feel like a remedy for either of those things. In fact, it might be making things worse.

Because despite the way you feel like you’ll never quite understand him, bathed in the shimmering glow of moonlight, Heeseung looks…

He looks like all the things you’ve been trying to avoid calling him for the duration of the semester. Ethereal. Beautiful. Maybe even kind, at least when he wants to be.

After all, you’re standing at the base of your staircase with company, and it wasn’t due to any insistence on your end.

The silence lingers. A string somewhere is pulled taught.

You’re standing still, and you’re still a little breathless when you tell him, “I should go.” You don’t want to. You’re not sure why.

Again, Heeseung only nods.

The movement sends shadows dancing over his features. The bridge of his nose. The plane of his cheek. The line of his jaw. Things you’ve never let yourself linger on. Things you’re having a hard time looking away from now.

But he’s seen you home safe and sound, and even nights under the stars have their inevitable end.

It occurs to you then that you have no idea how he plans to get home, or even how far away he lives.

After he walked you home,it’s the least you could do to offer, “Do you live far? I could help you pay for a cab or something if—”

Heeseung shakes his head. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It won’t take me long. Besides, I like to walk at night.”

“Okay.” It feels strange, trading these bits of kindness. You’re craving some normalcy, something unwavering. So with a final wave and a small goodnight, you climb the stairs to your door.

You couldn’t say for sure if his eyes follow you on the way up. You feel the heat of them, the weight of a steady gaze on your spine. But it’s a fickle sensation and you’ve been wrong before. And you can’t quite bring yourself to turn around and look.

The door closes behind you. Surrounded by the stillness of an empty apartment, you release a long held exhale. It drains out of you audibly. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath.

…..

Dawn breaks Wednesday morning and carries with it a certain kind of dread.

Despite your efforts, and there have been many, your draft remains far too close to its original state for your satisfaction. No matter how many times you pour over Sacred Monsters, you can never quite seem to find a way to make your submission more interesting while also staying true to New Haven’s general themes.

If anything, the book has been a distraction. Long hours that you could have spent editing or revising or rewriting were instead dedicated to detailed web searches with a variety of keywords and spellings that never seemed to bear any fruit.

It doesn’t matter which search engine you use. It doesn’t matter which database you browse. Other than the copy sitting on your desk, Sacred Monsters doesn’t seem to exist.

But the annoying, wonderful, awful thing about time is that it passes. Time doesn’t care that you haven’t found it in yourself to produce a draft you’re proud of. Time doesn’t relent just because you always feel like it’s slipping through your fingers.

And Wednesday morning turns to Wednesday afternoon with the same steady predictability as always.

You’d like to think that you know the area around your university quite well, but New Haven’s main office is in an entirely different part of the city. You’ll have to leave now if you want to catch the bus with a little cushion of time to spare. The last thing you want to do is be late to your first day. Especially since the draft tucked neatly into your bag isn’t one you can hand over with confidence.

To your relief, the bus is relatively empty. You tuck yourself into a seat and thank your lucky stars that you missed the afternoon rush.

Popping your headphones in, you’re searching for something to fill the time. There’s the draft sitting in your bag, of course, but the last thing you want to do is spend the next thirty minutes agonizing over it. For now, it will just have to be the mess of mediocrity that it is.

Instead, you reach for your phone. Maybe some mindless scrolling will be what you need to put your nerves at ease.

But when the app loads, the first post you see doesn’t have you giggling or rolling your eyes or scrolling on without a thought at all. Instead, your spine straightens, shoulders suddenly tense.

Because the words you’re reading are not something you ever expected to see in your lifetime.

Three dead in suspected vampire attack, the latest headline from your local news reporting channel reads.

Clicking on the article, the details are hazy, but that does little to lessen the grip of fear that makes a sudden grab at your throat. Fragments of sentences capture your attention as you scan the page.

Three bodies found near the river…

Bite marks on their necks…

No trace of recent animal activity in the area…

Eyes widening with every new piece of information, fear claws at your throat.

Bodies completely drained of blood.

Two hundred years. Two hundred years of the belief that vampires have all but been eradicated. Shattered in one fell swoop.

And in your city, of all places. At the river. Somewhere you’ve been. Somewhere you wouldn’t think twice about going. It’s not particularly close to your apartment or university, but it’s not exactly far enough away for comfort.

You shudder, suddenly grateful that Heeseung was there to walk you home last night. Not that he would be able to do much if you did stumble across the path of a vampire, but—”

Oh god. Oh god.

Heeseung.

You have no idea if he made it home safe after parting ways with you and you have no way of checking. He hadn’t made any indication as to where he lived before saying goodnight. For all you know, he could have been heading in the direction of the river. He could have been at the river. Right when the attacks occurred.

Doubling down on your phone, you scour the article for any information you can find on the victims. Objectively, it’s probably a good thing that they’re described only vaguely. Probably an intentional choice to protect the privacy of grieving friends and families.

But ‘three victims, two men and one woman, all in their early twenties’ does very, very little to assuage your terror. In fact, it only heightens it.

Blood pounding in your ears and dread pooling in your stomach, thirty minutes passes in the blink of an eye, you nearly miss your stop. But as you get off of the bus, you’re spiraling. Should you even be here? It feels wrong, leaving such a terrifying loose end untied.

But then you think it through a little further. Even if you got back on the bus, rode it all the way to the stop by your apartment, you have no idea where you’d go from there. You may have shared insults and confidence and a moment under the moonlight with Heeseung, but you don’t know anything about him. Where he lives, where to reach him, where he could possibly be right now.

But Professor Kim might. You’re sure that student information is strictly confidential, but if you explain the situation to him, he might be understanding, might just be willing to bend the rules a bit for you.

So with a heaviness in your heart and fire in your footsteps, you double check the address of New Haven’s office and start walking away from the bus stop. Your surroundings are not a primary area of your focus, but it does strike you as odd how deserted the whole area seems.

Other than a few residential looking buildings, the street you walk is mostly empty lots. Abandoned houses. Not the kind of place you would consider ideal for any business.

Despite the cold morning sunshine, the afternoon has brought a cover of clouds. Squinting towards the distance, you wonder if you should have brought your umbrella, just in case. It almost looks as if it’s going to rain.

When you do finally find the building, you have to stop to double check the address. Not only is there no signage, but New Haven’s supposed headquarters looks just as run down as all of the other buildings in the area.

Frowning, you reread your email. The address does match the faded numbers next to the front door, and Professor Kim seems too meticulous to make a mistake like an incorrect address. Then again, he also seems too well off to run his publishing company out of a decrepit building far away from any of the city’s major business centers.

But you won’t bother worrying about it now. Even your dreary first draft feels like an afterthought at this point. Who cares if the building’s not what you expected, if the location isn’t ideal? Right now, you need to focus on finding Heeseung, on making sure he’s okay.

Because the alternative…

No, you refuse to let yourself spiral there either. But the pressure of grief borrowed from the future is already pressing firmly against the backs of your eyelids, blurring your surroundings.

As you approach the front door, you notice a small, faded placard.

New Haven. Well, at least that confirms that you’re in the right spot. Even if it is a bit odd that they left off Publishing.

Standing at the door, you hesitate. Should you knock? Just walk in? You take a sidelong glance at the window, scanning for any sign of movement. But there’s nothing there. In fact, it looks as if the lights are off.

Dark, quiet, desolate. Strange, yes, but not something you’ll waste time ruminating on now.

You knock once. Twice. The sound echoes; the only response is the whistling of the wind.

Deep in the pit of your stomach, a sense of unease begins to build. It feels off, like something is wrong. Senses on high alert, you force the feeling aside. You need a way to find Heeseung, to make sure he’s okay. Besides, the lingering unease is probably just the anxiety of not knowing if he’s safe.

Steeling your resolve, you reach for the door handle, twisting it tentatively. It opens slowly, the hinges groaning in protest. As if the building itself doesn’t want you there. Stepping inside does little to shake the feeling. Dark and devoid of any decoration, the interior is nearly as gloomy as the sunless sky outside.

And even the layout of the building is strange. The front door opens to a long, dark hallway with no lights on. It’s eerily quiet. Too quiet. Too empty. You weren’t expecting a welcoming party by any means, but it’s hard to imagine anyone, much less Professor Kim, even being here.

“Hello?” You call, clutching your bag a little closer to your body, suppressing the shudder that licks at the base of your spine. “Professor Kim?” You wait a moment, but sustained silence is the only response.

Forcing your footsteps forward, you tread tentatively down the hallway. After all, you didn’t come this far just to turn around. Especially now that Professor Kim might be your only way of finding Heeseung.

Taking slow steps down the dark hallway, you pass two doors, both of them pulled shut. The end of the hall opens into a larger room, still empty of any furnishings. It certainly doesn’t look like a publishing house. It doesn't look like much at all. At the very least, there’s a bit more visibility here, faint traces of faded daylight streaming in through the half drawn blinds on the other side of the room.

Turning to your left, you see another door. This one is also pulled shut, but there’s a name placard on the front. Drawing closer, you read your professor’s name. It still doesn't feel right. Ducking down slightly, you check the gap between the bottom of the door and the hardwood floor for any sign of light, of movement. But it’s just as dark, just as quiet as the rest of the strange building.

As you stand back up to your full height, you raise a hand to knock. Just before your knuckles make contact with the door, you see it. An odd array of crimson stains near the handle. Peering closer, your brow furrows in a combination of disgust and confusion.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think it looked like blood.

But that doesn’t make any sense. None of this does. You won’t pretend to know Professor Kim, but he’s never shown up to a lecture with so much as a hair out of place. Why on earth would he run his publishing company out of a building that’s nearly falling apart? Why would there be strange, suspicious looking stains on the door to his office? Why would it be empty at the time he asked you to come present your draft and tour your future internship location?

You have no idea what to do. Opening the door to his office and letting yourself in would feel like an inappropriate invasion of privacy, but you’re at a loss. This entire thing is so strange.

Before you can decide how to proceed, you hear something. A faint noise, barely there, but distinct from the wind that still whistles outside. It’s disjointed, arrhythmic like the sound of hushed voices. Overlapping. Arguing, maybe.

Inclining your head, your brow creases further. It sounds like it’s coming from your professor’s office, but how could it be? The noises are too muffled, too distant to be coming from right in front of you.

You lean closer. Deciding you’re past the point of maintaining decorum, you press your ear to the door, careful to avoid any of the suspicious looking stains.

For a moment, you hear nothing. Half convinced the voices were nothing but a figment of your overactive imagination, you almost pull away.

But then you hear them again. Still muffled, still indecipherable, but undoubtedly louder than before. Which means they must be coming from behind the door. The voices pause, suspend you in silence once again.

And then you hear another noise, different this time. Less like a voice and more like movement. Scuffling, maybe. Feet dragging against the floor. It’s punctuated by a strange gurgling noise. Something wet and thick and throaty. The kind of sound that makes you wince in a subconscious reaction.

And then a sudden thump has your bones jolting beneath your skin, everything muscle in your body tensing as you suppress an uninvited gasp. Because that didn’t sound far away. It was loud, too loud to be anywhere but right on the other side of the door.

Mild unease is quick to transform into sheer panic as you stagger backwards on shaky footsteps. You need to leave. You need to leave now.

You’ll find another way to get ahold of Heeseung, to make sure he’s okay. And maybe there’s a rational explanation for all of this. Maybe this is an old New Haven office and Professor Kim forgot to send you the new address. Maybe there’s an email in your inbox now, and he’s apologizing for the oversight and rescheduling your draft meeting. Maybe he’s—

The sound of the front door you walked in through minutes ago slamming shut kills the train of thought. This time, you can’t bite down the noise that crawls up your throat.

It’s stupid, from a logical perspective. A fatal flaw of human nature that your first instinct is to scream. To alert whatever danger surely lurks nearby of your exact location, the precise depth of your fear.

But the terror that leaves your lips is muffled. It comes from behind, the palm that covers your mouth. The outline of a body that presses into your back, forces you into submission with a hand around your wrist.

You thrash against the ironclad grip to no avail. Dig your heels into the ground but find little purchase in the hardwood floor as you’re dragged backwards, every nerve in your body singing with terror as you’re forced into a dark room. Even with your elbows flailing and head jerking, the grip on you remains steady, firm.

In the end, it’s a bite that frees you. The hand that covers your mouth drops away as soon as you sink your teeth into the flesh of your captor’s fingers. There’s a muffled grunt of pain in your ear as you spin on your heel.

Again, it’s stupid. You should be running, sprinting in the opposite direction, but everything in you is begging to know. To gain some sense of control over the situation. Eyes still adjusting to the dark and blinded by fear, you turn to find—

“Heeseung?” Your mind is spinning a million miles a minute. There are too many thoughts, too many emotions to keep up with. Relief. Fear. Confusion.

Relief, because he’s okay and he’s here, but—

“What are you doing?” You have a million questions that demand answers. “Why are you here? Why did you grab me like th—”

“Are you okay?” Heeseung takes a step closer to you, reaches his hands out as if to grab you again. Thinking better of it, he lets them fall back to his side with a slight shake of his head. There’s terror in his eyes too when he clarifies, “You’re not hurt?”

“No, I…” What the hell is going on? “I’m fine, but—”

A flash of relief makes itself apparent on Heeseung’s features before they’re morphing again, regaining all the urgency, the fear that was there before. He’s serious, gravely so when he tells you, “We have to get out of here.”

“Okay,” you stumble forward as he reaches for your wrist again, intent on tugging you behind him. “But I don’t understand. What’s—”

“I’ll explain everything later.” He’s frantic, you realize. Desperate. And so terribly afraid. Emotions you’ve never seen him wear. Not in the cool, calm mask of indifference he had in class. Not in the faint flickers of vulnerability from stolen moments under moonlight. This is different. This is so much worse. “But we have to go. Now.”

With that much command in his voice, that much fear in his eyes, you’re putty in his hands. But in the end, it makes little difference. The door to the room he’s dragged you into opens with a resounding bang before the two of you can make your escape. The sound is so loud, so frightening that you feel reverberations in your marrow as the door collides with the room’s interior wall, no doubt leaving a sizable dent.

And standing there, shrouded by the gray tones of sunless winter daylight, your professor blocks the room’s only exit.

Instinctively, you take a step closer to Heeseung. He does the same, pulling you towards him, behind him, until half of your body is covered by his. Peering over his shoulder, the sight that greets you is one that will haunt waking nightmares for a long time to come.

Professor Kim, who always prided himself on maintaining a neat, clean appearance couldn’t be further from that now. His clothes are ripped, hanging from his body at odd angles, adding an element of disfigured monstrosity to his silhouette.

And his eyes. His eyes. Bloodshot and so wide they must hurt, they dart around the room, narrow in on you and Heeseung like he doesn’t see humans. Only targets. Enemies. Prey. Mouth open and snarling, you swear you see a glint in his mouth, the shape of a tooth far too long and pointed to belong to any normal person.

But even those things you could force yourself to forget.

What horrifies you the most is the blood. Even in the shadows, the unnaturally potent shade of crimson is unmistakable. It stains him, covers him, drips from him. Seeps from his clothes and his skin and his mouth.

Panic clawing at your throat, you suppress the urge to vomit.

“Get behind me,” Heeseung whispers, low. “Now.”

But a split second of averted attention is all your professor needs. Professor Kim, lover of literature, beacon of taste, a role model you’ve looked up to since the first time you stepped foot in his class a handful of months ago, pinches a tiny object between his long, bony, blood-covered fingers. And then he throws it.

With startling precision, it whistles through the air, races through a hazy cloud of confusion and panic before it strikes its target true.

It doesn’t hurt, not really. The hand that flies to the side of your neck is instinct, more than anything. But the fingers that linger on your pulse point don’t find the smooth expanse of your unblemished throat that they usually would.

Because there’s something there now. An object lodged just beneath your jaw. Delicately, you draw your hand back in front of your face. There’s no blood on your fingers, but that doesn’t stop them from shaking.

As you look over Heeseung’s shoulder, the world starts to blur around the edges. Darken, as if your eyes are closing of their own volition, against your will. You see him retreat, the terrible ghost of your professor. In the dark, he looks almost forlorn. Regretful.

“Fuck,” Heeseung whispers. He doesn’t see the way your professor spins on his heel, runs in the opposite direction. His attention is trained fully on the space beneath your jaw. “Fuck.”

“Heeseung?” Your voice sounds strange to your own ears. Distant, muffled as if you’re submerged beneath water. You have so many questions.

But it’s suddenly so cold. And you’re so tired. Wouldn’t it be nice to just lay down? Rest for a moment? Surely that couldn’t hurt anything.

Your legs are wobbly beneath you, and you would collapse to the floor in an ungraceful heap if it weren’t for the two hands on your waist, supporting your weight.

“I’m here,” he tells you. Cold. When did it get so cold? Your eyes try to focus on Heeseung, but your vision is swimming. You wonder if he would be warm. “I’m right here. Just… fuck.”

Gently, he eases you both to the ground. The floor is hard beneath you, but it feels like a reprieve. You’re tired of holding the weight of your body upright. Your blinking is becoming slow, lethargic. Your head is suddenly far too heavy for your neck.

Slowly, Heeseung removes his hands from your waist, relocates them to either side of your jaw. With the care of someone well versed in patience, he delicately maneuvers your head to the side, exposing the length of your neck.

Whatever he finds there must be displeasing. You can’t imagine why. You can’t think much of anything. The world has taken on a sort of dreamlike quality in which everything feels loose, fluid and unburdened by the laws of any physics.

“Fuck,” he whispers for the fourth time. The curse scatters over your cheekbone like a kiss.

Pulling back slightly, he meets your half-closed eyes. “I’m sorry.” It sounds like a prayer. “This might…” he swallows, something in his resolve wavering. “This might hurt.”

Pain. You can barely conceptualize the sensation. It feels like a distant memory.

And then he’s tilting your head to the side again. His face draws closer, overcomes the last of your remaining senses, demands the full attention of what’s left of your consciousness.

You think he might kiss you. Whatever desire remains in you almost wishes he would.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips parting slightly as your eyelashes fan against the tops of your cheeks.

But his mouth never finds yours. Instead, you feel the soft caress of his lips against the side of your neck, a fleeting touch against the sensitive skin just beneath your jaw. Inhibitions whittled to nothing, you shudder against the sensation, release the airy ghost of a sigh.

He was wrong, you think. With his mouth on your neck, pain is the last thing you feel.

You feel his lips part against your skin, chasing away some of the cold that has only seeped deeper into bones, into the very essence of your being.

And then you feel it. Whatever capacity for sensation that remains all focuses on the sudden flash of agony as his teeth pierce the skin of your throat.

The tiny moan that escapes your lips is pitiful. Your ability to think, to rationalize, feels like something that’s dangling in front of you, just out of reach. Your body is too heavy, too weak to respond to the flash of searing pain as your skin is pierced deeper.

He can’t speak, but you feel the shallow vibration of a hum against your neck. Soothing, calming. His hand that doesn’t bear the weight of your head moves to push a stray strand of hair from your forehead. It’s gentle, reverent. In complete opposition to the war he wages against your neck.

Mouth still full of you, a groan escapes him. It’s heady, throaty, and you feel it travel the length of your spine, settle in the pit of your stomach. Sensation is the only thing tethering you to this world, and you can’t quite tell if this is pleasure or pain.

He pulls back, the absence of his steady heat leaving your jaw vulnerable to the chill in the air.

“Hold on,” you hear. You can’t pinpoint where the noise comes from. Sound surrounds you, washes over you in a strange uniformity. You feel the ground fall away, something warm and solid behind your shoulders and under your knees.“We’ll be there soon.”

Floating, you think. You must be floating. It’s hard to tell. Moments are bleeding into one another too quickly for you to keep up.

Eyes closed, body molten, you relax into the steady grip that carries you.

And the last thing you hear before reality loses its hold is the fervent, whispered sound of your name.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

CONTINUED IN PART 2 (which can be found on my masterlist!)

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: THANK YOUUUUU for reading!!! this is pretty different from what I usually write plot wise, so I hope it made for a good read. vampire heeseung and this oc are near and dear to me, and I'm excited to continue their story. the rest of this fic is fully plotted and partially written. I'm actively continuing to work on it, and hearing your thoughts/theories/screaming/feedback/etc. is great motivation! as always, I love know what you're thinking. ♡

#heeseung fanfiction #heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fanfic #enhypen x reader #heeseung x you #enhypen x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines

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prettyfastcars · 8 months ago

Text

the way you bend, the way you break | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re one of the housekeepers who work at one of his many holiday homes. Given the nature of his ‘job’, Lando is never in one place for too long. Which means that he comes back to this house quite a few times during the year. Things were normal in the beginning, but in time Lando began taking an interest in you. It was benign at the start – flirty comments here and there, stolen glances, and whatnot. You ignored most of it, thinking it was nothing. But then you both crossed a line, and consequently, you’ve had to hide a secret from him for months while he was gone. But now he’s back, abruptly. He would do anything, you realised, to get what he wants. And this time he wants what’s always been his.

Themes: dark!lando, smut, possessive!lando, housekeeper!reader, explicit language, breeding kink, pregnant!reader

He wasn’t supposed to be back just yet.

Your heart raced as you watched his car come to a stop right outside the house. He shouldn’t be here. He left just about two months ago. He shouldn’t be back for another two months or so.

On the gravel, he carelessly brought his car to a stop as if he couldn’t be bothered to even properly park his ridiculously expensive classic car. You were sure this one would have some name you couldn’t pronounce as well. Just like the rest of them which filled the garage. Unused, but well taken care of.

You were currently peeking from a window in the east wing. You could get a clear view of him from here, without him ever noticing that you were watching. So you remained standing there, at the window, heart pounding and well aware that the rest of the staff were running around doing last minute adjustments to the mostly spotlessly clean house now that the master of the house was back, unannounced.

Usually he called beforehand, he never just showed up so suddenly in the three years that you’d been working for him. This would be the first time.

You watched him as he got out of his car, no luggage or anything – he had everything he could ever need here, and you knew because you were part of the staff who were responsible for the East wing where his personal bedroom and office were located. A shiver went through you as you thought of the bedroom.

You watched how Lando made his way to the front steps of his house. You already knew there would be a small group of staff there to welcome him back for the third time this year. Last time he was here for a few weeks was just over two months ago. And now he was back again.

Why? Your heart raced. Lando always carried an air of danger around him. It was one of the things which lured you in.

No one ever questioned or cared what he did for work. You knew, the rumours and his reputation preceded him. But he paid you all too well for any of you to question him. Or even be bothered by the immorality of what he did, or how bad of a man he was.

Besides, being from a small nearby town, and it being all that you’d ever known, this job was like stepping into a foreign world. A world of grandeur, and garages more spacious than your family home. A world of gatsby-esque parties, and expensive cars. A world of luxurious homes, and hallways with multiple chandeliers which made you feel like a princess anytime you walked down them. Manicured lawns with Greek gods’ statues and a whole lake in the backyard. This house was tucked away in a quiet corner of the world, situated at the foot of green, foggy hills.

He was from another world. He felt like a novelty. Like an opulent vice. And he was so easy to get addicted to. The first time he touched you–

“What are you doing just standing there?” One of the older housekeepers chided from behind. “Go make sure the master bedroom has enough fresh towels! And make sure the pillowcases are…” She listed all the things you needed to get done in just a few minutes before he made his way up here.

You nodded, moved away from the window and quickly secured your white apron around your waist. You took a quick glance at your appearance in the nearby mirror. White-collared black dress and now the apron. You sighed, before rushing into his bedroom immediately to get started.

You swapped the old towels for freshly washed ones. You made sure the bed was nice and perfect. You were in the middle of making the pillows look soft and plump when one of your colleagues walked into the room.

You had your back to them, but you said, “I’m almost done here!”

Then you heard a familiar chuckle, “Well, good. ‘Cause I missed my favourite girl.”

Your eyes widened as you turned around. And there he was. Standing in front of the grand, and now shut, bedroom door. Seeing him after so many weeks always made your heart skip a beat or two. But it was different this time. Normally you’d rush into his arms and let him hold you but…

You just stood there this time, by his large canopy bed. You took him in for a moment. White shirt with buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbow, dark trousers, expensive shoes. A watch that probably cost half as much as this mansion on his wrist. His messy, curly hair and those pretty eyes. He looked like a dream. A dangerous dream.

“Hi,” You murmured as he walked towards you. You stood there, frozen, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warm embrace. You couldn’t help but sigh at the familiarity of his hug, his touch, his scent. Over the past couple of years, you’d spent countless nights wrapped in these arms. In this very room, on this bed. Countless hours you’d spent moaning his name all night, sighing and whining in pleasure, sometimes till the sun came up.

The memories came flooding in, triggered by one single hug.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your forehead, before pulling away to look at you. He smiled before leaning in for a proper kiss.

And for the first time in the couple of years that you’d known him, you gently dodged his kiss. You felt him tense up the moment you turned your face just slightly so he missed your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth instead. His arms around you tightened just a little.

“Hey,” He said, his mouth brushing against your skin. “I haven’t seen you in so long. Give me a kiss.” He tried again, and you moved again, avoiding his kiss for a second time. Lando frowned. “What’s wrong?” He refused to let go of you, staring deep into your eyes with his irresistible ones.

“No– nothing.” You sighed, carefully untangling yourself from his embrace. “It’s just, it’s early and someone might just come in to, you know, check if you have everything you need and… we might get caught.” You avoided his eyes as you put some distance between you and him.

“But–,”

You cut him off quickly. “I should go. We didn’t know you were coming, and the kitchen staff might need help. I also have to, uh…” You tried to find something, anything, “To bring you more towels.” You started to leave but he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, not letting go this time.

“There’s plenty of people to help in the kitchen. Plus there’s enough towels here for ten people.” He stared at you like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t. “Stay with me for a bit. I miss you.”

You tried to find some excuse again. “I really shouldn’t be here. They’ll notice.”

He nodded once, looking like it pained him to not argue any further. “Fine. I will see you tonight then.”

Tonight. He said it so easily. Why wouldn’t he? It had become a routine, hadn’t it? While the rest of the staff members made their way home in the evenings, you’d always stay back with him whenever he was here. Spend the night in his bed, in his arms. And you’d get up extra early each morning, right before your colleagues came in. You’d lie to everyone, pretending as if you were the last one to leave and the first one to come here each day.

But not tonight.

—

It was late and the sun had already set but it wasn’t too dark yet as you made your way home. You didn’t stay tonight. You couldn’t.

And when you were halfway home, your phone rang. You knew without looking that it must be him. So you slowed down enough to let your colleagues who were walking behind you to pass you, so you could answer the call.

“Hey.”

“Where the hell are you?” He asked, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. You could already picture him. He must be in his room, drink in his hand as he lounged on some sofa. He must have that bored look on his pretty face.

But the accusation in his tone… You were prepared for it this time. “I really have to go home tonight. My mom isn’t feeling too well. And it gets hard for dad to manage the farm alone so I have to help out.”

“Oh.” He said after a long pause. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tried your hardest to sound as cheery as possible even when you weren’t. “Bye.”

“Baby, wait I–,”

You hung up on him. Shit.

—

You didn’t see him the next day. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid him as much as possible.

But given you worked in the wing where his bedroom was, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. And by midday, he managed to corner you just as you were leaving the linen closet at the end of the least used hallway in the gigantic house.

You barely processed it as it happened. But one moment you were done with replacing the clean linen inside the closet and turned to leave, and the next Lando was there. Shoving you back inside the closet and shutting the door behind him as he caged you in between himself and the shelves.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asked, clearly not happy.

You looked behind him, at the closet door. There were no locks of course. So if anyone were to just open it, you were finished.

“Stop looking at that fucking door.” He snarled. “Look at me.”

You did. “I– we shouldn’t do this. If someone–,”

He cut you off. “Let me worry about that. What you need to do is use that pretty little mouth and tell me why the fuck have you been avoiding me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He leaned closer, causing you to press your back further into the shelves. “First you hung up on me last night and now you’ve managed to avoid me all morning.” He frowned, lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke. “Start talking, my darling.” He sounded menacing. “Or so help me god, I’ll cause such a scene and–,”

“No!” You let out a frustrated breath. “I’m not avoiding you.” You lied. “I was just truly busy this morning. And last night I really had to go home because my dad wasn’t doing too well and–,”

“Dad?” He questioned, stopping your rambling. “I thought you said your mom wasn’t well.” His body tensed up again. His hands tightening their grip where they held on to your waist.

Caught. Still you lied some more, “Well, they’re both a little under the weather.”

He was quiet. And your heart pounded. You waited for him to buy whatever bullshit you’d been trying to get him to believe.

“I see.” He said, a little too calm. Then he sighed and his lips found your neck, his mouth moving ravenously across your skin. “I miss you.” He sounded so sincere you almost gave in. “Fucking missed having you in my arms, my bed. I miss being inside you,” He murmured against your skin. “Don’t you miss me, baby?”

You sighed. Just one more minute, you promised yourself. One more minute of this and then you’d push him away. “I do.” You whispered.

“Then why are you treating me like I’m some cheap whore you no longer want around, huh?”

You almost chuckled. “I’m not, it’s–,”

“Shut up.” He sounded like he was pouting too. “I want you.”

You hadn’t realised that his hands had found themselves under your dress. His fingers, about to reach into your underwear and touch you. Fuck… it was so easy to just want to give in and let him make you feel good. Because he always did. He always left you satisfied. But you couldn’t.

“Lando.” You warned, pushing his hands away. “We can’t.”

It happened in an instant. He switched from being nice and calm, to his hand being wrapped around your throat. And for the first time, your heart skipped a beat out of fear. Fear of this unknown, unseen side of him.

His fingers tightened around your neck, his mouth brushing against your lips as he spoke. “Is it someone else?” He accused. “Did you find someone else while I was gone? Hmm? Some useless fucking boy in that little town of yours?”

“No.” You defended yourself quickly.

He pressed his body even more into yours. As if reminding you how it feels to be under him, with his body weight pressing onto you. “Then why the fuck are you denying me what’s mine?” His other hand meanwhile, found its way into your underwear again. “This is mine.” He murmured, cupping you in between your legs. “You understand? This cunt is mine. And I will fuck it whenever I want.”

You couldn’t resist anymore, so you stopped fighting him the moment you felt his fingers sliding inside you. You tried your hardest not to moan too loudly as he finger-fucked you expertly. Like he knew your body too well. He did.

His mouth left kisses all over your face, your neck, up till your ear where he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine.”

You gasped when you felt his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you. Your wetness allowing his hand to just glide all over your folds, making you shiver in pleasure. “I’m yours.” You admitted, spreading your thighs even more to let him touch you.

The air around you felt hotter. And you lost all coherent thoughts when he brought you right to the edge and… then pulled away.

You were gasping for air as you watched him in disbelief, ready to beg for him to touch you again because you were close… so damn close. And he’d always been such a generous, giving lover. So what–

“You’ve been a bad girl lately. You don’t get to come that easily.”

And without anything else said, he turned and left the linen closet. Leaving you gasping for air, breathing heavily, with your body tingling and throbbing with need.

—

You didn’t see him for the next couple of days. You didn’t dare to ask your colleagues if they knew where he went either. All you knew was that he came home late at night – the dishes in the sink, clothes scattered around his bedroom, and empty whiskey glasses in his office meant that he did come home at some point. But then he disappeared in the mornings and didn’t show up all day.

That happened continuously for three days before you saw him again.

One evening, you noticed everyone around the house just wasn't there. It was still early to go home but the house was too quiet so you went to investigate. And you found no one. None of your colleagues. None of the kitchen staff. The security guards were there, as always, stationed just outside the house so you asked them.

“Where’s everyone?”

One of them replied, “Boss asked everyone to go home early for the weekend.”

Oh? “No one told me.” You murmured under your breath. You didn’t think the guards heard but apparently they did.

Another one of them responded, “Not you, miss. He asked us to make sure you were here when he got back.”

Oh. “Back from where?” You asked.

The two guards shrugged in a ‘We’re not exactly supposed to tell you’ way.

So you went back into the house, worried. You paced around in the foyer before you decided to move upstairs, to the East wing. Then you paced some more, arranging and rearranging unnecessary stuff in the linen closet. It bothered you, the closet. It had been days since you’d been in here with him.

You were in the middle of reliving the memories of the other day when you heard footsteps out in the hallway. That must be him, you figured. So you stepped out of the closet and saw him at the other end of the hallway.

The chandeliers lit up the otherwise dark hallway. Dark frames, gilded mirrors, and Lando at the end of it, looking like the hero of some gothic novel. He was too far for you to read the expression on his face. But as he slowly made his way closer to where you stood, your own smile disappeared when you noted the grave look on his face. Like anger, and betrayal all in one.

“Lando?”

He kept walking closer, slower. “How long did you think you were gonna keep it from me?”

You froze. “What?” Your voice sounded shaky and vulnerable. You could already feel the tears gathering at your waterline. There’s no way he knows, right? How would he know? You hadn’t told anyone.

He chuckled, not an ounce of humour on his face. “Don’t act stupid.”

“I can explain.”

He shook his head, coming to a stop right in front of you. He looked like it was taking him a lot to keep whatever it was he felt contained. “Oh, you will.” His voice was… colder than ever. Bitter. Angry.

So you did the only thing your instinct told you to do in the face of a man of his magnitude. You ran.

Or at least tried to.

Lando scoffed before chasing you. Catching you was so easy. In less than a few seconds he had you in his arms and was dragging you all the way to his bedroom.

“Stop this shit!”

“I’m sorry.” You pleaded. “I wanted to tell you, I really did.” You had tears streaming down your face as you let him lead you to his room. “But I didn’t know how. I was scared of how you’d–,”

He cut you off by pushing you onto his bed. “Scared that I would what?” He barked in your face as he pinned you down on his bed. One hand grabbed your wrists in place while the other slowly slid down your squirming body. “I should have you over my knee and spank you until you cry.” He stared deep into your eyes as his hand came to a stop over your lower abdomen. The warmth of his hand reaching your skin even through the apron and the dress. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” He paused, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against your belly, “Or my baby.” He whispered, looking down to where his hand touched you.

Him saying it made it all too real. And you couldn’t stop the hot tears from running down your face. Him saying it out loud made it serious. Inescapable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again, with the same accusatory tone. “It’s mine.” He said, reminding you. “You’re mine. So why didn’t you tell me?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. Just more tears.

“I had to ask around these past couple of days, you know? I asked everyone here and your friends in town and all they told me was that you’d been constantly sick for about two months now.” He scoffed. “Then I found the doctor you went to, had to have her at gunpoint just so she’d show me your file. Apparently you’re about twelve weeks along. And you’ve known for well over a month.” He brought his face closer to yours, grip tightening on your wrists.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sniffling.

“Sorry?” He mocked, scoffing. “This is where it happened, didn’t it? Last time I was here we didn’t use any protection so that must be it, hmm?” He leaned in and whispered, “I came inside you over and over that last night before I left, remember? It was raining hard, there was a thunderstorm,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “And you were so scared I had to fuck you to sleep, remember that, baby?”

His knee had found itself in between your legs, and you’d been mindlessly grinding against it. He looked down and caught your hips moving against his leg and he chuckled. Then his smirk disappeared.

“Were you gonna keep lying to me?” He asked. “I spoke with your friends and one of them reluctantly told me that you’d been talking about wanting to get away from here. To go somewhere new, out of this little town.” He tightened his grip on your wrists so much that you yelped in pain. “Did you mean to leave me in the dark? Were you just gonna take my kid and leave? Without telling me?” He taunted. “Did you think you could leave me?” He sounded menacing. “Did you think I would hesitate for even a moment before I leave a fucking bloodbath in my wake as I hunt you down, baby?”

You sighed in frustration even though his voice made you shiver in nervousness. “I did mean to tell you. I didn’t know you would just show up out of nowhere,” You sniffled. “I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t know how to handle all of this.”

“Prepared?” He sneered. “You’re my woman, and that growing inside you is my kid. What’s there to be prepared for before telling me? I had the right to know!”

You couldn’t help but sneer right back at him, raising your voice a little, “I wasn’t even sure if you’d want this with me!”

He let his body weight drop down onto you. His hand moving from your abdomen to your neck. “I’m so fucking angry at you right now. But I fucking love you and it’s pissing me off that you’d even think like that.”

“Please,” You begged. “I was so scared. And if people found out that you and I–,”

He cut you off with a bruising kiss. His hands let go of you for a moment only to get rid of all that you were wearing as quickly as he could before holding you close to him again. His slight stubble felt rough against your mouth but you didn’t mind. You’d missed this. Missed him.

He kissed his way down, toying with your breasts, occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed as you cried out louder than he expected.

That made him look up and ask, “Are they extra sensitive?”

You nodded. He smirked, and continued anyway. Making you whine and cry out as he kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs. He gently kissed your inner thighs, “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, “And all mine.” He murmured, looking up at you. “I love you.” He said. “I want this, all of this with you. You hear me?”

Another tear fell down your face. You nodded.

Then he looked down. “And I love you as well.” He murmured against your belly, pressing his face against it, leaving soft kisses all over. “When will you start showing?” He asked.

“In a few more weeks maybe.” You answered.

You could feel him smiling against your skin at the sound of that as he placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs.

You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to you. You moaned when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you. You’d missed him so much it was crazy.

Your hand immediately flew to his curly hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom to my kids, you know that?” He said, before going back to eating you out eagerly.

Kids? Plural?

“Kids?” You asked.

Lando looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. “Come on, baby. Did you think we weren’t gonna have more?” You squirmed at the thought of that. He noticed, and smirked. “I’ll come inside you again and again until we have a little army of our own running around.”

Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He secured his arms around your thighs and pushed you further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. And with a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone, all over his tongue.

You felt him kissing his way up your body, leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his pretty ones. You secretly imagined a mini version of you and him, with his eyes. It made you smile without even realising it.

“You’re mine.” He whispered, his stare was feral, he was hungry.

You reached up and touched his rough cheek gently. “I’m all yours.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss again, rougher this time. He kissed your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he undid and lowered his pants, and carefully slid into you. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that you were his. And you always would be.

You grimace in discomfort at first because it had been way too many weeks since the last time.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, kissing your cheek. His breaths were shaky as he held back from fucking as hard and fast as he wanted. “You need me to slow down?”

“No,” You whispered. “I’m okay.” You turned to look at him.

He searched your face for any more signs of hurt. When he found none, he moved. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you, his cock moving perfectly against your sensitive walls. He leaned down and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you with nice and deep strokes.

His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath.

“You’re all mine. You hear that, mama?” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply again while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath.

You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.

“Mine.” He whispered, his voice deeper now.

You nodded quickly. “Yours.”

He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then come for me, baby…” He whispered. “Come and let me fill you up again.”

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar pressure in between your legs, making you squirm, moan, and gasp for air as your walls clenched violently around him. “Lando…” You moaned.

“I know, baby. I know.” He murmured against your forehead.

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you a little more, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.

“You’re so beautiful, and you’re all fucking mine.” He whispered against your skin. “Can’t wait for you to start showing…” He sounded just as out of breath as you were. “Everyone’s gonna know just how much you’re mine.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan, grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, kissing you as best he could while he emptied inside you.

“Fuck…” You gasped for air.

As was he.

Lando was careful not to crush you under him like he normally would, and instead moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath for a few seconds before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind.

“I’ve got you, baby.” He said, kissing your shoulder. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He tightened his grip around you. “I love you.”

You wanted to whisper back that you loved him too, but the day’s tiredness, the orgasm, and your natural instinct to fall deeply asleep right after sex, all of it caught up to you at once. And before you knew it, you passed out in his arms with a faint smile on your face.

—

Lando remained awake. He took his time caressing you, and cleaning you before dressing you up in warm clothes. Downstairs, he could hear his people moving around, packing everything just like he’d ordered them too.

After all, you two would be leaving tonight itself.

Once he was done with dressing himself, he walked to where you were in deep, deep sleep on his bed. He leaned down and kissed your nose. “I’m doing this for us, baby.” He whispered. “For us and our future family.”

There was a reason why he’d asked all the staff members to go home early tonight. It was because he didn’t want there to be an audience when he moved out of this house, with you. You were a deep sleeper so this was perfect, he thought.

No one would know where you two went, you’d disappear without a trace.

He packed a bag for you as quickly as he could. He could always buy you whatever you needed but he figured you’d want and need some things for the plane ride to come. Toiletries and blankets, mostly.

“You won’t ever have to worry about a single thing, my love.” He whispered, looking over at you sleeping soundly while he packed in a hurry, checking his guns just in case, and throwing that into the bag as well. “I’m sorry I lied earlier.” He confessed.

He had. The doctor he interrogated wasn’t just held at gunpoint. Lando had made sure she would never speak again. Your file would be nowhere to be found. And without the doctor, no rumours or gossip would be spreading around the little town about this situation.

While he was with you tonight, his men had done just as he’d asked them to. They had taken all your stuff from your little apartment and moved it. It would be as if no one ever lived there.

Earlier this evening, he’d received confirmation from his men that while your friends and family members had been too scared to even question what was happening, they'd agreed to not reach out to authorities regarding your sudden disappearance. Of course, in exchange they would receive sporadic updates about where you are and how you’re doing.

If they ever acted out of line, well, he would simply take care of it and tell you that your friends and family decided to cut all ties. Because if there was anything he was good at, it was making sure people did exactly what he wanted them to do.

All in all, Lando had made sure you two would never come back to this place again.

He thanked whichever god was listening once he managed to get you in the backseat of his car without disturbing your sleep. He got in right after you, while his men filled the other cars with luggage and some things of yours from your apartment.

Once the cars were all out the gates and all on the way to his private plane, he leaned closer to you, nuzzling your cheek as you laid your head against his shoulder, sleeping soundly and unaware of all that was going on, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” He murmured. “We’ll be happy together, you just wait.” He kissed your face and pulled you into a hug, fixing your blanket around you and making sure you were properly warm.

His hand instinctively found its way to your belly, softly caressing it even though the bump wasn’t there yet. He kept an eye on the cars right in front and right behind, all filled with armed guards. He would need to be extra careful now. He was going to be a father, have a family of his own. He would need to protect you and the future kids with his life.

Despite the stress and worries, he found himself smiling at the thought of the future. A future with you, and your kids. You were both still fairly young to be parents but he felt ready for it.

He knew you’d probably throw a fit when you’d wake up and find out that he was literally changing your whole life overnight. He smirked thinking about how fiery you could be sometimes. But it would be too late then. You would be miles away from here, up in the air with nowhere to go. He’d deal with your tantrum on his plane, and remind you that you were his. His to take care of.

Only his.

part 2

#mob!lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando norris imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris x you #mob!au

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thevoidstaredback · 8 months ago

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Saturday's at Wayne Manor are family days. The whole weekend is reserved for the family to come and go as they please, but the biggest events are the Game Days on Saturday from 11:00 to 16:00 and Sunday Dinner at 18:00.

Every Saturday is a Game Day, but the third Saturday of each month is Competition Day. The kids all choose their favorite games, and everyone competes against each other. It's very rarely missed by anyone, but there have been times when someone has had to tap out for one reason or another. Alfred keeps track of who's missed how many days. Barbra keeps the tally of who's won what and how many times. At the end of the year, on December 31st, the scores are announced.

Sunday Dinners are sacred. No one ever misses a Sunday Dinner. The last person who did Jason is still getting subtle jabs and looks from everyone and that was a year ago and he had a very good reason, thank you very much! Everyone is always present for Sunday Dinner because everyone still has a room and the option to stay the night between the two days. Most usually take up the offer, but there have been extenuating circumstances that have pulled someone from the Manor.

No matter any of that because everyone is here and everyone is staying the night. That means everyone is patrolling Gotham tonight. Almost everyone. Batwoman has offered to take over Bludhaven for the night, so that's where she's gone.

Bruce plans to present his idea of messing with his coworkers when everyone gets back to the cave after patrol. All his kids know who they all are, having been trained by him, so there's no risk or accidental reveals on his part. In actuality, the kids thought of it like a game. They even had a folder for it on the Bat Computer and everything!

Yes, that night, after everyone returned to the Bat Cave, he would gather his Chaos Gremlins and invite them to mess with the Justice League with him. He'd also try and get Alfred in on it. Family bonding, and all that.

Though, making his kids sweat was its own form of amusement for him. It was 3:00 when everyone finally returned. They all ran their own routes, watched over by Oracle, and their own times, but everyone was always done no later than 3:00. It was a rule that the Gotham Rouges had yet to pick up on because Batman went back out until dawn more often than not.

Anyway, Bruce has been the first to get back and had put on an act of being upset. He usually kept his Batman persona with his suit, so he was rarely ever this stoic while he was Bruce Wayne. He hid his smirk as he sat at the head of the meeting table in the Cave, waiting for his children to change and sit with him. Duke normally was asleep by now, but he'd asked the boy to be there, letting him in on the harmless prank while they waited for his siblings and Stephanie to arrive.

Once everyone was seated, he waited a total of thirty seconds, meeting eyes with every one of his children, before he spoke. "I'm very disappointed."

Dick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He'd known Bruce the longest - aside from Alfred - and had likely picked up on something the second he saw Bruce and Duke at the table. "At who?"

"The Justice League," It was amusing to watch the tension melt off of all of them when he shook his head, "We all know who all of them are, as well as everyone who trained under them, but they don't know who we are."

"Except Wonder Woman," Jason pointed out, "She figured me out when I came back."

Fair, Bruce supposed. Jason was always Diana's favorite. "I think they need some help," he said, "A push in the right direction, so to speak."

Stephanie had a smile on her face that promised mischief. "We're not telling them, right? 'Cause that'd be no fun."

"Course not!" Duke yawned, "B said we'd give them a hint."

"What did you have in mind, father?" Damian asked, stoic as always, but matching the gleam in Cass's eyes.

"We invite them to the Bat Cave," he said, "Show them around a bit. The only exits we tell them about, though, should be the Lane," How the ground vehicles get in and out. "-the Zeta Tubes," Obviously. "-and the elevator. But, we don't tell them what's upstairs."

Alfred seemed very amused from where he had taken his seat at the other end of the table.

"From there," Bruce continued, "We invite their civilian identities to the next Gala. Meet them. Hint about the Cave without actually saying anything. If I know Clark as well as I know I do, then he'll, at the very least, piece together that the Bat Cave is under Wayne Manor."

"And if we play it right?" Dick's grin was manic, "They won't connect who we are."

"Won't that be suspicious, though?" Tim spoke up for the first time, "They may not have put things together yet, but they aren't stupid. They're heroes. If we give them the pieces, they're gonna piece them together."

Damian was the one to answer him. "Batman and Bruce Wayne hate one another, though there is a grudging acknowledgement and respect."

"Give them the right pieces, with a few from the wrong puzzle, in the wrong order, we could totally have them fooled!" Jason explained.

The group shared looks between each other. Nothing needed to be said because the looks and movements said everything.

Alfred smiled and shook his head fondly. "You may plan this in the morning. For now, go to bed and get some sleep."

Part 1 Part 3

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space-cowgirllll · 4 months ago

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Tolerate It

pls enjoy this kinda angsty little thing I wrote a couple of months ago when I was really going through it in a relationship and have been too shy to post anywhere until today. I miiiiight have the second part to this halfway done. If this sucks I'm so sorry lmao it’s very lightly proofread and I have not written anything that hasn't had to be turned in for a grade in years.

Part Two

You sit alone at the table wondering how you ended up here. The dinner you'd spent the better part of the evening preparing grows cold as you sip on what has to be your third glass of wine. From your spot you can see Abby standing at the counter, speaking softly into the phone while she reads through the mail that had piled up over the last week. You pick at your food, hoping she'll join you eventually, but when fifteen minutes turns into twenty and then thirty five, you realize you're wasting your time. The laughter from the other room tells you the work part of the call ended long ago. Pushing your chair back, not caring when the loud noise earns you a glare from Abby, you gather your plate and blow out the candles at the center of the table.

Abby moves to sit on the loveseat in the living room after her call. It doesn't take long for her to get lost in the new book she had just brought home. Your eyes shift to the untouched plate of food still waiting for her in the dining room and then to the apple in her hand. The sound of your throat clearing catches her attention.

"Your plate is still at the table if you want it, babe." You gesture to the lone plate at her usual spot.

There's a pang in your chest at the sight of the floral arrangement you'd chosen for the week. Behind that, strong wind pelts rain at the window. The gloomy weather a perfect representation of the storm brewing inside you.

"I thought I told you I had an early dinner with a couple of colleagues."

"Oh."

It comes out as a whisper. Not bothering to tell her she hadn't called you back after her lunch break. Again. You make a mental note to put the plate away before bed, knowing she'll pack it for tomorrow.

Your arms are elbow deep in soapy water, trying to rush through the last couple of dishes before she retreats to her study. The clanking of pots and pans fills the quiet space. You scrub at a particularly stubborn spot, trying to think of a way to bring it up without sounding too obvious.

"How was work today?"

"Fine." Your wife replies, not elaborating further.

"It's the twenty first, right?" There's some hesitation in the question.

"Yup."

Okay.

She doesn't look up from her book when you shuffle past her a little while later, placing a steaming mug on the coffee table. Her hand caresses the soft skin of your thigh and you perk up when she mumbles a soft thanks, placing a quick kiss on her temple. The sleeping cat on her lap stirs when you give him a gentle scratch behind the ear.

You settle into the sofa across from her and watch her read. She's in the cotton pajamas and fuzzy socks you'd laid out in the closet for her. It makes you feel ridiculously overdressed. Your hands fist the skirt of your dress, feeling foolish. There's a dark spot on the satin material from leaning over the wet counter.

The record player in the far corner of the room catches your attention. You miss the nights where she'd play you one of her favorites and dance with you around the living room before letting you sit on her lap as she read out loud to you. You never thought you would miss those boring medical journals. These days you're lucky if you get more than an hour with her before she locks herself in her study.

It hadn't always been like this. The two of you have been together longer than you've been apart. Visions of eleven year old Abby teaching you how to braid her hair for soccer practice flash in your head. Crawling into her bed in the middle of the night after another nasty fight between your parents. Summer vacations to her family's lake house. Her and her parents at every dance recital and play you'd ever been part of in high school. Realizing at sixteen that your feelings for the girl weren't so platonic. Then moving into the spare bedroom down the hall from her a year later after coming out to your family. Prom dress shopping with her and her mother, sneaking kisses in the tiny fitting rooms. The Anderson's were the family you never had.

Navigating young adulthood with Abby had been fun. You'd rented a tiny apartment in Seattle and paid way too much for it while attending university. It wasn't much, but it was home. You remember the dance parties in the tiny living room. The time the blonde begged you to let her keep the tiny cat she'd found in an alley on the way home one random afternoon. Going on dates and exploring the city. Staying up late and fantasizing about what life would look like in ten years. The look on her face as her thumb rubbed small circles on the exposed skin of your belly after you'd shown her your list of baby names. Getting married just after graduation.

Abby had never been too busy to show you how much she loved you, no matter how busy she got with school. Packing your meals for work, making sure your car had enough gas in it, organizing stay at home date nights whenever your schedules aligned. And you doing the same for her when she was up to her eyebrows in work for school.

The notes were your favorite. They had started appearing randomly after you'd been unexpectedly laid off. You'd been moping around the house for weeks, losing hope after not hearing back from any of the companies you'd applied to. Always in your favorite color, the purple post it notes could be found stuck to the wherever you'd see them first thing in the morning. The silly declarations of love and the affirmations always made you smile.

Those days were long gone. You were slowly going from high school sweethearts to two people who simply co-existed. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, it was getting harder to deny the lack of warmth in her eyes when she looked at you sometimes. Today proved what you had been too afraid to admit to yourself. The only person who had ever felt like home has slowly started becoming a stranger that slipped into your bed later and later each night.

Your eyes start stinging and you bite down on your lower lip. There's no way you're breaking down in front of her, not tonight. The warmth radiating from the fireplace does little to keep away the chill running through your body. Shaky hands bring the mug to your lips, hoping some tea would calm the nausea swirling in your stomach. You're not surprised to find yourself unable to keep drinking after a few tiny sips. Abby's favorite mug grows cold on the coffee table and you're positive she doesn't even remember it's there.

The sound of her phone ringing startles you both. Abby snatches the phone off the counter, a tired sigh leaves her parted lips when she sees who's calling. She jogs up the steps, intently listening to whoever is on the other end of the phone. You pick at the chipping nail polish on your left hand, watching the way your engagement ring glints in the dim light of the fire. Your stomach dips as you slip the stack off your finger, placing them in the small bowl on the coffee table.

"Are you going somewhere?" Your head shoots up to where she's standing in the threshold. The sight of her in a fresh pair of navy blue scrubs doesn't surprise you. Her loose bun traded for a tight braid that hangs over her shoulder.

"No. Why would I be?"

She gestures at your dress. Eyes roaming over your face, finally noticing the makeup you'd carefully applied hours before. You see her lock in on your empty hand, her sculpted brows furrow in confusion. Please say something. You beg, just wanting to understand why this is happening. Was she so busy she couldn't even bother to ask what's wrong? Did she even care anymore?

The constant buzzing of the phone in her tote bag answers your question for you. She shakes her head and turns to the door, stopping to slip her feet into her sneakers. You follow silently behind her, wondering if you should say something.

"Abigail?"

She hums in acknowledgment, not bothering to look up from her phone. Her fingers move at lightning speed across the touchscreen. Your nails dig into the palm of your hand, fighting the urge to snatch her phone and chuck it against the wall.

"What?" She asks again when you don't speak up. The look of annoyance on her face has you taking a step back.

"Nevermind," you turn towards the coat closet, pulling out her winter jacket. "It doesn't matter." You don't have to look back to know she's rolling her eyes.

"I should be back before you leave for work." You busy yourself with the already organized closet, pretending to move things around while she gathers the rest of her things.

"Be careful." You mumble, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from flowing. Not trusting yourself to say much more without your throat closing.

"Always am." She plants a kiss on the back of your head and heads out the door. It's only when you hear the sound of her car pulling away that you let yourself cry. No longer caring about the mascara that is certainly smearing.

Unsteady legs carry to the foot of the stairs where you collapse into a pathetic heap. Tears freely flowing down your cheeks, further staining the material of your dress. Your hands harshly pull at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it off. The pins in your hair clatter loudly on the floor as you harshly pull them out.

Your sobs echo throughout the empty house. Pain radiates through your body, from somewhere in your chest to the tips of your fingers. The nausea has increased tenfold. You inhale sharply, resting your head on your knees. Watery eyes fixed on the front door your wife had just walked out of, this gut wrenching feeling of loneliness overwhelms you.

"Happy anniversary Abby."

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson x female reader

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tvhsleb3ww · 10 months ago

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FOURTH TIME'S A CHARM! - MIYA ATSUMU

summary miya atsumu had lost hope on finding the one for him after multiple failed relationships before you came along

swearing, suggestive (mentions of getting laid), flirting, light punching(does that count as violent?), pure fluff honestly, some twins bickering

his first girlfriend was when he was 13. he had just gotten popular for being the best setter in the district. surely, many girls had gone up to him and tried to befriend him. he wouldn't deny the attention because we all know miya atsumu loves attention. especially from cute girls his age.

the relationship wasn't long, probably around 3 weeks or so. it was the first time tsumu had broken his piggy bank with his dad's hammer to take out some cash and use them to buy his girlfriend some chocolate.

it ended when tsumu hit puberty and had a terrible break out. the girl was probably freaked and it was the first time tsumu cried over a girl. they never even had the chance to kiss like he had imagined!

the second girlfriend was when he was in his third year of highschool. it was a much more serious relationship and he developed strong feelings for the girl. it was the first time tsumu went on multiple dates and had a girl over.

despite that, he got dumped once again after high school ended and his said girlfriend is going overseas for her studies.

things started to heat up a bit as he reached his early twenties. due to his rising fame from the volleyball industry and his incredibly good looks, women especially models, are interested in him.

likewise, he's not one to deny attention and affection from hot ladies. oh, he loves it.

starting from there, he had a couple flings and hook ups. he even got popular with the supermodel ladies for being amazing in bed. although, he was never one to try and find a relationship.

that changed after he met a girl at a club. he was one hundred percent sure that she was the one. the way she was hitting on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. his breath hitches everytime they interacted and thus it was his first real relationship in a long while.

it lasted for six months or so after he got dumped for a CEO bastard. he then started to think maybe he was never meant to find his other half. maybe he was gonna die alone.

that thought had him awake at night and as much as he is scared of that predicament, he can't really do anything to change it. he just accepted his fate right then and there.

and it all changed when he locked eyes with you.

it was official. osamu had opened his restaurant for approximately two years now! to celebrate this achievement, he had decided to close the store for a day to throw a small party to celebrate.

of course, all his family and friends were invited. atsumu's volleyball team, his friends from high school, his relatives, everyone!

"samu! congrats man!"

tsumu exclaims with a bright smile as he pulls his twin brother into a hug. osamu quickly hugs him back before giving him a punch on the shoulder, making atsumu yelp.

"ey! the hell was that for, ya twerp!?"

he pouted at his brother as osamu just chuckled. osamu crossed his arms over his broad chest, a gentle smile on his face as he watches his twin brother being dramatic as usual.

"that's for bein' late, ya asshat. yer team already started eatin' ages ago"

osamu rolled his eyes as atsumu just chuckles.

"i had somethin' to take care of"

"oh shut yer mouth, i know you've been sleepin' and forgot"

"ey!"

their interaction went on with some laughter and some light punches. the usual miya twin interaction. after some minutes, atsumu had left to join his team at the table.

"hey, you're late! good thing, the food isn't finished yet"

bokuto chirped as he started to prepare a plate for atsumu. he grinned at this, mumbling a small 'thank you' but before he could sit down he's been told to go get some drinks from the counter.

"wha? but a was just about to sit!"

"just take it, that's your punishment for being late"

he pouts and huffs but he goes anyway.

he walks towards the counter and as his fingers wrap around the bottle of sake, a hand was grabbing it too. his eyes widen slightly as he turns his head to take a look at the dude who's taking his drink.

at that moment, he felt like he had died and ascended to heaven because holy fuck was that an angel right beside him? he had never seen anyone this pretty before. and god, her eyes! he could stare into them for as long as he can.

maybe, he was staring for too long with his mouth agape because it caused you to clear your throat to get him back into reality.

"sorry, were you taking this?"

you quickly asked him and for a second there, you could've sworn you saw heart shaped pupils. he immediately took his hand away from the bottle.

"well, i was gonna but it's all yours if you want it, pretty"

he says with a flirty tone added with a flirty wink as he leaned against the counter. your lips curled into a smile at his flirt, cheeks also growing a tad red. you fixed your hair and he swears it's love at first sight.

"thank you"

you mumbled, giving him a smile before you walked away to your table. he sighed dreamily as he watches you from afar. how can someone look so pretty? your hair, your eyes, your body. the way you were staring at him judgingly made his heartbeat skyrocket. he found it so hot and cute.

he never rushed to osamu so fast in his life before. osamu, who had just gone out from the kitchen was quickly pulled into the nearest VIP rooms by his brother.

"hey! what the hell is your deal!?"

osamu groans at his brother. atsumu grabbed his shoulders.

"listen, am askin' ya as yer big brother-"

he rolled his eyes at that, big brother my ass. just by 5 minutes.

"do ya have a friend that's absolutely fuckin' hot and gorgeous ya'd feel like ya died an' saw an angel?"

osamu narrowed his eyes. what an overexaggerated question. he thought about it for a minute.

"are ya talkin' bout (y/n)? i mean, she's the only female friend i have"

(y/n). what a cute name. he sighed dreamily again when he remembered their interaction. osamu raised a brow at this.

"(y/n)? ya mean the girl of ma dreams?"

"ugh, ya lovesick idiot. yer supposed to be celebratin' my achievement not get laid"

atsumu shot him a glare and lets go of his grip on osamu's shoulders.

soon enough, they both leave the room to join the party again. osamu went to see some of his college friends and atsumu had gone to join his team.

on his way, his gaze falls on you. you looked so beautiful under the orange lights of osamu's restaurant and were you talking to his grandmother?

not only beautiful but friendly and good with old people. his heart beats faster when you laughed at whatever his grandma said because you look amazing, fuck.

and at that second, he locked eyes with you. you kept the eye contact with a gentle smile on your lips.

with just a small wink from you, he knows. he knows that he's fallen too deep for you.

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x female reader #haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu #hq atsumu #hq x reader #haikyuu x you

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nezuscribe · 1 year ago

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toji x reader (mdni, 18+)

your parents set you up to marry some snobby rich guy when all you want is toji (toji is uncharacteristically soft in this get over it)

“toji! toji, would you please open the door!" your fist pounded on the red chipped paint, sopping wet as the rain pelted down your face, mixing with some of your tears as you shivered in your thin shirt, clearly not dressed for the occasion.

you didn't know if he was home or not, but you were desperately hoping that he was.

you knew it was wrong coming back to this place, especially since the last time you saw him you told him to never look at you again, but you didn't know anywhere else to go in this town.

the field around you moved violently with the winds, and the porch light was still off. his old mustang was parked outside, so you knew he had to be in there, somewhere.

"toji, please, i'm freezing and it's dark!"

you were sure that if he didn’t open up you’d have to make some room in the little shed he had in the front because there was no way you’d be driving home alive with the rain about to come, but before you went plotting about how to fashion a tarp into a blanket, the door swung open.

the first thing you noticed was that he didn’t seem too pleased to see you, his eyes blazing into a glare, brows furrowed down the middle as the two of you just looked at each other.

it had been weeks since you had last seen him, and if you didn’t know any better, the dark circles under his eyes might have mirrored yours.

you longed to kiss it.

"why are-" he couldn't finish his sentence as you hurled yourself into his chest, your arms gripping onto him as he stumbled back inside.

you never would have thought that you’d miss the faint smell of smoke, or the whiskey lingering around his lips, but you hoped that it would never leave your memory.

sobbing as you clung onto him tightly, you had no idea what expression had taken over his face. was he angry or shocked? you knew you were getting his shirt wet, your fingers gripping onto his back as he stayed quiet, the only thing filling the vacant room being your wet sniffles.

slowly, you felt him move around a bit, giving in as he pulled you deeper into his chest. he patted your back as he shut the door behind you, eyes darting over your figure to make sure everything was okay.

"you okay?"

you shook your head, still hiding in his chest, and he nodded. he knew that much, but at least you had the vicinity to reply. he was worried that you had been petrified.

"want some tea?'

you shook your head again, still clinging onto him, perhaps even tighter than before.

he took in a sharp breath, not knowing what to do with you. it had been weeks since he last saw you, although, in a much different state.

"sweetheart," he muttered lifting your chin up with his thumb so he could see your face, the air knocking out of his lungs as he was once reminded of just how beautiful you are, even with tear tracks down your cheeks, "you 'gotta talk to me."

you sniffled, your lashes fluttering up and down as you fell back on his chest, your cheeks smushed in and your breaths came out in heaves.

"daddy set me up with him," you finally said, voice coming out muffled, "the wedding's in december."

his grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you in impossibly closer to him.

toji had been your "summer fling", or so your parents liked to call him. your parents had bought a summer home a couple of years ago and so every year since then, for a couple of months, you and your family would stay in this little town.

this year shouldn't have been different from the last one. in fact, the first couple of weeks there are fine. you easily find some people within your parent's circle, but it wasn't fun yet, it wasn't summer.

that is until you bump into a man who's friends with your friend's boyfriend (he was also third-wheeling with you on their date).

he's tall and brooding and most definitely wouldn't have looked your way if not for the predicament you were in. he gave the aura that he hated old money and you along with it, but for some reason, the scar on his lip twitched into a tiny smile as you kept up with his humor with witty remarks.

weeks following that were filled with him chasing after you as you giggled uncontrollably, not used to the giddy feeling that filled your chest whenever he tackled you down, holding you close to his chest as he littered kissed all over your face.

you knew it was wrong, at least by your parent's standards, but you didn't care all that much. you liked the dirt under his nails and the gruffness in his voice, it was so different from the guys you grew up with.

and despite his outward appearance he was so sweet. he may not have shown it much, but he held you close to him, attached by the waist as he whispered lame jokes in your ear and bought you caramel apples whenever you craved them.

it could have been puppy love but deep down you knew it wasn't. his lips lingered far too long for puppy love

and when your parents found out they were livid. it was a complete disgrace for somebody with the likes of you to be fooling around with somebody from the likes of him, and it only took a few meetings with your parents and a few arguments that left you in tears in him seething before you broke it off, promising that if you ever saw him again you'd shave his head.

but here you were, and his head was still full of hair.

"what's his name?" he asked, his voice gruff, and heavy as you looked up, wiping your nose again as you blinked.

"um," you racked your mind for a few hours ago, the screaming match you had with your parents fresh in your head as you gnawed on your lip, "satoru...something, i don't remember."

his eyes darkened, wiping the tears off of your face as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"your folks know that you're here?" his voice grew gentle, trying to keep it together for your sake, and you shook your head once again. you felt another wave of tears coming, and it took a lot of composure to not break down.

"no, i told them to go to hell. m-maybe they'll go searching there first," you murmur, a little grin making its way onto his face as he leads you through his home, the comfy sight making you feel at ease.

you found yourself on his couch, the same one from a few weeks ago, the same one where he...

"i'll go get you some clothes-" but you stopped him from leaving, tugging on his shirt to keep him in place.

"stay," you say, and he had no fight in him to deny you of your request. not with the way you looked at him. never when it came to you.

he gives you a tight nod, sitting across from you, careful not to be too close as he glances at the clock. it's late, and with the way the rain is pouring outside he'd be damned if he let you go back home in this weather. he'd rather take the claims of being sued by your father and let you sleep here than have you leave.

you look at your hands clasped in your lap, not saying anything about his distance, but feeling it tenfold when he sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to grapple with this situation.

"we're leaving two days from now," you say hurriedly, glancing at him quickly and then back to the ground, not knowing what else to do.

his eyes squint, brows crease down the middle at your words. he felt his chest grow heavy, and he can't remember the last time somebody had this sort of effect on him.

"thought you were leaving in a month?"

you shake your head, wiping at your eyes as you sniffle.

"my parents wanted me to meet...him."

his tongue pokes at his cheek, and he wants a scotch right now. fuck it, he'll take some vodka if he had any, but he finished the little bit remaining after the last fight the two of you had.

"i didn't mean what i said," you sputter out again, your eyes darting to his as you shift on his couch, "i don't hate you toji, i don't hate you at all. i was mad, 'nd i was mad at my parents and at you for what they told'ya to say, but i'm not mad at you, i love you, and i want to-" he doesn't let you finish, moving the two quick steps that separated the two of you as his face leans down to yours, his lips cutting you off.

you squeal a bit in surprise, clutching onto his shirt as he sets himself down, moving you with his own strength onto his lap as he never disconnects from you.

the two of you were basically feverish, feeling as though if you stopped for a second the world would stop spinning and you'd be forced to find each other again.

your spit mixed with his, your tears staining his cheeks as he huffed against your lips, his tongue fighting yours as he pushed his way into your mouth, his fingers wrinkling the expensive fabric of the dress that was splayed over your legs.

your fingers clutched and grasped at his hair, loving how it felt between you. you tugged, knowing he liked the sting, and knowing you liked the small gasp that escaped his throat when you'd do so.

"l-love you," you pant, pulling away to catch your breath as he follows you upward, spit connecting the two of you together as your eyes water again, "i love you toji," your words have a hold on him, something he's never experienced before.

for your entire life, you've wanted to be full of love. you've wanted a love that you've read in classic literature and seen in old hollywood movies. you wanted to be so full of love that you emptied yourself, waiting around for your prince charming. and when you met toji, he poured out his heart, giving you everything that he had. nobody else was toji, and nobody else could love you the way that he did.

"love you too, sweetheart," he whispers, and the words are heavy on his tongue, something he never said before he met you. he's not used to this, and he's not sure he will be. but he's sure that he wants your love, and knows that no other man is worthy of it. half the time he doubts he's worthy of it as well.

"i didn't mean what i said," you tell him again and he shushes you with another kiss, nodding as his large hands run soothingly up and down your back, his nose nudging your sweetly.

"i know sweetheart, i didn't either. y'know what you mean to me, nothing you say or do will ever make me mad at you." and he's right, because he can't remember the last time he had been with a woman who he was sure he'd kill for, can't remember the last time he had actually loved someone the way he loves you.

"i," you feel your words running out when his lips attach to your neck, your head falling backward to give him more room as heat blossoms in your face, across your chest, "i wanna run away with you, start fresh s-somewhere," you can feel your mind begin to go hazy as he sucks, his tongue running across the fresh marks he leaves you, looking through his long lashes as he listens intently to what you have to say.

"no," he shakes his head, undoing the knot that was keeping your dress together as his nose rubs at your soft skin, savoring this, "no, you're 'gonna go back home and you're 'gonna-"

"toji!" you try to quiet him but he looks at you, wanting to finish what he is trying to say. you knew what he wanted to tell you, knew that deep down you were merely dreaming. his calloused hands squeezed at your thighs, unconsciously moving you up and down his hard bulge.

"and you're 'gonna marry somebody who can provide for you," and although the words take everything in him to say, he knows that is the life that you deserve.

"i'll work, i'll find a job and the two of us will-" he presses a soft kiss to your lips, shaking his head.

"you know that this isn't the life cut out for you, and you know that no matter what, i won't be able to give you everything that you want." his thumb is hungrily hooking your panties to the side, fingers running over your slit that was practically dripping in wetness. he knew that this was the last time the two of you could be able to do this, and though he wanted to savor every second with you, he could barely control himself as it was.

"i want you," you shakily say, tears springing in your eyes as he hurries to wipe them away. who would have guessed that the man most feared in town would have done anything in his power to make the woman he loved most smile genuinely again?

to that, he had no response.

so instead, he did what he knew best, tugging his pants down as his cock sprang free. you glanced down, your mouth running dry at the sight.

his head was an angry red, leaking with pre as it twitched in the cold air. he was the only man you've been with, but you were aware enough to know that he was hung. and you couldn't help but think he was pretty, although you'd never admit it out loud. toji would only swat at you, gently turning your head to the side as he rolled his eyes.

but tonight, the two of you didn't have time to waste.

normally, he'd eat you out until your screams filled his house until your legs clamped around his head until you said you couldn't take anymore, his mouth shining with your essence and his spit. but you were wet enough where he didn't have to, and truth be told, you wanted him in you now, wanted to feel yourself around him.

you lined yourself up with him, your walls fluttering around nothing as his head spasmed from the feeling of lightly running against your clit. he was usually the one in charge, but tonight he let you take the lead, knowing how you needed it.

you gently pushed yourself on, your head tipping backward at the stretch. no matter how many times you'd take him, your pussy would never fully be able to accommodate his size. even his fingers would sting when he stretched you out, and this was far more different from that.

"fuck, slowly, there you go," he talked you through it, his eyes half-lidded as you began to sink into him, taking him inch by inch. your fingers gripped his shoulder, leaving indents as you felt your lungs squeezing out any of the air left in them.

"t-toji, fuck, you're so big," you mutter, biting on your lips to keep in the wanton moans as you squeeze around him, hearing him suck in a breath at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his twitching cock.

"you can do it," his hands gripped onto your waist, your skirt pooling around your hips as he helped steady you on, "know you can sweetheart, you've done it before," his voice was husky, a deep drawl to it. you loved it, loved him, loved everything about him.

"shit, hmmm, fuck!" you squeal, finally squeezing all of him in your, trying to take a little break as you felt him nearly rip you in half, the sting was welcome, and you lived for the way his head nipped at the spot that made your eyes roll back.

after a few seconds, you felt his thumb find your clit, swiping at it slowly as he began to move you up gently with his other hand. sweat was dotting his brow bone, and your head had thumped onto his, letting him maneuver your body.

once it was just his tip left in you, his eyes found yours, making sure you were good. when you gave him the go-ahead nod, he slammed your back down, a loud whine ripping itself from your lips.

"t-toji! oh my god, ooooh, f-fuck, toji!" you could barely find any words to say as he bounced you up and down on his cock, squelching sounds filling the air as a ring of you circling it's way around his dick, making it shine in the faint candles he had lit once the power went out from the storm.

"there you go, fuck, jus' like that." he rasped, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move, palming them as he switched between tugging at your nipples and swiping at your clit, knowing either one made your mind go foggy.

"remember this dick when you see that scrawny bitch, yeah?" he huffs into your damp skin, kissing, biting at your chest, your neck as he looks up at you, "know this he can never amount to this, 'k sweetheart?"

you nod feverishly, tugging at the strands of hair that littered at his nape as you lean down to kiss him, everything messy and rushed as the two of you cling onto each other.

"who makes you feel this good?"

"y-you!" you cry out, crying from the pleasure and the pain, the crack in your heart worsening with each second.

"who does this pussy belong to?" he edged you on, his veins dragging up and down your walls with his every thrust, his lip caught between his teeth.

"you toji!" you whine out, trying to grab onto his clothes, his shoulders, anything to stabilize you to reality.

"who do you love, huh, sweetheart?" he needs to hear it once more, once more so that it can be seared into his mind. once more so that once he has to live a life without you in it, the reminder that you love him, or at least loved him at some point, can make him smile without having it turn bitter.

"you, jus' you toji!" your tears are salty on his lips, and he can feel you getting closer to your release. he knows he's not far away from his, so he picks up his pace, rubbing your little bud faster as he feels your walls clench tightly around him.

"that's right," he groans, "you're all mine."

he knows that he's being selfish, knows that you'll probably forget about him and this fling years from now. but here, at this moment, he wants you to remember him. he wants your pussy to mold to his shape so that no other man can fit you, fuck you, love you the way toji does.

you nod again, your arms circling around his neck as your hips stutter, your stomach clenching and walls clamping down as you feel yourself about to let go.

"toji, i'm gonna, fuck, toji...!" you squeal when he doesn't stop, his pace relentless as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, never leaving you unmarked with his bruising grip on your waist.

"come on, do it, let go, come with me," he's close, and once he feels your walls spasming around him, your head tilting back as you let out a strangled cry as you come, he lifts you up, his release spilling all over your naked stomach as his cock twitched with his every movement.

you swear you've never felt this good in your life, your toes curling as you finally cum around him. it's too much, the way your essence squirts everywhere, your walls longing to be filled once he pulls out of you.

it's too much yet too little, knowing that the two of you don't have much time to savor this moment.

your chest is heaving up and down, your neck flushing with heat as you settle back down on toji's lap, your legs and thighs cramping as he flashes' you a little grin, the same one that made you fall in love with him in the first place as you move some hair away from his eyes.

aside from your labored breaths, his house is silent once again, and just as heavy as it was minutes ago.

"the night's still not over," he reminds you, the two of you glancing out the window as the rain continues to storm down. the wind is faster and angrier than it was before you arrived, and the thunder rattles the little house.

"can we go to your bedroom?" you ask, resting your head down on his chest as you listen to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat. it's erratic, just like yours.

"mhm," he hums, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, shuffling your skirt around so that it settles on your thighs.

"i'm 'gonna come back next year," you saw, wiping at your cheeks so that he can't see you crying again, but nothing goes unnoticed by him, "and you better have a ring waiting for me when i do."

he nods again.

"anything for my girl."

#toji x reader #toji x you smut #toji x reader smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader angst #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #toji fushiguro smut

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seiwas · 1 year ago

Text

two-part something (shouto x reader)

wc: 1.3k

contains: christmas, holiday parties, santa, mid-20's pro-hero!shouto x assistant!reader

full fic sequel: three-part honesty

a/n: just a lil writing exercise on shouto! first time writing him hehe

shouto’s late to his agency’s holiday party tonight.

he breathes out, warmth floating as white puffs from his lips. the heating system on his office floor has been turned off, subtext directed solely to him: whoever’s here today, at this time, shouldn’t be.

his fingers move deftly around his waist, routinary—utility belt unbuckling as he reaches his desk.

the venue for tonight is on one of the lower floors—a function room where briefings and press conferences are normally held. the number of attendees has grown compared to last year’s, sidekicks doubling and staff tripling; expected, given the agency’s projected growth next quarter.

this is the agency’s third move since humble days in a rented studio unit (one shouto stubbornly and adamantly paid for fully, on his own), but one thing’s invariably stayed the same—

shouto’s office has always existed in its own space, whether tucked in a corner or spread out over an entire floor.

and wherever that space is, so are you.

he settles in his seat, leather creaking as he twists to stretch his back. it’s been a long night, being dispatched earlier for an emergency downtown. his hand reaches for the folder on his desk, fingers swiping to release the yellow paper clip on the far left corner—evidence of your presence.

since being hired as his assistant five years ago, you’ve devised a system for shouto that he now deems essential to keeping his entire agency afloat. his own urgency for paperwork hinges on the color of your paper clips (blue for next month, green for next week, yellow for tomorrow, and red for now).

he should listen to you; the details of this evening’s take-down can be set aside for tomorrow—tomorrow, when everyone’s allowed to clock-in midday for the sake of tonight’s festivities. knowing you though, you’ll still show up early, if only to go over his desk, ensuring to swap that yellow paper clip for red.

if he finishes this now, you won’t need to ensure anything; in all the years you’ve been his first and only assistant–a perfect match for how much of a workaholic he is–you might actually opt to sleep in for once.

besides, it’s more productive if he gets it over with; crimes and mishaps never take breaks to party, after all—even during the holidays.

that’s what he’ll tell you, at least.

the party’s more for everyone else than him, anyway.

he clicks his pen, letting out another puff of warm air as he spreads the document in front of him:

page 1: basic information. identification details, time markers, a summary of the take-down.

page 2: breakdown of events. scene-by-scene, additional comments, a two-beat knock on his door.

then comes your voice, soft, unsure—

“sir?”

—before you step inside, heels clicking against the natural stone finish of his office floor.

he looks up, wide-eyed, piercing gray and blue.

your gaze flits to the papers in front of him, eyebrows scrunching before you sigh. there’s an all-too-familiar smile on your face, a quiet chuckle brought about by how characteristic it is of him to be in this situation right now.

“sir, that report is tagged yellow.”

he shifts, looking at your paper clip; without a word, the leather of his seat crinkles again. it’s like this with shouto sometimes, you’ve come to learn: a non-response is a response on its own.

when his eyes meet yours, you shiver.

goosebumps litter the sides of your arms, the decision to forego your blazer leaving yourself exposed to the chill of tonight’s office air. you try to hide it, but some things are impossible to keep from shouto.

of course he notices your jaw quivering.

“are you cold?” he stands up immediately, already moving halfway out from behind his desk.

“i’m okay, sir,” you stop him just as quickly, hands motioning for him to stay where he is.

two beats of silence find him tilting his head, gaze as intense as it’s always been pointed towards you.

“shouto.”

“pardon, sir?” you step closer, leaning forward.

“call me shouto.”

the red fabric in your hand almost slips from your hold.

this isn’t the first time shouto’s insisted on you using his name—he offered it up the moment he hired you, and the day you searched store after store for his thrifted leather chair during the agency’s second move; he’s suggested it plenty over the years, a casual reminder that it’s no big deal—if the world can call him shouto, so should you.

pro-hero shouto, top three in the charts.

pro-hero shouto, late to his agency’s holiday party because of paperwork—his tendency to be a workaholic.

pro-hero shouto, asking you to call him shouto, but not in the way the world does.

his eyes don’t leave yours as you blink, swallowing down your feelings (inappropriate, you tell yourself).

“shouto.” you repeat.

he nods slightly, a small, imperceptible lift to the corners of his lips. there’s an awkward pause as he looks down to the papers on his desk then up at you again.

“the party,” you clear your throat, smoothing out the fabric between your fingers, “you’re running late to your own party, si–shouto.”

he tilts his head again, confused, “is this party not for everyone else?”

you blink—he’s got you there.

“i guess that’s true,” you sigh, chuckling. a pause, “that report is still yellow, though.”

blue and gray land on white, bond papers spread out on his desk. he could argue with you, but where has that ever gotten him? you’ve kept him in check for years—it’s how he’s managed to stay on top of things.

he looks down at his jumpsuit, the same shade of blue since he was 15. not much has changed with the design of his hero suit, just an overall sleeker design fit to match his age. the utility belt still exists, albeit more compact and less clunky; a similar modification was done to the straps that run down the sides of his chest.

if anything, the biggest change is how the suit has molded around him—shoulders more defined, arms large enough for the fabric to cling onto it. shouto’s build has always been lean, but the areas of defined muscle stick out more evidently now that he’s older, much taller and wider.

“i don’t have a costume.” he pouts.

you grin, stepping closer to his desk, hips digging into the edge. the red santa hat unfurls from your hands as you wave it in front of him—a perfect match to the shades of his hair.

he blinks before you catch it, the slight curve of his lips as he leans forward, dipping his head low enough for you to reach the top of it. you tiptoe just a bit when you open up the hat to place it over his head.

you’re gentle with your touch, fingers running through the strands of his hair lightly; you tuck them neatly underneath the fluffy white rim of the santa hat.

(it’s warmer near him, you notice—his quirk regulating a circumference of heat around himself that extends to you right now, you know. but you’re confident you’d still feel your own version of it–on your cheeks, down your neck–even if he weren’t).

the hat sits perfectly atop his head, much like anything else that’s on him. when you lean back, moving away to take a better look, you notice it—

midnight blue, the backdrop on shouto’s floor-to-ceiling windows, littered with speckles of white—the first snowfall, and one you stand in awe of.

—gasping at the sight.

you’re still so near when your eyes light up, zeroing in on the view behind him. you can’t help it, that smile on your face, bright and pretty, he thinks; it’s a short moment, but he feels it, a two-part ‘ba-dump’ that resounds in his heartbeat.

a/n: they thrift the chair bc it's real leather so buying a new one is just no-no + he texts natsuo otw home after the party that he feels a bit funny! (it's just his feelings 😭)

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#shouto x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha #shotorus.workbook #sho

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months ago

Text

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddiesongfics #exes to lovers #getting back together #angst with a happy ending

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jensettermandu · 11 months ago

Text

birthday wish - jennie kim

genre; smut, slight angst, fluff, smut with some plot

pairing; jennie x g!p reader

content; breeding kink, oral (reader giving), spanking, rough sex, degrading, humiliation, creampie (?), brattiness, probably missed something

synopsis; it's her birthday and she only has one wish

wc; 17k+

masterlist

a/n: this was written in two days, sorry if it is not up to standard with my usual writing. i forgot about the bday since i don't usually write for anything special for them

Loud music, drinks (many free ones), dancing, and partying in a way she hadn’t been able to do in a couple of months. She was finally able to party like a teen which had been hard. Jennie had turned 28 and was reaching her peak yet at some point everything had turned sour and bitter in her life. It wasn’t unusual, things would always go up and down and she was old enough to accept it.

What was a lot harder to accept was the break-up she had with her ex-girlfriend about four months ago. The concept of not being good for each other, that loving wasn’t enough if they brought out these bad sides of jealousy, possessiveness, and the fights it would cause. It was a tough fall to break up with someone who she had started seeing when she was in her early 20s–22 to be exact and broken up with later on. That was someone she had spent half of her tweenies with.

That person who she had been at a peak with, who always made her feel like a teen in love. Who flew her through the sky, into a new universe and now had her crash back down to earth after a high that lasted for five years. Five years had been bumpy, but it didn’t matter if they had been trying all the time. There was only so long they could go off of feeling like teens when they were adults. At some point the fun had to be limited, or did it have to be? Did she have to grow up?

It was her Birthday.

Jennie and her friends had pre-gamed before they went bar hopping.

The idea?

They couldn’t wait for Jennie to get laid now that she was over her ex-girlfriend who they liked to call an asshole. Jennie would argue about that because she wasn’t an asshole. She just loved too hard and so did Jennie. An asshole wouldn’t be able to give Jennie the best years of her life despite having many more to come, nor would an asshole be able to give her mind-blowing sex.

The sex.

Jennie had found herself horny for the past month.

Jennie had found herself pathetically wasting money on sex toys that sufficed for the moment, but not long term.

All that, but she hadn’t been able to go out and meet someone to hook up with.

She was scared she would get disappointed and feel like only one person could satisfy her truly.

The woman wasn’t supposed to be running back to her ex after crying for two months straight, and then managing to slowly start functioning normally on the third and now was the fourth and she was out partying–looking to get laid and fully forget her ex by finding someone who could fuck her good enough.

Fuck it out of her mind, leave her memories a blur.

It was the third place they had been to.

“Anyone hot yet? We’re not leaving until you leave first because you’re going to drop your panties for a stranger.” Lisa was right by her ear as she spoke, shot still in her hand as the dozen girlfriends that Jennie was with had just been served another round.

“You have to lose your post-breakup virginity, babe.” Jisoo came from the other side and spoke into her ear, making Jennie giggle at the slurred words of the drunk woman.

“I’m literally on it, I’ve been standing and looking pretty the whole night,” Jennie argued as she wasn’t the one to walk up to someone.

“To sex!” Lisa’s words earned squeals and shouts from the other girls, Jennie drowned herself in yet another shot. Her world was slowly starting to spin, knowing that in three more shots, she would be perfectly drunk. That type that left her euphoric and not blackout drunk.

“I will be back.” Jennie found herself making it to the bathrooms, there was no line fortunately for her as she walked in. The music was still making her body vibrate despite being muffled in the bathroom that was filled with the chatter of girls in the cubicles and by the sink.

She was trying her best, but it was difficult to just throw herself back out there. There were plenty of fish in the sea, but the deep waters would always be scary and she had just managed to dip herself in it.

She reached into her purse after finishing her quick business as her phone had started to buzz. Her eyes squinted to read the texts that were a tinge blurry, all she could tell was that they were from her friends who had spammed the group chat and made it hard to understand what the topic was or why they were texting incoherent words to begin with.

“Jesus!” Jennie exclaimed at the bang that came on her door, making her shut her phone off right away. Her heart jumped at how scared she got and she planted her hand against the door for safety even if there were other people in the bathroom.

“Knock knock.” Her heart jumped much higher now.

“Y/n?” She questioned the voice that was all too familiar and made her whole body feel like jelly from the second she heard it.

“Hey, sexy.”

“No, definitely not, Y/n–get the fuck away from me.” It was like a disease if Y/n touched her. She would get infected right away.

Fun fact: Jennie lied to her friends when she said that she was over Y/n.

“Happy Birthday, Jen–”

“Please, we’re over, I do not want to see you and you know it, Y/n.” Jennie was desperate for the girl to leave. Her night had been perfect and now that Y/n had appeared from nowhere, she knew what mistakes she would make and how the night would get better because she missed Y/n. The easiest fish to catch for Y/n was Jennie, she reeled her in with ease.

It never was a messy breakup as they agreed on it, but it still took a toll because despite knowing that they at times were no good for each other, they still loved strongly. They loved each other stronger than anyone else, even their families didn't get that kind of love and Jennie loved her mother dearly. Which also made it an easy decision that was hard to go through with.

“Do I? I know that I want to see you, Jennie. I am quite sure you want to see me too.” Jennie heaved a sigh, staring at the stall door while fighting all these urges. She wanted to convince herself that she would stand in this cubicle until her death just to avoid Y/n. That if she walked out of it she would walk right past her and not look back because they were supposed to be looking at their future.

This was the woman Jennie had planned a future with.

She would let Y/n spit that addicting poison right back into her mouth, there were still remnants of it left as she hadn’t moved on.

She unlocked the cubicle.

God, Jennie was weak, as in literally and metaphorically.

Y/n blocked the way as she stepped inside the cubicle and closed it before locking it too. She leaned back against the door and her eyes took in Jennie to the fullest.

The brunette widened her eyes and looked up at the girl who was younger by a few months as she had that usual enigmatic smile that always made Jennie curious about what she was thinking. That always drew Jennie in and made her cling to her and ask about it all, the answers were always the best. Her face was still as perfect as when they met, those eyes that would always gaze with adoration, perfectly plump lips, upturned nose, her slim figure, and all that Jennie always was attracted to when it came to her looks. Although, it had always been far more than just her looks that Jennie was attracted to.

“Sexy was no joke–” Y/n stopped talking, realising that she hadn’t seen her in four months after seeing each other every day for the past five years and living together for the past three and a half. The cubicle was getting Jennie’s scent trapped, the one that made it possible to sleep at night and Y/n had to spray her sheets with it unless she wanted more sleepless nights. The woman was dressed simply yet she made it look complicated with her beauty, a backless top, and black cargos, her figure shown off. Black had always been her colour and Y/n had always loved her in black, from clothes to lingerie.

Neither of them was over the other.

“Y/n.” Jennie said and her hands came up to plant themselves against Y/n's stomach when she stepped closer. Y/n smiled, her hand brushing over Jennie’s bare arm and it was enough to send shocks of familiarity and longing through the kitten's whole body. It was like it was shaking her from how electric it was, it was as if her body was charged right back up and coming back to life.

She sighed and suddenly took the few steps back that were needed for her back to touch the stall and make her somewhat squirm at how cold it was against her shoulder blades. It was overwhelming to have Y/n so close to her, their eyes stuck right together, those emotions of longing, and sadness, yet so much happiness at the back of it all of seeing one another again.

“It was so different waking up today with an empty bed and no Jennie to spoil from morning to night—it was more than an empty bed.” Y/n’s tone fell, one that was loud enough just for Jennie to hear. The slender fingers reached up to the face that held home on it, fingers running along Jennie’s jaw. It was still the same woman, the one Y/n fell in love with.

This was so bad for the Jennie who had lied about moving on.

This was so good for the Jennie who never wanted to move on.

Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand and removed it from her face, although she didn’t let go of it. It felt too good to hold her again. “How did you know I would be here? You weren’t looking for me, were you?” A sly and cheeky smile graced Y/n’s lips at the question. Out of the whole nightlife of Seoul she still somehow managed to run into her. It was the popular area in Gangnam, one they used to head to all the time, but still.

“No, not much better to do on weekends than to go out with friends now that I don’t have you. I knew it was your birthday, so all I did was hope that you would show up at this club at some point.” She had hoped she would at least catch a glimpse of her. It was shot in the dark as Seoul was big and it had been hours since they went out, but all she did was hope that Jennie would head out for her birthday–hopefully without anyone new.

“I’ve missed you–a lot.” Y/n was the first to admit it, her fingers intertwined with Jennie’s as she had never let go of her hand. She raised it before pinning it beside her head, taking that small step that left them dangerously close to each other. Jennie gripped Y/n’s black sweatshirt, unsure if she wanted to push her away or drag her closer.

“I’ve missed you too.” There wasn’t a single nerve in her body that could make her hold back on those words. Jennie looked down at Y/n’s lips as she had licked them. God knew how much she had missed her. It couldn't have been healthy. It made Jennie act out in way she hadn't done before. It made her feel crazy.

“Are you here with someone?” Y/n knew the question could have many answers, she was praying for one that didn’t involve someone who had replaced her. Could anyone replace her?

“With–” The answer came before Jennie could utter it herself.

“Jennie?” It was Jisoo.

Followed by Lisa. “Are you here?”

“You think she just left?” Chaeyoung questioned.

“Check the stalls?”

The two looked at each other. It would be bad news for Jennie if she was seen with Y/n in the same cubicle right now. There was no way she would be able to explain herself and even if she would be able to–was it bad that she didn’t want to leave just yet? Maybe the best gift she could have received on her birthday was to fill that hole that had been left after an important part of her life had left. Even for one night.

Their silent communication worked wonders still after being away for four months. Y/n stepped back, grabbing hold of the top of the stall as she got on top of the toilet seat while helping Jennie up by pulling her by her hand. The two somehow managed to squeeze on that seat, holding onto one another to not fall.

Even if it was just for a night, it would still make it another memorable birthday.

Jennie didn’t have to tell her friends about it.

“I swear to God if she left with her.” The two looked at each other at what Chaeyoung said.

“Are you sure it was Y/n?”

“Yes, I could recognise that little shithead from miles away.”

“What did you tell them–” Jennie covered Y/n’s mouth so they wouldn’t be heard by accident. It was baffling to the girl to hear Chaeyoung talk about her like that. Had they both agreed to a breakup if Jennie had talked bad about Y/n to relieve her gloom and anger?

“She’s over her.”

“Who knows anymore? It’s like she’s someone completely different without her and it’s not even in a good way.” Y/n’s eyes softened at the words that left Jisoo and Jennie hid her face in her arm as she was still covering Y/n’s mouth.

“Maybe she found a hookup and forgot to text–just send another message because she’s not here.”

The two waited for a good minute before they climbed down the toilet seat and Jennie opened her phone to see the text in the group chat. This time she scrolled up to see that they were all saying how Y/n was at the bar and they were waiting for Jennie so they could leave for a new one. She decided to text them about finding a hookup.

“What did you tell them to hate me so much?” Y/n questioned again and Jennie put her phone away.

“I was pissed okay–cut me some slack if you were the one to walk out the door,” Jennie grumbled and opened the stall as she walked out of it at last. Y/n followed right after her, picking up in her pace as the shorter girl took quick steps until she got to the countertop with the sinks.

“Hey, hey, I thought it was a mutual agreement to break up.” Now Y/n was confused because despite it feeling almost impossible to leave they agreed on it. She thought they both left with the same intentions and the same mindset. They loved each other, but at times it felt like they did love too much and it held them back.

“Yeah, it felt like I had no other choice but to agree when you suggested that we break up.” Jennie had tried to force that mindset on herself, to be on the same page because she knew what the problem was of being together and still living in the past. They needed to grow up. It was stupid, she did want to grow up, but she didn’t want to grow apart. It caused her temporary depression, anger, and frustrations which she took out by bad-mouthing Y/n to her friends. It hurt her to see the woman she had spent five years with just walk out the door as if Jennie hadn’t been a major part of her life.

“Are you angry at me because you didn’t tell me how you felt?”

“Yes, I am because what would it change if I said no? I thought you knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want any of this, Y/n.” The latter was in disbelief at the words as she stood behind Jennie who was furiously washing her hands. It went quiet between the two of them, the only thing filling the silence was the muffled music and chatter of people around them. No one around them mattered though, they never did when they were together. It was like they were in a different world with each other.

Jennie stopped and held onto the counter, a frown on her face as she looked at Y/n through the mirror. She felt like a fool for being the only one, for thinking that Y/n would be able to read her mind. She knew that it was her fault too because it had been a suggestion and she agreed when she felt like there was no other choice. There was a reason why she had suggested it and Jennie knew that it was valid. She just didn’t want to go through with it and stupidly expected for Y/n to read her mind like some idiot.

“Come on.” Y/n didn’t answer the question. She couldn’t answer it because she didn’t want to hurt Jennie by making her realise the time they wasted away from each other. Y/n would have stayed. She only suggested what she thought would benefit them both, it did in one way as it let them realise what they truly needed.

They needed each other.

She grabbed her hand and Jennie was led through the club. She just let her steal her away. It was how they met and she would always let Y/n drag her anywhere like the first time they met at a party where Y/n dragged her away from it only to give her the most memorable night of her life by showing her how to let go.

“Jacket, why do you not have a jacket?” Y/n questioned as they stepped out of the bar and were met by the cold night of January with snow lying around.

“I left it in the car we came in.” Y/n shook her head while exhaling through her nose and removing the oversized leather jacket she had on.

“You’re being stupid–What’re you even planning to do?” Jennie questioned, Y/n was now left in the black loose sweatshirt as she moved behind Jennie. The girl looked back while putting her arms through the sleeves. She was confused, but she couldn’t just walk away. She had no idea what Y/n was planning on doing. They weren’t together, they were supposed to live their own lives, and she had no clue why she had stayed. What was the plan if they were broken up?

“It would feel wrong to run into you and not give you a gift on your birthday,” Y/n argued, coming back around and bending her knees slightly to grab the ends of the jacket to zip it up. Jennie was drowning in the warmth that Y/n had left after her together with the scent that she wanted to bury her face in. It felt like she would maybe regret it afterwards because she was quite sure they would go back to their new lives right after parting ways again. It would feel like the break-up all over again.

“I do not expect anything from you if we aren’t toge–” Y/n didn’t seem to listen to Jennie when she grabbed her hand and made her walk beside her. She didn’t hold her hand like they always used to do, but her palm rested against Jennie’s lower back to make sure that she wasn’t getting lost anywhere.

It was crowded with people, they were flooding from everywhere and Y/n kept walking without a stop. She was stuck with her gaze on Y/n who looked down at her with a small smile. It was enough to make Jennie’s world blind and her heart bounce in a familiar beat. Had she just broken Jennie’s walls down once again, but even quicker than she did the first time? It was frustrating. She let Y/n in so easily when she should lock her out, put up millions of walls, higher than the sky, with no way in or out.

“Y/n?”

There was so much she could tell her right now and she couldn’t tell how Y/n would respond to any of it.

“I know it’s a lot to ask for after everything, but could you do one thing for me, Jennie? To just forget everything for two hours, three tops.” Y/n interrupted all the questions Jennie would like to ask. She felt horrible to know the truth that they both agreed to something they thought the other wanted. Y/n never wanted to break up with her, but neither did she want to be an obstacle in Jennie’s life. The stupid little fights they had still hurt them both, the last thing Y/n ever wanted was to hurt Jennie, but she still somehow did.

She knew that she should have known, and maybe she did at the back of her head since she had known Jennie for over five years. Things sometimes just didn’t go as planned.

It wasn’t hard to forget when she was with her again. Y/n made everything bad go away.

“Fine, Y/n,” she still trusted her with her life. She'd jump right back into those deep waters where her only safety was Y/n.

“Okay, sit down right here and do not run away,” Y/n said after they had entered a convenience store. She pulled the stool out and guided Jennie to sit on it who was still busy figuring out what the girl was doing and why they had to pass so many other stores and stop at this one. With no other choice, Jennie sat and only glanced back at Y/n who disappeared between the shelves. There was slight anticipation growing in her the whole time, she stayed fiddling with her fingers as she rested her hands atop the table.

She stopped for a moment, grabbed the collar of the jacket that was oversized and pulled it up to her nose. The scent had washed off of her clothes at home, the clothes Y/n had left behind had been worn to where the scent no longer lingered on them and she had to wash them. It made Jennie curious how Y/n went through it.

Had she also been pathetically looking through endless photos in her gallery?

Drowned herself in Jennie’s scent?

Had Y/n finished the season finale of the series they had been watching together, but broke up right when the finale came out. Jennie had been waiting even if they weren’t together and would never get to know the end.

Had she been dwelling in all their plans for the future that now only was a past?

Had she been hurting just as much?

Jennie heaved a sigh and let go of the collar, reaching her hands up to her eyes as she knew that she wasn’t over Y/n. She was holding on, she was even out with Y/n even if it would feel like the break up all over again once Y/n would leave. Her fingers gently patted away the wetness that had warmed in her eyes. How did she let go of something that was securing her from falling off the ride?

It was time to stop dwelling when Y/n sat down right beside her on the vacant stool.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” The girl sucked air through her teeth and quickly put the noodle bowl down that was steaming. Jennie looked at what more she somehow managed to carry when she leaned over and dropped the things on the table.

“Since I am no chef, this is the best I could do and the ramen is how you like it.” She started while taking the ice cup and opening it. Jennie slid it over to herself and peeled off the lid fully. It was just ramen with Y/n making it fancier and better by adding more toppings; Jennie was desperate as she could never get it right since Y/n always made it for her the way Jennie loved it. It was just instant ramen, but it was her comfort food which hadn’t been the comfort she had been looking for. It would somehow suffice for now.

“Thanks.” She was a bit more than thankful, but she wasn’t sure how else she should thank her.

“Don’t thank me, it’s your birthday.” Jennie chuckled at that as she grabbed the chopsticks and looked at Y/n who poured the mango-flavoured iced tea into the cup with ice.

“Very thoughtful to drag me to a convenience store.” Y/n shook her head and picked up the cup, taking two big gulps before placing it back down.

“Yeah, God forbid I drag you to a fancy restaurant–don’t worry though…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie moved back slightly when she reached over to her. She smiled at Jennie, her face just a few inches away from Jennie’s as she reached over to the other side. Y/n’s hand reached into the right pocket of her jacket that Jennie had on while sitting on her left.

Jennie wasn’t sure what she wanted when Y/n was so close to her. One thing she was certain of was that she missed all of Y/n’s loving and caring touches, the ones that always touched her soul. Jennie missed being held in her arms, falling asleep with them around her. She missed the safety, the security that came from being in them, and the feeling of not having to be afraid to be herself because she trusted Y/n so much.

She grabbed what she was looking for with a sly grin as she pulled away. “If you celebrate, you have to celebrate right, don’t you?” Y/n let out in a more hushed tone that was still honeyed and Jennie could listen to her talking all day. That was something she had done because Y/n always had something to talk about.

The kitten parted her lips at the flask Y/n had taken out of her pocket, taking the cup down and placing it between her thighs. “Since when do you carry a flask around?” Jennie questioned, the last time she had seen Y/n with one was when they were still in college. It kind of worried her that maybe the girl had started drinking. Y/n let out a breathless chuckle, unscrewing the steel flask before filling the iced tea back up to the brim, but this time with tequila.

“Only today.” She reassured Jennie and lolled her head to the side to look at Jennie. That smile did not leave as she put the lock on, the flask back in the left pocket instead and she put the straw through the lock before mixing it up.

Jennie rolled her eyes as she, at last, started to eat the instant ramen that tasted better than most things she had ever eaten simply because it was made by Y/n. It also was something that killed all her cravings that were caused by the alcohol and food had simply never tasted better. Y/n always knew just what Jennie needed by looking at her. Yet she had somehow missed how Jennie never truly wanted to part ways.

“Just don’t inhale everything, I want a bite before you do.” Y/n laughed when Jennie elbowed her, making Y/n squirm away. “God, you’re rude.”

“Stop being a little piece of shit, Y/n.” Jennie seriously said and looked at Y/n who was already looking at her through her lashes with the straw in her mouth. “Not cute.”

“I tried.” Y/n said in defeat and handed the large plastic cup to Jennie who slid the ramen over to her with the chopsticks. “Oh, my bite is gonna come with extra flavours since there are Jennie germs in it.” Jennie hurt her throat when she swallowed the lump of iced tea with tequila before she could spit it out because she felt that huff before she giggled.

“Stop acting imbecilic.”

“Imbecilic, big words for a 28-year-old. I can say that I’m proud of you.” Jennie rolled her eyes and watched Y/n slurp up a bite of noodles with a hum after. “So good–”

“Don’t.” Jennie stopped her before she could say something stupid again and pulled the ramen back to herself. It was all coming right back, just being with Y/n for a few minutes, starting a conversation, and she was reminded all again why she loved her so much. How she made her feel so good about herself, how she cut Jennie slack by being herself which let Jennie drop all her guards down right away and be herself too. How she was back to feeling ten years younger and like she could just be herself for the night or whenever she got back home to Y/n–used to.

“Here, the monster is coming for your mouth, Jennie.”

“You did not just say that out loud Y/n.” Jennie giggled, the younger girl holding the gimbap and guiding it towards her mouth as it was still in one piece. Y/n gasped and looked at Jennie in disbelief. “Ew, why are you being dirty-minded, Jen.” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder, her cheeks hurting from how much she had been smiling and giggling. It didn’t matter if Y/n had asked her to forget everything for a few hours, Y/n automatically made her forget everything.

“You are, I didn’t say that I had something dirty in mind.” She defended herself. The two did not care about the rest of the people who went in and out of the store, or the people passing by the window. The radio played the most recent K-pop songs to fill the store, but all they could focus on were each other's words, giggles, and stares which were numbing all the pain.

Y/n grinned and shot her eyebrows up in a manner that suggested that the next words to leave her mouth would be far from appropriate as she still held the gimbap up ready to feed the feline. “Well, you can surely open wide enough for it to fit–” Y/n squeaked at the pain when Jennie this time hit her thigh, hitting a nerve because the pain made her hunch over.

“Not fitting at all.” Y/n chuckled at the words that came from Jennie and she looked up at her as she was still hunched over. “Is the joke not fitting or the gimbap?” Jennie groaned at that and Y/n sat up straight.

“Okay, here comes the train–Better?” Y/n asked.

Jennie hummed and opened her mouth as Y/n went back to trying to feed her a bite after they both devoured the noodles together. She grabbed hold of Y/n’s writs to make sure she aimed right and at last managed to bite off a piece. The latter reached over to Jennie’s face whose cheeks were fluffed out from having her mouth full.

Her finger brushed the corner of Jennie’s lips who only turned her head more to Y/n as she was used to it. The girl always fed her, always wiped her mouth, always knew what to order, what was needed in which mood. She scooped up the grain of rice and licked it off her thumb before poking Jennie’s cheek who whined.

“You’re still as cute when you eat, God I could squish the literal life out of you until there’s a bloody explosion.”

“That raises many warnings, Y/n,” Jennie mumbled as she swallowed the food at last and watched Y/n take a bite herself while Jennie took a sip of the iced tea that they had drunk a third off. It had made Jennie more than just a bit tipsy now, the drunk slowly incoming, but she didn’t mind as she could tell that Y/n was in the same state.

“It should because if I were to use enough pressure to squeeze you, you’d die.”

Jennie widened her eyes and slowly turned her head to the side to glance at Y/n.

“Why are you saying these things?” She questioned and Y/n fed her another bite.

“I don’t know, they are just these impulsive things that leave my mouth so be careful if they become actual gestures.” Jennie shoved Y/n who was laughing yet again.

The girl always did the most random gestures of affection towards Jennie. Say these words that were somewhere between cute and concerning, but Jennie loved it all. The way she would do more than just buy her flowers, all these small things Jennie had always taken notice of. She’d go as far as to perfectly place Jennie’s slippers beside the bed so she could slip them on right away when she woke up. Now Jennie’s slippers were mostly discarded messily because she always kicked them off when getting into bed with no Y/n to fix them.

“Hold on, or we will get there next week.” Y/n stopped and let go of Jennie’s hand that was clasped with hers, the older one swaying them back and forth as she was walking in a mix of steps, skips, and whatever else she was doing with her feet, dancing her way to the next destination which was slowing them down. Y/n needed to be there on time.

“You got me drunk.” Jennie sang out, shuffling in place with her feet.

“We’re in the same boat, Miss Kim.” The said girl giggled as she had been slowing them down by doing everything but walking. Y/n pulled Jennie to her by the jacket and she crashed into her.

“Where are you taking me?” Jennie questioned and Y/n turned around.

“Get on my back first.” She ushered and bent her knees.

“Want me to mount you like a stallion?” Y/n snorted at that.

“Who is dirty-minded now?”

“It’s a disease carried by you,” Jennie replied and grabbed hold of Y/n’s shoulders with her hands. She huffed and Y/n stumbled a step before managing to stabilise herself with her arms wrapping around Jennie’s thighs.

“Now I’m carrying a parasite–ouch.” Y/n winced when she got gently bonked at the top of her head before she looked to her side. Jennie peeked in with a smile on her lips, her arms loosely wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders whose eyes were creasing from her smile.

“Well? Walk, horsie.” Jennie ordered and gently nudged Y/n with her heel as if she were an actual horse.

She did start walking, making it out of the Gangnam district much quicker despite her legs needing some stabilising to not fall as her coordination was slightly off and she was carrying Jennie. The girl on her back rested her cheek against the side of her head, snuggling closer to Y/n to keep her warm as she still had her jacket on. She had already planned how to end up with the jacket at home because she knew that Y/n would walk her to the entrance of her apartment building at the end of the night. She never let Jennie walk alone at night, she’d always pick her up with the car if Jennie didn’t drive, or she’d walk with her. It didn't matter if Jennie was with friends or if Y/n was busy, she would always get there.

“Y/n…” Jennie mumbled, looking ahead as they continued to walk, Y/n adjusted the girl on her back as they were close to the destination. She hummed, glancing down at Jennie’s fingers to see the girl tugging on them and she could tell that whatever it was it was something that made Jennie worried or uneasy. “Did you–did you try seeing anyone during these four months?” She asked, dreading the answer because she had no clue how Y/n had spent these past four months. If she had spent two whole months crying, a month trying to leave the house without bags under her eyes or if she skipped all of it.

Y/n chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze that made Jennie whine at the ticklish sensation. “God no, I’ve been staying with my mum at this big age and working from home. I didn’t leave the house and just stayed with mum even if she continuously scolded me.” She admitted. She hadn’t even thought about another woman aside from Jennie. Y/n couldn’t tell how many hours she spent in bed crying while listening to the 'Disintegration album by The Cure'.

Jennie felt relief wash over her to know that she hadn’t been the only one. It made her feel less of a fool and made her feel better. It was confirmation that they both took it hard because they both loved each other.

“What was she scolding you for?” She curiously asked.

“Not obvious for your little pea brain?” Y/n questioned.

“Never mind then,” Jennie grumbled, rolling her eyes and Y/n stopped walking.

“Get off me now–” Y/n wiggled Jennie off of her, the girl sliding back down onto her feet, her hands letting go of Y/n’s shoulders when she was fully off. It felt cold and if they were both honest neither of them wanted to pull away. “She scolded me for leaving you and said that I would never get the family ring to propose to the next girl I would meet because you were the only right one and worthy of having it.” It made Jennie’s heart drop as Y/n grabbed her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. It hurt, it hurt them both badly to know that the planned future was in the past.

They had both agreed to wait for marriage and a family until they were at a perfect place in their lives. There was no such thing as a perfect place in their lives when it had been perfect ever since they met. The only thing they had to wait for was to finish studying and have stable enough jobs to start a family. Nothing could have been more perfect and they had waited long enough for a perfect moment to never come now.

Jennie sighed and looked down at her feet as she walked in sync with Y/n. The realisation of actually being 28 now hit her, and if she would ever move on, she’d be too old to start that family of two kids. Unless she would rush into it all. The anxiety started to eat at her as she had never processed what being 28 meant. What did it matter if she was working her dream job if she was earning money that let her live comfortably, if she was in a stable place in her life? When she wasn’t even close to stable in her love life that was dead.

“We’re here.” Jennie looked up from the void under her that was ready to swallow her as it had started to drag her down and had invited her to suffer with endless anticipatory fear. Over the five years she had spent her birthdays with Y/n, she had managed to forget how depressing they were. How anxious they had always made her. Another year had just passed by and there were things Jennie had yet to do. She had forgotten how much she hated birthdays.

Y/n took out her phone and looked at the time it was 11:09 P.M. and Jennie gasped when Y/n tugged on her. “Quick before it’s too late.” Jennie found herself running towards the Banpodaegyo bridge whose neon lights were glowing. People were walking along the bridge, but Jennie and Y/n were running like their lives depended on it.

“I’m gonna fall,” Jennie whined as her legs were barely keeping up with Y/n’s longer ones, to add she was still under the influence and her running felt bumpy and very unsteady. They made it onto the bridge, Jennie tried to slow down, but Y/n did not let her and continued to run. “Y/n!” The girl let out in panic, making Y/n look over her shoulder at Jennie who was doing her best to keep up. The two were too occupied to care about anyone who would glance their way. Her shorter legs were messily trying to run and she was sure she'd run into something if Y/n wasn't guiding her as she felt herself leaning to one side more.

It soon turned into giggles and Y/n finally stopped, letting Jennie crash into her when she turned around and yanked her into her. Her arms wrapped around the panting girl as they made it to the middle of the bridge. “I could have died.” She tiredly complained, heaving for breath as she was not the best athlete after drinking. Y/n chuckled and grabbed hold of Jennie’s waist, gently pulling her away and looking down at her as she looked up.

“You’re being dramatic–” Y/n said and turned Jennie to face the Han River, the kitten leaned against the railing and looked over the dark river where the moon was being illuminated. She let out a sigh, taking in the scenery while fog left her mouth from the small pants of air.

The younger one busied herself with digging through the pocket of her loose jeans. She got nothing and put her hand into the left one and finally stumbled upon what she was looking for. “Okay, here–you have to throw the coin into the water and make a wish, it’s about to be 11:11 and it’s your birthday so whatever you wish for has to come true.” Jennie turned her head and looked at Y/n with some confusion before letting her eyes fall onto the coin in Y/n’s palm.

“Y/n, I’m not five–” She was cut off by Y/n who took Jennie’s hand and put the cold coin in her hold.

“You are never too old for wishes, I have never heard of that law.” The younger seriously said and Jennie sighed as she turned back to the river. She looked down at the coin in her palm before she clutched it in her hand while Y/n leaned beside her and waited patiently. “Make sure to close your eyes, it’s 11 now.” She reminded her and watched how Jennie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Despite trying to protest at first she seemed to be in deep thought as her brows creased slightly and she was focusing hard.

Jennie threw the coin and opened her eyes as she stood on her toes to follow it with her eyes, but lost sight after a second as it got swallowed by the darkness. “When will it come true?” She asked and looked to her side at Y/n who was also looking over the railing too.

“You have to wait and it will come, could be in the next hour, day, week, or years, but at some point, it will come true.” Y/n reassured her before she pulled away from the railing. This time she took out her earphones, putting one in her ear.

Jennie frowned as she now was invested in the whole ordeal and wanted to see if it really would come true. Would she have to wait years?

“Come on,” Y/n grabbed hold of Jennie’s hand and the girl was somewhat hesitant to leave now that she had made a wish. Scared it wouldn’t come true if she left.

“But it will come true, right?” She asked to make sure while taking the one earphone that was handed to her.

“It’s the best day to make a wish since it’s your birthday, so obviously yes.” Jennie took one last glance before she clung to Y/n’s arm.

‘L$D - A$AP Rocky’

The two walked in silence through the rest of the bridge, rather admiring the moment in silence than filling it with chatter while listening to the music. The peace still managed to create memories as Jennie felt nostalgic and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was walking with Y/n again or not. Her side leaned into Y/n who put her arm around her shoulders as they walked instead. By the time they made it to the end of the bridge, the next song started playing and Jennie was so familiar with them that it confused her.

‘As Long as You Follow - Fleetwood Mac’

“You won’t mind if I take you to one more place?” Y/n questioned and Jennie looked up at her with docile eyes. She blinked them as they had glossed over and there was a lump in her throat for whatever reason. God, she did not want it to end. Jennie wanted this night to last forever. If she could somehow make it last forever she would do just that. Everything to not have Y/n leave her by the end of the night. Jennie shook her head as Y/n could take her to the edge of the world and she wouldn’t mind, she could drag her across all continents and she would be content.

The song was warming Jennie's soul, the lump pushing itself in her throat and she couldn't get over it. She almost wanted to curse Y/n out for playing Fleetwood Mac as they always listened to the band together. Y/n especially loved them. It was as if Y/n wanted to make her cry by playing this song and Jennie was forcing the tears back despite a few strays falling only to what she thought was her knowledge, forgetting that Y/n noticed everything about her. Her lips quivered and her heart thudded heavily.

Y/n hauled a cab and opened the door for Jennie who was citing all the songs.

‘Wot’s…Uh the Deal - Pink Floyd’

All of them weren’t necessarily songs Jennie listened to, but what Y/n listened to as she had a wide range of music tastes. She could still remember how excited Y/n would get to play them to Jennie on the guitar, acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter. She would sit down with Jennie and teach her how to play certain songs and help the girl get better at the string instrument. Sit right behind her and teach her each fret, tab, and chord that had to be played. She would always be so patient.

‘10:37 - Beach House’

Her eyes gazed through the window as she held onto Y/n’s hand who had her arm around her shoulders. The night slowly passed, people still roamed the streets, and lights turned red before turning green, Jennie only watched how the time passed while the car moved through the streets of Seoul.

‘Five String Serenade - Mazzy Star’

If she couldn’t make this night last forever, she would like time the time to pass by slowly. To make it last as long as possible, or for the road to never end and sit in Y/n’s arms her whole life. That way all her worries about her uncertain future would disappear. She would disappear in these songs while loving whatever simple things came to her as long as they were from Y/n.

‘What kind of love - Childish Gambino’

“Where are we going?” Jennie asked at last as she hadn’t heard where Y/n was taking them. She just followed. Y/n gave her a cheeky smile as she looked down at Jennie. Her hand untangled itself from Jennie’s two and she used it to brush away some of the hair that was falling in her face before letting her hand fall back down as it was resting around Jennie. The girl clung back onto it, playing with Y/n’s fingers. “You will see in a second ‘cause we’re almost there.” Jennie pouted at that and rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

‘Teenager - Deftones’

She started to feel like she had been thrown in a time capsule as the view of the Seoul tower was much more clear now. Jennie moved from Y/n’s hold and looked closer at where exactly they were heading. Her sight was somewhat blurry from the alcohol that she had consumed, but she knew that she wasn’t drunk enough to be this delusional.

‘Bel Air - Lana Del Rey’

“Why are we stopping by the cable cars?” She questioned and looked back at Y/n who paid the man who had driven them from the bridge to the cable cars that went up to the tower. Jennie wouldn’t be questioning it all too much if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was closed.

“I rather take a cable car than walk a dark trail at night, Jen,” Y/n said with a chuckle and opened the door before getting out. She held it open and Jennie got out with the girl’s help, bidding one last goodbye to the driver before closing the door to the car. With that she led the way, still dragging a confused Jennie with her.

“It’s closed though.” She deadpanned. It closed at 11 P.M. and it was 11:45 P.M. and Jennie’s birthday was almost over. She was starting to feel like Cinderella and soon enough she’d leave and leave everything behind her. Maybe this would be her last time with Y/n. It didn’t add up in her head and she didn’t want it. Although she felt like she wasn’t the one to make this decision, she was too scared to do it. What if she would get rejected?

“I helped a client invest and win a lot of money. He’s connected to the news Channel who owns it and since he was going to give me a bonus I asked if he could instead fix this for me.” Y/n explained and the girl frowned.

‘When the Sun Hits - Slowdive’

“Okay, and how did you time it all so well that it happened to be now that you ran into me?” Jennie questioned with some suspicion. Y/n chuckled, the kitten looking at her to see the dimples showing and she squeezed her smaller hand.

“Hey, I told you that I hoped I would run into you earlier and so with that hope, I picked this date and if I hadn’t run into you, I would have gone with one of my friends or alone.” Y/n shrugged it off as she knew that Jennie would realise soon enough as the strongest effects of the alcohol had slowly started to subside. They were approached by a guard and Y/n confirmed her identity as Jennie was digging in her blurry brain for what it exactly was.

It wasn’t long until they had made it up the stairs and the cable car was open and waiting. Y/n let Jennie get on first before getting on after the door closed. It was in queue when the next song started playing and Y/n laughed.

‘How You Remind Me - Nickelback’

“It doesn’t count if you aren’t screaming the lyrics Jennie—And this is how you remind me.”

“Y/n…”Jennie shied away like she always did.

“Come on, it’s just us—” Jennie looked unconvinced for a second as they sat in the cable car that was riding up over the dark forest, over the empty road. She giggled as Y/n pulled out the invincible guitar as the pre-chorus started. It was somewhat between childish, but also freeing as Y/n turned up the volume. “Sing or you are flying out.” Y/n threatened.

There truly never were any reasons to hold back when she was with Y/n and they always screamed songs until they lost their voices.

“It’s not like you to say sorry!”

Maybe it was because she was still under the influence, but it could be Y/n’s influence or the alcohol. She found herself singing the whole song with Y/n, knowing every word of it while sharing the invincible microphone with Y/n. The second Y/n laid her eyes on Jennie the girl had that big gummy smile that she adored so much. It was a smile she always wanted to be the cause of and she knew that it wouldn’t be possible if they were away. Unless Jennie still smiled this big whenever she looked back at the memories they had made together.

It was that feeling of being back in college, of being back together with Y/n. Screaming songs, wandering nights, getting lost in what love was for them. It was overwhelmingly good and it was sentimental whenever she looked back at those times. They had never been lost as she knew that Y/n let her live it all over and over again, but that was when they were together. Love was something only Y/n could make her feel on this type of level. The one that healed all the time, surely forgetting all the suffering she had done the past four months.

“All we need to do now is start a band together,” she found herself giggling at Y/n’s words, burying her face in her shoulder as they took out the earphones. She wrapped her arm around Jennie, rubbing her back and unable to even try to let the smile fall. Compared to the Jennie she first cornered in the bathroom, it was like seeing the Jennie she left, being able to bring her right back to life. The Jennie she never should have left even if they both agreed that it would be better. At times there is no such thing as the right thing to do, but possibly people could forgive the mistake when all she had in mind was the best for the girl.

Jennie heaved a sigh and suddenly, as if lightning struck her and woke her up, she realised what it was. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything they had reached the top and their fingers intertwined as they walked out. With a man from staff, they were led to the tower and then to the elevator.

Y/n looked down at Jennie, she kind of figured that the woman had figured it out by now. She looked almost devastated as her gaze was on the floor.

She felt like crying, she wanted to hate Y/n for doing something like this to her, but she couldn’t. This was probably the best gift she could have received, but the biggest problem was that she didn’t have Y/n. They walked out of the elevator, it was silent with just the two of them and Jennie let go of Y/n’s hand as she walked over to the windows. The whole thing was overwhelming as she was keeping her tears at bay and bit her lower lip, taking in a shaky breath as she looked over the view of Seoul at night in the tower that was closed to everyone but them…again.

Y/n put her hands in her pockets to warm them and stood just a step behind Jennie, being able to catch the woman’s reflection in the window. She had realised and Y/n had been expecting Jennie to get emotional because she was always a soft and emotional kitten.

“Those were all the songs we listened to that night in the exact order.” Jennie pointed out as she realised why the songs brought her so much nostalgia and why the order of them rang so many bells in her head. She wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, but the order was just right and now they had screamed the lyrics in that cable car once again while reaching the top. It all came rushing to Jennie.

“I know,” the taller girl simply replied, but she had hoped the whole night that Jennie would realise.

Now it made sense why they walked past so many convenience stores before they at last walked into that specific one.

“But you said that you put on shuffle with over 5k songs in your liked ones,” Jennie mumbled and lifted her head to catch Y/n’s reflection. The view was mesmerising, but what Y/n had done, what she had given her as a birthday present was much more meaningful and mesmerising than the view. It made Jennie turn around to look at her, a pout resting on her lips as her cheeks were stained with a few tear streaks.

“I made sure to put them all in a playlist until we stopped listening, which was when we left the cable car back in 2018, January 16th when we first met and I stole you from a club.”

Jennie jutted out her lower lip as Y/n had always been thoughtful, had always done small gestures that meant the world to her, and had been loving and caring. She hated that she had to be all those things when they weren’t together. It wasn’t fair. “Why?” Her voice cracked and her nose pricked before the tears won and spilled over her eyes.

Y/n gave her a soft and gentle smile, taking her hands out of her pockets. Her hands came up to Jennie’s face as she cupped her cheeks which were cold and soft in her hold, wet with tears that were warm on her cold skin that was tinted a light pink like her nose. She leaned into her hold with a sniffle, the ice on her skin melting at how good it felt to be in the warmth that was home.

“I kind of figured out that night that I would marry you and you seemed to be in bliss because of the night—so I thought that if I were to mess up big along the way I could replay the night for you and make it good again by doing exactly what I did the first time we met and then got together shortly after.” The girl admitted. She had regretted every moment away from Jennie because what she thought was right truly wasn’t. Her last hope was to show Jennie what they were together and hope that even if she suggested it, Jennie would want her right back. It was a stupid mistake, but everyone made them. Y/n just hoped that it wasn’t too late to fix what was broken.

She at least didn't want Jennie to hate her, hoping all she could leave were good memories after her.

Nothing was broken though. They were only broken away from each other, but it was like kintsugi the second they were right by each other again.

“I regret even suggesting it but I was thinking of you—” Jennie didn’t want to hear it, she didn’t blame Y/n. She had seen it from Y/n’s point of view and she knew how she always put Jennie first.

“I know that you were. I think we needed to be away from each other to truly realise how much we need one another to never take the other for granted or do anything to lose each other. To remember how much good we brought each other.” Jennie mumbled and Y/n huffed in relief through her nose as Jennie had always been understanding of her thinking and how she didn’t mean to make things more complicated than needed. It was enough for Jennie to forget the bad and only remember how much good they had brought, how much that had changed their lives in only good ways and she would forever cherish that.

She let go of Jennie and pulled her in for a hug, the shorter girl wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist. She shed her last tears into her shoulder while Y/n soothed her, kissing the side of her head, and rubbing her back while holding her firmly. Jennie couldn’t tell what she was crying over anymore, but the relief made it impossible not to cry. She was still trying to comprehend how they after six years did everything they did the first time they met on Jennie’s birthday.

How Y/n somehow convinced Jennie to leave the club with her (she forgot safety the second she saw the girl).

She had dragged Jennie to that exact convenience store where they ate the same things, and Y/n mixed mango iced tea with tequila that they shared.

When they left and got to the bridge where Jennie made the wish and threw a coin in. A wish that came true because her drunk self wished for Y/n to ask her out despite meeting just an hour prior.

How they listened to music after (those exact tracks) and took a cab.

The only difference was that Y/n had managed to lie their way into letting them take the cable car and be in the tower for just a few minutes.

After that, Y/n walked Jennie to her college dorm and got her number before they parted ways.

They had taken a cab back to the place they used to share where Jennie stayed alone now. Y/n took the elevator up with Jennie who was now opening the door and as she did– “My baby boy.” Y/n cooed as Kuma ran out barking and jumping at her legs as she hadn’t seen him in four whole months. She picked him up, moving her face away as he tried to lick at her.

“I feel bad for even saying this, but he stayed every day whining by the door and waiting for you,” Jennie admitted as she stood in the door frame, removing her sneakers and pushing them aside. She looked at Y/n who was crouched on the floor with the dog going crazy in her arms. The little puppy they had gotten together because they had still been young and wanted some kind of family together.

“I am so sorry, Kuma.” She apologised, feeling almost just as bad for leaving him as she did with Jennie.

Jennie bit her lower lip, watching the two as Y/n put him down, but he started to run around her and barked some more. Kuma wasn’t letting Y/n go, just like Jennie didn’t want to let go. “You could come in, Y/n…” She suggested and Y/n looked from the floor, a glint in her eyes as they trailed from Jennie’s legs, over her whole body before they got to her eyes.

“Nightcap?”

“Yes, just get inside.” Y/n chuckled and picked up the dog before stepping inside the familiar apartment. It was a home, it used to be at least, but what made it a home was Jennie. She slid off her shoes as Jennie walked further inside. Her feet led her to the living room that still looked the same and the other woman wasn’t there yet as she trailed to another part of the apartment. She slumped down onto the couch and put Kuma in her lap.

Her eyes landed on the marble coffee table and she leaned closer while petting the dog. She chuckled at the thought that came to her mind. “Jennie?” She called for the woman, and the sound of her light footsteps came from behind as she left the kitchen. She hummed and Y/n turned to her, taking the whiskey on the rocks that Jennie handed her. “Did you manifest this?” She questioned and looked back down at the Polaroid photo of her right by the candles.

Jennie groaned at that as she saw how it looked. “No! I did not. I like candles and it just happened that I left it there before leaving the apartment.” She explained in her defence. The photo had been behind her phone case for all those months until she left today with the plan to hook up with someone. God forbid one of her friends would see her still carrying that picture after she purposely made Y/n look like she was a jerk behind closed doors—she wasn’t. Now it was lying by the candles and looked like she had been sitting and manifesting all of this.

“So, I’m the only one?” Y/n questioned as she took out her phone and placed it upside down on the coffee table. A polaroid of Jennie in the case and she took a sip of the cold hard liquor while glancing at Jennie who walked around to sit on the couch. The jacket she got to borrow was discarded as she left it in the kitchen just to make sure that Y/n would forget it.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest before taking a sip of the golden brown liquid that hit her taste buds. It made her somewhat wince as she was always between liking and hating whiskey depending on the brand. “First of all, I took it out today, second, I'm not obliged to carry it around,” Y/n gave her a look as she knew that Jennie was trying to get on her nerves. She loved playing those little games where Y/n would piss her off and she’d do it back. Part of why she told her friends things that weren’t true.

Jennie loved being petty like that and was getting back at Y/n right now.

“So, you’re not going to put it back?” She questioned, taking sips from the crystal whiskey glass, the ice clanked around in their glasses while they looked at each other.

“Nope, it would get in the way, wouldn’t it?” Y/n helped Kuma down on the floor before she reached back for her phone. Jennie watched the girl with intensity and felt something boil in her when she saw Y/n open her case. “What’re you doing?” She seriously asked. Through the months just the thoughts of Y/n seeing someone else made Jennie kick and scream in emotions that were green and red. She was ready to pay people to stay away from her and hire people to pull every person Y/n would try to be with apart.

“Your picture will get in the way.” She shrugged, quickly taking yet another sip of the whiskey and putting the glass down. It let her use both her hands and Jennie found herself placing her glass down too. It was boiling inside Jennie and she wanted to strangle Y/n for even uttering those words.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” Her tone went into that angry one that Y/n knew. Not angry even, emotions she only felt when it came to Y/n who she couldn’t stand thinking about being with anyone but her. She would be jealous, she’d die in jealousy, she lost it when she saw Y/n being approached by women who had clear intentions of flirting–she knew that Y/n at times gave in to the flirting just to see Jennie jealous and angry.

“I think I do if I want to find someone to hook up with–” Jennie clenched her jaw and moved onto her knees as she faced Y/n. She tried to reach for her phone but the girl held it away from her, making Jennie crawl to get closer and try to reach for it. “Weren’t those your intentions tonight when you went out and took out my picture? Oh, I clearly remember what Lisa said in that bathroom.”

“Stop that.” Jennie snapped as Y/n was reaching to remove the polaroid. It made Jennie grab hold of her arm with both hands and tackle it down onto the couch.

“You little bitch.” Y/n grumbled as Jennie snatched the phone out of her hold, lying across her lap. She tried to reach for it with her right hand since Jennie was lying with her upper body on her left one. The kitten bit Y/n’s hand when she tried to take it, busy adjusting the picture so it would be back in place. She hissed and pulled away to see a bite mark on her skin right under the knuckle of her thumb.

“Hey!” Y/n exclaimed.

“Hey.” Jennie mocked and tried to open Y/n’s phone only for her face ID to not work. She gasped as her face ID had been removed, she tried the pin, but it wasn’t working either.

“Jennie.”

“Give me my phone before you block it.”

“Give me my phone before you block it. Who do you have on here that you changed your PIN and removed my face ID?” Jennie continued to push Y/n’s buttons who had been pushing hers. That brattiness came right out as she was ready to give her attitude because she couldn’t phantom that Y/n had done these things. Furiously, she continued to guess the pin with all the important dates and numbers Y/n liked.

“I told you something.” Y/n tried to reach for it again while trying to wiggle out her other hand that Jennie had in a death grip. It only got smacked away.

“I told you something. How ‘bout you do something about it?” Jennie pushed and looked over her shoulder with a frown to ask about the pincode. “What’s–Ahh, Y/n.” She whined when the palm collided against her ass making her squirm at the pain. Jennie had almost forgotten about how horny she had been until that pain shot to her clit instead. She felt somewhat embarrassed and her head fell as she kicked her feet with another whine. It was so unexpected that she had no clue how to react or feel.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.”

It went silent and Y/n waited for what Jennie would say or do. That smack just came naturally and she hadn’t controlled it. Whether Jennie was pissed or not, that spanking wasn’t something she could take responsibility for when Jennie worked her nerves so well.

“Stop being a pain in the ass.” She mocked once again, imitating Y/n who groaned. The little giggle that came from Jennie who lifted her head didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you laughing?”

“Are you laughing?” Jennie knew exactly how much Y/n hated it when she would imitate her without an end. The thoughts made her lift her ass slightly, wriggling in Y/n’s lap as she pushed it out. There was a tension between her legs and she wanted it gone.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so annoying. Cry about it, Y/n.” She hissed at the girl. It was soon followed by something that was between a groan and a moan as Y/n spanked her ass once more which made Jennie raise her hips and writhe into the couch cushion. That sensation made her cunt throb and slowly start leaking as she clenched her thighs for some relief. It was hard to control as her ass purposely tried to invite Y/n for more as it was turning her on.

“Tell me what it is, Jennie. Why do you need this?” Y/n questioned and looked at Jennie who was still clutching the phone. She huffed and lifted her head, looking over her shoulder and at Y/n. A little smile on her lips, one that was mischievous.

“I did some things you wouldn’t be happy about–been a very bad girl.”

Y/n gripped at the underside of her thigh just under her ass, squeezing it and making Jennie squirm at how ticklish it was on her sensitive thighs.

“You have?” Jennie bit her lower lip and nodded her head.

“What did you do?”

Jennie purposely lifted her hips and arched her back, being on her knees with her hands stretched out in front of her, chest pressing into the couch. She let go of the phone, Y/n’s eyes on the ass that was in the air and she moved her hand up to it. The kitten jutted her lower lip out in feigned despair. “I’ve been out the whole night looking for someone who would fuck my needy little pussy because the toys haven’t been able to satisfy me…” She looked even sadder now as if she's been having the hardest time of her life because of these things and what she said after seemed to be even more devastating for her. “There hasn’t been any cum in me for so long, no one to fill me, breed me, no cum for me to clean up–I’ve been feeling so useless and empty.” She mumbled, with tears brimming in her eyes.

“So, it’s not my fault for looking for someone to do it,” Jennie added in her defence. The heat shot right to her clit again, her ass burned in the best way possible as she could only moan when Y/n spanked her again.

“Y/n, it’s not fair!” She cried out despite enjoying it. The latter was growing hard, thinking about Jennie’s snug and pink pussy that she’s missed being inside of. The one she missed abusing, filling with cum, if not her other holes. Jennie loved it all, she especially loved cleaning up the cum that leaked out of her after.

“How is it not fair? I’m not the one who's been walking around like I’m in heat and looking for strangers to fuck me.” Her hand ran over Jennie’s inner thighs before she made it to the girl’s pussy which was covered by the black cargo pants. It was enough to make Jennie whine and try to rub her throbbing cunt against the hand that cupped her heat. Y/n’s other hand stroked along Jennie’s bare spine which was warm and arched to show off her ridges.

“It’s my birthday.” Jennie slyly pointed out.

“I’m supposed to give in because of that? Give you a free pass?” Y/n asked, gently rubbing Jennie’s clothed cunt. The girl desperately tried to push her hips more into the hand that removed pressure every time she tried. It was keeping her on the edge as she pathetically continued to try and hump at Y/n's hand.

“Yes. Please creampie my pink and tight little pussy and make me a mommy tonight.” The erection was now straining against Y/n’s jeans as the offer was one she did not want to pass on despite it giving Jennie a free pass. Her brain cells reasoned with each other, agreeing on it being Jennie’s birthday even if it was past 12, but it didn’t count until they went to sleep and woke up. Her eyes gazed into Y/n’s, practically daring her to do it.

“Get up,” never in her life had Y/n seen Jennie get up so fast. The girl always liked to take her time simply because she wanted to or because she wanted to annoy Y/n. The giggly and horny Jennie ran towards the bedroom with Y/n taking long strides right after her.

The bedroom was also the same with Jennie on the bed unzipping her pants. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Y/n complained and the feline pouted when her hands were pushed away from the fly of her cargo pants.

“I’m so horny though.”

“I can tell that much,” Y/n commented with her hands pulling Jennie up to sit. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled her down, hands gripped at her waist and she got her breath taken away. Jennie melted and healed when she finally had Y/n’s lips against hers again. She didn’t want to wait when she tilted her head and opened her mouth for the tongue to push against her. It tasted of whiskey, it was just as intoxicating and was washing over her body, injecting itself deep within her veins.

One person could only satisfy the other.

Jennie couldn’t even satisfy herself when she was horny. Y/n knew just how to eat her out, stuff her with cock, fuck her, make her orgasm and beg for more.

She swallowed Y/n’s tongue, sucking on it and the girl groaned when Jennie’s hand came down from her shoulder and rubbed at her cock through the pants. It was making Jennie’s clit throb painfully, just feeling Y/n’s cock was making her try to clench her thighs that Y/n stood between. Both her hands went to the bulge, rubbing at the outline while undoing the zipper with her other while Y/n threaded her fingers through Jennie’s hair.

“Please, please–” Y/n cut Jennie off who pulled away and was about to plead for her to start fucking her.

“I will, but you have to show off for me first.” She pried Jennie’s hands away from the hem of her jeans and pulled her up onto her feet. “I know it’s your birthday, but you said yourself that you were a bad girl, so this is the least you can do.” Y/n ushered and smiled at Jennie as the girl squinted her eyes.

The girl was determined to show Y/n exactly what she walked out from. Her eyes were laced with seductiveness even if the girl was stalling her orgasm. The girl reached into the pocket of her pants and took out her phone, Y/n smiled bigger and leaned back against her palms as the smart home speakers started to play Champagne by The Weeknd . Jennie turned around and tossed her phone onto the dresser.

Her eyes watched Jennie’s every move and her fingers grabbed hold of the small piece that was tied at her side to hold the shirt against her body. She pulled it, slowly, Y/n’s eyes stuck on the slim back and just watching her was enough to make Y/n’s chest heave even more. Jennie undid it, her hands running over her body, tugging up the open-back shirt with her before letting go as it fell back down. Y/n waited in anticipation, almost regretting it as she couldn’t wait for Jennie to remove the shirt and turn so she could see her chest.

Her body gently moved to the music, her fingers ran over her arm and over to the one strap before she gently tugged it down. The other hand ran under her shirt towards the other strap. She made sure to let out a light hum to let Y/n know that she ran over her breast before she reached the strap. Jennie slid them down her shoulders, the shirt fell with a soft thud to the floor.

She had yet to turn around though.

Instead, she finished undoing her pants and proceeded to bend over with her fingers hooked around the hem. It couldn’t have gone slower, the way she slowly started to pull them down her ass, revealing more and more of the flesh and lacy material of her black cheeky underwear. They went up her ass as she got the pants under her cheeks. Her ass was plump and pushed right out with her puffy pussy, the woman’s back arched and her eyes coming to peek over her shoulder. Her feline eyes were clouded by lust and she looked back in front of her as Y/n looked hypnotised.

She pulled them further down, revealing her creamy thighs inch by inch while making sure to show off how agile she was by slowly bending herself in half. It wasn’t until they were resting by her calves that Jennie started to get down on her knees to the music. The girl was holding back from dragging Jennie to bed now. She got on her knees, her back straight and showing off her perfect posture as she slid into a side-sitting position with her legs on one side (left), the pants fully discarded now. Her hand came over behind her and dragged her hair to one side of her shoulder, looking to the side while doing so. The movements were soft.

She moved her legs further, taking them in front of her and spreading them open. Her palms planted behind her and slowly slid against the rug, reclining herself back. It was hypnotising, her chest at last coming into view, more and more until she was lying on her back. Jennie loved showing off her body, especially to Y/n and no one else. Her body was just for Y/n and whether it was her birthday or not, a striptease was just as satisfying to her as it was to Y/n. (She was also aware that she had to pay for what she did when trying to look for someone else.)

She couldn’t begin to explain how much her clit started to throb when she caught the look on Y/n’s face. The wetness was gushing as she loved being admired by Y/n. It was almost enough to get off for Jennie. Her hand came between her legs, her hips moved in a fluid wave like motion when she whined them into the fingers that brushed over the slick material, fingers threading into the rug as her eyes closed. She continued to run her hand up her body, fingers feather-likely running over her skin which made her chest heave and body move. A soft moan slipped past her lips when she brushed over her nipple until she reached her throat.

Jennie was quick and agile in the way she smoothly turned from her back and onto her stomach. Her eyes were almost predatory the way she looked up at Y/n while slowly pushing herself up, ass coming up first with hands stretched out in front of her until she pushed herself forward and was standing on all fours.

Slowly she crawled the small distance like a cat over to Y/n, her hips moving, her back still arched. Jennie reached the girl and got on her knees while looking at her through her lashes, her hands grabbed hold of Y/n’s knees, pulling her legs apart to get between them. In one smooth motion, like waves, she slid up, getting on her feet and coming face to face with Y/n, her hands holding onto Y/n’s shoulders.

“Am I excused for being bad?” Jennie questioned, her chest heaving, as if she ran a marathon, but the arousal was just getting overwhelming. She could feel how sticky it was between her legs, everything spilling and smearing on her inner thighs. The underwear piece was ruined. Y/n licked her lips and grabbed her hips, looking down at Jennie’s chest, her nipples perky, her breasts plump.

“More than excused—you deserve to not only get your pussy stuffed but also eaten.” There was that vocal fry in Y/n’s voice that Jennie knew so well. It meant that she would get her pussy messily devoured. She squealed when Y/n got up and put Jennie on the bed, she pushed her back and leaned down. Fingers threaded into her hair when she attached her lips to Jennie’s chest first.

It was eliciting small whines and gasps, the tongue swirling her nipple, teeth gently tugging, the other being roughly groped the way she liked it. Y/n wrapped her mouth around as much soft flesh as possible and sucked before licking. Jennie’s hips were pathetically bucking at the heat that was bubbling in her stomach because of it. “Y/n!” She cried out at the way her nipple was pinched between Y/n’s fingers, the girl tugged on the bud after and started to kiss down to Jennie’s cleavage.

“Please, I promise, I taste so good,” Jennie begged as Y/n was kissing down her stomach. The kitten squirmed when her nipple got flicked, the bud more swollen and red now as Y/n had abused the sensitive nub that was stiff.

“Have you been cleaning up your messes lately?” Y/n asked with a smirk, glancing up at Jennie who had her head thrown back with her back arching, hips desperately pushing into Y/n. She whined, not wanting to answer the embarrassing question as she had been feral trying to fuck herself right only to make a mess but not orgasm hard enough. This time she cried, slightly kicking her feet when Y/n twisted the same nipple again.

“Answer, Jen.”

“I lick my fingers clean because they get so messy.” She admitted in a whine, her cheeks even more flushed as it was now just flowing out of her. Jennie always got so wet, and someone had to clean it after. Y/n was well aware of how Jennie would always leak with juices. The videos she’d send of playing with her pink pussy when Y/n wasn’t there to eat her out, making sure to show how she would lick up the sticky mess of her fingers after getting as much as possible on them. She loved sucking Y/n’s cock, especially to have cum shoot into her mouth that she’d swallow.

“You want me to taste you?” Y/n continued to tease as she was on her knees and Jennie pushed herself up. A look of desperation on her face, tears welling in her eyes as it was hurting now. “Yes.” She watched Y/n who hooked her fingers around her underwear and she started to tug them down. They clung to her wet cunt, pulling a sticky mess with them as Y/n peeled them off and dropped the ruined material on the floor.

“All for you.” Jennie surely invited the girl who was on her knees in front of her by spreading her legs, her hand coming in between her legs. She bit her lower lip as Y/n watched her use her fingers to spread her glistening and puffy folds. Her hole was clenching in greediness as her arousal was slowly leaking out of it, running down her ass and onto the sheets. She ran them over to her clit, showing the swollen bud by pulling back the hood. Y/n smiled and gently removed Jennie’s fingers as she had shown off her cunt enough.

The girl waiting, finally in the only suitable outfit on a day like this, in her birthday suit.

“I will make sure to take it all.” Y/n reassured her and Jennie’s hand gripped onto her hair while Y/n moved Jennie’s leg to wrap it around her shoulder. The girl groaned as Jennie forcefully pulled on her hair and shoved her face fully into her cunt. She gasped, squirming and grinding her hips into Y/n’s face when she licked right up along her slit, tongue spreading her lips. The taste washed over Y/n’s tongue, it was addicting and she moved back down, her tongue flat against the heat as she licked up from the sopping hole, bringing it all up to her clit.

Jennie’s lips stayed apart, breaths desperate and the sounds falling from between them as she couldn’t control it neither could she control the squirming into Y/n’s face. “Fuck, Y/n–more, I want more,” she whined, her eyes falling closed and her back hit the mattress as she couldn’t hold herself up.

Y/n sucked onto her outer lips, sucking them in and teasing with her tongue, dipping down and nudging the grasping hole with her tongue, swirling it which made Jennie gasp and writhe for more. However, she would feel bad if she teased Jennie for too long as the girl had been all ready since they entered the bedroom. Her hand gripped Jennie’s hip to ground them and control their whining as they weren’t controlled by the nymphomaniac that Jennie was.

“Oh God, I’ve missed you so much, the way you fuck me.” Jennie cried out when lips wrapped around her clit, the tongue firmly flicking at it at a perfect angle. Y/n ran her other hand over to Jennie’s hole, her one finger teasing around the hole while she continued to flick at her clit. Her tongue moved quickly, harshly flicking back and forth as it always made Jennie’s thighs quiver, trying to close around her head and leave the girl unsure of what to grip onto or how to act.

Her juices were smearing over her chin, running down and creating a mess and Y/n couldn’t help but dip down for more. The pleasure didn’t stop for Jennie who gyrated her hips into Y/n’s nose while the girl lapped at her hole, gathering the stickiness on her tongue before bringing it back up. She swirled around her clit before she wrapped her lips around it and suckled hard enough for Jennie to moan louder and arch her back off of the mattress. The birthday girl had always been vocal and sensitive to all touch when it came to Y/n. She was quite sure it was because of how many chemicals her body released around her, the oxytocin overflowing.

With ease, Y/n pushed two fingers into Jennie who sucked them in right away. Her walls were warm and throbbing, continuously clenching around the two slender fingers that started to push into her. “So close, I want it,” Jennie mumbled, a few coherent words coming from her now and then as she was lost in the firm and slick muscle that worked her swollen and pulsating clit while fingers pressed against her g-spot. She could feel it coming, the way her stomach started to drop and heat up.

“How bad do you want it?” Y/n gruffly questioned by pulling away for a split second before going right back.

“So bad, I will cry if I don’t get it–play with my pussy until it hurts. All yours.” The words flew out of her blabbering mouth, gasping and falling out of breath. She had been longing for more than Y/n and her love, but this type of love too.

“I love it, you fuck me so good with your tongue. Oh God–” Her chest heaved, her fingers tangling themselves in Y/n’s hair who groaned at the pain while eating at Jennie’s cunt. The mess ran down her chin, down Jennie’s ass, staining the sheets. The sounds were lewd, Jennie moaning, gasping, and whining, and the way Y/n was eating her pussy was making the wet sounds bounce off the walls in the room from the licking and sucking. The younger let out her moans and groans at how much she enjoyed having Jennie squirm while eating her out.

Her thighs shook while clenching around Y/n, her voice strained, her body spasming as she arched off the bed with her hips bucking into Y/n. Jennie lost control of her voice, cries flying out as everything disappeared, her ears ringing and her vision dying out. Her hand flew to her breast, grabbing hold of it as she had no clue where else to grasp. Her walls clasped around Y/n’s fingers, thudding around them as the orgasm crashed through her. It went on for a good few seconds as Y/n didn’t stop and continued to flick at her bud.

It wasn’t until Jennie was panting for breath and instead of pulling her into her pussy she was pulling her away that Y/n stopped. She slowed down, gently cleaning up the mess that Jennie’s cunt was, the girl wriggling under her from the kittenish licks lapping up the juices. Her body relaxed at last, slumping into the mattress and closing her eyes, her pussy palpitating from aftershocks.

“No…” She whined, convulsing and closing her legs with her hands flying between them as Y/n was no longer between them. A heat ran over her at the painful slap that landed against her swollen pussy, the sound wet and harsh.

“Don’t you want my cock too?” Y/n questioned and the girl opened her eyes, looking at Y/n who was using her black sweatshirt to wipe at her chin and mouth. It made her pussy clench at how it was missing Y/n.

“I do.” She dragged out and pulled herself up, her hands grasping at Y/n’s sweatshirt and pulling it up. The latter helped her by fully pulling it over her head and discarding it to the floor with kittenish hands pawing at her slim stomach before they dropped to her pants. Although Jennie didn’t pull them down, she instead moved onto her knees. “Hurry up, my pussy is waiting for your cum, baby.” She purred out while turning around and getting on all fours, showing off her ass and dripping pussy while looking over her shoulder at Y/n. Her ass pushed out for Y/n as she arched her back to further the invite.

“You’re so bad.” Y/n groaned and fully undid her pants, letting them pool around her ankles before she kicked them to the side with her boxers. Jennie bit her lower lip, eyeing the thick and long member, the tip bulbous and red, leaking with precum, the long vein dragged on the underside and Y/n’s slim and veiny hand came over to it. She stroked herself, her other hand caressing the plump outline of Jennie’s ass who only pushed more into her.

“Such a bad girl after not getting my attitude fucked out of me…I get so mean when I don’t have your cum stuffing my pussy.” Jennie agreed, drawing her words out while lowering herself until her chest pressed against the mattress.

“I need–” Jennie stopped Y/n who was about to get to the bedside drawer where she knew condoms were. They always hit it raw, but she wasn’t sure if Jennie had continued with her birth control after four months of being alone.

“No condom,” it wasn’t an ask, but more so a demand. Y/n didn’t mind condoms while Jennie hated them.

“You’re on birth control,” Y/n concluded and went right back to place, guiding her tip between Jennie’s folds who let her head drop at the feeling that sent shivers through her spine.

She bit her lower lip, forcing the smile to not get too big as she couldn’t wait longer as she confirmed Y/n’s conclusion. “Yes.” A sigh followed when the stretch came, Y/n’s tip pushing inside her, spreading her open, splitting her folds and disappearing into her sopping and snug heat. It was squeezing her cock as a moan slipped from her mouth. The warmth of Jennie was so familiar, it was leaving her cock to throb the further she slipped inside the confines of her pink cunt.

The brunette whined, her insides twisting at how good it felt, the cock too big for her smaller body as it was always a tight fit and a big stretch for her to take the girl behind her. Y/n stopped as her pelvis met Jennie’s ass, filling her to the hilt with her hands gripping Jennie’s hips. Her lips parted at the feeling as she stalled any movement and got lost for a second in just the feeling of having Jennie around her.

However, Jennie wasn’t nearly as patient. “Are you going to fuck me or act like a virgin who wet their dick for the first time?” It brought Y/n right out of her drowning thoughts at the rude tone of Jennie who sounded annoyed.

“What?” She breathed out.

“Fuck me or I will find someone else to do it.” Jennie loved digging her own grave. At least she got buried with her back being blown.

“Who else will fuck you this good?” Y/n didn’t wait for an answer as she pulled out almost fully before Jennie was sent flying forward when she slammed her hips back against hers. It drew gasps and moans from Jennie as Y/n proceeded with the deep and hard thrusts. The thick cock dragged along her tight walls, and the wet and squelching noises got louder as Jennie's pussy was a mess. Y/n’s pelvis slapped against Jennie’s ass and started to fill in with moans, groans, whimpers, and gasps. All occupying the room.

Jennie bunched up the sheets in her fists, her face buried in them. She could feel the curved tip abusing her g-spot as it continuously dragged along the soft and spongy spot in her. The cock was hitting deep in her, filling her and hitting the right spots that she wasn’t even able to hit when fucking herself with all kinds of toys.

Her moans were erotic, they fueled Y/n on who was going carnal as Jennie’s pussy, body, voice, and everything else always had that effect. The brunette's hips started to meet Y/n’s thrust, clenching and helping her drag her cock in her pussy.

“Fuck, your cock is so big, it hurts so good.” Jennie moaned as the pain always mixed with the pleasure.

Y/n huffed, biting her lower lip as she moved one hand and landed its palm against Jennie’s ass since the girl was pushing it out for her so much. It was followed by a mewl from the birthday girl.

“Are you going to take all my cum?” Y/n groaned out, the answer taking a second too long and earning Jennie’s bright red ass cheek another spank. The heat only shot right to her clit and she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it as she loved every second of it. “Everything, I’m going to keep it all inside and be a mommy,” Jennie whined, the words only made her clench more as her own words fueled her.

“You look so good with cock in you, your slutty pussy takes it so well.” Y/n complimented, her eyes falling on where her hard cock was disappearing. The wetness was running down Jennie’s thighs, and her pink folds spread because of the cock that was drilling into her cunt which was growing sore. She was sucking Y/n in, doing everything to milk her and get her cum as she forgot about wanting to orgasm. All she wanted was to be creampied and keep it all inside for as long as possible because it made her feel full.

“Only you can play with it so well, fuck it until it hurts–your cocksleeve, for you to warm in and empty into.”

“You love being used.” Y/n threw her head back, her fingers digging into the flesh of Jennie’s ass and hips. The thrusts were hard, the bed squeaking with every stroke inside the snug sleeve that Jennie was for her cock. The smaller girl moved with each thrust that was throwing her forward, making her grip harder to stay in place.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Jennie spewed out, the tension in her stomach started to grow and Y/n could feel how much tighter her walls started to get around her. Her hand dropped from Jennie’s ass and went right under her, pushing onto her lower belly, able to feel herself bulge the small brunette's stomach. It was making Jennie dizzy, the pressure grew and she was getting sent right back into floating.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come so hard around your cock, Y/n.” Jennie cried out, writhing in the sheets as she pulled on them with her hands. Her jaw fell slack, the moans going up in pitch and the heat flashed over her, the cries slowly coming in breathless as the control was lost and she couldn’t tell what was going on.

Y/n continued to pound her, the tension slowly easing from Jennie, although her mind remained clouded. Her body was warm and covered in a sheet of sweat. “I’m so close.” Y/n groaned, her tip twitching.

Jennie could feel the cock grow harder in her. “Fuck, breed my cunt, Y/n–shoot it into my womb.” She intentionally clenched her walls and Y/n’s hips stuttered, Jennie, pushing her ass flush against her to get it all shot deep in her. It filled her even more, Y/n and Jennie both moaning. Rope after rope of thick and creamy cum painted her walls white, making her hum at how good it felt to be filled so well again.

“So good,” Y/n mumbled, her body collapsing onto Jennie’s who slumped down on her stomach. Her chest heaved as she peppered kisses along Jennie’s warm shoulder. The kitten hid her face in the sheets, the cock growing limp in her throbbing cunt as she tried to get back on a normal breathing pattern.

“Happy birthday, Jennie.” She let out a breathless chuckle and Y/n slowly pushed herself up.

“It’s not my birthday anymore.” The brunette mumbled, turning onto her back and raising her knees, trying her best to keep the cum within her walls. Her soft eyes fell onto Y/n, dreading it as she was scared that she would leave. The night was over, and so was her birthday.

“It’s the 16th until you go to sleep.” Y/n reminded her and she smiled, biting her lower lip while Y/n reached for her boxers, pulling them back on.

“Y/n…” The latter looked up at Jennie who was already looking at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Please don’t leave.” She mumbled.

“Jennie–” She cut Y/n off right away.

“Please, even if it’s just for the night.” She begged and Y/n chuckled

“Why on earth would I leave?” She questioned, baffled that Jennie thought she would just leave her, especially after having sex. Maybe they said it during sex, but she would never just use Jennie and leave her behind after.

Jennie felt a weight fall off of her, there was a lightness in her chest. She at times hated how sensitive she was as her lower lip jutted out and her breathing picked up to hold her tears back. Y/n heaved a sigh and got on the bed, with ease she pulled Jennie’s limp body with her as she kicked the duvet down before pulling it over them. The girl hugged around Y/n’s slim waist, burying her face in her shoulder as she couldn’t help but cry.

“Will you leave tomorrow?” She asked through her tears. The younger clicked her tongue and ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair. The both of them drowned in the warmth they shared.

“Do you want me to?” She had a good feeling that Jennie did not want her to leave. She wouldn’t be crying otherwise. Y/n was right as Jennie shook her head, tightening her grip around her to make sure that she would stay. It made her pull her small body closer to her and she kissed the top of her head.

“If you want…” Y/n trailed off and Jennie lifted her head, her eyes exhausted and filled with tears. Y/n wiped her cheeks with the pad of her palm before she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I could stay forever.” She suggested and Jennie closed the little gap between them. This time the kiss was soft, neither of them wanting it to rush into anything else than the adoration and love they still and always would have for each other.

“Yes, please.” She mumbled and Y/n smiled against her lips, pecking them.

“I love you, Jennie.” To hear those words again healed all those empty and torn parts in her. They were eager to say them again and wanted to say them a million times more to make up for all the four months that they hadn't said them.

“I love you, Y/n…” She cleared her throat and looked down a little guiltily and Y/n hummed confused. Jennie mumbled something under her breath, her eyes avoiding Y/n’s as she lay in her arms.

“You have to stop mumbling.” Y/n seriously said as the guilty look on Jennie’s face was starting to worry her. She sighed at that and lastly spoke up.

“I’m not actually on any birth control,” Jennie admitted as she had lied. She didn’t care when she hadn’t been sure if Y/n would have stayed. If she had to force Y/n to get back together then she would do so by trapping her. It only made sense to try and get pregnant if she was ovulating and wanted nothing more than Y/n to stay and to have a baby with her.

“You’re evil,” Y/n whispered and Jennie gave her a haughty little smile, showing that she wasn’t as guilty as she pretended to be.

“I don’t care, I only want you.” She pecked Y/n’s lips before she laid her head on her shoulder, nuzzling her face in her neck, drowning in the comforting scent of home that Y/n was to her.

“I only want you too, Jen.” She couldn’t find it in herself to be angry with the kitten. Y/n loved her too much and neither would she mind having kids with her. All she did was pull her closer and hug her, holding her in a way that would lull Jennie right to sleep and at last let her wake up well-rested after so many bad nights of sleep and crying.

“Start preparing to be a parent and do not forget the ring before I get pregnant.” Jennie pointed out and lifted her left hand, showing the empty fingers to Y/n who leaned in and pecked her ring finger. She giggled when Y/n gently bit it and she quickly hid it after.

“Don’t worry about any of it, I still want to marry you and have a family.”

Jennie’s wish did come true once again.

#blackpink smut #jennie smut #jennie x reader #smut #jennie x g!p reader #girl group smut #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut with plot #Spotify

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bbydoll18xx · 8 months ago

Text

An Inch Away From More Than Just Friends

Paige Bueckers x reader

Your ex-boyfriend is quite literally the smallest man who ever lived, and Paige is there to pick up the pieces

Themes: Heavy smut, angst, happy ending <3, friends to lovers

Word count: 3k

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“And you deserve prison, BUT. YOU. WON’T. GET. TIME!” you scream-sing, each word punctuated with a hand slapping the table loudly. Tears fall down your face and you let out a ragged breath, attempting to quell your rage and anguish.

Your stupid ass, idiot of a boyfriend, Connor, had cheated on you with some tramp from Florida, of all places. And he had subsequently dumped you over text, attaching a picture of the girl sucking his cock.

You wanted to murder him. Slowly. With a knife.

Here you sat, though, after the shock of that text message wore off, sobbing at your kitchen table to Taylor Swift. Your life felt like a terrible sitcom.

He was your first boyfriend. You didn't really date much in high school. The boys were immature and gross, and the girls were too intimidating to approach in a flirty way. You just wanted to feel wanted, sick of constantly being the third wheel with your friends.

Despite getting broken up with out of the blue, you knew why Connor had done it. It was the reason for your countless arguments you had suffered through the last year.

Paige Bueckers.

Paige was your best friend, and Connor had absolutely loathed her from the moment you had introduced the two blondes.

Your boyfriend had always been slightly possessive; it was one of the things that had initially attracted you to him. You had always craved an intense and all consuming love, and at first, you had thought you'd gotten that. But fate was tempted as you and Paige grew closer.

As the song you’ve had on repeat restarts for the hundredth time, you recall your last argument. It wasn’t difficult considering it happened just a few days ago.

You and Paige were hanging out in your apartment like you did frequently. Laying side by side on your bed, a movie played on the TV, sending flickering lights through the dark room. You were both exhausted from the week, but each other’s presence produced a calm energy that washed over all of the stress you had been feeling.

Your legs are tangled up with Paige’s, and your head is nestled in the crook of her neck. The movie is long forgotten, as you relish in the presence of your best friend. She hums in content at your closeness, enjoying your company just as much as you.

You can actually feel your heart cry, realizing that you couldn’t get any closer to the blonde girl.

You had been having several realizations the last few months: Your fondness for UConn’s favorite star was more than just friendly. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure that Connor had also picked up on this. And if this helpless little crush of yours continued, you’d be in deep shit.

Contemplating your situation, Paige nudges into you, catching your attention.

“I can literally hear the wheels in your head turning. Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” Paige teases softly.

Baby.

Your heart flutters, as it always did when she called you little pet names.

You shrug, the movement slightly jostling Paige.

“Just dealing with some stuff,” you mumble, a feeble attempt to minimize what you were feeling. It's not like you could tell her anyway.

Before Paige can goad you into revealing more, the door to your bedroom is ripped open, hitting the wall with a slam and reverberating through the apartment.

“I fucking knew it!” Connor shouted, pointing at you and Paige. His face was screwed up into an ugly expression of contempt.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Paige yells back, as you simultaneously shout, “Connor you can't just barge in here. That’s so fucking rude.”

“Stay away from my girlfriend, you nasty, little bitch,” Connor sneers meanly. Paige’s eyebrows furrow at this, standing in front of him to look him in the eye.

You try to stifle a laugh as Paige gets in your boyfriend’s face; she was two inches taller than him, and she never let him forget it.

“I don’t know about ‘little,’” she retorts with a smug expression on her face.

Enraged, Connor spins around, stomping out of the room, kicking your couch on his childish rampage out.

Your breathing is irregular as you try to slow your heart rate. Sobs are already bubbling up inside your chest, threatening to seep through the cracks that Connor had left once more.

Paige pulls you into her lap, cradling you against her chest in a desperate attempt to comfort you. Little did she know, her touch was all you really needed.

You are pulled back into the present, feeling empty without Paige. Tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You felt like you were never really present anymore; walking through life in a daydream. Pictures of Paige constantly filled your brain, and you knew the unrequited feelings would be much more painful than the harsh termination of your and Connor’s relationship.

Fuck. You were down bad.

You take to your couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Those were two guys you knew would never fail you. You allow yourself to rot the day away. Episode after episode plays, but you are barely paying attention. You feel like screaming, the feeling of desperation wrestling with your typical sense of composure.

Your vision slides over to the top of your fridge, where an impressive amount of alcohol sits.

‘Perfect. I can't pine when I’m black out drunk,’ you think miserably.

You were so, so wrong.

An hour later you were dancing around in nothing but one of Paige’s shirts and your underwear, using a large bottle of tequila as a microphone. You were usually a quiet roommate, but the empty apartment was the perfect excuse to let out all the emotions you had been holding in for months.

You were so engrossed in your performance, you miss Paige walking in. When you finally turn to face her in a dramatic spin, hair flying everywhere, you gasp in shock.

Paige is grinning. “Havin’ fun, babe?” she questions, clearly amused by your drunken antics.

You were too inebriated to feel embarrassed, and you nod with a bright smile. You thrust the bottle towards the blonde, encouraging her to join in your fun.

“Oh, what the hell,” Paige concedes, taking the bottle and lifting it up to her mouth in a way that had you suddenly feeling sticky.

She was sinful when she was drunk. It was not your fault that you wanted the clingy Paige that accompanied large amounts of alcohol.

You spend the next hour taking turns sipping from the bottle, enjoying the feverish burning in your belly that follows each swallow. It doesn’t take much time for Paige to catch up to you, and you know she’s tipsy once she pulls you into her lap and starts drawing shapes onto your thighs. A quiet moan escapes from your lips at her touch; her fingers were fucking magic.

You turn to face Paige, straddling her on your couch. The tequila in your system was making you bolder than the blonde was accustomed to you being, but she welcomed it. Now face to face, with nothing but your flimsy panties in between Paige’s muscular leg and your slick center, you gaze at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She was so pretty, and her eye contact made you bashful. Breaking away from the heat of those blue eyes, you wrap your arms around her neck in a huge hug, causing Paige to let out a small chuckle at your affection.

You were nothing if not candor whilst drunk, so Paige is hardly surprised when you slur, “Connor hated how I look at you. That’s why he broke up with me.”

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Paige murmurs, “How do you look at me?”

“Like you hung the fuckin’ moon,” you sigh dreamily, the tequila making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Oh, really, baby?” Paige questions, her voice growing deeper as you tilt your hips against her thigh once more in an attempt to feel some relief. Her presence was overwhelming your senses, and there was fire deep in your abdomen that was raging.

You forget to respond to her, too distracted from the way her leg felt so damn good against your clothed pussy. Attempting to lessen some of the desire building up inside you, you experimentally roll your hips, letting out a lustful whine as you realize how good it feels.

Paige is momentarily stunned at your boldness before she grabs your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes that were full of want. Your pupils are blown, the irises just a small ring at this point, and she questions if you really want to do this.

Well obviously.

You nod your head, unsure if you had any words in you to describe just how badly you wanted Paige to fuck you.

“Baby, use your words,” Paige drawls. The huskiness of the term of endearment has you panting, and you struggle to moan out a “Yes, please just fuck me, P.”

That was all Paige needed. She places her hands underneath your ass, and lifts you up, carrying you towards your bedroom. You wrap your legs around her toned figure and meet her lips in a searing kiss.

In a second, it feels like all the shittiness has evaporated away, leaving you feeling reborn and renewed. Paige was a fucking drug to you, and you needed another hit.

Setting you down on your bed, Paige wastes no time stripping you of your oversized t-shirt, leaving you in your cotton panties that were now completely soaked. She swirls two fingers across the drenched fabric, smirking to herself that she was able to have such an effect on you. You whine at her deliberate actions and pout like a child who wasn’t getting their way. Paige laughs at your desperation and kisses the pout right off of your lips, licking into your mouth with fervor.

You tug at her shirt, wanting her to be as bare as you were, and she quickly slips it over her head, throwing it onto the floor. There was still an imbalance of clothing between the two of you, and you finger the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants, wanting to see every bit of her.

Shaking her head fondly at your blatant lack of shame, she gets off of the bed and shimmies out of her pants, leaving her in just a sports bra and those boxers you loved a little too much. From where you were still sitting on the bed, you shamelessly let your eyes rake over her toned figure. She was stunning, and you felt pride well up inside you, knowing you were finally going to have sex with the tall blonde.

It almost made the years of pining worth it.

“This better?” Paige asks, gesturing towards her body, and you giggle in response.

She climbs back onto the bed, a knee placed between your parted thighs and presses it against your soaked heat. You let out another loud moan at the contact, and your back arches off the bed from the pleasure.

There are no thoughts in your tipsy, drunk-in-love brain, and it shows. You’re mumbling in tangents, now, pleading with Paige to do more.

She finally concedes and goes to take off your panties. She’s being a little tease, slowly dragging them down your legs, while keeping intense eye contact with you. You are pretty sure the act makes your pussy drip even more.

Placing a leg over her shoulder, Paige opens you up and takes a second to admire the gleaming wet folds that were hers and only hers. You tremble under her stare, feeling deliciously vulnerable in a way that makes you want to submit to her every whim.

She inches closer to your pussy, pressing hot kisses all along your inner thighs. You revel in the buildup of it, trying to avoid being pushy. To no avail, your hips jut forward, slightly humping the air in an attempt to get some release.

Coming back up to nip your earlobe playfully, Paige whispers sensually, “Gotta be a good girl for me.”

You try to respond, but her use of the phrase ‘good girl’ makes the words catch in your throat. She resumes her kisses, trailing them down your throat to your chest, where she takes a detour in favor of showing your pretty, peaked nipples some attention.

Another whine leaves your lips like a prayer, as Paige leaves love bites over your tits. That would look like a damn masterpiece in the morning, and you’re already planning to take a Polaroid picture of you topless, covered in Paige’s hickeys.

Finally, she trails back down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin and leaving behind thousands of goosebumps in their wake. Your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Please, Paigey. Need you, baby,” you whimper brokenly, begging for some respite from the torturous teasing.

Paige gives in, dying to taste to you, and she licks a fat stripe on your pussy, starting at your dripping hole and ending in a tantalizing circle at your clit. Your hands fly to her head, trying not to pull at her hair too much.

She inserts her middle finger into you, drawing another slutty moan from your lips as she pumps into you vigorously.

There really is no way to describe just how good she is making you feel. The past six months of sex with Connor had been passionless and repetitive. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go without this again.

Paige inserts another finger in your pussy with a smirk and continues to pummel them against your g-spot. The pressure in the pit of your belly was already building, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you exploded. Paige had taken a break from eating you out to kiss you once more, wanting you to taste your sweet wetness on her lips. It was possibly the hottest thing you had ever done, and the act pushes you closer to the finish line.

“Gonna cum, Paigey,” you moan wantonly, your thighs twitching and your back arching once more. The tequila in your system causing you to act especially debauched.

Paige loves it.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me,” she moans in response against your soaked pussy, and you fall apart instantaneously.

High pitched whines and moans fill your bedroom as Paige continues thrusting her fingers in and out of you, slowing down as you ride out your high. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you would be embarrassed with yourself, but there was no thought of that.

You needed to taste Paige.

Once Paige pulls out of you, licking her fingers off as if she was starved, you reattach your lips feverishly. You taste so good, but you are dying to know what she tastes like, and without warning, you strip the rest of her clothes off.

She lays her head on your mountain of pillows, blonde hair fanning in all directions. You can see the heaving of her chest, already anticipating your touch. Her lips are swollen in a way that’s positively sinful, and you think you’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as Paige does right now.

Straddling her, you lean in to suck at the soft skin underneath her left ear, pulling out moan after moan that went right to your still-buzzing pussy.

Trailing down to her tits, you knead one before attaching your hot mouth to the other, swirling your tongue around it and then nipping it experimentally.

“Fuck, babe. Please. Can’t do more teasing,” Paige grits out, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

Just as yours had, Paige’s hips squirm, and you grin up at her. You press kisses across her toned abdomen, mentally noting that her abs would be nice to ride another time, and finally settle at the opening of her legs.

Spreading her open, you gaze upon her glistening wetness momentarily before diving in. You could not possibly wait another second to taste her.

You two both moan at the contact, sending muffled vibrations against Paige’s pussy that brings forth a second, louder groan of pleasure.

Wanting to make her feel so, so good, you plunge two fingers into her sopping wetness, while flicking the tip of your tongue across her clit repeatedly without ceasing.

It had been awhile since you had eaten another girl out, but it came back to you immediately; it was like riding a bike.

Paige’s moans fill the room, and you think you could die there happily. You’re unrelenting. The combination of three of your fingers and that lavicious tongue of yours soon has Paige panting out, “fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

She rides out her orgasm, switching between moaning your name and naughty words that have you immediately wanting to do a second round.

You pull your fingers out of her wetness, making a show of licking them off in front of her before meeting her in an erotic kiss.

You lay back on your pillows, stifling your sighs and calming the beat of your heart from what you had just done with your best friend. You look over at her, hoping and praying that the sex you just had wouldn’t ruin your friendship.

Paige bites her lip, in a not so great attempt at hiding a smile, and pecks you on the lips. “That was way better than that fuckhead, Connor, right?” She was smug as hell. But she was not wrong.

“Considering his dick was three inches, uh yeah,” you laugh. “But joking aside, you were amazing.”

“Just glad I could make my girl feel better,” she replies.

“I’m your girl?” you ask, cheeks ablaze in a fiery heat of desire.

“You are now,” Paige chuckles, interlocking your pinkies together in an earnest proclamation of affection.

You were hers, and she was yours.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige #friends to lovers #angst #smut #wlw #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers smut

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desi2go · 8 months ago

Text

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year ago

Text

secret - jeonghan & seungcheol (m)

summary: new boyfriend!jeonghan & ex!seungcheol. your relationship with jeonghan is still new, and your breakup with cheol is still fresh. the three of you used to be close, but time, new jobs, and moving to different countries pulled you apart. now jeonghan is back home, filthy rich and very single. so are you. after some fun at a party, you start dating jeonghan seriously. will cheol’s return send you back into his arms, or will you stand by your man? or, perhaps, a mysterious third thing will happen instead :)

word count: 27k (don’t look at me)

warnings: afab reader. eventual threesome. lots of sex. lots of cum, creampie, cum mixing, cum eating? oral (m and f receiving). bondage. use of the color system. use of a vibrator in public. fingering. car sex kinda. some ass slapping? use of the word slut.

masterlist

waking up at jeonghan’s was still a new experience for you. it’d been a few weeks since he asked you to move in with him, but it amazed you that you could open your eyes to an angel laying right next to you. today is no different. you rolled over after the first signs of morning woke you up, and you see jeonghan asleep with his hair slightly in his face, lips pouted in a silent snore. you brush the strands away from his eyes, and he lets out a noise between a hum and a groan.

“i’m sleeping,” he tells you.

“you’re doing a great job.”

“go back to sleep.”

“can’t, i’m bored now.”

“you’re insatiable,” he scolds, eyes snapping open because he knows what ‘bored’ really means. you spend the rest of the morning tangled in his sheets. er, your sheets. you live here now. jeonghan’s your boyfriend. isn’t that wild?

your relationship with jeonghan started because you were both bored. casual friends since college, you’ve known each other for years and never really knew each other. you weren’t confident you knew his last name until you heard it at graduation. after you graduated, you didn’t hear from him much, but that was more your fault than anything else. you broke his best friend’s heart. you were public enemy number one, until you weren’t anymore.

you and seungcheol dated all through college. you fell in love fast, something so sickly sweet it made people around you gag, and a little jealous. let’s be clear though: jeonghan wasn’t one of those people. when you were with cheol, you were 100% his, and jeonghan respected that more than anything else. he was a good friend to cheol, and by proxy a good friend to you. nothing more. until he wasn’t anymore.

your break up with cheol was messy. graduation took you both in different directions, and egos made it impossible for you to find a compromise. deep down, neither of you wanted to break up, you knew it was just the circumstances tearing you apart. but you chose your career and so did he, a stab to the chest that was self inflicted on both sides. when cheol chose his career, he also inadvertently chose jeonghan. they got jobs at the same great company abroad, and their twenty something brains couldn’t comprehend just how much fun they could get into as two handsome men with a lot of money.

you’re doing well for yourself too, thanks for asking. not as filthy rich as the boys, but you were living comfortably. you kept in touch with a good chunk of your college friends, catching the way they tried not to gossip too much about seungcheol’s shenanigans overseas when you were in earshot. that’s how you heard jeonghan was in town a few months ago. he was going to a party that night, and just as the idea pops into your head your friend turns to you and asks if you want to go.

the party, it turns out, was boring. the people there were also boring. what was exhilarating as hell was catching jeonghan’s gaze on you when you both knew it shouldn’t be. he’d play coy, turning away for at least a second before finding you again. finally tired of the conversation you can’t seem to escape, you keep staring back at jeonghan until he decides to come over and say hi.

“y/n,” he smiles that cheshire cat grin at you, pulling you in for a polite hug. “it’s been so long.”

“i know,” you agree, a similar smile plastered on your own face. “i see you haven’t cut your hair since you left?”

“what, you don’t like it?” he laughs, shaking his long locks out so that his bangs fall slightly into his eyes. he looks good, you find yourself thinking. he took the black tie memo on the invitation seriously, wearing a suit so stunningly fit to his body you know it must be custom.

“no, i like it,” you nod. “it’s a little douchey for a business man, but you make it work.”

“i thought being a douche was part of the job though?” he asks, and it’s your turn to laugh. jeonghan takes a sip of his drink, surveying the room before he turns back to you, “nice party.”

“sure,” you nod. “a little boring though.”

“stuffy too,” he tries, eyeing you carefully. “you wanna join me on the balcony?”

you knew going out there with jeonghan was a bad idea. you knew you shouldn’t be talking to him. you knew a lot of things were wrong with this scene, but too much of you wanted to see where it would go. turns out, it would go downhill pretty quickly.

you joined jeonghan outside, letting the cool air brush off your nerves. you look at jeonghan and find him staring at you again, so you ask, “is my makeup smudged or something? you keep looking at me.”

“i can’t admire beautiful things?”

“nice,” you chuckle, looking down at your shoes next to his. “did you want to say anything special? or are we really just out here to breathe some air that doesn’t smell like chanel no.5?”

“it’s been a long time,” jeonghan says again, and you nod. “are you seeing anybody right now, y/n?”

“hah, no,” you shake your head. “kind of on a break from men, if i’m honest. i started attracting too many weirdos not worth my time.”

“shame,” jeonghan tsks. “must have been hard for you.”

“yeah,” you agree, finding his eyes again, “boring too.”

“are you bored right now?” jeonghan asks. “because i’m pretty good at killing time.”

“are you?” you challenge, and jeonghan hums. you feel a smile breaking across your face, your stomach doing flips as you say, “prove it then.”

that was about six months ago. if the owner of that venue’s asking, no you didn’t fuck jeonghan out on the balcony that night. anyone else asks and the answer would be yes, but you’d say it with a touch more dignity. you don’t know what attracted you to him so much that you had to have him right there. maybe you had been on your strike for too long, and you were just horny. or maybe it was the idea of something familiar. something safe. close to home. close to-

you’re ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of jeonghan calling your name. he had started a shower for himself before work, and now he’s all but begging you to come join him. why else would he have two shower heads, if not for you to spend some quiet time with your boyfriend who wants to dote on you before you start your day. or maybe he has them so it was less obvious to the builder that he wanted a shower he could have copious amounts of sex in. really, his obsession with shower sex probably needed to be analyzed by somebody, but he swears he likes it for ease (already naked) and just one personal reason (soapy boobs).

the past six months have been...interesting to say the least. you really care for jeonghan, you do. you always have. but getting to know him in this new sense was different. every day was a surprise with him. part of that was due to his job, a not-so-9-to-5 that he ditched his crazy life in europe for so he could be closer to family. he left a life of beautiful food, beautiful places, and seungcheol behind for a better opportunity. maybe that’s what bonded you so quickly. despite not really wanting to, you’d both abandoned seungcheol without meaning to.

you don’t talk about him much, only getting an update from jeonghan every so often when cheol deigns to text him back. they still work for the same parent company, so sometimes their paths cross in meetings or cheol has to call to confirm numbers with jeonghan’s new domestic team. other than that, there’s nothing to say. you’ve moved on (mostly) so you assume he has too. and now that you have jeonghan, you don’t have to worry about your feelings for cheol anymore.

jeonghan asked you to move in with him mostly because he was bored. he had just renovated this huge penthouse, and after throwing a couple rager parties there he realized it was too lonely when everyone left and it was just him there, alone. you’d been trying to make a career change, so he convinced you by promising you could stay rent free and save up for when you get a new job and most likely take a pay cut. plus, he doesn’t worry about rent here either. he paid for it upfront, in cash.

once you saw the penthouse, you knew you had to say yes. it was a dream, but what sold you was the view. standing at the floor to ceiling window, jeonghan’s hands around your waist, was the first time you’d felt something stir so deep in your heart for years. you haven’t said i love you yet to jeonghan, but then again neither has he. you know you care for each other through your actions. there’s love there, even if it’s unspoken right now. that’s part of what makes dating jeonghan so thrilling. you never know what he’s going to do next, a scheming smile on his lips and an exciting adventure planned for you no matter how big or how small.

jeonghan is pretty adventurous, to say the least. he likes taking you to new restaurants where you’re not really sure what you’re eating. he loves whisking you away for weekend trips to places neither of you have ever been. his favorite though is bending you to his will, pushing you farther than you’ve been pushed before, just to see what it would take to make you crack.

the sex with jeonghan is phenomenal. another aspect of your relationship where you never know what to expect. he likes to keep you guessing and gasping his name out in cracked moans. you started talking about things to do for his birthday, and when you asked what he wanted his only response was “you.” to some people that would be romantic, but you know it’s a challenge. it sent a shiver down your spine, much like his gaze whenever you catch his eyes at an event or get a random text throughout the day. you know when he’s bored it really means something else, so it’s become a code word of sorts. at tiring work parties or other obligations he wants out of, all he needs to do is look at you and yawn and you know to meet him in the closest secluded corner for a quick fuck. if he texts you that he’s bringing you lunch at work, you go ahead and tell your coworkers you’re taking the full hour, because you’ll need time to catch your breath and redress once he’s done with you.

today is one of those days, despite jeonghan’s best efforts earlier. you had a shitty morning after jeonghan left for work, almost forgetting your lunch, missing your train, all to come in and find out your biggest project to date is completely changing course. you were so frustrated you could cry, and when you texted jeonghan that you made it to work safely he knew something was off. he didn’t press though, knowing you well enough that asking what’s wrong instead of waiting for you to tell him will just start the waterworks early. instead he keeps his phone unlocked on his desk, completely ignoring whatever his assistant seungkwan is rambling about.

“we need you to sign off on this, jeonghan,” seungkwan insists, pointing again to the document on jeonghan’s desk that he’s ignoring to watch your three dots appear and disappear again. he half asses his signature without reading the document, and seungkwan snatches it away from him. jeonghan will talk to him about that later. for now, he picks up his phone to read about your awful day and let’s out a quiet “aw baby” for you. as soon as seungkwan leaves there’s another knock at the door. jeonghan knows he’s getting into meeting after meeting now so he types out something sweet and encouraging before he puts his phone in his desk, standing to welcome whoever is on the other side of the door.

jeonghan’s message boosted your mood, slightly. he knew how to sweet talk you, promising a bath, wine, and your favorite movie tonight when you get home. it was enough hope to get you through the day. that and imagining a cartoon anvil falling on this man in your meeting who keeps mansplaining the platform that you built. you’ve almost had it when you notice the clock, and you tell the team everyone should break for lunch. you all but run back to your desk before anyone can stop you, and when you’ve barely sat down you get a text.

“coming for lunch,” jeonghan simply says, and your heart skips a beat. you contemplate eating quickly before he gets here, but he says he’s so close by that you don’t even have a chance. you dig for your food in the break room fridge, knowing you won’t get a chance to eat if jeonghan’s coming. at this point it’s mostly for show, because you can’t make it obvious that you’re leaving just to stress fuck your boyfriend. you tell your manager you’ll be taking the whole hour anyway, and then scurry outside just as jeonghan’s expensive car pulls up to your building. he slows the car to a stop in front of you, the window already down so he can call out, “hey sexy, you seen my girlfriend around here?”

“sorry mister, my mom told me not to talk to strangers,” you joke back, and your bad mood lifts when jeonghan laughs.

“get in baby,” he says, watching you intensely as you slide into the front seat. he frowns at the food in your lap, picking up the grocery bag you shoved your lunch into before you left. “what is this?”

“a picnic?”

“there are dinosaur nuggets in here,” he grumbles when he takes a peek. he looks up to you and asks, “you were gonna eat this for lunch?”

“yeah,” you shrug. “i didn’t have time for breakfast because someone took too long in the shower, so i had to pack something.”

“i didn’t even know we had these in the house,” jeonghan continues, looking at the chicken nuggets like he’s never seen something so foul. he carefully ties the bag and then tosses it into his backseat, much to your dismay. he looks at you with a cheeky smile, his hand squeezing your chin as he starts to maneuver the car out of the parking lot. “look back there baby, i picked up real food for you.”

“i don’t wanna eat yet,” you say shyly, but jeonghan doesn’t hear so you have to repeat yourself. “i don’t wanna eat yet. don’t need all that sloshing around when you fuck me in a minute.”

“oh i’m gonna fuck you huh? and what if i just wanted to share a meal with my beautiful girlfriend?” he asks in fake shock. you lean across the armrest to kiss his cheek as you reply, “then i’d ask who you are and what have you done with yoon jeonghan.”

‘good girl,” he chuckles, expertly pulling the car into a parking spot in the empty spots at the back of the parking lot down the street from your office. for your sanity and jeonghan’s reputation, you pray there aren’t security cameras over here.

“so how was your morning?” you play coy as you watch jeonghan turn the car off. something passes over his face as he responds, but it’s there so shortly you don’t know how to read it.

“fine,” he clears his throat. “lots of meetings. almost got in a bitch fight with seungkwan because he didn’t want me to leave, said i’d be late to my next meeting.”

“he knows you well.”

“yeah, whatever,” jeonghan says as he twists in his seat to look at you directly. his hand is back on your chin, lifting it up so he can trace your lips with his thumb as he asks, “what was so bad about your morning?”

as you explain your trials, jeonghan slowly moves his hand from your chin down to your neck, across your collarbone, and down to the hem of your shirt. he carefully untucks it from your slacks, listening intently as you speak while unbuttoning your blouse slowly. when you get to the part about the jerk who assumed you didn’t know anything, jeonghan’s hand was working it’s way past your panties, his fingers dipping down to your entrance. he interrupts you only to ask, “damn baby, you this wet for me?”

“i’ve been wet since you texted me,” you say like its obvious, and jeonghan smiles proudly as he tells you to go on. you start recounting your meeting from hell, voice shaky now as his fingers circle your entrance and collect your slick so he can move them up to your clit, rubbing gently without applying too much pressure. when you’re finally done speaking, jeonghan captures your lips in a kiss, pulling back only slightly so he can tell you, “i’m sorry baby. you know you could always come work with me, and then no one would treat you like anything less than a queen.” you sigh instead of responding because jeonghan’s slipped two fingers into you, your arousal providing enough glide that he didn’t have to work you open with just one. he hisses when he feels how warm you are, and jeonghan is reminded for the millionth time why he’d follow you to the ends of the earth and back. your eyes. your smile. the way you cuddle into his neck when you don’t want to get out of bed. and the glorious feeling of being inside you, whether it’s his fingers, his tongue, or his cock. he can’t get enough of you, and he knows you feel the same way because you’re already bucking your hips, begging him for more. he pretends not to hear you, just fucking his fingers into you slowly as he listens for the lewd squelch of your pussy around him.

“how’s it feel baby?” he asks quietly, and you whisper back that it feels good. “just good?”

“need more, hannie,” you whine, and he tuts.

“not yet,” he says as he checks the clock on the dashboard. “we’ve got time. you want another finger instead?”

“please,” you breathe out, and you watch him capture his tongue between his lips as he focuses on fucking you slowly. to fill the silence you ask quietly, “what did you bring for lunch?”

“i’m literally knuckles deep and you’d rather talk about the sandwich i bought you?” jeonghan laughs in disbelief. “i can’t believe you woman.”

“i told you, i didn’t eat this morning. i’m hungry.”

“need something in your mouth?” he asks, and as it so often is with jeonghan, you know this is a challenge. you think about what the right answer might be, and when you nod he lets a smile creep over his features as he says, “use your pretty little hands to get my cock out, then.”

you do as he says, gasping when you lean over to reach his crotch and feel jeonghan’s fingers slip deeper. with shaky hands you undo his belt, looking up to make sure jeonghan’s watching. his dark eyes glint at you from above, and you blow him a kiss before unbuttoning his pants to find he’s not wearing any underwear. you look back up and see his shit eating grin, shrugging as he says, “what? i was running late.”

“you’re a menace,” you hiss, his fingers scissoring inside you. he does this a few more times as you take his cock in your hand, and when you lick the tip he stills completely.

“don’t tease or i’ll stop right here,” he warns, so you get back to work, welcoming his cock past your lips and hollowing your cheeks so you can bob on his cock quickly. you’ve done this enough to know jeonghan wants something quick, messy, something that will make you embarrassed to face your coworkers after. you’re constantly shocked by his willpower though, moaning around him as his thumb finds your clit and starts drawing lazy circles. the vibrations of your moans shoot straight through jeonghan, but he shows no sign of mercy or that this is even affecting him at all.

you groan and bob your head faster, using the saliva pooling past your lips as lube to stroke the rest of his cock. you pull off of him to catch your breath, jeonghan whispering encouragement above you as his hand stills at your core. he only starts moving again when you lean down to kitten lick his balls, legs twitching ever so slightly at the contact. you’re happy to have some kind of reaction from him, your ego boosted enough that you take a few more playful licks before holding him by the base and tapping his cock over your lips and waiting tongue. he watches you amused, waiting for you to give in, and when he shoves yet another finger inside your pussy you moan so loud your eyes roll back slightly, and jeonghan admires the way a little bit of drool drips past your lips onto his seat. he swipes it up with his free hand and pops the finger in his mouth, winking at you as you watch.

you take him back into your mouth, ready to come and wanting to show him how good you can be, so you swallow around him until his cock is hitting the back of your throat and your nose is nestled against his lap, the smell of his expensive detergent drowning your senses. you’re brought back to visions of him fucking you senseless in his king bed, the sweet smell of fresh linen mingling with the scent of sex as jeonghan pulls orgasm after orgasm out of you. you shudder just at the memory, and he chuckles as he asks what you’re thinking about. you start to pull off of him to reply, but his hand stops you, chuckling as he says, “good girls don’t talk with their mouth full.”

you let him hold you down on his cock, giving up on sucking him off as you feel yourself get closer to release. jeonghan knows, so he holds you in place while he works you up to your orgasm, almost shrieking around his cock. you look up at him just as his eyes flutter, his hips sputtering as he starts to come. he keeps working you to your own high, and feeling jeonghan twitch as he comes down your throat sends you over the edge. his seat is almost ruined he thinks, seeing the way your release drips down his wrist. he groans as he watches you shake below him, always thinking you’re a work of art like this. he can’t help but admire it, and when he’s sure you’re done he moves his hand from the back of your head, reaching for your chin to carefully pull you off of him. you stick your tongue out for him to see that you swallowed it all, and he coos as he finally pulls his fingers from your core. he could be nice, he thinks, and just let you lick them clean, but instead he runs them across your face and watches as you lick at the arousal left behind. he swears he sees more drip out of you, and he has to look away or else you’ll never leave this car.

“you ok baby?” he asks as you try to clean yourself up and avoid the puddle you left in your seat.

“i’m great,” you say hoarsely, looking in the glovebox for napkins just to find a vibrator and handcuffs instead. you hold them up and jeonghan just smirks, saying, “i didn’t know what kinda mood you were in. i’m like a boy scout, gotta be prepared.”

“you don’t happen to have any of my makeup in this magic glovebox of yours do you?” you ask as you look at yourself in the rearview mirror, heart still racing from your high but somehow picking up speed when you see how fucked out you are and jeonghan barely did anything. he could drive you crazy, you think. when he softly pushes your arm off the center console to reveal everything you could possibly ever need (gum, jeonghan’s favorite lipstick on you, wipes, hand sanitizer, a pair of panties? and your favorite concealer and mascara) you think you could cry. this is what you mean when you say jeonghan loves you through his actions. he further drives that home as he reaches back for your lunch, mumbling to himself, “can’t believe she was gonna eat dino nuggets.”

when you come home that day, you’re giddy like a schoolgirl. because everything with jeonghan is still so new, sometimes it just hits you that you have a boyfriend. a boyfriend that you live with, and that always makes sure he’s home before you are so he can wrap you in a hug and kiss your forehead as soon as you get through the door. you’ve pavlov’d yourself into expecting this every time you get back from work, but today when you open the door and call out his name you’re met with silence. your eyes sweep across the living room and notice his briefcase tossed onto the couch, so you know he’s here somewhere. you head to the kitchen, stomach growling, and try to find a snack before you go searching for jeonghan.

as you’re cutting up a mango, you hear soft steps padding down the stairs and jeonghan’s hushed voice on the phone. you strain to hear what he’s saying, wondering if this is a work call or something else. maybe he’s booking a reservation he doesn’t want you to hear about, but too bad. you leave the kitchen with the plate of mango in your hands, quietly joining him on the couch as he gives you a strained smile. you smile back, kissing the corner of his mouth before holding up a piece of mango for him, humming contently when he takes it despite saying something to whoever’s on the other side of the phone. you’ve ascertained that he’s setting up a meeting, and while you usually don’t pay too much attention to the specifics of his job you can tell he’s being vague. you watch him a little longer, absentmindedly licking the mango juice off your fingers before whispering that you’re going to your room, and jeonghan nods at you before smacking your ass as you walk away. he chuckles quietly when you let out a squeal, but his heart drops to his ass when he registers what’s being said on the other line.

“what was that?” seungcheol asks, and jeonghan’s hand heats up where he just touched you. “you need me to let you go?”

“no, no, i was just getting my mail and bumped into my neighbor,” jeonghan lies easily, hoping cheol is gullible enough to buy it.

“big important guy like you i figure you’d have someone to do that for you,” cheol laughs, and jeonghan gives him a pity chuckle before bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“so when’s your flight?”

“end of this week,” seungcheol sighs. “i’m not ready to leave yet, man. i’m gonna miss how beautiful everything is here.”

“life on this side of the world isn’t too bad,” jeonghan tells him.

“yeah sure, with all the mail you’ve been getting i bet it’s nice,” cheol teases, and jeonghan should’ve known his friend would see through him quickly.

“whatever,” jeonghan laughs. “just let me know when you’re in town and we’ll get dinner before the meeting.”

“you’re a classy man, yoon jeonghan,” cheol says, and jeonghan’s throat constricts ever so slightly. if only his friend knew who was in his bed right now, maybe cheol wouldn’t be so kind.

jeonghan tiredly trudges upstairs, ears perking up at the sound of music coming from the bedroom. he cracks the door to see you leaning against the copious amount of pillows, scrolling through your phone as you snack on the mango at your side. you look up at the sound of the door, smiling softly at jeonghan. you’re about to beckon him over, but he takes a deep breath and says, “i’ve got to tell you something.”

“oh,” you breathe out, a little worried about what it could be. you pat the spot next to you regardless, and jeonghan perches on the bed cautiously, almost like he doesn’t want to be close to you when he says what he has to say. you’re nervous for a moment, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t what you expected. he’s not about to tell you he did something wrong, he’s about to tell you something he’s afraid of.

“seungcheol is coming back,” he starts, and before you can even react he says, “he can’t know about us.”

“he-what?” you ask, and jeonghan reaches for your hands as he settles on the bed, trying to bring you closer as he explains, “he’s coming back to work at my company. i didn’t hire him, i swear. we apparently acquired whatever business he was running, so now he’ll be managing it under me. he called to tell me the good news. he’s coming back this friday. and he can’t know that we’re together.”

“why not?”

“because it’s...weird,” jeonghan says nervously.

“what about us is weird, jeonghan?” you ask, and he can tell he messed up.

“no, baby, that’s not what i mean,” he tries to backtrack. “i just. for a little while. it might be best for you to...not come around so often?”

“what, so i just stop coming to your work parties?” you ask, and jeonghan closes his eyes as your frustrations rise. “can’t come visit you on my days off? and when you invite people out after work for drinks, i assume he’ll come with you. so i’m just supposed to sit at home all the time now?”

“honey, i’m sorry,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours and you can tell there’s a little bit of hurt there. “i just don’t know how we could explain this to him, and it’ll be hard enough getting him integrated into the company. i don’t want this to fail before it even starts, so, for now, he can’t know. but you’re still my number one, baby. i don’t know how you could ever think otherwise,” he says softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. you’re quiet as you think of how to respond, and you let jeonghan use his hand on your neck to guide you in for a tender kiss. against your lips he says, “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry,” you sigh, leaning back in to kiss him again. “i’m proud of you for acquiring his company, that’s big,” jeonghan nods, “and i agree, it’d be too weird to explain. honestly i don’t know that i want to see him at all. but this means i’ll see less of you,” you pout, and with jeonghan’s hand still on your neck you feel his grip tighten.

“impossible,” he whispers, pecking your lips quickly before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. “mm, you taste like mango.”

“yeah?”

“lemme taste something else,” he says with a smirk, and soon you’ve forgotten what he came in here to tell you in the first place.

a different version of you would’ve been upset that you could forget cheol so easily. for a long time, you thought he was the great love of your life. but if both of you would pick something else over each other so quickly, maybe your love wasn’t that great after all. you had settled into your life without seungcheol, so it makes sense that you forgot about his return so quickly.

for seungcheol though? he’s wondering if he should call you. at least let you know he’s gonna be back in town. he won’t say that he’s staying, he’ll open the conversation and see what you do with it. he just wants to see you, see how you’re doing. a selfish part of him wants you to see how well he’s doing too, and he thinks for a moment that he should get the gang back together and invite jeonghan. he decides against it only because he wants some time alone with you to apologize. if this goes well, then he can think about jeonghan coming along.

when cheol picks up his phone to call you, jeonghan is staring sappily into your eyes over dinner. you’ve had a rough week at work, so jeonghan insisted on comfort food at his favorite fancy place. he wanted to pamper you tonight, starting with giving you the shoes you’ve been salivating over for weeks now. he helped you get dressed and took his time kissing every inch of your skin that he could reach. now, over a plate of the most delicious pasta you’ve ever had, jeonghan is listening to you passionately talk about god knows what. he could listen to you talk like this for hours, but you stop mid-sentence and start looking for something.

“what’s wrong baby?” he asks, reluctantly letting your hand slip out of his so you can twist around in your chair.

“i’m looking for my phone, it’s ringing,” you mumble as you struggle to untangle your purse from the back of your chair.

“but baby,” he whines. “we’re on a date.”

“you know my mom usually calls me around this time,” you point out as you find your phone. “i at least need to check that it’s-”

“what?” jeonghan asks, noticing the confusion on your face. “not your mom?”

“no? it’s a weird number,” you say, showing him quickly. it looks familiar, and when jeonghan realizes why it’s too late. “hello?” you ask quietly, not wanting to be the annoying person on the phone in a public place, but curiosity got the best of you.

“y/n?” seungcheol asks, and your breath catches in your throat. “y/n? hello?”

“seungcheol, hi,” you respond, looking at jeonghan with your eyes wide. he sits back in his chair and groans, but the sound of the restaurant covers it up. “um, what’s up?”

“how are you?” cheol asks, and you give him a curt response. “listen, i can tell you’re out doing something, but i just wanted to let you know i’m coming back home. i mean, i’m leaving my job in europe and taking on a new role here. with jeonghan. kind of. it’s his company. whatever, i’m rambling, i just wanted to let you know-”

“hang up,” jeonghan mouths, and you shake your head, listening to cheol talk himself in circles a little more. jeonghan reaches across the table and tugs on your arm but you swat him away, whispering a fierce warning to stop.

“sorry, seungcheol, um, that sounds like a great opportunity,” you tell him once he’s finished up. “t-tell jeonghan i say hi. and good luck with everything, really.” you hate to rush him off the phone like this, but the way jeonghan is staring at you has your stomach doing flips. there’s no way cheol can be onto you so soon, but you tried your best to keep him off the scent. you just hope it works. “it was nice hearing from you, bye cheol!”

“yeah, sure,” he says suspiciously, looking at his phone to confirm that you did in fact hang up on him. your response was weird, awkward, which is understandable. but the weird part is that you completely ignored his invitation to meet for lunch. you sounded distracted, so maybe you didn’t hear him. maybe you didn’t want to see him at all. or maybe you were out with someone who wouldn’t like their girlfriend making plans with some random guy. whatever it is, cheol is onto you, but what keeps him content is that he knows your paths will cross again soon, planned or not.

jeonghan was quiet after you hung up, mostly playing with the food on his plate as you watched him. you tapped his foot with your own beneath the table, skirting it up toward his calf when he doesn’t respond. you feel a warm hand grab your ankle, and jeonghan’s eyes are staring at you sternly as he asks, “why did you answer it?”

“i was curious.”

“but i told you not to answer it. then i told you to hang up, and you didn’t listen.”

“it’s my phone?” you say incredulously. “i’ll answer it if i want to.”

“but it was seungcheol,” jeonghan says. “he could figure out what’s going on.”

“why are you so insistent on cheol not knowing about us?” you ask. “like, i get not wanting to hurt his feelings. but he’s not here right now, and you’re being kind of a dick.”

“baby, i’m sorry,” he sighs. “i’m just afraid of you getting hurt.”

“me?”

“you and cheol have a lot of history,” jeonghan says carefully. “i guess i was trying to protect you from being around him and, i don’t know, getting upset over what happened. that you’re not with him anymore.”

“how could i ever be upset when i have you taking care of me?” you ask softly, looking for jeonghan’s hand so you can squeeze it assuringly as you say, “baby, yes, cheol and i have history. but you’re my now and my future as long as you don’t break me during sex some day.”

“got it,” he finally laughs, taking a deep breath. “sorry for being weird about it.”

“it’s ok,” you tell him. “you being possessive like that was a little hot.”

“down girl,” he teases, squeezing your hand now. “we’ve got two more courses here before we can leave.”

“have i mentioned how much i love this food, by the way?” you ask, and that sends you both into an easy conversation about food and how you want to do a pasta making date night. jeonghan takes his phone out to make a reminder for himself to find the best class in the city, and he sees a message that makes his heart stop. it’s from seungcheol, short and sweet.

“we need to talk,” it says. jeonghan locks his phone then, putting on a smile to cover up the way he just started to sweat.

you and jeonghan enjoy a sweet weekend together, having two blessed days where you don’t go anywhere. saturday is spent mostly sleeping, only leaving your bed for necessities and to find another book when you finish your first one. as you’re scanning the bookshelves jeonghan put up in his room just for you, he admires the way his old dress shirt hangs off of you. he doesn’t know why you insist on sleeping in his old clothes, but it warms his heart nonetheless. he loves that you don’t wear much underneath, so it’s not hard for him to pull you in for a hug just for his hand to brush you in places that send goosebumps across your skin. he wants you to hurry up and pick a book so you’ll come back to bed, his hands itching to skirt across your waist and pull you into his chest.

he knows you’re both serious about each other. like you, he knows this is love without it being spoken. but he almost said it this morning, it almost slipped off his tongue as he woke up to the sound of clinking coffee mugs. he smiled sleepily at you as you placed his on his nightstand, grabbing your now free hand to kiss your palm and each of your fingertips. you claimed the warmth of the coffee in this heat is what caused your cheeks to flare up, but jeonghan knows better. he watched you proudly as you shuffled to your side of the bed, all of a sudden very happy that you’re here, his, and living in this space with him.

you take a delicate sip of your coffee before you crawl back under the covers, and jeonghan admires the way you relish the taste, eyes closing slightly and a content smile on your lips as you finally rejoin him in bed. you yelp as he pulls you closer, hooking an arm around you so that you’re laying against his chest with his lips at the crown of your head. he thinks about saying it then, those three words, but your polite “let go of me, you freak” shakes him out of his thoughts, chuckling as he loosens his grasp so you can grab your book and then lay back down in his arms. you hold the book so that he can read along with you if he wants, but he’s still tired, so instead he lets himself drift off as you speed through the pages.

when you finish your book, your first instinct is to get up and replace it on the shelf it came from. jeonghan always scolds you for keeping a messy nightstand, so you try to get in the habit of returning finished books as quickly as possible, but when you turn to look at the man in question you coo and decide that admiring your sleeping angel of a boyfriend is the better option. you reach out a hand to trace his eyebrows, down the soft slope of his nose, ending at his mouth. you press a kiss to your fingers and trace the outline of his lips, giggling when his top lip twitches at your touch. you love his lips, love the way they feel against your skin, the way they stretch across jeonghan’s perfect smile when he tells you something cheeky. you lose yourself for a moment as you play with them, maybe flicking your thumb over his plump bottom lip too hard because next thing you know there’s two strong arms holding you captive. jeonghan peeks an eye open at you, sheepish smile on your face as he asks, “what the hell are you doing?”

“playing with your lips,” you reply easily. “they’re my favorite toy.”

“oh these?” he asks, pouting his lips as he feigns going cross eyed to stare at them. he loves to make you laugh, the sound breaking him from his silly expression and into a fit of giggles similar to yours. you press your forehead to his as you calm down, your breaths mingling together as they steady out into the same inhales and exhales. “i really like waking up next to you,” jeonghan admits quietly. you look up to make sure he sees your eyes as you respond, “it’s kinda my favorite thing now, so i’m glad you like it. even when i have morning breath.”

“good thing you drink coffee like an addict,” jeonghan teases, tickling your nose with a strand of your hair. “because right now i’m just getting cafe bustelo and brown sugar.”

“mm,” you hum, “i want another coffee,” you say as you try to get up, but jeonghan’s vice grip stops you.

“kiss first,” he says sternly, and you feel your cheeks warm as you lean back down to press your lips into his. he deepens the kiss briefly, letting you pull away to say, “hm, you taste like brown sugar too.”

“and you taste like cinnamon,” you smile, loving that spending so much time with you has turned jeonghan onto your favorite coffee recipes. “now let me go and i’ll make you a new one.”

“fine,” he sighs dramatically. “but come back quick.”

“you’re clingy today,” you notice, and you look at him fully. “is everything ok?”

“yeah honey,” he smiles, but there’s a hesitation there. “i just..you know i’m yours right?”

“of course i do hannie,” you smile back, and he nods. “anything else?”

“if i’m yours, you know that means you’re mine,” he smirks, and you nod again. “no complaints?”

“hm, you could do laundry a little more often-” you start to joke, but a pillow comes flying for your head. with a laugh you reach out for jeonghan’s leg under the covers, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you ask, “are you sure everything’s good? this is weirding me out.”

“i’m good,” he shrugs. “wanted to be sure.”

you watch him closely, but you decide there’s nothing further to discuss. you reach for his coffee mug and he passes it to you, only jerking it back once or twice when you reach for it. once you start pouting he gives in, handing it over with ease. you’re gone and back within a few minutes, two new drinks in your hands, but jeonghan’s eyes are closed again so you place his drink down before kissing his forehead lightly. you put your drink down and finally return your book, looking for your next victim. when you lay back down you stick to your side of the bed, not wanting to bother jeonghan. you’re obviously unaware that he was watching you the entire time you searched for a new book, but once you’re settled with the amount of pillow to back ratio you hear him mumble something into the blankets. you lean closer and ask him to repeat, and you hear a soft, “will you read to me?”

he’s never asked you to do this before, and you’re not sure how romantic it will be to read a thriller novel to your boyfriend, but you do it anyway. something’s gotten into jeonghan, you’re not sure what, but something’s on his mind. you’ll let him come to you about it, but even as you read the book out loud you barely process the words. you’re just worried about the change in jeonghan over the past few days, and you think you know what, or who, the culprit is.

jeonghan had to welcome cheol into the office next week. he’s starting this week transitioning back to life at home, then he’s coming in closer to the weekend to finish up his paperwork. he starts next monday, and jeonghan has promised him dinner one night this week. he does this with any of his new employees, no matter their status. he takes them out for a meal, gets to know them, makes them feel welcome as part of the company, and everyone loves him for it. it’s why so many people fight to get the chance to work for him, and it’s also the reason why nobody wants to leave once they do. jeonghan takes care of his people. he defends them, wants the best for them, and can mediate any problem no matter how big or small. he’s the perfect boss, the perfect boyfriend, he’s just...perfect.

but lately, he’s been having doubts. he’s been doubting himself, his relationship with you. he won’t admit it, but he’s afraid of you seeing cheol after all this time and wanting to go back to him. he never understood how you two could split so easily, so his biggest fear is that whatever feelings may be laying dormant will come back with a vengeance the moment you and seungcheol are back in a room together. that’s why he tries to talk about him as little as possible despite being on the phone with him all the time. seungcheol is a hard worker, so he’s already got questions for jeonghan, clients to bring over, applicants to interview for his assistant. jeonghan admires the tenacity, but he’s walking on eggshells around you so the topic of cheol never comes up. that becomes nearly impossible when seungcheol reminds jeonghan of their promised meal together, and jeonghan tries to pick a night when he knows you’ll be tired and therefore fine with him going out.

he decides on tuesday night for dinner with cheol, and everything seems fine at first. you’ve got to go into the office early for a slew of back to back meetings, so you assure jeonghan you’ll be exhausted when you’re done. whatever “company thing” he has to do tonight can be done solo, and you tell him you’ll be expecting a kiss when he gets home, even if you’re asleep. he takes a slight breath of relief and promises he’ll be sweet to you when he gets back, pleased that it seems the topic he’s avoiding won’t have to come up at all.

tuesday comes, and you were fine with going home to no jeonghan, but as your day dragged on you realized there was no way you’ll be leaving on time. thing after thing keeps getting dumped on you until you’re on the verge of a freak out, and you text jeonghan to get some clarity. you tell him your day’s been awful, you’ll be home late, the usual, and he doesn’t respond. you’re so busy you don’t even have time to be upset about that, because as soon as you put your phone down you’re getting an email that almost makes you cry frustrated tears. you work on though, the only thing getting you through is the idea of falling into jeonghan’s arms as soon as you walk through the door.

jeonghan didn’t respond to you because seungcheol ended up coming into the office today, eager to set up his office and get straight to work next week. it was a surprise for sure, seeing his friend after so long, but thankfully they fell back into their usual rapport once the awkward pleasantries were over with. jeonghan had been busy helping seungcheol organize his desk, explaining some of the more important files that seungkwan had already placed in cheol’s office for him to review. jeonghan was trying to save some of the business talk for their dinner tonight, but they ended up having a working lunch instead, jeonghan divulging all of the things he’s needed his best friend for in their time apart.

“shit, is that the time?” cheol asks as he checks his watch. jeonghan looks at his phone then, seeing messages from you and wishing he could answer immediately. he’ll wait until he’s back in his office just to be safe. “i took up your whole day, i’m sorry.”

“no worries,” jeonghan waves him off. “it was nice catching up. it’s gonna be good having you here.”

“i’m really excited to get started,” cheol says.

“no shit, couldn’t tell,” jeonghan laughs. “but we’ve basically gone through everything i was planning to say at dinner. welcome to the team, this is the company culture, stay on top of your tasks, blah blah. come to me if you ever need anything, and uh, don’t drink the hazelnut coffee in the break room. it’s disgusting.”

“got it,” cheol nods. “i can’t believe i kept you here this long, if you need to leave, we can forget dinner.”

“no, i have time,” jeonghan thinks for a moment. “i should at least take you to this whiskey bar down the block, i think you’d like it. i do a lot of client meetings there.”

“sure, let’s go!”

the bar ended up being closed. who knew tuesday was a slow day for whiskey, because apparently it’s always closed on tuesdays and jeonghan had no clue. he feels bad that he’s not giving cheol the promised welcome meal or a nice drink on the company’s dime, so when seungcheol asks to see jeonghan’s place he has a hard time saying no.

“i’m sure you’ve got a great home bar,” cheol says, “and i’d love to see your place. if that’s ok, of course.”

“um, let me just-”

“check with your girlfriend first?” cheol asks, and jeonghan stops cold. he tries to play it off, shaking his head with an excuse on his lips, but when jeonghan looks up at him there’s a knowing look in his eyes. “you don’t have to hide it. i knew there was always a reason you sound distracted on the phone. just didn’t know sly yoon jeonghan could be held down by anybody.”

“haha, yeah, it’s a miracle,” jeonghan laughs nervously. “but, um, no, i don’t need to check with anybody. i was just. yeah, sure, yeah, we can have a drink at my place. but i need to make it quick, sorry,” he starts to lie, “my meeting with london tomorrow just got pushed to the ass crack of dawn, so it’ll be an early night for me.”

“just one drink,” cheol nods, clapping his hand on jeonghan’s back. “send me your address. you want me to bring flowers as a housewarming gift, or is that too much?”

when you’re finally leaving work, it’s about three hours later than normal. you took a break to eat dinner, so that added to your time, knowing that jeonghan would have a hissy fit if he knew you worked late and didn’t eat. your meal added on to your time, but it definitely didn’t diminish the amount of work you had to do. by the time you get back to your apartment, you’re tired, you’re frustrated, and those tears from earlier are creeping back again. you text jeonghan when you’re close by, and again when you get into the lobby and ask if he picked up the package that came. nothing all day, and now suddenly he can’t seem to respond quick enough.

“wait for me outside,” the text reads, which you think is odd, but whatever. you check the mailroom anyway, shuffling along on autopilot as jeonghan loses his mind upstairs.

why? because cheol is still here. jeonghan forgot how easy it was for drunk cheol to go off on tangents, and he’s in the middle of one now that doesn’t seem like it’ll slow down in time for jeonghan to shoo him out the door without running into you. he’s trying to run through each solution when he hears your key in the lock, stopping cheol mid-sentence so he can smirk and say, “guess the lady of the house is home?”

jeonghan shoots up to intercept you, trying to stop the door from pushing open too much to reveal you to cheol or vice versa. but he’s too late. he can tell by the shock in your eyes, followed quickly by tears. you duck back out into the hallway and he follows, closing the door behind him and praying to god that cheol stays put.

“baby, baby what’s wrong?” jeonghan asks, holding your hands to his chest as you try to calm down. your lip trembles as you explain, “i just had the worst day at work, i’m so tired of this job, i’m exhausted and frustrated and i wanted to come home to you and i was already about to cry but then he’s in there-wait, why is he in our house, hannie?” you ask, a bit of understandable anger in your voice. “i thought he couldn’t know about us,” you all but spit out, and jeonghan lets his head hang as he explains.

“i thought i’d be able to get him in and out before you got back,” he starts out. “i’m sorry i didn’t respond to you all day, but everything got away from me, and the place i was going to take cheol was closed, and he asked to see the apartment and i couldn’t really say no.”

“well get him out of there,” you hiss. “i can’t handle this right now.”

“handle what?” jeonghan asks, and you groan at the jealousy in his voice.

“hannie!” you whine. “you know what i mean. i was trying not to cry all the way home and now there’s a man in our house and i have to cry in the hallway. my day can’t get any worse.”

“i’m sorry,” jeonghan says. “i’m sorry. i’ll get him out. but...”

“what?” you groan, and jeonghan looks at you shamefaced.

“baby, if you don’t want to see him you’ll have to hide in the lobby or something. otherwise i bring you back inside and you have to address him there, or you stay out here and see him then.”

“i can’t just hide behind you?” you ask quietly, and he shakes his head. “‘fraid not, my love.”

“you’re in the shit, yoon jeonghan,” you say with an accusing finger under his chin. “you owe me.”

“you know i’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, dipping down to give you a chaste kiss. he leads you back to your door, pushing it open and clearing his throat when he sees cheol sitting with his head almost between his knees on the couch. “seungcheol, i can explain.”

“i don’t want to hear a word,” he says, standing up to get in jeonghan’s face. “some friend you are. how could you not tell me?”

“i’m sorry, i-”

“leave him alone,” you pipe up, and cheol’s anger turns to you briefly. once he looks at you, really looks at you, it all fades away and a soft ache replaces it. “seungcheol i think you should leave.”

“but-”

“you’re a guest in our home, and you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you hold your ground, but still don’t make eye contact with him. it’s comical, actually. you really are hiding behind jeonghan as you watch cheol leave.

“i can’t believe this,” he scoffs, gathering his things and pressing past you both. he looks back at you passingly as you close the door in his face, and your heart stirs in a way you don’t understand. the way cheol was looking at you burns into the backs of your eyelids, and you shake your head to get rid of it. jeonghan’s soft lips on your neck pull you back to reality, and he falls into another round of apologies. you turn around in his grasp, resting your head against his neck before you say, “jeonghan, it’s alright. let’s just go to bed.”

it’s safe to say that seungcheol is pissed. what’s infuriating about it though, at work he acts like nothing’s wrong. in meetings, through emails, on conference calls, cheol is the perfect associate. in the hallways though? the elevator? the break room? jeonghan feels ice shooting daggers through cheol’s gaze whenever their paths cross. he needs a chance to explain, but cheol won’t give it to him. he’s hurt that his friend would do this to him and keep it a secret, but what hurts just as much is that you’d date his best friend, hell, you’ve moved in with him, and cheol had no clue. from either of you. it’s hard to process that two people who were once so important to him could betray him like this, and with each other. he’s content to keep his relationship with jeonghan completely professional, hopeful that if he plays his cards right he’ll never have to be around you for extended periods of time.

the first test of that comes this friday with a company celebration for the acquisition of so many new accounts, cheol’s included. he has to go, and he knows you’ll be there a majority of the night. he’s ready to dodge and weave, staying on alert for where you are at all times. but the moment he lets his guard down, you’re at his side, ordering a drink at the bar. you didn’t notice it was cheol or else you never would’ve approached, but jeonghan has been talking to some creepy accountant for so long you needed an out. cheol glances to the side and sees two glasses in your hands, sadly meeting your eyes as he acknowledges that one of them must be for jeonghan. you open your mouth to say something, but he’s disappeared into the crowd before you can even say hello.

you get back to jeonghan to find him typing on his phone, and a quick peek tells you that he’s asking seungkwan to remove said creepy accountant from the premises. you smile as you hand him his drink, putting your hand under his chin so you can steady yourself to kiss his cheek. he lets you once, but then he turns so he can steal a kiss before you realize what’s happening. it makes you laugh, and the sound rings out across the corner of the room.

“shh, baby,” jeonghan laughs. “can’t let everyone here know you’re having a better time than they are.”

“it’s a nice party though,” you tell him. “they should all be enjoying it.”

“i hope so,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to hold back the strands that have fallen out of place, only for them to drape back over his face softly.

“you look sexy, by the way.”

“do i?” he smiles, and you nod, kissing his cheek again. he uses this as a chance to whisper in your ear, “and you’re stunning as always. i can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

“hannie stop,” you giggle, letting your face heat up as you pull away from him again. he drapes an arm around you now, pulling you into his side as he turns to face the rest of the room. with his lips closely pressed to your hairline he whispers something else that makes your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“i’m not the only one who can’t stop staring,” jeonghan says, turning you until you’re facing seungcheol from across the room. he’s right, cheol’s eyes are locked in on you and jeonghan. weird, considering he couldn’t get away from you fast enough earlier. even now his gaze holds strong, and you feel your blush deepen, this time from embarrassment and something more. “he’s been watching you all night.”

“stop,” you repeat, and jeonghan chuckles so lowly that you feel the sound rumble in your own chest pressed next to his. “he’s angry.”

“you think so?” jeonghan asks, his own gaze following yours to stare at cheol. “think we should talk to him?”

“actually, i do,” you say, breaking the stare down to look up at jeonghan. “or at least i should. you’re a good man, hannie, but i’m afraid you’d both get so cocky you wouldn’t be able to get through to him.”

“you think that’s a good idea?” he asks with a touch of warning in his voice. “he’s been hard to get through to all week-”

“and maybe if i talk to him, i can fix that,” you reply. then, quieter, almost like you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you ask, “come on, don’t you miss him?”

either you’re right and jeonghan does miss his best friend, or he’s scared to acknowledge that you might miss him too. regardless he nods and loosens his grip so you can step away. cheol watched that whole exchange, so he sees you coming. when you get close he tries to hide, but you don’t care, you call out his name loud enough for the partygoers around you to part like the sea just to get you through to him faster.

“cheol, hi,” you say with a shy smile once you’re close enough to speak at a normal volume. “um, i didn’t get to say anything earlier at the bar, so i’m sorry i yelled just now.”

“no worries,” he says curtly.

“i just..wanted to get your attention,” you continue, watching him unsure. “i want to talk, if that’s ok.”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” he replies, and he’s about to turn away but you place a delicate hand on his arm, squeezing lightly as you say, “no, really. we need to talk.”

you can feel jeonghan’s eyes on you as you lead cheol out to the balcony, major deja vu to the first night you and jeonghan became something. crazy how things come full circle, you think. you catch jeonghan’s eyes from across the room and nod at him, but his face is unmoving, watching you apprehensively with something close to worry in his eyes.

out on the balcony, cheol tries to keep as much space between you as possible. you tried joining him at the railing but he slid away childishly, and then when you took another step in his direction he moved to the chairs like he was going to sit down. you can tell there’s nervous energy behind his dark brown eyes, so you let him scramble for a minute before calling his name.

“cheollie,” you whisper so softly that the wind almost takes it away. the sound of his nickname falling from your lips stops him cold, his sad eyes looking up at you as you begin to explain. “none of this is what it looks like.”

“you sure about that?” he scoffs, finally sitting down at one of the chairs in front of you. you remain standing, leaning against the railing, and you can see the flash of jeonghan’s suit through the windows. was he listening?

“jeonghan and i started dating a few months ago, after he moved back home. we hadn’t even talked since you and i...broke up..but we were at the same party, and we started hanging out-”

“i don’t need to hear that,” cheol says dismissively. “i need to hear you and jeonghan apologize for not telling me. my two best friends. the two people i used to be closer to than anybody else, leaving me for each other?”

“that’s not what happened though,” you whine.

“y/n please,” he rolls his eyes.

“no, seungcheol, you’re not listening to me,” you say sternly, crossing your arms over your chest for good measure. it’s just a bonus that it makes your dress shift ever so slightly, showing the lacy edge of your bra underneath. cheol’s eyes are shamelessly on your chest as you go on. “jeonghan and i never did anything to betray you, other than choosing what was better for our lives, our careers, in the long run. if i remember correctly, you had a couple choices to make too, and i think you chose exactly the same thing. so whatever butt hurt feelings you have? get over it. we’re all here now. you and hannie need to work together, so put your big boy pants on and work. that also requires you to at least say hi to me when i see you at these events.” you take a breath before you go on. “i know it may not be easy..but it’s what we all have to do. got it?”

“yes ma’am,” cheol nods, standing and crossing over to you. he moves so that he’s barely caging you in, making sure you can’t leave as he says, “but just know. i’ll be mature about this. i’ll be the best god damn employee here, and i’ll treat you like a queen if that’s what it takes to make you stop pouting. but you and i both know we belong together.” he pauses so he can try to read your face, continuing with his dark eyes staring you down. “so know that every day i come into work. every fancy party i’m at. all i’m going to be thinking about is you.”

“cheol, i-” your voice is cut off by the sound of the balcony door opening, and your heart stops until you see vernon, seungcheol’s assistant, poking his head outside.

“hey, you’re missing the toast,” he tells cheol, who hasn’t turned around at all. he nods and says he’ll be there soon, vernon stepping back into the party unnoticed. cheol holds your gaze a moment longer before finally turning away.

“it was nice talking to you, y/n,” he says once he reaches the door. he sends you a wink before slipping through the door. “hopefully i’ll see you again very soon.”

you can’t stop thinking about what cheol said out on the balcony. you rejoin the party a few moments after him, sticking to the back as you listen to jeonghan lead the toasts to all their new employees, a brighter future, his usual charming boss speeches that everyone just eats up. you’re pressing your fingers to your lips, thoughts flooding through your head, when you hear your name called out and suddenly feel a roomful of eyes on you.

“and personally i just want to thank my rock, y/n, for being my voice of reason,” jeonghan says. “you’d be surprised how many of the important decisions i make here are actually because of her, so i’d like to raise a toast to her and all the other unspoken heroes of our company-” as he continues on, everyone’s focus shifts, but you feel one set of eyes still on you. you turn and find cheol, staring at you knowingly with a champagne flute in his hand. he tilts it toward you with a wink before swigging it down in one gulp, and you turn away when you catch yourself admiring his jawline. when curiosity gets the best of you and you look back, he’s gone.

once the event is over, you go back to jeonghan’s office to wait for him to politely talk to people until they get the hint that they need to leave. jeonghan says this is the reason he has a couch in his office, so you have somewhere comfortable to wait for him after parties, but really he got it because he doesn’t always want to fuck on his desk. you wonder if tonight will be one of those nights, but you think that question is answered when jeonghan walks through the door and collapses on top of you in exhaustion. you wrap your arms around him, a hand instantly falling to the back of his head so you can play with his hair. he hums into your neck, placing a single kiss on your skin before his breathing evens out. you lay like this for a while, content to stay like this all night, but you know you need to tell him about cheol.

“hannie,” you whisper, and his lack of a response makes you think he’s actually asleep. you push him up by the forehead, giggling when he looks at you confused and mumbles, “what.”

“hey cutie,” you whisper, kissing his forehead. “get up, you’re crushing me.”

“deal with it.”

“jeonghan, seriously,” you say, and he finally lifts himself up, staring at you expectantly. “i need to tell you about cheol.”

“tell me tomorrow,” he says before falling back onto your chest. “don’t feel like getting pissed off right now.”

“you’re both annoying,” you grumble, and that gets his attention.

“he was annoying?” he asks, his cheek still pressed against your chest. you can feel his warm skin on yours, and his cheek is pushed up so that his face is smushed. it’s cute, but you can’t get distracted. “tell me more.”

“he’s mad,” you start, “so i was right-”

“you’re always right-”

“don’t be a kiss ass,” you say sternly, and jeonghan chuckles. “what?”

“now i’m just thinking about your ass,” he says with a cheeky smile, peeking an eye open at you.

“jeonghan!” you whine. “can you please take this seriously! i tried talking to cheol about us, about all of us being mature about this, and he was really...he made it seem like..”

“like what?” jeonghan asks, sitting up suddenly. “he made it seem like what, y/n?”

“like he wasn’t over me,” you whisper, and jeonghan sees red for a moment. “he didn’t try anything. he didn’t want to be anywhere near me, n-not that i tried getting close to him! but like, i tried talking to him at the railing and he ran away, and then i could tell he was staring at my chest and he was like, super vague but still upset, and he said something about us being meant for each other and i just-”

“do you agree with him?” jeonghan asks, and you stop. “do you think you’re meant for each other?”

“hannie, i...he’s upset,” you reply, not giving him the response he wants. “he didn’t want to hear me explain anything, but he’s obviously hurt. he said he was going to change his attitude at work, but i don’t think this helped as much as i thought it would.”

“he’s the most stubborn man in the world, y/n.”

“oh so that explains why you two used to get along,” you tease, running a hand through jeonghan’s hair. your hand settles at the back of his head as you say, “i’m happy with you, hannie. you make me feel like the special-est girl ever. don’t look at me like you’re worried.”

“i’m not worried about you,” he says, turning so he can press soft kisses onto your wrist. “i’m worried about him.”

“whatever,” you shrug. “cheol is gonna be cheol. this will get easier with time.”

“hm,” he hums, lips still against your wrist. “speaking of time, how late is it?”

“late,” you reply. “we should go.”

“late?” he laughs. “that’s not a time baby.”

“i don’t have a watch,” you shrug. “and someone is laying on me, so i can’t reach my phone.”

“should i buy you a watch?” jeonghan asks, that glint in his eyes whenever he’s ready to spoil you. “maybe we should get matching ones.”

“minnie and mickey mouse?” you suggest, and he laughs.

“we’ll go shopping this weekend,” he promises before he hoists himself up, pulling you with him. “let’s go home now baby.”

it’s been a few days since the party, and you haven’t stopped thinking about cheol. it’s really bothering you, but you don’t want to bring it up to jeonghan again because you know it’ll just upset him. you’re thinking about what you should do as you make dinner tonight. you were able to come home early, excited to surprise jeonghan after such a stressful couple of days. he hasn’t said much about cheol, only that he’s been keeping to himself while still getting his work done. you figure this is how it should be, cheol doing his job and leaving the two of you alone, but there’s just a sliver of your heart that wants more. you’re thinking about it as jeonghan walks through the door, calling out your name before following the smell of food into the kitchen.

“is it my birthday or something?” he asks with a happy smile on his face.

“hm, no?” you think for a second. “just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“you’re an angel,” he says as he walks over to join you, his arms wrapping around your waist and head falling to the crook of your neck. “you have perfect timing too, my day sucked.”

“aw hannie,” you try to turn around in his arms, wanting to watch him as he explains what went wrong, but he holds your waist firmly so you won’t move.

“keep cooking,” he whispers into your neck, kissing at the spot behind your ear that sends a chill down your spine. “let me blow off some steam before dinner. just tell me when it’s too much, got it baby?” you nod, but you hear jeonghan grumble, “use your words y/n.”

“got it,” you whisper out, and you feel jeonghan smile against your skin. he keeps kissing up and down your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can kiss right where your neck and shoulder meet. you feel his tongue against your skin and then the sharp pang of teeth, jeonghan working on marking your neck. you let him work, trying to focus on not burning the food, but he’s making it incredibly difficult.

“turn the heat down baby,” he advises you, noticing your lack of attention. “don’t want you to ruin dinner because you were distracted.” you do, your breath shaky when jeonghan’s hand slips from your waist to cup your pussy through your shorts. your breathes start coming in little gasps as he gives you the least amount of pressure possible. you groan frustrated, and he chuckles against your neck. “impatient baby.”

“i’m almost done cooking, hannie,” you tell him. “hurry up.”

“turn the stove off then,” jeonghan rasps out. “we’re staying right here.” his hand slips to the edge of your shorts, his fingers pushing the fabric of your shorts and panties aside to feel the arousal pooling at your core. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“n-no.”

“no what?”

“no sir.”

“good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your ear as his fingers dip to your core. he loves feeling you falling apart on his fingers, you’d think you’d be used to this by now. but feeling him sink two fingers into your core has you shaking in his hold, grabbing onto his arm for leverage. you try grinding down into him, wanting more, but jeonghan is ever patient and ignores your attempts to feel more. he takes it slow, dragging his fingers in and out at an excruciating pace. it’s not enough, so your mind starts to wander to other times jeonghan has had his way with you in the kitchen, folding you over the counter, kneeling between your legs as you cook, and you jolt as your mind starts conjuring up images of cheol doing the same. your eyes fly open, jeonghan so tuned into your reactions that he chuckles as he whispers, “feel good baby?” and your heart starts to race. he doesn’t know. he can’t read your thoughts, so he doesn’t know what you were just imagining. but you feel...wrong. you feel like you’re doing something forbidden, not allowed, as you let jeonghan work you toward your high with thoughts of cheol still flashing through your mind.

“i’m c-close hannie,” you breathe out, trying to anchor yourself in this moment. you feel him biting your neck again, leaving another hickey you’re not sure you’ll be able to cover up.

“let me hear you then,” he says, fingers finally working faster, trying to make you come. you moan freely, feeling jeonghan’s hard cock pressing into you from behind. your eyes start to roll back as you come, letting out a soft moan, “oh, cheol-”

jeonghan stops.

all the air leaves your lungs, and you gasp as you try to cover, but jeonghan shushes you, arms tightening around your body as his lips graze your ear. “what did you just say?”

“n-nothing-”

“don’t lie to me,” he whispers. “what. did. you. say.”

“i-i said ch-cheol,” you stutter, jeonghan’s fingers still inside you, feeling the way your walls clench around him as you mention he who must not be named. “hannie, please, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to, i-”

“should i call him?” jeonghan asks, and you hate the way your body reacts to the idea. “let him hear you moaning so pretty for him while i’m playing with your pussy? or should we skip that and just invite him over here to fuck you?” he asks, hands pulling from you so he can turn you around and cage you in against the counter. he gets closer, eyes angry and a little turned on as he asks, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“hannie, no, i want you, need you,” you say, afraid to touch him as his hands work at his belt. he’s got his cock out in record time, lazily stroking it as he watches you.

“you want me, you need me, but you want him too, don’t you?” he asks, and you could cry at how frustrated you are right now. you let jeonghan lift you onto the counter, spreading your legs as he pulls your clothes to the side. he taps his cock over your clit, reveling in the way you whine for him. “come on baby, talk to me. told you to use your words.”

“i-i don’t want cheol,” you say shakily. “i want you, jeonghan.” that’s all he needed to hear, slamming his cock into you as you let out a choked sob. he’s relentless, fucking you so fast you’re not sure how you’re going to hold out. instantly his thumb is rubbing over your clit, wanting to make you come as fast as possible. considering how close you were, he doesn’t wait long, a scream of his name ripping through your chest as you release around him, but he doesn’t stop. proudly, he smiles as he fucks into you, watching your pussy swallow his cock as he says, “what do you think cheol would do if he was here right now?”

“jeonghan-”

“answer me,” he says, eyes finding yours and holding your gaze. you can see the way his pupils are blown out, lust taking over him, and you realize with a gasp that he’s enjoying this. he’s mad, sure, but this is turning him on. the thought has you clenching around him hard, and he smiles evilly before he goes on. “you think he’d want your mouth? or would he want your pussy?”

“b-both,” you stutter out, jerking in jeonghan’s hold as you get closer again. “he’d want both.”

“hm, greedy. just like you,” jeonghan tuts, bringing his thumb up to your lips before asking you to suck, you hold onto his wrist, steadying yourself as you suck on his thumb while he fucks you, and you can’t believe you’re about to come again. “hold on honey. wait for me.”

“jeonghan i can’t-”

“you will,” he says sternly, switching his pace so he’s thrusting into you so deep you feel like he’s going to split you open. your pussy keeps clenching down on him, making it hard to move, and when he looks up and sees you with his thumb still hanging from your mouth he groans, holding your chin as he watches you slowly unravel. he admires the way your eyes flutter first, then your jaw goes slack, whimpering as he thrusts into you to help you come. your body starts to shake and he can feel you spasming around his cock, his hips jerking as he starts coming deep inside you. he thrusts lazily until you’re both spent, your sensitive body jerking at every movement. he finally pulls out, moaning as he watches his come spill out of you. he looks up at you with an evil smirk, asking, “should i send a picture to seungcheol?”

“jeonghan, i’m sorry,” you sigh again, head falling to his shoulder. “that didn’t mean anything, it just came out.”

“but why did it come out?” he laughs nervously, stroking your hair as you latch onto him. with your arms firmly around his shoulders, you wrap your legs around his waist and he carries you into the living room. then he sits down with you in his lap, looking up at you softly as he asks. “what were you thinking about in that pretty head of yours?”

“i was thinking about you,” you start honestly. “and how you love fucking in our kitchen, for some reason-”

“i just love fucking you,” he admits as he plays with the strands of your hair falling over your shoulder. “so you were thinking about me and that made you moan cheol’s name?”

“no, i um,” you clear your throat. “i don’t know. he’s just. it’s been on my mind a lot lately, i guess. so my mind wandered. it just came out,” you say earnestly, cupping jeonghan’s face, “i’m so sorry.”

“don’t be,” he shrugs, a sad little smile on his face. your thumbs rub over his cheeks as he stares at you, and he opens his mouth to say something but stops.

“what?” you ask, knowing there’s something else on his mind. “say something baby.”

“you’re not over him,” he says sadly, and you feel tears in your eyes as you shake your head. “you’re not, and that’s ok.”

“but hannie, i love you i don’t know why i can’t-”

“you love me?” jeonghan asks, and you stiffen. you’ve never said that to him before, and this is how your stupid brain lets it come out?

“i do,” you whisper, “i love you so much, yoon jeonghan.”

“but you love cheol too,” he says quietly, and you nod.

“i think i still love him,” you admit. “but i don’t understand why, because i know i love you.”

“well,” jeonghan sighs, hands snaking around your waist again. “for what it’s worth, i know i love you too.”

“really?” you sniff, and he presses a soft kiss to your nose.

“i’ve known it for a while, actually,” he tells you.

“you love me,” you smile.

“and you love me,” he nods.

“i’m sorry,” you pout again, and he shakes his head.

“don’t be. you love me right?”

“i do,” you nod, kissing his chin as you wrap your arms around him.

“then that’s all that matters,” jeonghan says quietly, and you sit together like that, wrapped in each others arms, minds racing.

this isn’t how you wanted to tell him. you wanted the moment to be right, your confession of love needing to be special because jeonghan is special. he means so much to you. you haven’t felt this kind of love since..well, since cheol. jeonghan treats you like royalty and you want to treat him the same, so you’re torn at the thought of not being able to love him fully. but as you’re struggling to accept this, jeonghan has one thing running through his brain.

he needs to talk to seungcheol. now.

the next few days with jeonghan are insanely soft. you’re not sure if it’s because both of you let your feelings be known, or if it’s both of you trying to cover up the other feelings that were revealed a couple nights ago. either way, you’ve been in heaven. the rest of the work week flew by, both of you taking turns making each other’s favorite meals and then cuddling on the couch, not wanting to be far from each other for more than a few minutes. it’s like the early days of your relationship all over again, and you love it.

jeonghan was serious when he said he was going to buy you a watch though, so he takes you shopping first thing saturday morning. you whine at him not wanting to sleep in, but he makes a good point that the mall is unbearably crowded after lunchtime. so you reluctantly drag yourself out of bed, making coffee while jeonghan picks out a couple outfit he insisted you wear. you smile when you see what he’s chosen, two red flannels and your favorite pair of jeans. you try to keep him at bay as you dress, but he grumbles at you as he pulls his own clothes on.

“so mean to me, the man you love,” he says in disbelief, watching as you pull on a white tank top to wear under the flannel. “nice tits.”

“focus.”

“sorry,” he smiles. “do you wanna eat before we leave or get something on the way there?”

you spend some time following jeonghan around this very fancy department store, helping him pick out new work clothes. he begged you to stay with him, not wanting to lose you to the purses he saw you gravitate towards when you walked in. he grabbed your hand and held on tightly, only letting go every so often to hold up a new shirt or jacket to ask for your opinion. jeonghan usually gets everything tailored, so trying things on isn’t that much of a concern for him here but he happily lets you slide your hands down his arms, slipping off the flannel so you can see what the blazers look like on him. he loves watching you step back in thought before (usually) deciding he looks great and he needs the suit immediately. really, having you here is no help to his wallet, but it boosts his confidence like hell.

he’s about to ask you about a pair of pants when he turns and sees a flash of red moving through the racks behind you two, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. for now, he decides he’s looked at enough clothes and grabs your hand again to go find the jewelry counter. he called yesterday to place an order, and you’re mostly here to see if the watch fits. when you get to the counter you start looking in the glass to see what you might like, but jeonghan’s voice brings you to the end of the counter. he’s thanking the worker as they pass over a velvet box that jeonghan handles with care, looking up and beckoning you to come closer.

“do you like it baby?” he asks, showing you the silver watch with pearl inlays on the timepiece. you gasp and jeonghan laughs with the worker as she says, “i think she likes it!” you reach your hand out and let jeonghan secure it around your wrist, nodding proudly at the perfect fit. he looks back to the attendant and says, “i’ll go ahead and take the other one i called about.”

“sure thing,” she says before heading to the storage room behind her. she comes back with a similar box and jeonghan holds it under his arm as he closes the box your watch came in, knowing you won’t want to take it off now. they’re already paid for, so he offers his free hand to you and you carefully move your newly adorned arm to link through his. as you start walking through the store you think you see a familiar face up ahead, but it’s quickly obstructed by jeonghan’s fast pace.

“wait, did you get something?” you ask, stopping in the middle of the store. let me see yours.”

“i was serious about us matching,” he replies, handing you your box so he can open his. he shows you an almost identical piece, the only difference being a single pearl that connects the two clock hands.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, like it’s a secret the world shouldn’t know about just yet. you cup his face and kiss him, whispering against his lips, “thank you. you’re too wonderful.”

“y/n?” a deep voice calls from behind your boyfriend. you separate from jeonghan and see cheol standing a few feet away, a look of not-so-hidden disgust on his face. “what are you doing here man?”

“same as you,” jeonghan says comfortably, draping his arm across your shoulders. “you mentioned getting some new suits and i realized it’s been a while since i got any new work clothes, so we started here and now we’re probably on our way to that fancy cooking store y/n loves so much.

“nice,” cheol nods, looking at you both awkwardly. you notice then that your heart is beating quickly in your chest, and you hope jeonghan can’t feel it.

“hey, we’re all matching,” jeonghan points out, gesturing between the three of you and your shirts in various shades of red. “that’s cute.”

“right,” cheol nods awkwardly, regarding you both with a strange look in his eyes. you know that look, he looks like he’s trying to hide a secret. “well, um, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“bye cheol,” you say meekly, jeonghan waving as he turns you both toward the exit. you slap his side once you’re far enough away, and cheol rolls his eyes when he hears jeonghan’s unmistakable laugh.

that was weird, he thinks to himself. yesterday jeonghan was out of character, talking to cheol for far too long in the break room, wanting to know about his weekend and what his plans were. when cheol told him he was going shopping, jeonghan didn’t mention anything about needing to go himself. he just asked where cheol planned on going, and then he’s here the same time as him the next day. that’s not a coincidence, is it?

after you spend too much time and too much money at the next store, you leave with bags in your hand that you immediately push onto jeonghan when you find him waiting for you outside.

“jesus woman,” he laughs, “did you buy us a new kitchen?”

“no, just some things we needed,” you say innocently, and jeonghan sighs as he tries to balance the bags in his arms while still typing on his phone.

“what are you doing?” you ask, reaching out to help him but he swats you away.

“i’m texting cheol,” jeonghan says nonchalantly, and your heart drops to your ass.

“oh.”

“i invited him to lunch,” jeonghan says, looking back up at you again. “that ok?”

“um, i don’t know,” you reply. “should we? i mean, are we good?”

“i’m good,” jeonghan nods. “i think it would be nice. maybe we can try going back to normal.”

“o-ok,” you say, unsure of your boyfriend’s intentions. “so, where are we going?”

“we’ll meet him there,” jeonghan says, holding his arm out for you to grab onto. “come on, let’s go to the car.”

when you got to the car you didn’t expect jeonghan to put the bags away and immediately pull you across the center console to sit in his lap. he’s holding you down by the waist, capturing your lips in a kiss that he deepens just to moan into your mouth. you don’t hate it, but you also don’t know what’s gotten into him. you push away from him slightly, his lips chasing yours, but you put your fingers to his lips to hold him off.

“baby. talk to me. what is going on with you,” you state more than ask.

“i wanna do something,” he says mischievously.

“that’s obvious,” you say as you roll your eyes, and jeonghan nipping at your chin makes you swat him away and sit up fully. “what do you want to do. drive me insane?”

“yep,” he nods. “open the glovebox.”

“jeonghan-”

“what did i say?” he asks, and you stop talking, reaching awkwardly over to the glovebox to find the bullet vibrator and handcuffs still there from a few weeks ago. you hold them up, and jeonghan says, “put the cuffs away. too noticeable.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, confused. “jeonghan, what are you up to?”

“do you trust me?” he asks, and you nod. “words, honey.”

“of course i trust you,” you tell him, placing your hand on his cheek. he hums as he nuzzles into your touch, kissing your palm. he opens his own hand, and you pass him the toy. he turns it on to the lowest setting, pushing your flannel out of the way so he can trace it over your chest. you jolt in his lap when he traces over your nipples, smiling when he sees the buds poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. “hannie, we have to go to lunch-”

“to see seungcheol,” he says, eyes watching your chest erupt in goosebumps as he continues dragging the vibrator slowly over your skin.

“yes, and it’d be rude if we invited him and then we were late,” you scold, “so whatever you want to do get to it. or, better yet, wait until after.”

“why would that be better?” jeonghan asks, looking up at you darkly. “you wanna see cheol so you have more to think about when i make you come later?”

“that’s not what i me-eant,” you struggle to say, moaning a little at the end when jeonghan presses the vibrator over your clothed cunt. he pushes it up a few levels and you let out a shaky breath as you try to keep yourself from grinding down.

“give me a color baby.”

“green.”

“good,” he smiles, unbuttoning your pants as he keeps talking. “here’s what i want you to do. i want you to take this and keep it in your pussy while we have lunch. can you do that for me?”

“hannie, i...” you trail off, eyes holding his gaze as you realize he’s looking at you the same way he did a few nights ago. that dark lust is still there. that signal that he might be into this more than he’s letting on. there’s a plan brewing in that pretty head of his, and you let out a shaky breath as you think.

“baby, i need a color,” he repeats. you hold his gaze a little longer before whispering, “green.”

jeonghan is a piece of shit. you hate his guts right now, watching you so happily as you listen to cheol describe his life in europe. you’re struggling, trying so hard to not make it obvious that you literally have a vibrator inside you right now. jeonghan is staring at you with stars in his eyes, and cheol is trying to ignore it, but he can’t stop himself.

“listen, man, did you invite me out to make me jealous or something? i’m sure y/n told you what we talked about at the party,” he says, glancing at you and considering your expression for a second. you look...off. he can’t place why, so he turns back to jeonghan. “i’m not gonna do anything, but come on. be mature about it.”

“i had no ill intentions inviting you out today,” jeonghan says. “we really wanted to catch up, didn’t we y/n?” and all you do is nod. “she’s been wanting us to get back to normal, so i thought this would be a good start.”

“this was your idea?” cheol asks you, and you open your mouth to speak, shifting uncomfortably but soon realizing that was an awful idea. the vibrator has slid up so it’s pressed right against your clit, and your eyes flutter slightly as you try to speak.

“i mean, i wanted you to-” you take a breath, “to get along since you work together. but lunch was his idea,” you explain, pointing a shaky finger at your smug boyfriend. “but i want to hear more about europe. did you go to italy at all?”

“oh my god, you’d go crazy over there,” cheol smiles at you softly. “lots of cool food, amazing coffee.”

“sounds nice,” you smile back, and watching the two of you makes something warm stir in jeonghan’s chest.

“baby, tell him about that pasta you tried making,” jeonghan teases, and you roll your eyes.

“i thought i would try to make fresh pasta,” you start telling cheol, “but i fucked up. i started boiling it and the pasta just...dissolved?”

“it was disgusting,” jeonghan nods. “like a big eggy blob.”

“ew,” cheol says, looking down at the eggs in his noodles. “don’t ruin my appetite for me dude.”

“sorry,” jeonghan laughs, looking at you carefully. he can tell you’re close, so he decides to let you have a break, turning to cheol. “so be honest. how’s work?”

“you mean aside from our assistants having some kind of beef?” cheol laughs, and jeonghan joins him. “it’s good..” you stop listening, instead focusing on the vibrations between your legs. you press your thighs together looking for more pressure, and as the boys talk about some work drama you cover your mouth to hide a silent scream as you come. you play it off as a yawn, but cheol looks at you curiously. “y/n, you ok? are we boring you?” he laughs. if only he knew what that word meant to you and jeonghan.

“oh no, profit margins and revenue blah blah is sooo interesting,” you tease, shooting them both a glare. “no, i’m just really tired. someone didn’t let me sleep in this morning-”

“we had errands!” jeonghan whines, and cheol watches you two fondly.

“i think i might go splash some water on my face,” you tell them, looking at cheol so you don’t see the way jeonghan will react to you leaving. cheol catches himself staring, but he realizes now why you look different. it’s subtle, but he’d recognize it anywhere. you’ve got that kind of glow you only have when you’ve just come. cheol watches you leave, and then turns back to jeonghan.

“she ok?” he asks, and jeonghan shrugs.

“yeah, but we may not stay long if she’s not feeling well,” jeonghan covers, and cheol watches him closely, but eventually decides to leave it alone. surprisingly, he was having a good time. so he let’s himself enjoy this, returning your smile when you come back from the restroom (vibrator securely in your pocket now). “all good baby?”

“yeah,” you nod. “sorry, guess i haven’t slept enough this week.”

“you need to take better care of her,” cheol says to jeonghan, sipping his drink as he waits for him to respond.

“she’s the one that stays up late!” jeonghan whines, and you try to kick him underneath the table. “whatever. pay for your own lunch then.”

“i got you,” cheol says instead, and jeonghan feels a pang of jealousy shoot through his chest. whatever, he thinks to himself. his plan is going well. he’ll just let this play out and hope it works in his favor.

cheol is still thinking about your lunch together when he goes back to work on monday. it was...nice. like really nice, being back around you and jeonghan. he almost felt comfortable with you again, but there was something about the way you acted that made him suspicious.

he’s got a long day ahead of him, so he needs to stop thinking about you. it’s hard though, being back, so close to you yet so far. he loved you so much, still does. and he knows you do too. but jeonghan...

speak of the devil, there’s a knock at the door to cheol’s office as soon as he sits at his desk. he tries not to groan too loud before telling them to come in, and he’s a little surprised to see that it’s jeonghan. they weren’t supposed to meet until 10, why was he here already?

“you got a crush on me or something?” cheol teases as jeonghan makes himself at home and sits in one of the plush chairs in front of cheol’s desk. “we’ve been around each other a lot lately.”

“you’re a handsome man, what can i say,” jeonghan laughs, and cheol can feel his ears warming at the compliment. “no, i wanted to catch you before your first meeting. i’m afraid i have to reschedule on you.”

“aw, darn, you mean we don’t get to argue about budgets until seungkwan breaks it up?”

“i like to think of it as negotiating,” jeonghan replies, and cheol rolls his eyes.

“you’re such a boss. i never thought you could be this professional,” cheol tells him.

“it’s weird right?” jeonghan laughs, and they spend a few minutes reminiscing over their adventures as crazy kids loose in europe. jeonghan checks a watch that looks so brand new it seems to sparkle, and he stands with a sigh, telling cheol, “so i’ll get kwan to set up a new meeting with vernon?”

“sure,” cheol shrugs. “or whenever you have the time. you don’t need an appointment to come talk to me.”

“oh that reminds me,” jeonghan says, stopping with his hand on the door. “y/n wants to have you over for dinner, so text me when you’re free. it’s a standing invitation.”

“um, jeonghan?” cheol calls, and his friend stops with his back to cheol, smile creeping over his lips. “how is she? like, is she sick, or something? i just noticed on saturday that...”

“that what?” jeonghan asks, turning back to face cheol. “she seemed all right to me. maybe a little distracted.”

“yeah, distracted,” cheol says as he narrows his eyes at jeonghan. “you weren’t..doing anything, were you?”

“what do you mean?” jeonghan fakes innocence, cocking his head to the side.

“never mind,” cheol brushes it off. “i’ll text you to let you know when i’m free.”

“sounds good,” jeonghan waves behind him as he leaves, smug smile on his face as his plan falls into place.

when you come home from work later that week and find cheol on your couch, you’re shocked. well, this has happened before, so it’s not as shocking as that first time, but if you had a nickel, right? it’s weird that it’s happening again, and you have deja vu to that first night seeing cheol again after so long. he can tell you’re surprised, so he wants to go find jeonghan in the kitchen and sucker punch him.

“um, are you here for dinner?” you ask, and cheol nods.

“i thought jeonghan had told you, i’m-”

“sorry baby,” jeonghan says, leaning against the wall near the kitchen, drying his hands. “we talked about this at work, and when you said you made too much of that pork thing i figured it was a good night to have him.”

“yeah, that’s fine,” you nod. “heads up would’ve been nice though, what if i said something embarrassing when i walked in?”

“y/n, we dated for four years, you can’t embarrass yourself around me,” cheol says, and you look at jeonghan to read his reaction. he just shrugs and says, “he’s right. you have no shame.”

“i meant what if i said something embarrassing for you,” you correct him, gliding toward the kitchen to kiss jeonghan on the cheeks. “what if i came in here calling you snookums, then all the guys at the office would know you’re a big softie.”

“snookums?” cheol laughs from the couch, and you turn to him with an accusing finger.

“watch it, or i’ll tell jeonghan what your nickname was.”

“what was it?” he asks anyway, an evil smile on his face.

“sweetcheeks,” you and cheol say together, and jeonghan laughs.

“because he’s got cute cheeks?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“butt cheeks,” you clarify. “he’s got a nice ass.”

“whoa,” cheol chimes in, and you ignore him.

“she never talks about my butt like that,” jeonghan says, and cheol laughs nervously as you move past jeonghan into the kitchen. you’re checking the pork you left in the slow cooker this morning when you feel a presence behind you, and assuming it’s jeonghan you say, “a text would’ve been nice.”

“hey, i told him i shouldn’t just show up like this,” cheol’s voice replies instead, and you jump at the unexpected sound. “shit, sorry.”

“no, it’s ok,” you laugh it off, turning to find him awkwardly standing behind you. “it’s really fine that you’re here, cheollie. promise. i wasn’t expecting it, but hannie was right, we’ve got plenty of food.”

“are you making that thing we tried in vegas?” cheol asks hopefully, and he does a little happy dance when you nod. a couple years back, a pair of your friends from high school got married in vegas and invited everyone they knew. you and cheol went for the ‘ceremony’ but stayed a couple days longer for your first real trip together. there was one restaurant you visited just about every day so you could go back and try everything on the menu before you left. you both agreed that this pork was the best thing you’ve ever had, so when you found the recipe online the other day you knew you had to try it. “do you need help?”

“um, could you make the sauce for me?” you ask, and he nods before walking to the sink. “bowls are above the microwave, utensils by the sink.”

“you y/n-fied jeonghan’s kitchen?” cheol teases. “isn’t there some kind of system you always used when you put dishes away? there’s a reason everything is where it is.”

“well i knew i would be cooking in here the most so i kinda made it mine,” you say, and a whine from the doorway makes you turn. you see jeonghan pouting and you roll your eyes, turning back to the meat as you say, “tell me i’m wrong and i’ll sucker punch you.”

“baby, we have a guest, be nice,” jeonghan mumbles as he opens the fridge, asking you both if you want something to drink. he falls into working alongside cheol, chopping veggies to go with the pork and making sure the lettuce is clean for the wraps.

“y/n, taste this,” cheol says, and you turn to him as he offers a spoon. he makes an airplane noise as he brings it to your lips, and you close your mouth to glare at him. he accidentally bumps the spoon into your chin, spilling a little on you.

“you’re a child,” you grumble, tongue licking at the sauce on your lips. “but damn. that’s good.”

“right?” cheol smiles, turning to jeonghan to do the same, sans plane noises this time. you watch fondly as jeonghan tastes, humming cutely to signify his approval. everything is done for the most part, you just need to let the pork brown in the oven for a minute so you all take your drinks and head back to the living room, obliviously sitting down on the couch in a line, jeonghan, you, cheol. jeonghan immediately places his hand on your thigh, and you see cheol’s hand twitch to do the same. he catches himself though, looking up to see if you caught him just to find your eyes staring back. you’re about to say something, or you want to, at least, but jeonghan asking for the tv remote interrupts. you point behind cheol and he finds the remote, passing it across you to jeonghan.

you watch jeonghan pick something to watch, but it mostly ends up as background noise when he turns excitedly to cheol to ask about some show they both used to be obsessed with. you listen at first, but you lay your head down on jeonghan’s shoulder and close your eyes for a moment. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol admires you like this, and he almost mentions his plan now. but it’s not the right time. instead, he lets you rest, only shaking you awake when he hears the timer in the kitchen going off. he and cheol watch you leave, and when jeonghan notices cheol’s eyes following your ass he smiles.

“do you need help baby?” he calls, and cheol is up and in the kitchen before you can reply. he sees you struggling to reach the nice plates at the top of the cabinet, so he comes behind you with a hand at the small of your back to reach above you with ease. you look back at him, eyes glancing down at his lips so briefly, but he’s tuned into your every movement. he catches it, smirking like hell as he goes to set the table. jeonghan comes into the kitchen next with your discarded drinks, and as you start taking the food he says he’ll get the utensils.

“um, where do you want me to sit?” cheol asks when you enter the dining room, and you look at the table and back at him, shrugging.

“wherever,” you reply. “we barely eat in here, so we don’t have assigned seats.”

“can i, um,” he clears his throat, “can i sit next to you?”

“sure,” you nod with a shy smile, pointing to the spot closest to you. “i’ll probably sit there.”

“so you do have assigned seats,” cheol squints at you, and you giggle as jeonghan finally comes back in, drinks and utensils balanced dangerously in his hands. cheol rushes to help and you say you’ll grab the rest of the food, leaving the two men alone.

“where are you sitting?” jeonghan asks, watching where cheol points so he can place the drinks accordingly. “don’t try to lay a move on my girlfriend.”

“i would never,” cheol says, looking at jeonghan with a slight challenge in his eyes. “same as you?”

“right,” jeonghan nods, and you come back in to some tension. you awkwardly walk past them, the smell of the pork pulling their attention like cartoon characters smelling a pie. they start complimenting you without even trying the food, cheol pulling your chair out for you politely as you sit down. he helps you show jeonghan how to build the perfect wrap, and when you’re done demonstrating you hold the one in your hand up to your boyfriend. he leans forward, looking between you both as he takes a bite, moaning openly at how good it is. “fuck, that’s delicious.”

“damn,” cheol hums, cheeks full of food as he looks at you, “you’re unreal. this tastes exactly like it did at the restaurant.”

“i think she’s a witch,” jeonghan jokes, and you kick him under the table.

“behave, you two,” cheol warns, a joking lilt in his voice, but you and jeonghan listen obediently, everyone falling silent as you start piling your plates and feasting on the delicious food. there’s really no talking, which is fine, but when the meal is over (plates cleared) the boys bicker back and forth over who’s going to do the dishes.

“cheol’s a guest, he shouldn’t have to do your chores,” you weigh in, and cheol drapes his hand over the back of your chair as he looks at jeonghan smugly.

“baby,” jeonghan whines and you shake your head. “you’re mean.”

“you’re meaner,” you reply, standing and stacking plates so it’s easier for jeonghan to take into the kitchen.

“how am i mean?!” he cries, and you hold his gaze, trying to remind him of the last time you ate with cheol. a smile slowly breaks out over his face, and cheol coughs delicately behind you.

“should i leave you two alone?” he jokes, a hint of seriousness in it though. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, but you and jeonghan insist he stay, so he relaxes. he grabs two more drinks for you and himself from the kitchen, playfully sticking his tongue out at jeonghan stuck at the sink.

he comes back into the living room to you sprawled on the couch, so he leaves your drink on the coffee table before sitting in the armchair. you look up at him cutely and pout, saying, “you’re so far away.”

“i’m right here baby,” he lets slip, and when your eyes bulge slightly he backtracks. “shit, sorry, i didn’t um, sorry.”

“it’s ok,” you say, holding his gaze. “so. tell me more about europe.”

“what else do you need to know?” cheol chuckles. “i feel like i’ve droned on about it.”

“you haven’t said..everything, i’m sure,” you say, and cheol gets it. you want to know if he was with anybody else, his ego boosted at your subtle jealousy.

“i haven’t?” he asks, and you know he’s teasing. “i’m not quite sure what you mean, y/n.”

“um,” you sit up before continuing, “any uh, any lucky ladies over there heartbroken that you’re back home?”

“probably a few,” he nods, and you scoff. “i don’t care about them though.”

“oh,” you say meekly, still holding his gaze.

“never did, if i’m honest,” he goes on. “my heart wasn’t in it.”

“sad,” you point out and he nods.

“i’m glad to be back though,” he says with finality. you’re about to respond but jeonghan comes back in and plops down on top of you, pushing your body down into the cushions.

“hannie, we were talking,” you mumble into his chest, not able to move with his lanky body draped over you like this.

“just talking, huh?” he whispers just low enough for you to hear it. “i have something i wanna talk about.”

“what?”

“cheol,” jeonghan calls as he sits up, and you follow, trying to fix your hair as you listen. cheol quirks an eyebrow at you both, and jeonghan says, “you’re still in love with y/n, right?”

“what?” he asks, caught off guard. “i mean, i, i don’t know what you want to hear, man.”

“the truth,” jeonghan admits, and cheol stares for a moment before he says quietly, “i do. i love her.”

“good,” jeonghan smiles, turning to you next. “y/n? you love cheol, right?”

“hannie,” you whisper, and he shakes his head.

“to cheol, baby, tell him,” he whispers back, and you look at cheol as you say, “i think i still love him. yeah.”

“perfect,” jeonghan smiles, looking between you both. “and you love me?” he asks you, to which you agree. he turns to cheol and asks the same, and cheol hesitantly nods. “so we’re all on the same page.”

“no, i don’t think we are,” cheol says, and you nod, pulling his hand to your lap as you ask, “hannie, what are you doing?”

“i want to see you two kiss,” jeonghan says, eyes searing into yours. you gasp, eyes flicking over to cheol, and you catch his hands twitching on the armrests. you look back to jeonghan, who’s waiting expectantly. “what do you think?”

“i think you’re crazy,” you whisper, and his expression falls only slightly.

“it’s just one kiss baby,” jeonghan says with a shrug. “i won’t mind. i’m sure cheol won’t mind. i know you want to,” he says, and you don’t respond. “it’s just one kiss, you can do it for me,” he says again, and your heart picks up speed when cheol pipes up.

“yeah, y/n, it’s just one kiss,” he smirks, and you glare at him.

“you stay out of this,” you point, and he puts his hands up innocently. you look back at your madman of a boyfriend and see the way he’s looking at you, and it’s weird. you know that look. you know he wants this. he’s...hopeful? and you think saying no would hurt his feelings. you look back at cheol, who’s watching you in a similar way, and you breathe out, “fine. one kiss.”

“get to it then,” jeonghan says, patting your thigh as you look between the two men again. your skin feels like it’s on fire as you stand, walking over to cheol knowing they’re both studying your every move. you stop in front of him, suddenly self conscious. you don’t know what to do, so when jeonghan says softly, “sit in his lap baby,” you do it, hands carefully placed on cheol’s shoulders as you straddle his lap, hovering over him. you hear shifting behind you, guessing that jeonghan is moving so he can see better, and then you flick your eyes up to cheol. his pupils are the size of saucers, and you can’t help but let out a little whimper as his hands fall to your hips.

“get comfortable,” he says, “can’t kiss you so stiff like this.”

you let him push you down into his lap, one hand staying on your hip as the other comes up to cup your chin. he lifts it softly, bringing your lips to his in a delicate kiss. your skin erupts in goosebumps, memories flashing back at hyper speed. the feeling of cheol’s lips on yours is intoxicating, and you instantly want more. your lips chase his, eyes still closed as he pulls you away, and the sound of the two men chuckling pulls you back to the moment.

“how was it honey?” jeonghan asks behind you, and watching cheol you respond, “it was good.”

“just good?” cheol pouts, and you slap his shoulder, getting up before you lose your courage.

“i’m, uh, i need to go shower,” you say quickly, avoiding their eyes. “thanks for coming over cheollie. i mean. whatever. thanks for coming.”

you’re gone so fast it’s like there’s a gust of wind in your wake, and cheol looks at his best friend before asking, “what the fuck man?”

“i have a proposition for you,” jeonghan begins, “only if you’re up for it...”

finding cheol in your apartment is becoming more common than you’d like. well, it’s not that his presence is unwanted. it’s just that jeonghan likes to stay unpredictable, so you never know when you’ll come home and find seungcheol on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bathroom? you presume jeonghan is up to something, you just don’t know what yet. he hasn’t asked you to kiss cheol again, though. that was...interesting.

you’ve been trying so hard to forget cheol. you were with jeonghan and you knew you loved him, so you wanted to be there for him in every sense. you tried your best to forget about how cheol made you feel, about how you felt for him, but as soon as your skin touched, as soon as your lips grazed his, everything came flooding back. for a good period of your life you thought cheol would someday be your husband. now, after several whirlwind months with jeonghan, you’re conflicted. you love them both, and you don’t know what to do about it.

jeonghan does.

he knows exactly what he’s doing, inviting cheol over so you never have a chance to talk yourself out of seeing him. he knows exactly what he’s doing when he undresses you in the hall before you shower together, leaving your panties on the ground purposefully for cheol to see them later. he knows what he’s doing when he takes the armchair in the living room, leaving you and cheol to sit so awkwardly far from each other on the couch. jeonghan watches in amusement the way your eyes always flick back and forth to each other, never seeming to look when the other is staring. he knows you both want something. he just needs to sit you down and tell you that he wants something too.

one particular night, you had a feeling you’d find cheol when you came home. you expected it at this point, surprised now when jeonghan would tell you it was just him. today your inkling was correct, and you open the door to jeonghan at the couch, casework laid out on the coffee table while he yelled to cheol in the kitchen. you walk over to him first and press a kiss to his cheek, glancing at the work and piecing together that it was budget stuff he and cheol are constantly bickering over. you get up to say hi to the other man, almost colliding with him as he leaves the kitchen, two drinks in hand. you press your hands to his chest to stop him from spilling everything all over you, and you absentmindedly rub over his pecs as you say hi. he smirks down at you, chest warming at your touch. you catch yourself wanting to stand on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek much like you did to your boyfriend, but that’s not appropriate. you excuse yourself so you can go change, leaving the boys to do their work for a while longer. they get through a couple pages before cheol turns to jeonghan expectantly.

“what?” he asks, barely looking at his friend. “pouting at me won’t get you the money for that advertiser you want.”

“when are you gonna tell her?” cheol asks instead, and jeonghan stills. he told cheol about his plan the night of the kiss, and not so shockingly he was on board. they laid out some ground rules, negotiating much like they are now, but cheol was all for it. jeonghan just had to mention it to you, and he was sure it wouldn’t take much convincing.

“we can talk to her tonight if you want,” jeonghan shrugs, focused on the papers in front of him.

“how are you so casual about this man?” cheol scoffs as he leans back in his chair. then in a quieter voice he says, “you ask me to fuck your girlfriend and you keep talking about it like it’s a business deal.”

“we have an agreement,” jeonghan points out. “so it’s kind of like a business deal.”

“but she’s your girlfriend-”

“and she’s your ex,” he cuts cheol off, finally meeting his judgmental gaze. “we both know her really well. we both know she’ll be into it. the agreement was just...a formality.”

“a formality?”

“so no one gets any funny ideas,” jeonghan says sternly, eyes flicking to the hallway when he hears the bedroom door open. soon you’re walking into the living room, a pair of his boxers and an old sweatshirt replacing your work clothes. jeonghan doesn’t miss the way cheol checks you out as you sit down, throwing your legs over jeonghan’s lap even if he was trying to work.

“i can’t believe you still have that,” cheol smiles, speaking to you as jeonghan starts clearing the coffee table. cheol points at your sweatshirt and says, “you stole that from me two years ago, remember?”

“i didn’t steal it, you left it at my apartment!” you argue, and he shakes his head.

“no, i left it at your apartment once and then you wore it to my place like a week later. i took it off of you and hid it so you wouldn’t take it back,” he says, and you can feel yourself blush as jeonghan looks in your direction. “but then when i was packing that apartment up, hm, suddenly that shirt was missing again. guess i finally know where it ended up.”

“oops?” you offer, and cheol laughs.

“i’m glad you kept it,” he says shyly, eyes darting over to jeonghan ever so briefly. he’s holding onto your thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches you with a strange look in his eyes.

“sorry baby, i can go change,” you start to say, sitting up so you can get off the couch, but jeonghan presses a careful hand into your stomach to keep you in place.

“no, keep it on,” he says. “i don’t mind.”

“o-ok,” you stammer out, stomach doing flips at the heat coming off of your boyfriend. he keeps watching you, and after what feels like forever he eventually speaks.

“baby, i have something to ask you.”

“um, should we go to the bedroom then?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“later,” he tells you, hand leaving your stomach to grab your own, lacing your fingers with his. “how do you feel about me and cheol?”

“hannie, we’ve talked about this, i care about you both a lot but i love you,” you emphasize with a squeeze of his hand in yours. he smiles softly as he brings your knuckles to his lips, kissing each one as he speaks.

“not what i meant, but that’s good to hear,” he says lowly. if cheol didn’t already know what he was going to ask he’d be straining to hear, but he’s been imagining this moment for weeks. he could practically speak with jeonghan because he’s so sure of what he’ll say next. “no, baby, i wanted to know if you’d be ok with fucking me and cheol. or letting us fuck you. it’s your choice, really.”

“what?” you breathe out, looking at both men in disbelief. as shocked as you are right now, you can’t deny the way your stomach just flipped.

“we can have sex and he can watch, you two can have sex and i’ll watch, it’s whatever you wanna do,” jeonghan continues, and his eyes darken when he feels your legs shift in his lap. “come on baby, use your words. we know you want this.”

“i-i don’t know,” you whisper, looking to cheol who’s staring back at you like he wants to devour you. it sends a familiar shiver down your spine as you look back to jeonghan, his hand coming up to brush your hair back behind your ear.

“yes you do, pretty girl,” he encourages. “do you want to?” you nod. “words baby.”

“yes, i want to,” you say quietly, and cheol feels his dick twitch already.

“what do you want?” he asks, and he watches proudly as you and jeonghan turn to stare at him. you take a shaky breath as you decide.

“i want you to fuck me cheollie,” you answer, looking at jeonghan as you say, “then i want you hannie.”

“let’s go to our room then baby,” jeonghan says before he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling you up with him as he stands. your lips stay latched onto his as you walk, until you feel a pair of strong hands pulling you by the waist. cheol’s chest collides with your back, kissing from the spot behind your ear all the way down your neck. he’s making little marks, but he’s doing it so quickly you wonder if jeonghan told him not to leave any. when he sucks on the part that always had you shivering, jeonghan takes your open mouth as an opportunity to dive back in, his tongue gliding past your lips as cheol pulls you onto the bed with him. jeonghan keeps kissing you as he drapes his body over yours, cheol brushing more of your hair out of the way so he can kiss along your jaw.

“you’re gonna have to let go of her man,” cheol mumbles, sounding only a little bit pouty. jeonghan pulls away from you with a pop, your lips still pursed as he helps turn you around. you feel jeonghan’s hand at the back of your neck as he pushes your face toward cheol’s your lips meeting his in a tentative kiss. you feel sparks ignite across your chest. despite all the forgetting, despite how you feel for jeonghan, you still missed cheol deeply. he missed you, and he can’t see himself letting you go anytime soon. his hands are holding onto your hips for dear life, which makes what jeonghan’s trying to do a little more difficult. he pushes cheol’s hands up so they settle at your sides, holding onto the soft skin of your stomach. meanwhile jeonghan is pulling his boxers down your legs, hissing when he sees you weren’t wearing any panties.

“damn baby, it’s like you knew what we were planning,” jeonghan smirks, tracing his thumb over your swollen pussy lips. you jerk in cheol’s hold, and he takes this as a chance to separate from your lips, peeking over you at jeonghan to ask, “she not wearing any panties?”

“nope,” jeonghan replies, still watching the way your arousal drips out of you, pulling your lips apart as you try to hold back little moans.

“looks like somebody’s still a little slut for me huh?” cheol asks, whispering into your ear. if jeonghan weren’t watching you react to it right in front of his eyes, he would clock cheol for calling you such a thing. but with a shudder of his own he realizes you like it, your entrance clenching around nothing as cheol continues whispering foul things into your ears. “bet you’ve been thinking about this for weeks. months, maybe? how often did you think about me fucking you?”

“answer him,” jeonghan chimes in, and he hears you let out a shaky breathe before you respond. as soon as you start to speak, jeonghan licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, struggling to reach your bundle of nerves at this angle. he pulls you up by the ass so you’re straddling cheol with your knees tucked up enough to arch your back, pussy on full display for your boyfriend. “sorry baby, i didn’t hear that.”

“just that one t-time,” you reply, jeonghan’s hands tracing around your pussy but never touching where you need him most.

“tell me the truth, baby.”

“a c-couple times,” you admit. “wh-when we were in the kitchen. when, um, when we were in the shower a few days ago. and....today. when i was coming home from work.” jeonghan is quiet, the room eerily still, but then you hear and feel jeonghan spit directly onto your pussy, spreading his saliva around to mix with your arousal.

“what were you thinking about?” jeonghan asks, his fingers massaging your pussy without touching your clit. “tell cheol.”

“today,” he adds. “what were you thinking about today?”

“i was-” you gasp when jeonghan’s fingers trace over your clit, “god, i was thinking about sucking your dick.”

“really?” cheol asks. “always so cock hungry. she like that with you, jeonghan?”

“all the time.”

“you like making your men feel good?” cheol asks as he strokes your hair, and you nod. with his hand still on your head, he softly starts pushing you down, saying, “well then show me what i’ve been missing, love.”

you feel jeonghan back away from you, letting you shift down the mattress until you’re at eye level with the bulge in cheol’s dress pants. you settle on your stomach, fingers tracing over the outline you know so well. as you tease cheol you feel jeonghan between your legs, kneeling behind you so he can grab your waist and hold you in place while he eats you out.

you gasp when you feel jeonghan’s tongue at your core, slowly licking up every drop you let out as you undress cheol. you remember how big he is, taking a small gulp when his cock springs to life after you pull his boxers down. you stroke it a few times but you know he doesn’t like to wait, so you lean forward to suck his tip past your lips. the way he groans makes you clench, and jeonghan continues licking, dipping his tongue to your entrance to let you suck him in as he eats you like a man starved.

“don’t tease me baby,” cheol growls, his hand tangled in your hair as he starts pushing you further down his cock. jeonghan rubs his thumb over your clit and you gag around cheol, so he pulls you away for a second to breathe. “fucking missed this.”

“don’t get used to it,” jeonghan says into your pussy.

“no promises,” cheol replies, sighing as you go back to swallowing him slowly. the foul sounds coming from your throat are no match for the way jeonghan is devouring you. he brings two fingers up and hisses as he watches your pussy take them in, and he moves so he can suck on your clit while he finger fucks you. you keep bobbing on cheol’s cock, whines coming from deep within your chest. cheol takes over for a minute, his hands in your hair guiding you, and he curses as he watches saliva spill past your lips. when jeonghan hits that spot inside you cheol watches in awe as your eyes roll back, moaning over his cock and sending shockwaves through his body. he’s trying his best not to fuck your throat, but he wants so badly to let go. to have his way with you. it’s like jeonghan reads his mind, because he pulls back just long enough to say, “don’t hold back, cheol. let her have it. fuck her like you used to.”

he looks down at you, fucked out gaze and a polite nod confirming you want that too. cheol’s grip tightens, bracing himself before he starts fucking into your mouth recklessly. he’s close, but he won’t come until you do. he just hopes jeonghan is feeling generous.

and he is. jeonghan is always happy to make you come. unlike cheol, he never wants you to hold back. jeonghan always wants you to come, but once you start he may not let you stop. you can feel yourself getting closer, jeonghan’s lips sucking your clit alternating with delicate touches of his tongue all while his fingers keep a steady pace at your core. you make the mistake of looking up at cheol, seeing the way he’s staring at you, and the overwhelming feeling of his eyes on you and jeonghan’s touch sends you over the edge. you start to come, jeonghan coaxing you through it, and as your throat constricts around cheol while you moan, his dick twitches once, twice, and then he’s coming down your throat. jeonghan pulls you off of him while he’s still coming, the last few spurts falling over your lips and chin. cheol watches in shock (and a little arousal?) as jeonghan pulls you to his lips, licking up the bit of come you couldn’t swallow. he kisses you, obviously wanting you to taste yourself on his tongue. cheol can’t believe he’s getting hard again, but when jeonghan drops you back down to his lap you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m not the only needy one, huh?” you tease, flicking at his red tip.

“don’t get cocky baby,” cheol smiles. “we’re just getting started.”

“what do you want to do next?” you ask as you swipe your hand over your chin. you look between them both and jeonghan nods to cheol.

“ask him,” jeonghan replies. you turn to see cheol with an evil smile, and he asks, “you still use the color system?” you and jeonghan nod, but cheol shakes his head. “need you both to say yes.”

“we do,” you say with jeonghan. cheol keeps watching you both, an idea brewing behind those beautiful brown eyes of his.

“have you ever tied her up before?” he asks jeonghan, but his eyes stay on you.

“please,” jeonghan rolls his eyes. “we did that before she was even my girlfriend.”

“where do you keep them?” cheol asks, this time expecting you to answer.

“um, box under the bed,” you reply, and you watch him slide off the mattress to kneel on the floor. he looks for a moment, mumbling about there being multiple boxes down here. “it’s the black one.” he’s quiet for a moment, so you ask, “did you find it?” his head pops up, silk ties in one hand and something else in his other.

“what is this?” he asks jeonghan, and that’s when you see he’s holding a dildo. “your dick doesn’t work or something?”

“that’s not for him,” you answer instead, and cheol looks at you in shock. he looks back at the dildo, then to jeonghan who shrugs, a cute blush on his cheeks. “put it back, unless you want me to show you what we do with it.”

cheol scrambles to return it to its box, crawling back on the bed so he can reach for your shirt. “take this off, baby.” you start to do as he says, and he turns to jeonghan, same fiery look in his eyes as he says, “you too.”

“what?” jeongan sputters, and cheol holds firm.

“get undressed, i’m tying you up too,” he explains, and jeonghan looks at you for support.

“what are you doing cheollie?” you ask, a hand reaching out to cup his cheek. he leans into the touch, kissing your palm before he replies.

“this is your punishment,” he says, looking to jeonghan who’s only wearing his boxers now. “both of you.”

“why?” you ask, checking on jeonghan yourself. he looks fine with this, but the way he’s staying quiet has you worried.

“you both left me,” cheol says, his eyebrows furrowed as he unties the silk. he looks up at you, then jeonghan, and asks, “is this ok? what color?”

“green,” you and jeonghan reply, and you look at your boyfriend again. he smiles at you, blowing a kiss, and cheol tells you both to lay down. he sits between you, and starting with you he leans over your body to take your right wrist and tie it to the headboard. he moves to jeonghan next, and you watch closely at the way jeonghan’s eyes keep flitting down to cheol’s lips. he ties jeonghan’s left wrist to the headboard, leaving each of you a free hand still on the bed. cheol uses what’s left of the silk to tie your left wrist to jeonghan’s right, and he smiles when you instantly grip jeonghan’s hand in yours.

“i’m gonna fuck her, is that ok?” cheol asks, dangerously close to jeonghan’s face. he nods, whispering his approval. cheol looks to you and you nod, trying to reach out for him but only getting so far. cheol chuckles darkly as he undresses fully, your breath catching in your throat at getting to see him bare like this again. you’re staring but you don’t care, drinking in the way cheol’s muscles ripple with every movement. you watch as he grips his cock, bringing it to your clit and tapping it over the sensitive bud a few times. you yelp when he slides his cock through your folds, the tip catching on the hood of your pussy. you want him to do more, but he just watches you squirming beneath him in amusement. “baby?”

“hm?” you reply.

“can you do something for me?”

“anything,” you breath out, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel him rubbing his tip against your clit again. “anything, cheollie. just fuck me, please.”

“needy baby,” he tsks, sitting back as he speaks. “i need you to make hannie feel good for me while i fuck you, can you do that?”

“but i’m tied up-”

“you can still move your hand, can’t you?” he asks, gesturing to your hand on the mattress that’s squeezing onto jeonghan’s for dear life. you shake his hand off and reach over to his lap, smiling when hannie let you trace his cock through his boxers. his hand covers yours, guiding your movements, and cheol mumbles, “yeah, just like that baby.”

“need help, cheollie,” you whimper, cutting through jeonghan’s whines and cheol’s intense focus on his friend’s cock. he looks at you concerned, and you tell him, “i need help getting his boxers off.”

“you can do it on your own,” cheol encourages, and he watches you struggle to pull the waistband of hannie’s boxers down enough for his cock to be free. you look at cheol who reaches for your hand to kiss it softly. saying, “see? you can do anything, pretty girl.”

“say something nice to hannie too,” you pout, and both boys feel their stomachs flip. cheol looks at jeonghan, from his eyes down to his lips and then down to his cock. when he looks back up at his best friend he says, “hannie has a really pretty cock.”

“he does,” you agree, using your mobile hand to reach up and stroke his cheek. his own hand gets in the way and you giggle, but jeonghan is a blushing mess. you don’t get to see him like this often, but when you do, you eat it up.

“keep looking at him like that baby,” cheol says, shifting at the end of the bed. “gonna fuck you now. want him to watch you come undone on my cock.”

“he knows what it looks like,” you whisper, and jeonghan smiles at you. you lean forward to kiss him, pulling back with a gasp when cheol thrusts his cock deep inside you. jeonghan can’t help but moan with you as cheol fucks you, your pussy remembering every inch and every curve. he finds a rhythm quickly, holding you down even though there’s no where for you to go. he tears his eyes away from your pussy swallowing his cock to see you disobeying him, not doing anything to please jeonghan. he reaches for your hand and wraps it around hannie’s cock for you, once again your boyfriend covering your hand with his to help you. he curses under his breath as you jerk him off, and you whine at the feeling of cheol fucking your pussy like he’s never fucked you before.

you can tell you’re dripping, and you feel some of jeonghan’s precum spilling over your hand. you bring it to your mouth to lick clean, jeonghan moaning so pornographically it makes cheol’s dick twitch inside you. you go back to stroking jeonghan off, focused on making him feel good so you can ignore the way you wanna cry because of cheol’s cock. he’s not having that, knowing you’re holding back. he knows your body better than anyone. better than jeonghan, even. he lifts your legs above his shoulders, your thighs squeezed together as he fucks you deeper, and his next thrust rips a scream from deep within your chest. he keeps fucking you, watching as your pace on jeonghan’s cock shows how badly you’re falling apart. if jeonghan weren’t helping you, cheol is sure you would’ve stopped by now. you’re letting them both use you however they want, and cheol can’t help it, he comes again, this time painting your walls with his come.

he keeps fucking you, but he gets a new idea. he starts untying your arm from the headboard, stilling inside you but hissing as he feels you clenching on his cock. he lets you catch your breath before he pulls out, admiring the way his come leaks from your pussy. he grabs you by the hips to push you over to jeonghan, sitting you up over his cock. jeonghan moans when he feels some of cheol’s come drip onto his cock, and cheol whispers in your ear, “fuck him for me, baby. show me how good he makes you feel.”

cheol and jeonghan both watch in awe as you sink down on hannie’s cock. once you’re settled on his lap, cock fully sheathed inside you, you let out a choked moan and cheol feels himself get hard again. he always wanted to see you fuck someone else. you’d talked about it before, but it never happened. he can’t believe he’s watching it now, his best girl and his best friend, and he can see the love in your eyes as you bounce on jeonghan’s cock. you know what drives him crazy, both of you moaning softly as you ride him. you sit for a moment, resting your legs, but cheol slaps your ass and tells you to keep going. you listen, fucking jeonghan like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. his hand reaches up to tweak at your nipples, your hand tied to his trying to push him away.

“what’s wrong, honey?” he asks. “too much?” and you nod. “too bad. if it’s too much then you need to come.”

“want you to come with me hannie,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.

“you know the rules honey. you come first. now if you want to come, come.”

another scream rips from your throat, a few tears falling past your eyes as you ride through your high on jeonghan’s cock. he waits until you’re still on top of him before he starts fucking up into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm jolting you with every thrust. cheol watches as you come again, this time triggering jeonghan’s release. cheol lays down so he can watch your pussy flutter around jeonghan’s cock, both men staring mesmerized at their come dripping out of you. without saying anything they both reach down, swiping fingers through the mess between your legs. you open your mouth, waiting for them to shove their fingers in, moaning at the taste of both of them mixed together. you hiccup when they finally pull back, and cheol helps you carefully lift yourself off of jeonghan. he’s about to say he’ll be right back with a wash cloth, but as soon as you hit the pillow you start drifting off to sleep. cheol looks at jeonghan who shrugs, asking quietly, “can you untie me now bro?”

they’re quiet as cheol undoes the silk, and after jeonghan stretches his sore limbs he shakes you carefully. they both chuckle at the way you wake up, fond smiles staring back at you as you mumble, “what? i’ll kill you.”

“we need to get you cleaned up, honey,” jeonghan whispers before kissing your cheek. he looks to cheol as he says, “will you keep her awake while i start a bath?”

“of course,” cheol nods, watching jeonghan walk to the en suite bathroom. he looks back at you, staring sleepily up at him, and cheol reaches out to stroke your hair. “hey baby.”

“hi cheollie.”

“how you feeling?”

“good,” you hum, watching as cheol moves to lay down next to you. “i missed you.”

“i missed you too,” cheol replies, still playing with your hair. he brushes the sweaty bit away from your forehead, cupping your face after and just admiring you being so close to him again. he never thought he’d get this chance again, and he wants to thank jeonghan for being a freak and making this happen. he also needs to figure out how to make sure nights like this can happen again. now that cheol’s got you, he’s not letting go. he notices it’s been a few minutes, just you and cheol staring at each other, and then jeonghan’s voice pulls cheol back to reality.

“baby?” jeonghan calls, and cheol gets up to help pull you off the bed. you stumble into his chest, wrapping your hands around his waist and waddle walking with him to the bathroom. jeonghan laughs loudly when he sees you two, heart full at the soft smiles you’re sharing and the shy tint on cheol’s cheeks. jeonghan gestures for you, and cheol helps you walk on your shaky legs over to the bathtub. they help you step in, and once you’ve sat down you look to them sadly.

“what’s wrong?” cheol asks, and your pout deepens.

“neither of you are getting in with me?”

“baby, i don’t think the three of us will fit,” jeonghan chuckles, reaching out to stroke your hair just like cheol was a few moments ago. jeonghan carefully traces your features with his thumb as he whispers sweet nothings to you, and cheol moves toward the door. he knows you just had a threesome, but this feels like something he shouldn’t be watching.

“where are you going?” your voice stops him, one foot back in the bedroom.

“um, i was gonna wash up in the guest room,” cheol says. “jeonghan said i could stay there tonight.”

“our bed is big enough for all three of us,” you say as you lay your head on the edge of the bathtub. you yawn as you keep talking, “you can just sleep with us. i mean, technically you already did.”

“um, i don’t want to overstep-” cheol tries to say, but jeonghan cuts him off.

“stay,” he whispers, something in his eyes that cheol can’t read. “she’s right. it’ll be cozy, but there’s plenty of room.”

“i can sleep in the middle so you won’t get cooties from each other,” you chime in, and cheol breathes a sigh of relief.

“ok, if that’s fine,” he nods. “i’m still gonna shower in the other bathroom. you two do whatever you want in here.”

“you heard the man,” he hears you say as he picks his clothes up from the bedroom floor.

“you’ve had enough tonight honey,” jeonghan tells you, and cheol laughs as he hears you dramatically whine, “hannie!!”

once cheol takes a shower, he pulls on the clothes he brought to sleep in and suddenly feels too self aware. he’s in someone else’s home. he’s in your home, your’s and jeonghan’s. he shouldn’t have a space here. he shouldn’t feel as comfortable as he does. he definitely shouldn’t be sharing a bed with you two tonight, but as if jeonghan knew, he’s standing at the door, calling softly, “come on cheol, y/n keeps whining that you’re not in bed yet.”

“she gets needy when she’s tired,” cheol points out, and jeonghan nods enthusiastically.

“i know,” he agrees. “but it’s kinda sweet, isn’t it?”

“jeonghan?” cheol says quietly, and his friend steps into the room to hear him better. “thank you. for trusting me. with her. with this.”

“sure,” he nods, visibly nervous, but not for the reasons cheol assumes. “i mean, you’re the expert here, really. i just. i’m glad you were up for it. she really liked it. i..really liked it.”

cheol is about to say something else when his phone ringing stops him. he chuckles and holds it up for jeonghan to see, who rolls his eyes. cheol answers, speaking loud enough for you to hear him down the hall. “what do you want?”

“is jeonghan with you?” you ask, and cheol hums confirmation. then they both hear you yelling from the bedroom, “then come back here!!!”

“i’m getting water, do you need anything?” jeonghan asks as they both leave the guest room.

“i’m good,” cheol waves him off, and jeonghan says he’ll be right back. cheol walks back to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway. you’re on your phone, but you let it fall to your chest when you hear a presence at the door. “hey. jeonghan’s getting water.”

“ok,” you reply, scooting over to make room for him on your side of the bed. “come lay down.”

“is it against the rules if i kiss you goodnight?” cheol asks jokingly, but you shake your head no, and jeonghan adds from the doorway, “no, it would actually be kinda rude if you didn’t.” cheol watches jeonghan walk around him, placing a glass of water on your nightstand. he kneels on the bed to reach your lips, kissing you softly before he walks around to his side of the bed, leaving you to look at cheol expectantly. he bashfully gets on the bed, on instinct grabbing you by the waist as he lays down. he looks at you before leaning in, kissing you softly and whispering good night before he pulls away again.

“night cheollie,” you whisper back, reaching for jeonghan behing you. you manage to pull his arm around your chest, tucking it under your own arm so his hand is at your chest. you press a kiss to his knuckles and whisper, “night hannie,” and you knock out pretty soon after that.

“are you gonna turn the light off?” jeonghan asks, and cheol notices he’s been watching him. your head is so low on the pillows that jeonghan can stare directly at cheol, and he watches as his friend turns around to flip the light off. cheol returns, finding jeonghan’s eyes still watching him.

“you waiting for a goodnight kiss or something?” cheol teases, and jeonghan shakes his head.

“not unless you want one,” he challenges, and cheol stares back, mind obviously somewhere else. “what’s wrong?”

“why her?” he asks quietly. “why did you start dating y/n, of all people? i’m happy for you, please don’t think i’m not, but...it hurt, finding that out. it hurt from both sides. so..why?”

“because i missed you,” jeonghan whispers back, something sad in his voice. “i think we both did, and something about this, about us, just made it seem like you were here.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“anymore questions?”

“not right now, no,” cheol shakes his head, hair falling into his eyes. “but it’s...good to know.”

“we can talk about it more tomorrow,” jeonghan says, situating himself so he’s more comfortable. he closes his eyes before he says, “you need to rest cheol.”

“yeah,” he sighs, knowing he’s got too many thoughts floating around for that to be a possibility. “night jeonghan.”

you wake up in the morning to sounds of snores. usually it’s just jeonghan’s soft, airy snores you wake up to, but today it’s like there’s a thunderstorm happening. that’s when you remember cheol, and as if on cue, his arms tighten around your waist and pull you closer to his chest. jeonghan’s face was laying on your shoulder, so he falls slightly and wakes himself up. he blinks up at you a few times, smiling when he finds you staring back.

“morning baby,” he whispers.

“morning my love,” you reply, and he kisses along your shoulder. “how’d you sleep?”

“good,” he nods. “i didn’t wake up at all, which is surprising with snore master over there.”

“i can hear you,” cheol grumbles. “go back to sleep.”

“no,” you and jeonghan say in unison, and cheol groans.

“you’re annoying.” you roll over so you can wrap your arms around cheol, jeonghan grabbing onto your waist and propping his head on your shoulder. cheol peeks an eye at you both and says, “you’re annoying. but kinda cute too.”

“who, me or hannie?” you ask, and cheol pretends to think about it.

“both?”

“sweet,” jeonghan smiles, kissing your shoulder again as he slides out of bed. “i’m making coffee. you gotta get up if you want any.”

“how long did it take him to figure that one out?” cheol asks while you watch jeonghan get dressed.

“like the second date?” you guess, and jeonghan nods to confirm. you look back at cheol and say, “he’s pretty smart. he also learned not to interrupt me when i’m reading like way earlier than you.”

“no fair, i told him that,” cheol pouts, and jeonghan whines back that he wouldn’t remember something like that. they bicker back and forth, cheol’s pout getting more and more pronounced. you lean forward and kiss him mid-whine, stilling nervously with your lips still on his. you look around and find jeonghan watching you, and he shrugs.

“if you weren’t gonna shut him up i was,” he says as he walks out the door. “no more kissing without me though, i’ll feel left out!”

“so he’s ok with us kissing,” cheol smiles at you, and you smack his shoulder.

“we fucked last night, yeah he’s fine with us kissing.”

“well! that was last night,” cheol starts, fiddling with your hair like he always did when he was unsure of what to say next.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he looks up at you sadly.

“i can’t leave,” he whispers. “i don’t...i can’t be without you again.”

“cheollie,” you sigh, threading your hand through his hair. “let’s go talk about it, ok? you won’t lose us again, i promise.”

cheol follows you like a lost puppy into the kitchen. he nods politely when you ask if he wants coffee, and his heart flips when you hand him a mug made exactly how he likes it. jeonghan’s got yours ready, so you all stand around the kitchen drinking quietly. you’re staring at cheol, and his eyes keep nervously flicking over to jeonghan. finally you turn and reach for jeonghan’s hand.

“hannie, i have a question,” you start. jeonghan grabs your hand in his and kisses it before telling you to go on. “is it ok if cheol stays a few more days?”

“a few more days?” he asks, looking to cheol for confirmation. he doesn’t want to meet jeonghan’s eyes, but when he does, he relaxes instantly. that thing cheol couldn’t read last night is back. the way jeonghan’s looking at him right now is the same way jeonghan looks at you. that gives him enough confidence to nod, clearing his throat as he says, “yeah, um, i could stay in the guest room? but. i was wondering. if we could maybe...”

“date?” jeonghan finishes. “like, the three of us?”

“maybe?” cheol squeaks out.

“sure,” jeonghan nods, looking to you and then back to cheol. “you wanna go out today?”

after a quick breakfast at home, you all get ready to run some errands before the actual “date” jeonghan claims to have planned. in reality it’s just dinner and a movie, his treat, but he keeps talking it up like it’s gonna be the best night ever. and maybe it will be. you never knew you could feel so loved, but you realize now that being with jeonghan and cheol gives you more than enough. you happily watch your boys argue over the best snacks at the grocery store, cheol swearing up and down that he knows what you like best while jeonghan argues that maybe your tastes have changed over the years. they’re both right, though. you like both. all. put everything in the cart, boys included. you’ve never been happier, and seeing the two of them together shows you how much they care for each other, too.

one of the stops on your list of errands was, surprise, shopping for a new outfit. you needed something to wear for a big investor’s dinner coming up, and it was funny to watch the boys bicker over who would pay for your dress. it was also very distracting and borderline disrespectful to have them comment on every piece you tried on, their comments getting bolder and both men getting antsier the longer you sat them through this torture. you told them you were doing one final sweep of the store, hoping to find something that really jumps out, and when you return you push them both into separate changing rooms to try on some pieces you found with your boys in mind. it gives you a moment alone to try on the last dress and admire it without any heckling, but when jeonghan steps out of his dressing room he lets out a low whistle.

“you look hot as fuck, baby,” he tells you, arms wrapping around your waist and his head falling to your shoulder. his hands drag across your stomach, admiring the beading, and he tries moving a sneaky hand up beneath your chest. the sound of cheol coming out of his dressing room diverts your attention, and you make grabby hands for him to join you in front of the mirror.

there you stand, smiling proudly at your boys. you look gorgeous, and they look...confused? cheol looks at himself in the mirror, then at jeonghan, then turns to you and asks, “did you make us try on the same outfit?”

“what?” you laugh, pulling jeonghan from behind you so he can stand at your side. with both of them on display, now it’s easy to see that you gave them the same clothes. you’re almost drooling at the way that they both effortlessly make a pair of slacks and a button up look so sexy. you grab their hands closest to you, swinging them as the boys stare at their reflection.

“his thighs look better than mine,” jeonghan points out.

“sure, but your clavicle is very tantalizing,” you tease, kissing his cheek. when you turn back to the mirror, you see jeonghan’s blush and give his hand an extra squeeze.

“why’d you do this?” cheol pouts, still looking at the three of you in the mirror. “i feel silly.”

“sorry, i’ve just always wanted two boyfriends,” you start out, “because i want to dress them like twins.”

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