#hear the scene dj

[billiewena]

FOUR YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020, as summed up by Supernatural

past recaps: year one / year two / year three / year four

full context and sources below:

various explanations + resources/sources/extra reading on this year's recap:

balls deep: misha collins says the quiet part out loud at Cross Roads 8 Supernatural Convention, saying "if the CW wasn't so homophobic dean and cas would've been balls deep for sure" at a con (x) (x) (x)

garthbenny canon: supernatural actors DJ Qualls (who played hunter-turned-werewolf Garth Fitzgerald) and Ty Olsson (who played the vampire Benny Lafitte) reveal they're married, delighting crack shippers like myself everywhere (x)

spn spooky picture book: official supernatural children's picture book is released, retconning things like john winchester as a happy father figure and castiel being their cowardly childhood friend who sorta hangs around (x) (x)

boop button: tumblr introduces a feature people enjoy for once for april fool's day and halloween and allows users to boop each other, spn bloggers re-awake like sleeper agents to use it in full force (x) (x)

bedlund speaks on destiel: former spn writer ben edlund goes on a tweet fest replying to fans, talking about destiel multiple times including this profound tweet (x)

clear text, not subtext: jensen speaks out again on the confession at Purcon 8, this time taking a more open stance on how the relationship was textual, his take on dean's feelings about cas's feelings, and how the scene with cas deserved a resolution (x)

bury your gays: famed author chuck tingle (known for his plethora of highly specific and delightfully inclusive, if strange, indie erotica novels) publishes his second mainstream horror novel, inspired by TV network studios' infamous history of censoring LGBT relationships and openly killing off queer characters. In a non-subtle nod to supernatural fans, the main character is named misha. (sidenote: did end up reading this and this book is actually really good commentary on the industry in general and really good, 10/10 recommend) (x) also someone got the book signed by misha, to further break the fourth wall (x)

tracker: jensen ackles begins starring in a CBS show where he is basically csoplaying dean winchester, with the show featuring many non-subtle spn references (i.e. him pretending to almost get in an impala before going to his truck, characters wearing spn necklaces, etc.) (x) (x) (x) (special shout-out to clarice @youre-only-gay-once for expertly tracking the tracker show and these easter eggs, highly recommend their tag for their show)

cw's walker cancelled: fans rejoiced upon hearing the cancellation news for jared's post-supernatural show, walker, a remake of "walker texas ranger." in addition to generally being a copaganda show for the notoriously racist texas rangers, jared's inspiration for the show's direction caused much concern. the actor himself said the show was inspired by the US border crisis, not by the immigrant families affected by the separation and internment, but instead wanting exploring the POV of the law enforcement agents working at the border and the moral dilemmas they had to face (x)

pro-destiel Wonder Woman: Lynda Carter (aka the iconic and beloved original actress for Wonder Woman, not the z*onist one) says she could "go for some Destiel" when promoting #GeeksandNerdsforHarrisWalz and Misha's involvement (x) the rest of the spn cast and original Showrunner Kripke were also a big part of this event

chili's backfire: the chain restaurant chili's drags destiel while interacting with 9-1-1 bucktommy shippers on twitter, immediately gets backfire. notably, their stock takes a dip the next day. coincidence? maybe so, maybe not (x) (x)

samgirl voting fraud: "who is the gayest spn character" tumblr poll surprisingly gets heated, with a blogger straight-up admitting they used a bot on the "castiel vs. sam" poll to rig the poll in sam's favor, which they apparently also did for w*ncest in another poll in the past, and posting a guide on how anyone could do the same. luckily democracy wins in this one instance and castiel prevails anyways, leading to an also contested "castiel vs. charlie bradbury" round (x) (x)

pink pony jarpad: jared is spotted at lesbian pop star chappell roan's set at a festival, un-likely place for him to be (x) also may have been one of the "boring" people called out by chappell? (x)

pro-kamala castiel: in a last-ditch effort to get out the vote, misha uses the power of castiel photo ops to campaign for harris-walz and even shouts-out destiel. I feel depressed writing this sentence, if you've made it this long in your read and you're in the states I hope you're doing alright! maybe by the time I wake up things will be a little different though. (x)

[dollarbils]

believe what you want | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, shows up at your party, but fails in expressing her intentions.

warnings. fighting, glass/ blood kinda, degrading, smut, strap

masterlist

the music echoed in the hallways of your house, reminding you of the shit show going on downstairs. originally you’d planned for about one hundred people, but someone had obviously tipped your bouncer because you found yourself hosting a crowd close to five hundred people.

you were outside on the phone, desperately trying to reason with your security guard who’d seemingly disappeared. something about not being payed enough for a party of five hundred.

“fuck i’ve gotta go.” you hurriedly shoved your phone in your pocket, following the sound of broken glass coming from inside of your house.

“what the fuck happened?” you pushed your way through the crowd before you reached the sight of the black haired girl on the floor, shattered glass surrounding her. she was engrossed in an ongoing fight between her and a tall man, one you’d quickly recognised to be your soon to be ex boyfriend. and another man in a brown jacket, spitting insults at the both of them. you didn’t care to understand the situation.

“billie?” you shouted but to no avail, she couldn’t hear you, neither of them could. you texted the dj to tell him to cut the music. when he did, everyone went silent, huddling around the scene, various pulling out their phones to record.

“fuck.” she breathed when her eyes met yours. you reached your hand out to help her up, and her eyebrows furrowed. she studied your expression, attempting to figure out how mad you were, and wether she should engage with you or not.

“hey, go take care of her i’ll clean this up.” your friend brushed past you and you mouthed a thank you when the music started up again and everyone turned away.

“hey, look, i’m so-” her words tumbled out in a cloud of regret but you cut her off.

“shut up.” you pulled her arm, gesturing for her to follow you to the bathroom. on your way you caught sight of the bouncer and waved for him to come over.

“i’ll pay you whatever you want to be payed just get that guy in the brown jacket out of here, please.” he nodded and billie shook her arm out of your grasp. you glared at her in an effort to convince her into coming with you.

“i’m totally fine.” she huffed, when you raised an eyebrow. mocking her subtly.

“you’re bleeding, idiot.” she rolled her eyes and followed you to the bathroom.

“no need to be so rude.” she sat herself on the toilet as you fumbled through the cabinets, finding your first aid kit.

“you crashed my party.” you retorted, in disbelief. she’d clearly woken up and decided to be sassy today.

“you didn’t invite me.” she smirked up at you, but her expression fell when you shoved the kit into her arms, and made a stance to leave.

“you’re not gonna help me?” she chirped, somewhat teasingly, it only irritated you however.

“nope.” your hand reached for the door handle but her words halted your movements again.

“at least keep me company?” she pleaded, and when you turned to meet her, she was genuine.

“what’s your problem, billie?” she froze, not having expected to be called out so abruptly.

“huh?” it was a stupid ‘huh’, she was testing your patience.

“you crash my party, start a fight with my boyfriend, and then expect me to be nice to you.” she squinted her eyes, clearly not liking the accusation.

“you insisted on helping me.” she was unbothered by your frustration, demonstrating her lack of compassion for you in the moment.

“can you believe i didn’t want you to bleed on my white carpet?” sarcasm coated your words.

“i just think you wanted some alone time with me.” she winked and you looked away, trying to calm down before you lashed out.

“why where you fighting with him?” you ignore her previous comment, leading her to fantasise about why.

“he started it!” she said defensively.

“i know for a fact that’s not true.” she stared at you for a second, before concluding it would be useless to lie.

“okay fine, but you won’t like it.” she admitted.

“let me guess, he was cozying up to another bitch.” she was visibly surprised by your deduction, questions raiding her mind.

“don’t ask.” you said simply.

“but-”

“no.” you ran the tap, splashing your face with some water, needing the heat in your cheeks to falter.

“he doesn’t deserve you.” she said quietly, the attitude in her voice now gone.

“don’t you think i know that? it’s none of your business, billie. besides, why do you care?” the question was one you were eager to learn the answer to.

“i just..” she trailed off, packing the first aid kit back up, having finished attending to her various cuts.

“what? are you jealous?” she rolled her eyes again, pissing you off even more.

“then what is it? what could possibly make you crash my party and try to fight my boyfriend.”

“stop calling him that.” she demanded, ignoring the rest of your words as she put her hands on either side of the sink, trapping you.

“so you are jealous.” it was more of a statement rather than a question.

“believe what you want.” her eyes were still and cold, pushing you away, despite her body inching closer.

“god you’re such a dick.” the insult didn’t faze her, she knew it was true.

“i know.” her hips pressed harshly against yours as her hand grasped your chin firmly, bringing her lips to yours. as she kissed you, her body swayed, making you aware of what was beneath her jeans.

“oh really? you just came here to fuck?” her eyes bore into your own, as her cold fingers danced closer to your pussy, resting on the skin of your lower stomach. she moved her lips to your ear, kissing the skin around it as she dipped her hand under your jeans, palming your clothed heat.

“i know you want it too, baby.” your gasps fell from your lips in a frenzy and her fingers brushed your clit, teasing the skin of your thighs momentarily. “tell me to stop.”

her lips wandered your neck, leaving the skin wet and bruised, sure to turn purple.

“say it.” she repeated as she sucked on yours skin and pinched the lips of your clit, the fabric of your thong doing little to stop her.

“tell me to stop.” she said another time before her fingers ran across the wetness surrounding your hole.

“fuck, billie.” you clenched on nothing, moving your hips in attempt for some friction.

“hm?” her fingers left you immediately and she brought them up to your lips as she watched you suck them.

“suddenly you’re so needy? pathetic.” your cries of protest were muffled by her fingers, as she shoved them further down your throat, gags following when your eyes watered.

“tell me what you want, mama.” her wet fingers left your mouth and gripped your hips, pressing you firmly against the sink. your sanity had returned and you refused to give her the satisfaction of your submission.

“no?” she tutted, disappointed but accepting it as a challenge. she spun you around so that your ass was pressed against the bulge in her jeans. a choked groan left you and she chuckled. she unbuckled her belt and unzipped her jeans before doing the same to yours. she lifted your legs and attached them to her hips, guiding your back into an arch as your cheek reached the cold mirror.

“billie, please.” the plea came out raspy, when you felt her fingers circling the skin around your thong, before she pulled it off completely.

“what? you want my dick?” her bottom lip stuck out, mocking you.

“mhm.” it was a defeated grumble and she grinned when she heard it.

“what makes you think you deserve it?” she pushed the tip close to your entrance, teasing you with it, watching how your body shuddered in response.

“come on, baby. beg for it.” she snarled as she continued to tease you with the tip of her strap.

���billie, pleasee.” you whined, desperation consuming your body. your mind was in a haze, all you could think of was her.

“there’s my girl.” she let herself sink into you the base of the strap hitting the place of her arousal perfectly. her grunts traveled to your core, a knot forming quickly, building up the deeper she thrusted into you.

“fuck, you look so pretty.” she gasped, as you bounced on her dick, your hands holding you up on the sink as she continuously rammed into you from behind. she slapped your ass a couple times and swiftly bit her lip when she saw your reaction.

“billie,” it was a loud whine, signaling you were close to your release. her face was buried in your neck as her hands held your hips firmly, preventing you from moving them.

“not yet, baby.” she reached for your face, and directed it so that you were facing the mirror.

“i want you to look at me while you cum. want to see how hard i’m fucking my girl.” her words sent you straight to heaven, fogging up your mind as your tears clouded your vision.

you snapped out of it when you heard someone call your name from outside the door. billie’s movements faltered but she quickly returned to her forceful thrusts when she realised who it was.

“scream for me baby, wanna hear you. want him to hear you.” she slurred, hitting your cervex as you clenched harder, a euphoria washing over you as you released.

“billie!” loud moans strung from your mouth as she helped you ride out your orgasm. thoughts of your boyfriend long gone.

“say my name again.” she pulled out of you completely before thrusting back into your sensitive pussy. your knuckles turned white.

“fuck, bils.”

“billie? i swear to god if you don’t open the fucking door right now!” his voice boomed from the other side of the door as he started knocking furiously.

“or what?” she shouted back, your lip about to bleed from your teeth sinking into it, trying desperately to stay quiet.

“where’s my fucking girlfriend?” he hit the door multiple times as he spoke.

“she’s in here with me!” your eyes widened and you met hers in the reflection.

“i don’t believe you.” he called and billie made more of an effort to make you moan, toying with your sensitive clit.

“believe what you want.” she smirked before pulling the strap out and forcing you onto your knees. the cold bathroom tiles creating goosebumps on your skin.

“open up.” she gestured to your lips as you took the strap in your mouth. you gripped her hips to control her thrusts, but you soon failed when she hit the back of your throat.

“so sexy,” she bit her lip, watching yours eyes water. her head fell back when the strap hit her clit and she started grinding on it. your groans were muffled by the strap which brought her to the edge, and she came. as she removed the strap you palmed your jaw, feeling a slight ache.

“still jealous?” you asked her and she chuckled.

“i wasn’t jealous.” she defended.

“clearly.” you muttered sarcastically, putting your jeans and underwear back on.

note: i really hope this isn’t dog shit and that you enjoy, i’ve missed all of you it’s been like 3 days

[madridfangirl]

I'm taking you home NOW!

(Jude Bellingham one-shot)

Summary: Jude sees his girlfriend at a club, tries to control himself as he watches her have the time of her life, but ultimately decides to take the matter in his own hands.

Inspired from an anon request.

Impromptu plans with the team was not a frequent occurrence for Jude. Their schedules just didn’t allow that.

So when the training was cancelled for the next morning and the team was wrapping up from Courtois’ documentary release event, a smaller (younger) group decided to extend the festivities of the night. 

That’s how they ended up in the private section of a high-end club in Madrid. It had a separate entrance, separate kitchen and a whole separate floor for the more ‘esteemed’ guests. With a tinted glass wall separating them from the section below. The glass was see-through from their side - they could enjoy the atmosphere outside but still be hidden from outside view, keeping their privacy intact. 

They had arrived late and the place was already buzzing. Music at high-decibels, along with the energy and vibe. 

As they waited for their large table to be set up, Jude looked through the glass at the upbeat scenes on the dance floor. The place was fairly crowded, yet no one seemed to mind. The DJ was top-notch, pausing the music in the middle to get people to sing along. Rallying them into stadium-like Mexican-waves. Taking their requests. Getting them to dedicate songs to each other. The mood was lit AF.

Just when he was about to turn around to find a seat, his eyes landed on a red dress. A very familiar fitted red dress. On a very familiar body.

The girl had his back to him, leaning over the counter to get the attention of the fit bartender amidst all the noise and crowd.

Once he noticed her, the bartender leaned even closer, trying to make out the drink she was asking for. That went on for a good while, and he finally grinned at her, pulling out the tequila glasses.

Jude was frozen in his spot. He didn’t need her to turn around to know that it was his girlfriend that the bartender was entertaining. That back, those curves, that hair, that ass, those legs - he could pick her out of a line-up in his sleep. And that dress. He had bought that fucking body-hugging dress for her. Something he hadn’t seen her in yet. Until now. 

He was too occupied to hear his teammates calling him from behind. Ultimately, Cama had to come over & smack his arm to get his attention. Before he could follow Jude’s line of sight, the boy recovered quickly, an impeccable smile donning his face. Most of the seats were already taken up. Jude had to find one with a clear view of the floor. So he had to manoeuvre (practically manhandle) Fran away from a corner seat, plopping next to Brahim. A confused looking Fran walking away to find another spot. 

What the fuck was she still doing at the counter? How long does it take to pour a fucking tequila shot? How was this guy a professional?

Maybe he’s taking it slow on purpose.

The bastard.

He craned his neck to get a better view. The guy was holding out salt & lemon in front of her, as she downed her shot. Smiling widely when she appeared to thank him. Jude nearly puked at the sight.

He felt a smack on his arm again, turning around to see Brahim waving the drinks menu in his face.

‘Whatever you’re having.’

He quickly dismissed the interruption & turned around, but she was gone. And the bartender was gone.

Before his mind could run wild, he thankfully placed her making her way through the crowd to the rest of her group, falling happily into her roommate’s arms as she lost her balance. Roma steadied her, and the girls giggled along like maniacs.

Yeah, she was drunk. Pissed drunk. And Jude knew how silly & carefree she got when she was so out of it. But at least she was with Roma, and a couple of other girls Jude could recognise from her pics. Looked like a fun girls night.

They had missed quite a few because work had been super hectic. Even this morning she was certain it would be a long night in office. But looked like something opened up for them as well. 

Good for her. She deserved to let her hair down once in a while. And paint the town red.

If only she could do that with him.

Once his profile shot through the roof since the world cup, and especially since the swashbuckling move to Madrid, Jude had been craving the everyday things he used to be able to do earlier. Like chilling at public places - clubs, cafes, amusement parks - without causing a stampede.

And since she had come into his life, the craving to go out & do regular couple stuff had intensified manifolds. But they had kept their relationship private, wanting to avoid the madness that would come from people getting to know. He couldn’t even take her out for a nice meal - some camera somewhere was always catching him. People constantly filming on their phones, even in the private sections sometimes.

Watching her live freely right now made his heart full - like he was living vicariously through her.

But it also made him ache - wanting to join her & be a normal 20 year old boy. To put his arms around her in a way that leaves no doubt that she was taken. If only he could have that once, just once.

The need to have her dance like that with him, swaying her hips against his body, was physically painful. Not that he was much of a dancer but he knew she’d make it work. Maybe he could throw a small party at his house, invite a few teammates who didn’t have a loose mouth and could keep a secret. And who had girlfriends / partners. Brahim & Fede could be good options. Yeah - he’d try to convince her. They could all dress up & have some fun together. Like regular young couples.

While his mind concocted all these wishful plans, he subconsciously downed every drink Brahim put in front of him. On to his fourth one now. In less than 15 mins.

‘You may wanna slow down, buddy.’

No response.

‘Jude.’

No response.

Jude had not turned his face fully, to not draw attention, but his eyes were still focused on her through his peripheral vision. He had been casually turning around and nodding in the middle to appear interested, but mentally he wasn’t present.

‘Boss might drop you in the next game. For Ceballos.’

Still no response.

Brahim laughed & elbowed him in the ribs.

‘Owww what the fuck?’

‘Who is she & where is she?’

‘What? I don’t understand.’

‘Yeah, cut the crap. Someone has clearly caught your attention. Now who’s the one?’

Brahim rose from his seat to try to look behind Jude’s frame but Jude caught him & pulled him down. Others looked at them curiously but Jude just laughed it off, saying he was drunk. They bought it; they were drunk too.

But not Brahim. He was a tanker.

‘Don’t.’

Jude gritted out slowly. 

‘Oh boy - you know her from before don’t you?’

Who the fuck made him this smart in such matters? He wished one of the other boys were there instead - they would have laughed it off with ‘I bet she’s hot’ or something. 

But not Brahim. He caught on. He observed as Jude shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to make a decision. It was like watching a golden retriever attempting to do trigonometry. 

Brahim laughed. Jude narrowed his eyes at him. The group called for another round of shots, still oblivious.

‘What’s funny?’

‘Your pathetic cover up.’

‘Oh shut up.’

Jude gulped his 5th drink - he wasn’t even sure which mix it was.

‘I…it’s complicated, mate.’

Brahim’s face softened. 

‘Hey, it’s fine. Don’t need to say anything. Let’s talk when you are ready.’

Jude wanted to. Talking to someone on the team would really help. They were the only ones who would get it. Maybe he could get some useful advice on how to handle the public aspect of the relationship. Brahim was just the guy for it.

But, not now. His mind was too scattered with her thoughts now to have this deep conversation.

‘Thanks.’

Brahim smiled & nodded softly.

‘Must be a special lady.’

Jude smiled back. 

‘But seriously, get a hold of yourself if you don’t want others to notice.’

The boys grinned at each other.

Jude turned to admire his special lady once more, who was waving to the music happily. A big smile on her face. Making her look all the more beautiful. The red looked gorgeous on her - the dress, the heels, the ruby lips. 

He couldn’t wait for the night to be over so he could take her home. 

With that thought, he let her be. And went back to his mates. For real this time.

Next 30 mins passed peacefully. 

And then, the DJ decided to screw with Jude. By playing salsa tracks. A romantic dance. A partner dance.

The floor cleared quickly and only the couples remained, dancing to the fast tunes in a close embrace. And, just as his luck would have it, he saw his girlfriend emerge on the floor with Roma, both giggling uncontrollably.

The girls held each other close, and started dancing like the other couples, taking turns on leading their partner.

Jude could’t take his eyes off Ananya. His breath hitched when he saw her spinning & shimmying & dipping in that atrociously tight dress, which kept inching up her thighs with her highly paced moves. She didn’t even notice. But he did. And he knew other guys around her would notice too.

If only he could build a shield around her. A barrier which no one could see past. 

If only he could hold her tight and be the person she was dancing so sensually with. Separating her from the crowd, their wandering eyes and sweaty bodies.

Unaware of how she was torturing her boyfriend, Ananya kept dancing like her life depended on it.   Swaying in sync with the beats, drawing attention to her firm round butt. 

Jude looked down at his pants, as if willing his body to behave. And counted back from 100 to 1 to not do something stupid. Like walking over to her right now.

She’d probably murder him, but at least this torture would end.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, the music moved to lifts. The couples followed the beats, and the men lifted their partners off the ground in a variety of moves.

The girls obviously couldn’t do that. And Jude breathed a sigh of relief. But it was too soon.

An ugly, disgusting asshole approached Ananya, offering his sweaty, small hand to be her partner. She obviously refused, like Jude knew she would. But that split second was enough for Jude to lose his shit.

The longer that pig stayed around her, not getting the clear no, the harder Jude gripped his glass. Brahim covered for his friend, knowing he was out of it right now. 

The girls smartly decided to move to their table. Where their bags were. And Jude took the opportunity to dial her immediately. 

He saw her pull out her phone and smile adorably when she saw it was him calling. Both moved away from their tables, making excuses, finding a corner in their respective sections. His eyes still firmly following her.

‘Heyy babyy.’

She slurred on the line, while blowing kisses through the phone. Jude was unmoved.

‘A bra would have been nice with this dress.’

It hit her like a bucket of cold water.

‘Erm….what?’

She looked around rapidly, the movement making her head spin.

‘Especially if you intended to dance like that.’

She didn’t know if this was real or if she was hallucinating.

‘How did…where are you?’

‘Look up - straight ahead.’

She did. It looked like plain glass but she could make out enough lights beyond it to figure that it was a section divider. 

Ofcourse. 

How long was he watching her? What was that tone?

And why was it making her nervous? She was just minding her own business. Having fun. What’s wrong with that?

‘Meet me outside in 2 minutes. Ask for the back door.’

‘What?’

‘We are going home right now, Ananya.’

She was crazy about him. But that boy could be so pigheaded at times. 

‘No.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me. Not calling it a night yet.’

‘Oh yes you are.’

She loved his domineering attitude in bed, but not so much in day to day life. 

‘Jude - I barely get time with my friends.’

‘You work with them. You are with them all day. But your nights are mine.’

Despite being mad, that sent a shiver down her spine. Darn that bastard.

But no - she’ll hold her ground here. She won’t give in. He needed to learn that he can’t always get his way. And he most certainly can’t boss her around.

‘Look - I’m gonna need 2 hours, yeah? How about I come to yours after?’

‘How about I come down, throw you over my shoulder & take you with me?’

She should be mad. She should be raving mad. But her skin started to heat at his words. Her treacherous body refusing to comply with the commands of her brain. 

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

She whispered, hating how small her voice sounded.

‘Try me.’

His was cocky and confident, as always. That made her recover quickly.

‘Do that - and you can forget about taking me home. Not tonight. Not any night.’

Heavy breathing at both ends. Jude changed tact, not one to accept defeat.

‘I sat here watching you, wanting you, waiting for you. Paid no heed to my friends. And you’re picking yours OVER ME?’

He made it sound like the worst tragedy in the world. Like she had wronged him in a thousand different ways. She saw right through the attempted manipulative wordplay. It may have worked with his other admirers, not with her.

‘Gosh I’m not picking anyone over you. Just wanna chill here some more with my friends.’

Jude being Jude pushed further, like he always did when he wanted something badly. Giving up was not in his dictionary.

‘Yeah? Chill with that bartender maybe? Have some more shots?.’

Ananya stilled. She did flirt a teeny bit with that guy to get her drink faster, and she could tell the guy reciprocated disproportionately. Giving her extra shots on the house. But she quickly left after, nipping it in the bud. It was all quite harmless, really.

Then why was guilt washing over her in waves? Why couldn’t she come up with any half decent response?

Also, how the fuck did Jude catch that from a distance? 

Jude could see he had hit the nail on the head. This was his window to double down.

‘Outside. NOW.’

‘1 hour.’

‘Nope.’

’Ok 50 mins. Take it or leave it.’

’15 mins - and I get a strip tease when we get home.’

‘Please Jude.’

‘Save that for when I pound you into the mattress tonight.’

She had to sit down, unable to handle his onslaught in her drunken state. Feeling hot all over with just his words.

’30 mins. Final.’

She needed some consolation win.

He stayed quiet for a few moments.

’30 mins. And strip tease.’

She evaluated silently, realising that’s the longest window she’d get. Before he actually does something stupid to draw attention to them. 

‘Fine. But I’m going for brunch tmrw with my friends.’

They usually spent Saturdays cooped up in his bedroom since he had late training. Not tomorrow though - she’d take pride over pleasure. And she really wanted to take him down a peg.

‘Sure - if you can walk.’

‘Oh you…….you little……..I HATE YOU.’

‘Then why are you getting wet right now?’

She nearly dropped her phone. At his audacity, and the fact that he was fucking right. 

Tonight was going to be a long night, and he’d make her make it up to him. Make her be a ‘good girl’ for him.

Somehow, despite crumbling on her will to resist him, it didn’t feel like much of a loss. Because she knew he’d make it worth her while too. Like he always did.

...............................................................................................

I could not stop thinking about this scenario & wrote this in the little time I got this weekend 🥹

Thank you dear anon - this was too good to not be written :)

For those who don't know, the characters are from Star Crossed Lovers.

Parts of Part 2 of this one-shot covered in Ch 12.

[princessbrunette]

shittysoundcloudrapper!jj was persuasive and he knew it. it took barely any convincing anyway, his pretty best friend was just so whipped for him.

“look all i’m sayin’ is all this could be yours.” he fans the money out, staring you down with the ghost of a smirk as you lounge on his bed. you push your mouth into the corner, considering his offer as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. it’s not that you didn’t trust jj, you did — you’d just never been so exposed before. his friends would hear this song, strangers would hear this song — you almost couldn’t believe he was asking to record your moans as a backing track for his beat. as you think, your smile grows — the blonde creeping towards you until he’s stood right infront of you, looming over your curled seating position.

“c’mon mama, you smell that?” he caresses your face with the wad of money, running it over your cheek and beneath your nose. “yeah. that’s that paper. hard earned benjys. you wanna help me out, don’t you? know you do.” he cooes and you’re hypnotised, nodding your head with fluttering lashes. it’s times like this he was glad to have you under his thumb.

it’s later on in the evening that things are ready to commence. perhaps when you’d agreed to help jj out, he wasn’t quite clear on the task at hand. yes, he wanted your moans for his backing track — but he didn’t want you stood infront of a mic, awkwardly recreating a scene from pornhub premiums. no, he was after the real deal. authenticity. method acting, so he called it.

“‘cus like, i’on know what’s worse. a chick faking an orgasm when you’re fucking her, or faking it just for the sake of your music. nah, i think… we’re close enough to make the real thing happen. like — for artistic expression… purposes.” he explains as he sets up his little mic, pulling a pair of headphones over his ears to check the sound. “check, check.” he drawls into the mic before nodding in approval.

“so how are we gonna…” you furrow your eyebrows, always having been on the more innocent side of the sex spectrum. before you even get to attempt to verbalise your confusion, the blonde lifts his head — responding like it was no biggie.

“oh, i can totally go down on you. ‘f’thats cool.” his tongue darts out to swipe at the corner of his mouth and you feel your eyes widen. “really you just gotta lay there n’hold the mic. easy as shit.” he shrugs, finally sitting down and looking at you expectedly as you gawk.

“wait, really?” you giggle. you’d thought about it many times, jj maybank between your legs — but now it was all too real, and you didn’t know it would be happening so out of the blue, practically a business proposition. he’s in your space again, cupping your cheek in that way that was far too familiar to just be friendly.

“look — babe, you don’t gotta worry about things being weird, alright? i’m a munch, like actually — aaaand, are you tellin’ me right now, you would say no to a little head? i mean if you don’t want me to eat it you can always y’know, DIY—” he gestures a circular rubbing motion with his middle and ring fingers, alluding to getting yourself off instead. “little dj action. just need the moans to be real. m’going all out director mode here.” somehow, the thought of touching yourself infront of jj was more humiliating — so you shake your head, sucking on your lip in thought.

“no, you can do it.” you whisper and he grins.

“yeah? atta girl. what a team player.” your best friend praises before kissing you quickly on the mouth. something he always did, platonically — but now made your heart speed up a ridiculous amount.

as you lay back shakily on the bed, you think back on the lyrics scrawled in messy handwriting in the notebook he’d leave lying around — the contents pointing to him really being about that eating pussy life. something like ‘sucking all on her clit like it’s my lifeline — she asked to return the favour, already got mine’ underlined in red biro.

it’s a blur after he hits record, kissing on your thighs making you giggle and rubbing you until there’s a wet spot through the cotton of your panties. you know he’s smiling, because you can feel the upwards curve of his mouth when he starts kissing you through the fabric. you’re pleasing him just from letting out the sweetest whimpers, challenging himself to get you to moan louder for the sake of his song.

it’s not long before he’s got you bare from the waist down, legs fanned wide open with his arms round your thighs. by this point, he has to remind himself not to talk as to not disrupt the recording — and you’re doing him proud, not even having to try to release the most breathy, beautiful sounds that he knew would be perfect on the track.

you get pouty as soon as the whole things over, deciding your best friend was a total sicko. he’d gotten all kissy on you, wet lips smushed against yours, his eyes all hazy from arousal as he makes you taste yourself, murmuring about how you did such a good job for him before wandering off shamelessly to the bathroom to jack off. you get shy, still oozing your release onto his grey-blue bed sheets thinking back on the way you begged him to talk you through it. he was focused on his producing, but he couldn’t resist on whispering “there y’go pretty mama. lemme hear it, good girl.” whilst you cream on his mean fingers.

no one seems to think it’s a big deal but you, his friends john b and pope often lazing around his place smoking weed and playing on the playstation, totally unresponsive to jj sat sprawled on the couch with his laptop on his lap, chopping and editing away on some shitty producer plugin — your moans occasionally playing around the room as he clicks away, tongue between his lips in concentration, backwards cap snug over messy blonde strands.

the boys chime in with an occasional comment. “sounds dope, man.” pope hums out brainlessly as he stares at the tv, thumbing aggressively at the console joystick, the brunette beside him quick to agree.

“no yeah, sounds good.” he agrees, eyes even darting towards where you’re curled on the couch painting your toenails, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing.

when he drops the song, he promotes it everywhere — and whilst you asked for no credits for your… addition, it seems to go without saying that you’re the girl on the song, no one else even in question as wherever jj goes you’re seen hanging off his arm. his friends might not make a big deal, but you notice the stares when you go out.

rafe cameron has the audacity to corner you at the juice bar, wearing a smirk that just told you that he knew. “yeah uh, love your friends little song.” he stares you down, egging on a reaction. “been playin’ it on a loop for some reason.”

you avoid his eyes. “yeah, it’s pretty good.” you shy away, but he blocks your path.

“mm, for sure, yeah but uh, you— you know i could have sworn i recognised the… female voice in the back. got any idea who that might be or…?” his smirk only grows, licking his lips as he looms over you.

“nope…” the doe eyes give you away.

“huh, ‘cos it kinda sounds like a pretty girl i know.”

you run and tell jj, all sniffly and regretful — knowing that snitching on rafe to jj is only going to cause problems. his reaction is less defensive and aggressive than you imagined, instead leading you through to his bedroom by the waist.

“look, bae — people are gonna talk, alright? doesn’t mean shit. sure as hell don’t care about what rafe thinks.” he sits you down, standing above you as he curls a hand under your chin affectionately. “but hey, if the money wasn’t enough— think i can make it worth your while. y’wanna lay down for me, sweets? no mic this time. jus’ me and that pretty pussy.”

[verstappen-cult]

pardon me pretty girl, one of the prompts on the list "can i- may I kiss you" with CHARLES???? pls I think that'd be so cute

also I love your work sm 🧡

PROMPT DRABBLES ★ CL16

FROM THIS LIST ━━━━ "Can I-May I...kiss you?"

you look around, trying to find the brown-haired boy that a few hours ago became a world champion.

everyone is drinking and dancing, clearly very happy for charles and ferrari. but you couldn’t care less, all you want is to find your best friend and tell him how proud you are.

and you find him. in a booth in one corner of the club surrounded by some of his friends, fellow drivers and team. he has that smile that could light up the whole world, so bright with his dimples on full display.

making your way up to him it’s not easy. there are so so many people separating the both of you, that the only way for him to notice you is to start screaming his name. some people around give you funny looks but it works because they give you space. however, charles still doesn’t notice you.

“charlie!” you scream as loud as you can and it’s like one of those scenes in a corny movie, everyone stops, even the dj stops the music.

but you don’t have time to feel embarrassed because charles is finally looking at you. you want to believe his smile is bigger and prettier just because he finally spotted you.

only when charles takes a step closer you get out of the trance and start making your way to him, almost running, while he waits for you with open arms.

you collide with him, arms wrapping around his neck. “i knew you could do it! i always knew!”

and charles knows it. he knows how proud you have always been, the only person he listened to when he thought he wasn’t made for it and wanted to give up.

you have always been the one and only constant in his life. you.

charles pulls away, but just enough to look into your eyes. he says your name in a whisper, “can i—may i kiss you?” he asks and your heart skips a beat.

you look at him for a couple of seconds trying to find the joke, expecting to hear him say that it’s a mistake but charles waits patiently for your answer.

you nod, swallowing all those feelings that have been bottled up ever since you met him years ago, you’ll have time to talk about them later. “yes.” it’s barely a whisper but he hears you nonetheless, the spark dancing in his eyes tells you everything you need to know. and his eyes are the last think you see before he’s leaning in and crashing his lips against yours.

you are barely aware of the cheering around you and then the music playing again, because the only thing you feel and hear are charlie’s soft lips against yours and the thump, thump, thump of your heart.

[hwaslayer]

home (khj) | one shot.

—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst

—word count: 24k

—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*

—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande

Home.

When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;

Hongjoong.

It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;

The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.

As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.

So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”

“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”

“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going. 

“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.

“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.

“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—

“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.

“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”

“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.

“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.” 

“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.

“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.

“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?

“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.

“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm. 

“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.

“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking. 

“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady. 

“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.

“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”

“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”

“You sure?” You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”

“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.

So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.

“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”

“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”

“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”

“This is early to you?” 

“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.

“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.

“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”

“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall. 

“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”

“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.

“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.

“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.

“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”

“How can you tell?”

“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”

“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”

“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.

“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.

“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.

“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”

“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.

“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.

“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light. 

“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.

“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.

So colorful, vibrant.

But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.

He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.

So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.

That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.

Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.

“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”

“Just wanted to get some air.”

“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”

“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”

“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close. 

Kiss you. 

Hold your hand.

“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.

“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“You— wait, what?”

“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.

“A date, hm?”

“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.

“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.” 

And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too. 

After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.

Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.

That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.

“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”

“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”

“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.” 

“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”

“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” He says excitedly.

“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”

“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.

Welp.

You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.

When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.

“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.

“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.

The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.

“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.

“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.

“Are you almost done, though?”

“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.

The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.

So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.

“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.

Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.

“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.

“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”

“Just want a kiss.”

“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going. 

And you do.

The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.

His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.

“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples. 

“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.

“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?

The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.

His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm. 

“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.

Oops.

So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.

He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable. 

“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.

“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.

“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”

“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now. 

“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.

“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.

“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.

“This is pretty to you?”

“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.

“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.

“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”

“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.

“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.

You definitely slept well that night.

And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.

“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.

“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”

“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”

“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”

“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.

So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this. 

All of this.

—SUMMER

“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.

“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.

“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.

“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’

When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son. 

But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.

You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.

It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.

“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.

“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.

“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”

“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”

“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”

“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless. 

The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property. 

You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi. 

“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”

“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”

“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.

“He does.” 

“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.

“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.

“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”

“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.

A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.

It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way. 

You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.

Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.

Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else. 

Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made. 

“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.

“That’s my girl.” 

“You look hella happy with her.”

“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.

��That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.

“We’re not really talking.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”

“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.

Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.

“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.

“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”

“Joong.” You giggle.

“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.

“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”

“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”

“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.

“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.

“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.

“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”

“In the lot?!”

“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”

“Joong, someone might see us.”

“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.

“We don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

“Feels so good.” You whine.

“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”

“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.

You can’t believe him right now.

“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.

“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.

“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.

“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”

“I do!”

“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”

“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses. 

“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.

“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.

“I hate sleeping without you.”

“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.

The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.

Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.

The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.

You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.

You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.

A night without his warmth.

“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.

When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.

Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”

“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”

“That’s not the point.”

“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason. 

“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.

“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”

“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.

Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.

But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”

“What happened?”

“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”

“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”

“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.

You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”

“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.

“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.

“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.

“Mingi’s in bed.”

“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.

“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.” 

“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.

“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.” 

“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.

“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?

“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.

You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him. 

Oh, Hongjoong.

You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.

The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.

“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.

“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”

“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.

“You’re so good to me.”

“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.

Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.

It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.

A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.

A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.

As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.

Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.

And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.

When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.

“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.

“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.

The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him. 

You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.

“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.

“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.

But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too. 

“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now. 

“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”

“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”

“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.

Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.

During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.

Of course.

You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.

And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.

You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.

“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.

“Of course.”

“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”

“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”

“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.

She knows, she knows.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.

“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.

“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”

“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.

“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.” 

“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics. 

Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad. 

“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”

“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?”

“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.

“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.

“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”

“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.

“Yes I do!”  He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”

“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?

If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?

“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.

“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.

And it gets you every single time. 

You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.

“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open. 

Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.

That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.

Things were good, until they weren’t.

There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.

You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.

Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.

tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?

tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.

You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.

“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”

“Not my point.”

“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?

“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.

“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”

“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.” 

“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”

“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”

“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”

“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”

“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.

“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“

“To you, maybe.”

“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”

“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen. 

“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”

“How is it different?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”

“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”

“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”

“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”

“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”

“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”

“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”

“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”

“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.

“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument. 

“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”

“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.

“What happened?”

“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”

“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”

“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”

“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.

“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.

“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.

The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.

“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.

Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—

That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.

But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.

Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.

Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.

But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.

yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument

yunho: they fought again? over what?

wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me

wooyoung: thanks

wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit

He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.

When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.

“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.

“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”

“It was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.

“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”

“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”

“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”

“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”

“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”

“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.

“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”

“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”

“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.

“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.

“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”

“I need to shower.”

“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes. 

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.

It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.

“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.

“Hanging up more?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”

“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”

“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.

“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”

“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”

“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods. 

“She just needs her friends.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.” 

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.

“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”

“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.

“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.

“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”

“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.

“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.” 

“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.

“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”

And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.

Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.

The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change. 

Not anymore.

“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.

“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”

“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.

“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”

“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”

“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?” 

“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”

“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”

“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”

“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.

But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.

“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”

“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”

“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.

“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.

“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.

“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.

You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.

Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?

When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.

You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two. 

He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.

“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.

“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips. 

“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes. 

It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.

Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.

As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.

But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that. 

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.

“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.

You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.

So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.

They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.

They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.

You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.

You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.

The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.

When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.

“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”

“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.

“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.

“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.

“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.

“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”

“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”

“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.

Of your home.

“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.

“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.

The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,

Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.

The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.

A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.

It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.

The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’

hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles. 

Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.

All of that going to waste.

hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?

tara: yup!

There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it

hongjoong: go 😞

tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.

“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”

“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.

Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.

“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.

When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.

You are.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”

“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.

Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.

But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.

It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.

2 years of nothing.

Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.

But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.

Because did you deserve this? All of this? 

It was never about you.

Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had. 

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡

—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid

[hotchscoffeecup]

drunk dial

pairing: platonic aaron hotchner/reader

rating: t

word count: 8.1k

tags: implied sexual assault, referenced sexual assault

summary: when you drunk dial your boss in need of rescuing from a night club, aaron hotchner doesn’t hesitate to respond. the only problem? you thought you’d called emily. hotch insists on you letting him take care of you for the night as you’re in no state to be on your own. as the night progresses, you find that you’re finally able to disclose a trauma you’d kept buried for years.

“Hotchner,” he answers groggily.

A harsh sob echoes through the receiver and he sits up, bringing the phone down to view the caller ID. The dark slash of his brow furrows as he views your name and photo.

There’s concern in his voice as he says your name, but you don’t seem to hear it.

You heave another sob through the phone. “My friend left with some guy. And now this one, he won’t—” Your voice suddenly sounds far away the music pounding in the background overtakes your words. He’s missing information as your voice becomes clear once more. “He wants more than I’m willing to give Emily and I just want to go home.” Your words are slurred. “I just,” another choked sob, “I need he—” The line disconnects.

“Hello?” Hotch questions and tries your name again. He redials your number and curses as it goes to voicemail. Throwing back the sheets, he climbs out of bed and dials Prentiss’ number as he pulls a hoodie over his t-shirt.

She laughs as she answers, “Hotch, it’s past midnight. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He cuts her off and curtly explains the call he’d just received. “Where is she?”

“Oh, um, The 930 Club. She’s—”

“Thanks, Prentiss.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. He grabs his raincoat and keys and swiftly exits his apartment.

The club isn’t far from his complex, but with Saturday night traffic in the heart of DC combined with the summer storm raging on, it seems to take ages. He lays on the horn as someone cuts him off and curses as he slams on his brakes. Briefly, he considers throwing the red and blue lights on, but thinks better of it. He’s not far now and after making it through the next red light, the club comes into view. Disregarding the no parking signs out front, Hotch pulls up alongside the curb and throws the SUV into park.

Despite the rain, a line stretches out the door. Couples and groups of friends clad in leather, satin, high heels, and sleek accessories huddle under wide umbrellas to protect themselves from the storm. Hotch approaches the door and a bouncer stretches his arm across the way.

“There’s a line, old man.” The bouncer inclines his head toward the line of anxiously waiting club goers. “Get to the back before I put you there myself.”

Hotch is unfazed by the bouncer and the sense of power his job provides him. Standing toe to toe with the man, he stares him down, his eyes hard. He reaches into his pants pocket and retrieves his badge. With two fingers, he flips it open and pushes into the bouncer’s face. “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” he states flatly. “I’ve got an agent in trouble in there, so get the hell out of my way before I have you in handcuffs.” He’s bluffing, obviously, the bouncer has done nothing wrong. He doesn’t know that though, given how wide his eyes open in fear. He says nothing and steps aside, granting him entry.

“Thank you.” For good measure, Hotch drives his shoulder into the bouncer as he shoves his way into the noisy nightclub. His eyes dart around, scanning the scene. There are two long bars on opposite walls, a DJ against the short wall where dozens of people bump and grind against one another on the dance floor, and two levels of tall tables and booths for people to crowd around or sneak into to get away from the music.

On the phone, you’d sounded distressed. Your words were slurred and he could only hope and pray that you’d not been drugged by whatever “he” was with you at the time of the call. God, he could only hope that you were even still here. If he knew creeps as well as his job had accustomed him to, if a man was trying to procure a woman under the influence, he’d either leave immediately and attack her in a secondary location or he’d take her somewhere more private within the environment.

Pushing through the crowd, he shouldered past couples who shot dagger sharp glances at him and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. The music still pounded over the speakers up here, but this was clearly where people went to escape the bustle of the crowded dance floor and get away to drink or order food or conversate more

privately. He calls your name and begins scanning tables. Patrons dining or trying to steal a romantic moment glare at him. Some curse and tell him to fuck off. He pays them no mind. As he winds around tables, he begins losing hope despite there being much more of the club to explore. He has half a mind to shut the whole place down and call in the team, but that would be a gross overreaction. There is no evidence that you’re actually in danger or missing aside from a drunk misdial. Still though, his heart pounds erratically as he calls your name over the music.

He reaches the end of the second floor and at first doesn’t see that there are people in the booth they’re that far tucked into it. The man’s hulking frame blocks the girl from view and he knows it’s you.

“Hey!” he barks over the baseline.

“We don’t need anything,” the man says without looking back.

Fury floods his veins. Without a second thought, Hotch reaches for the man and grabs him by the back of the neck. He reels back, pulling the man to his feet. Catching his balance, the man pulls his fist back. As he aims to deliver a punch, Hotch ducks and sends his fist into the man’s gut. As the air vacates his lungs and he doubles over, Hotch fists his hands into his shirt and slams him back into the table. With the man immobilized, he looks up at you. A strap on your dress falls over one shoulder and your hair hangs limply, having fallen free of whatever style it had been in. You look at him from half hooded eyes, blinking slowly. The scene is spinning and your temples are throbbing.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks. His knuckles blaze white as the man struggles beneath his grip.

“Stop moving!” he barks.

“Can somebody help me?” the man calls.

Someone is saying your name, asking if you’re ok. The music is loud and your ears feel like they’re plugged with cotton. Things seem to move quickly and slowly all at once. Where are you? You’ve not left the club yet, but where did Mariah go? There’s your name again. God, you’re really out of it. Mariah left, you remember. She left with Andrew’s friend and Andrew, God, he wouldn’t leave you alone. When was Emily going to get here? There’s your name again. You blink hard and try to get your bearings. Though things are hazy and tilted through your alcohol laden senses, a picture starts to form in front of you. Aaron Hotchner, your boss, has Andrew pinned against the table in front of you.

“Sir?” you question, though the word feels far away and unfamiliar on your tongue.

Hotch raises his eyes from Andrew, concern reflecting back at you in them. Your eyes widen as you take in Andrew’s form beneath him. You glance down at yourself and see your dress straps pulled down, exposing the lace of your bra. What the fuck had he been trying to do before Hotch got here?

Two bouncers approach as a crowd begins to gather, people are always hungry for drama after all.

“Is there a problem here?” the first bouncer asks. He’s tall, built, and wears sunglasses despite it being dark inside. His ginger beard is bushy and his brow is pierced. He looks pissed as all hell that he has to be up here breaking up a fight. Hotch recognizes the other bouncer from the door. When they make eye contact, his eyes widen.

“Yo, Liam, that’s that FBI agent I was telling you about.”

Liam arches a brow, but his expression softens. “What’s going on, officer? Or should I call you Agent?”

Hotch ignores him and pulls Andrew to his feet, pushing him toward the bouncers. “Get this guy out of here,” he orders. He looks toward you again, his eyes searching for signs of further harm. He turns his attention back to Andrew.

“Did you slip her something?”

Andrew’s face screws. “What? No!”

Hotch steps forward, his face inches from his, and repeats the question louder, “Did you give her something?”

Andrew flinches. “No! I don’t do that shit, man. She took a bunch of shots with her friend. Guys were buying them drinks all night. I just—”

“You just what?” Hotch questions, his voice low and dangerous. “Wait for a woman that can hardly stand, take her upstairs, hide away, and see just how far you can take it?”

“Hey, she was into it!”

Hotch grabs him by the jaw. “Look at her!” he says. “She can barely keep her eyes open! That’s not consent, idiot!”

Andrew swallows and he looks like he might wet himself.

��Hotch,” you say and try your best to sit up, the world spinning as you do so.

Hotch releases him, but first leans in close to his ear. “If you ever, and I mean ever try this again, with anyone. I will have you arrested and will personally make sure you never see the light of day ever again. I was a federal prosecutor, so I know how to make charges stick. Do I make myself clear?”

Andrew nods vigorously and a tear slips from his eyes. “Not so confident now, huh?” Hotch whispers, disdain dripping from his lips. “Get him out of here.”

He watches as the bouncers lead Andrew down the steps. Hotch immediately turns his attention on you. He slides into the booth beside you. “Did he hurt you?” he asks.

Your brow furrows as you try to make sense of what’s happening. The music is so loud. Hotch looks around and then back at you. “Let’s get you out of here, come on.” He stretches his hand out to you and you take it, letting him pull you out of the booth. When you find your feet, you stumble and he catches you, his arm bracing around your lower back.

“It’s raining,” Hotch says as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Take this.” He drapes it over your shoulders, his little finger curling under the strap of your dress and pulling it back into place as he does so. The smell of cedar and teakwood reaches your nose, a severe contrast to the club’s overarching scent of vodka, sweat, and the amalgamation of various perfumes and colognes sprayed in earnest.

The second you exit the club your head feels a fraction clearer. The air is muggy, the humidity amping up with the cold rain coming down after a week of intensely high temperatures.

Aaron reaches into his pocket and fishes out his car keys. He clicks the unlock button and the car beeps in response. He opens the door and helps you inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment as you clumsily buckle your seatbelt to make sure you can get it on alright. Once secure, he gently shuts the door and jogs around to the driver’s side.

He slides into the driver’s seat and twists the key in the ignition. He places his hands on the wheel, but before shifting the car into gear, he looks at you, intensely. When he says your name, it’s gentle. It’s not the tone he uses in the office when he’s calling the team for a briefing or to review something you’d written in a report. There’s a warmth in his voice, and there’s real concern there too. “You don’t have to tell me,” he starts. “Just know that you can.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the world tilts on its axis. Your stomach roils and for a moment you’re afraid you might be sick. You take a deep breath and manage to hold it down. Hotch tilts his head, regarding you. “Is there anyone at home that can take care of you?”

“No,” you answer and this time you don’t shake your head to avoid aggravating the nausea. “My roommate is out of town visiting her family,” you speak slowly but your words still come out slurred.

Hotch nods and shifts the car into gear. “You can stay with me then, tonight.”

“No, sir I can’t let you do that. You’ve got Jack and—”

A smile cracks his stern visage as he pulls out into traffic. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve taken a mental snapshot as you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a genuine expression of mirth cross his face. “Jack is at his aunt’s. I wouldn’t have exactly been able to come out like this if he wasn’t. Beth has an event for work this weekend, which is why I’ve stayed back in DC. It’s no trouble at all.”

You sink back into the seat, a part of you unable to believe that this is happening while the other part of you is still trying to fully process what all had transpired in the last fifteen minutes.

“Hotch, how did you know—”

His eyes are on the road as he speaks. “You thought you’d called Emily. You called me.”

“Oh my God,” you groan, drawing out the last letter. A scarlett heat creeps into your cheeks and you cover your face with your hands. “So you heard—Jesus Christ. Oh my God.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hotch says, his words genuine. “I’m glad I can help.”

The rest of the ride passes in silence. It’s not long by any stretch of the imagination, but the constant stop and go traffic of late night DC has your stomach doing somersaults. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your head against the cool glass of the window hoping it’ll quell the churning in your belly.

A quiet groan escapes your lips as Hotch pulls into his designated parking spot at The Langham. It stopped raining. As soon as he shifts the car into park, your stomach feels as though it’s just been bounced around like. ping pong ball. “Oh god,” you moan and fumble with the door handle. Somehow you manage to undo the lock and fling open the door. As soon as your feet hit the pavement, you rush over to the nearest bush, the vomit you’d staved off finally forcing its way up and out of your body. It’s vile, the way the alcohol and stomach acid burns your throat.

Footsteps rapidly approach and there’s a hand at your neck, gathering your hair. “Alright, ok,” Hotch says soothingly, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. “Get it all out, oh yeah, yep. There you go.”

When your body stops purging itself, you gulp down a fresh breath of air before spitting the acrid taste of bile from your lips. You stay like that, hands on your knees, and take a few deep breaths. “Do you have your gun?”

Hotch releases your hair as you stand, but keeps a steadying hand on your arm. His expression is puzzled, his brow arched. “No, why?”

You roll your eyes and turn toward the sidewalk leading toward the front entrance to his building. “To kill me now so I don’t have to live with the embarrassment of knowing my boss just saw that happen.”

Something between a laugh and scoff escapes Hotch’s lips as he catches up to you in two long strides. Him and his long ass legs, you drunkenly muse.

The lights hurt your eyes and your temples continue to throb as you let Hotch navigate your way through his complex. The walk feels excessively long and you wonder if all apartment complexes are this maze-like. As he fishes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to his apartment you realize you’re actually at Aaron Hotchner’s apartment. You’ve never been to his apartment. You’ve been to Emily’s, Penelope’s, and Spencer’s apartments; Rossi and JJ’s houses, but Hotch? Definitely not. Suddenly you feel like you are about to encroach upon the shadowy place Mufasa warns Simba about in The Lion King.

You blink and that clears the weird image forming of Hotch as a cartoonish fatherly lion from your mind. You stumble through the threshold as he pushes the door open and curse as he catches you again. “These fucking heels,” you grumble. As you reach down to work out the straps your stomach flips and you groan.

Hotch’s eyes flare slightly. “Why don’t you stay up there?” he cautions. “Let me help you.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you respond, voice tight as your stomach threatens revolution once more.

He bends down on one knee and begins to undo the straps from around your ankles. He holds the back of your calf as he pulls the heel off and places it against the wall. You have to catch yourself on his shoulder to keep from falling but as soon as your foot falls flat on the floor, a languid moan leaves your lips.

“Good God, that feels so much better.”

He helps you slide out of the other high heeled shoe and stands. Without the heels on, he has a decent amount of height on you. You have to look up to meet his eyes, those eyes still shining with concern.

“Let me take the coat,” he says, lifting his hands toward you. You turn and shrug out of it, your limbs feeling awkward and heavy as you do so. He hangs it on a hook on the back of the door and gestures down the length of the hallway.

“It’s just the one bedroom,” he explains as he leads the way toward the main room. “You can sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch.”

“No!” you blurt. “No, no, no you don’t have to do any of that oh my God.”

Hotch chuckles in response. “I think you’ll thank me in the morning if you do.” Wordlessly, you follow as he leads the way to the aforementioned bedroom. He flicks the light switch on and the lamp on his bedside table illuminates the room. It’s simply decorated with store bought abstract paintings and dark blue linens on the queen sized bed. A framed photo of Jack sits on the nightstand, angled toward the bed. The idea of Hotch lying there looking at the image of his son tugs your heartstrings. You move past Hotch and plop down on the bedspread before reaching for the photo. You smile as you look at Jack’s crooked smile.

“He’s so precious,” you muse and poke Jack’s nose through the flat plane of glass. You look up at Hotch from where he stands in the doorway. “He’s lucky to have a dad like you, sir.”

Hotch smiles softly and crosses the distance to sit beside you, the mattress sinking beneath your combined weight. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll be honest, it's hard to feel like a good dad some days with our job.”

You bump him with your shoulder, or at least that’s your intention.You more or less use your entire arm to nudge him just barely. “You give him all the time you’re able, we all see that. If we do, Jack definitely does.”

You pass him the picture frame and smile. Hotch smiles in turn, his lips together. “Thank you,” he says as he places it back on the nightstand. “I hope he grows into a good man.”

“With you as his father, there’s no doubt. There ought to be more dads like you out there to teach their sons how to be men.” Your smile falters and your voice grows small. “Maybe then they wouldn’t try to see just how far they can push the envelope.”

Tears spring to your eyes and you use the back of your hand to clumsily wipe them away. Turn off the waterworks, you chide yourself. Your temples already throb from how much the alcohol, first round of tears, and vomiting dehydrated you, no need to compound it now with more tears.

Hotch says your name quietly. “You can talk to me, you know.” He pats your hand that rests atop the bedsheets. “I’m not your boss right now, I’m your friend.”

Your lip quivers as you stare blankly at the wall ahead. “If I talk about it, that means I let it happen. I’m a fucking FBI agent, Hotch. I should know better than to drink that much. I should—”

Hotch’s brow pinches. “Woah, woah, woah,” he starts, “where is this coming from? You know better than anyone that how much you drink doesn’t matter, that doesn’t entitle anyone else to you or your body. And fuck if you’re an agent, you’re allowed to go and enjoy drinks and a night out without worrying if some asshole is going to try and take advantage of you. I think I scared him within an inch of his life, too. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

But it’s not about Andrew. It’s not about tonight anymore. Tears slip over your lash line.They’re hot and fat and you hate how they have little minds of their own, dropping freely down your cheeks. You know what he says is true. Hell, you preach it to everyone, especially when you teach self defense at the local university. What you wear is never an excuse for someone to touch you. How you dance isn’t an excuse for someone to grope you. How much you drink isn’t an excuse for someone to lay claim to your flesh. The only thing that means yes is explicit, enthusiastic consent. You know this. You teach this.

But right now, it’s so hard to believe because that’s what you had to fight so hard to teach yourself when you first had to learn what happened wasn’t your fault.

You drop your head into your hands and stifle a sob. “God, it was nearly ten fucking years ago.”

“What was ten years ago?” Hotch asks, his voice soft and kind.

Oh God. You’d said that out loud.

You scrub your hands over your face and curse as you smear mascara into your eye. “Fuck!” you exclaim as your hand flies to your eye instinctively.

“I’ve got something I think can help,” Hotch says as he rises from the bed and darts out of the room. From your point of view, you can’t see anything but you hear bottles rummaging around from where you imagine is the bathroom out in the hall. When he returns he carries a small green package in his hand. He crouches in front of you and peels back the plastic film on the container. With two fingers he extracts a wipe and folds it in half. As he reaches for your face he hesitates, wipe paused in mid air above your cheek. “Is this alright?” he asks.

Sniffling, you nod. With one hand, Hotch gingerly wraps his fingers around your wrist. As he pulls it away, he uses his other hand to place the cool moist towelette against your eye. He holds it there for a moment before he begins to wipe and blot at the black swirls of mascara that had dried in tear stained patterns around your eyes and cheeks and whatever vestiges of eyeshadow remained. Once that wipe is fully soiled, he retrieves a fresh one; repeating the gesture on the other eye before moving on and clearing away what remained of your face and lip makeup. You don’t speak while he does this, and you don’t have to. You needed it. You needed that. You needed someone. You needed him. A friend. Someone that would ask no questions and just show up for you when you needed them most. No questions asked. And when he did ask questions, when Hotch did, there was no expectation to answer. But right now, in this strange moment, in Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, in his bed no less, you felt like you could finally tell someone.

“I was a teenager,” you say as he takes one final swipe at your cheek.

His hand freezes along your jawline and his eyes lock on yours. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently, lowering his hand.

“If I don’t say it now on what courage the alcohol left in my system is giving me, I’m afraid I never will.”

Hotch sits back on his heels. “Alright.”

“I was dating an older guy at the time. I was a freshman in college. He was a senior; vice president of his fraternity. He came from a wealthy family, too. I was naive and so excited to be dating someone like that, someone with status. I grew up comfortably, but not that well off. He took me to nice dinners and bought me expensive gifts. We had a physical relationship, and it started out fine enough.” You pause and take a deep breath. “But we started fighting. He wouldn’t,” you pause. “I couldn’t get him to talk to me or communicate in any way that led to resolution when we did. He’d just keep apologizing and told me that he’d do better next time. He’d start kissing me to interrupt and then his hands would be in my pants and I just,” you stop and shake your head. “I thought if I could just deal with what he did physically, that things would be fine again if I just pretended I liked what was happening and got it over with. I thought that we’d go back to the fun, happy go lucky couple everyone knew us as. Until it happened again, and again, and again. When he graduated I finally felt safe enough to break things off once there was distance between us. I knew something had felt off about those experiences. It never occurred to me that that was assault.”

“You suffered through numerous unwanted physical advances because he emotionally manipulated you through stonewalling.” Hotch says quietly. It’s not an explanation, but validation of your experience.

A choked laugh escapes your lips. “I know that now. At the time, I thought assault was like what you see on TV. That it’s some stranger in an alley that blitz attacks you. I never thought it could be someone you knew, let alone someone you were in what you believed was a loving and committed relationship.” You shake your head again, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that the perpetrators were almost alway statistically someone the victim knows.”

A warm hand slips into yours. You look up and Hotch is looking at you intently. “What happened wasn’t your fault.” He says, squeezing your hand.

You lick your chapped lips and drop your eyes, nodding. “It took a long time for me to learn that.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Hotch says. “To have gone through that alone,” he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” you reply, because what else was there to say? “I wasn’t completely alone. I did go to counseling throughout the remainder of my time in school, they had services for the students. There was a support group, too; one for people who’d experienced sexual violence. It was there I really learned that things weren’t my fault. Other people had experienced similar things. Without that, I don’t think I’d have made it through honestly. I definitely wouldn’t be here.”

His hand squeezes around yours once more. “I’m glad that you are.” He smiles and a dimple forms in his cheek. “I know I'm a better man for having known you. The team, hell, the impact you have on the lives of those going through the worst possible moments of their lives in these cases we work…you have touched so many lives for the better. Please never, ever forget that.”

You smile crookedly and it feels somewhat genuine. “What do you think gets me through the day?”

The throbbing in your temples intensifies suddenly and you screw your eyes shut, your hands moving instinctively to rub them. “God, I’m going to be so hungover in the morning.”

Hotch claps his hands together. “Let’s see if we can’t get ahead of that.”

He leaves the room and when he returns he has a glass of water. “Here,” he says and passes you the cup.

You graciously accept it and take a long drink, the cool water soothing your throat, raw from crying and vomiting. “Thank you,” you murmur.

“It would probably help if you got some sleep. Do you feel up to taking a shower?”

You scoff, “Ok, Hotch. I threw up and it helped a little bit, but I’m not that sober.”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Let me at least get you some clothes. I know sleeping in a cocktail dress won’t be too comfortable.”

“Do you know?” you tease.

He presses his lips together. “Let me go see what I can find.”

You exhale a short laugh as he disappears from view and you fall back onto the mattress, a dull thud echoing as your body hits the sheets. You heave out a big sigh and stare at the ceiling. “This is a weird fucking night.”

You close your eyes and behind closed lids, it feels like you’re spinning. Yep, definitely not sober. You open your eyes and lazily reach up to start pulling bobby pins from your hair.

“Alright, I’ve got a pair of sweats and an old academy hoodie that should fit you.”

At the sound of Hotch’s voice, you let your head loll to the side. “You look absurdly tall from this angle,” you muse.

Hotch chuckles, “Spoken like someone desperately in need of sleep.” He steps into the room and drops the clothes onto the bed.

“Hotch?” you question, ignoring his last comment.

You roll onto your side and push yourself back into a sitting position. He arches an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Why is it you’ve got makeup wipes in your apartment?” You inhale sharply. “Ooo, are you secretly a drag performer?”

Hotch laughs. “I am not a drag performer, though I do think Anderson does drag brunch on Saturday mornings if I remember right.”

You blink twice. “I’m sorry, and you’re only telling me this now?”

Hotch shrugs. “I’m surprised you don’t know about it. Garcia does.”

Your jaw drops. “Garcia knows?? Oh, when I get my hands on her—”

“To answer your question though,” Hotch butts in, an amused glint shining in his eyes. “They’re Beth’s.”

A smile pulls at your lips. “Beth keeps things at your apartment? What are we talking, like, a couple of things on the counter? A drawer?”

Hotch’s eyes drop to the floor as a scarlet blush creeps up his neck and spreads across his cheeks.

“Oh my God, this is serious isn’t it?” You feel the apples of your cheeks as your smile widens. “Spill, Hotch! Should I be looking at outfits for the wedding?”

To that, Hotch raises his hands as a smile splits his lips. “Calm down,” he laughs. “We’re not quite at wedding bells, but we do see each other almost every weekend. With the commute on the train, it is easy to have a drawer or two at one another’s apartments.”

You feel like kicking your feet, you’re so happy. If anyone deserved this kind of joy and love in their life, it was Hotchner. God knows he deserved it after all the hell he’d been through, all the trauma he survived.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say. “Beth is a remarkable woman”.

Hotch nods, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “She is.”

You reach over and pull the clothes onto your lap. “Thanks, again, Hotch.” You toy with the sleeve of the hoodie in hand. “As horrified as I was when I realized I’d called you instead of Emily, I’m glad you came. I’m glad it was you.”

“We’re a team. We’re family,” Hotch replies. He leans against the doorframe. “Hell, I’m old enough to be your father. Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt a bit more protective of you, anyway. So, when I heard your voice on the line, there was no hesitation. I’d like to think if I had a daughter and she were in trouble, that someone in her life would do the same.”

You spring off of the bed, a little uncoordinated due to alcohol still gently buzzing in your veins at this point, and throw your arms around him. You bury your face in his neck and though, muffled, you say, “Thank you, Aaron. Thank you so much, for everything.” You don’t need to say what for, he knows. Your gratitude extends far beyond just rescuing you from the night club.

His arms snake around you, his palms pressed flat against the middle of your back as he squeezes you tightly.

“You’re so welcome,” he says into your hair. “I’m so proud of you, you know. Don’t ever forget that.” He pulls away just so and presses a fatherly kiss to your hairline, “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to wake me up.”

You nod and brush away a stubborn tear. God, you’d think you’d have nothing left in the tank at this point. You stifle a yawn as you close the door. The clothes Hotch left you fit well enough; the warmth and coziness of the fleece lined fabrics acting as security blanket as you tuck yourself in between the sheets. You barely remember to flick off the lamp on the bedside table before crashing onto the pillows where the heaviness of sleep finally drags you under to the sweet realm of nothingness.

Three things are incredibly clear the second you wake up: one, it’s too bright and you have to squint against the white rays of sunlight cutting through the slats in the blinds; two, your mouth feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton balls, you swallow but there’s not even an inkling of saliva to wet your dry throat; and three, it feels like someone has been slamming on a timpani inside of your skull.

You exude a long, slow groan into the pillow before rolling onto your side to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on Hotch’s nightstand. The red numbers blink back 10:23AM. There’s a fresh glass of water on the nightstand alongside two tablets and a folded piece of paper.

Your brow furrows as you prop yourself onto your elbow and reach for the note. You unfold it with one hand and in Hotch’s tight, neat scrawl it reads:

Ran out to grab a few things. I left some aspirin there on the table. You should probably take them.

-Hotch

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you mutter as you toss the paper onto the bed.

You try not to gag as the pills start dissolving on your tongue and quickly chase it with the glass of water. After washing them down, you make a rather unattractive display of gulping down the remaining water. You drink it so quickly that some spills over the glass and you have to use the sleeve of your sweater, well Hotch’s sweater oops, to wipe off your face.

It doesn’t sound like anyone else is home. Pushing back the sheets, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand and for the first time, the room isn’t spinning. Even though Hotch is out, you still walk on the balls of your feet as if you need to be quiet. It feels strange to be stepping out into the hallways and walking into his bathroom. Sure, you’d swung by his apartment a few times to drop off a file or other work necessities. You’d never been in his house though.

Walking in and using his bathroom feels so strange, like an invasion of privacy. Like his bedroom, it’s simply decorated. A shower curtain decorated with blue and green swirls lines one wall. Plush bath mats of a similar blue line the area in front of the shower and sink. His very few toiletries sit in a neat row to the left of the faucet on the sink. He’s a Gillette guy, interesting. You’d always taken him for an Old Spice sort of man. You hear the front door and stop profiling his bathroom, instead, quickly using it for its intended purposes. You can’t help yourself though as you dry off your hands. You pull open the two drawers beneath the sink and smile to yourself. The one holds all of Hotch’s things: razor, comb, toothpaste, the usual; the other is clearly Beth’s: makeup, hair elastics, and the green makeup wipes sit neatly inside among other items. You bump the drawers closed with your hips before making your way back out into the hallway.

“Hey, Hotch,” you say, “Thanks again so much for—” Words fail you as you look up and see JJ and Prentiss in his living room.

Wide smiles spread across their faces. JJ spreads her fingers and holds her hands in the air, “Surprise!”

Brow furrowed, you cross the room and let them pull you into quick hugs.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you all, but what’s going on? Where’s Hotch?”

Emily’s perfectly manicured eyebrows arc toward her hairline as she tilts her head, “He thought you could use a pick me up.”

“So, he called you guys?”

JJ nods. “We’ve all had rough nights, followed by even rougher mornings.” She inclines her head toward Emily. “Remember the morning Hotch ran that triathlon?”

Emily cringes. “God, don’t remind me!”

“Where is Hotch, anyway?” you ask, craning your neck around Emily and JJ.

“Oh,” Emily says, her lips forming the shape of the word. “He should be right behind us he—”

Just then, the front door swings open and it’s not Hotch.

“There she is!” exclaims Penelope. She waltzes into the apartment, adjusting the massive purse on her shoulder as she does so. Her knee length pink skirt swishes around her legs as she crosses the room to pull you into an embrace. The smell of jasmine clings to you as your face is buried in her chest and neck. She pulls away after a long moment, though her hands don’t drop from your shoulders. Her eyes scan your face. “Oh, sweetheart, look at you. Do not fret! Penelope is here to help get you feeling refreshed and revitalized!”

You look to JJ and Emily for help. “I look like shit, don’t I? Be honest.”

JJ shakes her head. “Noooo.”

Emily presses her lips together and tilts her head back and forth, “Well—”

JJ slaps a hand against her stomach and Emily winces. “What?!”

“Drink this,” Penelope says. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of yellow liquid. You take it and turn to read the label, Crisp Lemon Berry Pedialyte. “It’s got electrolytes. You need those!”

“Yes ma’am,” you say agreeably and crack open the bottle. The label makes it seem like it’ll be better than it is, but the taste is bearable. You need as much hydration as you can get at the moment, so you don’t complain.

“Sorry I took so long!” Hotch’s voice fills the room as he enters carrying a drink tray of coffees and an extra one in his free hand. “Line at the cafe was nearly out the door.”

“Oh my God, is that coffee?” you ask, salivating at the thought.

Penelope points a purple polished finger at you. “Finish that, then you can have coffee.”

He sets a cup down on the kitchen table before approaching them in the living room. “Non-fat, vanilla latte for you,” Hotch says, passing a cup to JJ. “London fog for Emily, can’t quite shake England there, can you?” he teases as Emily accepts the cup, not before flicking him off though with a cheeky grin playing on her berry red lips. Iced matcha green tea latte—”

“With soy?” Penelope questions, eyeing the cup suspiciously.

“With soy,” Hotch confirms and she accepts it happily.

“Last but not least, almond milk mocha for you.” He holds the cup out and smiles warmly. You hold his gaze for a moment, the exchange carrying more than a simple ‘thank you’ would allow for. He dips his chin just slightly in acknowledgment. As you reach for the cup, Penelope’s hand shoots out to intercept, her bangles jangling against her wrist.

“I’ll take that!” she chirps before taking a long sip of her own drink.

“Hey!” you whine.

Penelope gestures toward the Pedialyte with your coffee. “Finish!”

You roll your eyes and reluctantly chug the remaining liquid. “There,” you say and shake the empty bottle. “Happy?”

“Very!” pipes Penelope. “Oh! Here!” she reaches into her bag and withdraws a drawstring bag. Did she own the Mary Poppins bag? How did all of this fit inside of her purse? “I stopped by your apartment and grabbed a few things. Toothbrush, deodorant, change of clothes, the works.”

“Oh, Penelope Garcia, you are my angel!” You gratefully take the bag into your hands and disappear down the hall into the restroom.

The aspirin has started to kick in alongside what attempts you’ve made to rehydrate and the throbbing in your skull has dwindled to a soft drumming. Searching through the contents of the bag, you praise Garcia’s name as you find your skincare and toothbrush.

It takes all of ten minutes for you to brush your teeth, wash your face, and style your hair up and out of your face. Garcia had packed you two different styles of underwear, (leave it to her to give you the choice of thong or bikini styled undergarments. She’s probably also one of the only people you’d feel comfortable rummaging through your underwear drawer if you’re being honest) a pair of leggings, and a cropped Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. You change quickly and fold the sweats and sweater Hotch had lent you. You throw all of your toiletries into the bag and shrug it over shoulder before scooping Hotch’s clothes into your arms.

Hotch and the girls are sitting around the coffee table on the couch and recliner, enjoying their beverages. Penelope smiles widely when you emerge.

“There she is!” she exclaims. “I brought your Birkenstocks too. They’re by the door. Hotch said you’d worn heels out and I knew you definitely wouldn’t want to be in those.”

“Good call,” you say and take your coffee from Penelope. You take a slow sip of the warm mocha and moan.

Everyone laughs. Emily checks her watch and shoots up. “We better get going if we’re going to catch Anderson’s performance.”

Your eyes widen at that. “Wait.”

Emily smiles and nods. “Yep. He comes on in about an hour. We figured you’d need a nice greasy brunch after last night. The place he performs at makes a mean breakfast sandwich.”

“And potatoes with sausage gravy!” Penelope adds. “Though I’m more partial to mushroom gravy because precious baby piggies should not be slaughtered for my breakfast.”

“Okayyy, Penelope,” JJ teases as she loops an arm around her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure they added veggie sausage to their menu just for you.”

“Yeah,” Emily agrees. “They were probably afraid she’d hack their system and mess with their food shipments otherwise.”

Penelope looks over her shoulder as JJ guides her to the door. “I could do that!”

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that!” Hotch calls after them as JJ and Penelope leave the apartment.

“I wonder if they remember I’m the one with the car keys,” Emily says, her lips drawn into a warm smile. “Meet you downstairs?”

You nod. “Yes, I’ll be there in a second.”

Emily nods and leaves. You cross the living room toward the door where Hotch stands, one arm holding it open.

“Hotch I—

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“No, Hotch. I’m serious. What you did for me last night, I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“And you don’t have to,” he says, his tone firm. You look up and meet his unwavering gaze. “I would do it again without question. Like I said last night, we’re not just a team, we’re family. We look out for each other. We pull each other up when we’re at our lowest. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.”

You can’t help the quizzical expression that pinches your features. “For what? All I did was wake you up in the middle of the night, throw up in your bushes, and kick you out of your own bed on a Friday night.”

Hotch laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, well when you say it like that, it definitely doesn’t look good. What I was going to say though, is thank you for trusting me. I know that I wasn’t who you expected last night, but I’m glad I could be the one to help you when you needed it. Furthermore, I’m incredibly grateful that you felt as though you could trust me to tell me about your past. I know that can’t have been easy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I hope it’s clear now that you’ll always have a listening ear with me.”

A surge of emotion courses through you in that moment and you can’t help but launch yourself at him. You loop an arm around his neck and awkwardly attempt to hug him with the other arm that stills holds his clothes, the bundle of fabric creating an odd wedge between your bodies. Hotch is taken aback by the gesture, but his arms comfortably fold around your back and he squeezes you gently.

“I could’ve used someone like you, you know.” You say after a moment. “I didn’t really have any older male figures I could talk to at the time it happened.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he assures you. “And I’m not going anywhere. That is, until Strauss gets sick of me.”

You pull back and scoff. “Yeah, like that’ll happen any time soon.” You hold the clothes out to him. “Here! Before I walk out with them.”

“It’s actually a bit breezy out there,” Hotch says as he takes the bundle and passes you back the sweater. “Why don’t you take this?”

You reach out and accept it, pulling it back into your chest. “I’ll bring it with me to the office on Monday.”

“Sounds good,” he says with a smile. “Oh! And you’ll probably want these.” He walks away and while he’s off grabbing whatever it is he’s talking about, you scoop your heels up off the floor and slide into your Birkenstocks.

Hotch returns with a pair of black Ray Bans. “If I know one thing about hangovers,” he says as he passes them to you. “It’s how horrible a sunny day can be on the eyes.”

He reaches for the door knob and pulls it open for you. “Enjoy your weekend. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

As you slide his sunglasses up the bridge of your nose, you curse. “Shit! The report on the McPherson case. I was going to work on it today. I’ll email it to you first thing tomorrow.”

“It’s already taken care of,” Hotch explains. “Emily and JJ took care of it for you before coming over this morning.” He’d orchestrated everything with them as soon as he’d woken up to make sure you had nothing to worry about today except for fighting your hangover. He’d not told them everything of course, he’d never betray your trust like that. Some things the team didn’t need to know, and that was okay. If you were ever ready to tell them, he knew you would in time. For now, he just told them that you’d had a tough night and would need some TLC from the girl gang. They hadn’t even bothered with follow up questions. The three girls were ready to drop what they were doing and change their plans to be able to bring comfort and fun to your Saturday morning. He’d have done the same thing for any of them if they’d been in your shoes.

Your lips quirk into a small smile knowing further words weren’t necessary to convey your gratitude and appreciation for all he’d done and continues to do. “I’ll see you, Monday.”

He smiles in turn, “See you, Monday.”

[highvern]

Patterns I

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (21+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: fuckboy(ish) wonwoo, friends(?) with benefits, multiple sex scenes, oral (f. & m. receiving), choking, face fucking, penetrative sex

Length: ~10k

Note: woooohoooo part 1 done. let me know what you guys think! thank you @gyuswhore for being my beta and talking me down from a complete meltdown lmao

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

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

“And if you look at this chart, you can see profit margins over the past three quarters have steadily increased…”

Mona drones on and on. You try to listen and nod along but there’s only so much enthusiasm that can be faked for a last minute afternoon meeting on a Friday. Maybe if she was saying anything with an ounce of meaning you’d pay attention. But the numbers she spout off on record profits only confirm what the company who hired your team already knows: if they give their employees more work for less pay, they’ll make more money.

The vibration of your phone wakes you up. Peering into your lap under the table, you see your roommate’s name flash across the screen.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: ruby’s tonight Y/N: Do I have a choice?

You don’t even lock your phone before she responds.

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: nope!

“Y/N, do you mind sharing the latest reports?” 

Head jerking up, you meet Mona’s gaze across the room. She flashes a tight smile, clearly having caught your moment of distraction. Lucky for you, you could recite the reports in your sleep.

You smile and say all the right things; make all the right jokes. Just enough personality they feel special but not so much they feel like you’re a real human being outside of your job.

“All right. I think we’ve covered everything.” Mona claps. “Edgar and I will be on call this weekend if anything comes up.”

Shuffling out with the rest of your coworkers, you beeline back to your desk. 

Mona breezes by, slamming the door to her office shut.

“Do you think Mona has eyes in the back of her head?” Edgar asks, peeking over the wall dividing your cubicles.

Without looking away from the email crowding your screen you quip, “No, but I hear she sleeps in a coffin.”

“Huh. I thought that was just the hottest office furniture tread for execs.”

You snort in response. 

Mona was a hard ass but she was good at her job. 

“Anyway, any plans this weekend?”

“Get drunk and watch Love Island.”

Edgar gasps, hand to his chest like a scandalized debutant. “You wild woman.”

The next two hours crawl by. Not even the usual side projects keep you entertained, giving you time to research the new art installation downtown Lisa mentioned visiting. 

Hopefully buying tickets as her early birthday present will get you off the hook for tonight.

In true Lisa fashion, a surprise gift means celebration. And the best place to celebrate is Ruby’s.

Smoke chokes the air, bodies upon bodies packed into the space of the dingy bar on a Friday night. The chill of the outside stops at the threshold of the door, sweltering heat greeting you and your friends as you join the crows eager to celebrate the weekend.

It’s almost too dark to see faces but Mingyu’s head of dark hair stands above the rest from his perch in the corner. Lisa’s hand finds yours, and your other hand find’s Amina as you shoulder towards the table he’s claimed for the night. The bass of whatever remix blaring through the DJ’s speakers thrums through the crush of drunk patrons like a frantic heartbeat, rattling your bones with each step deeper into the space.

The glossy surface of the table is already littered with cups and beer bottles. Mingyu cuts his conversation with Wonwoo short to greet your group, smiling over Lisa’s head already buried in his chest. Wonwoo's only acknowledgement is a short nod over the top of the bottle he lifts to his lips. 

A pair of not so sly eyes wander down your front, tracing across the deep v of your top, baring your sternum between the swell of your breasts. You burn under Wonwoo’s blatant gawking, breath stalled and face hot but none of your friends appear to notice the electricity crackling between you two, intoxicated brains filling with lewd ideas. 

Needing a reprieve, you slither to the bar in search of a drink. Slipping between the sweaty bodies as they part, Amina follows close behind. A few shots and a beer later, you stumble towards the dance floor with laughter on your lips and the bitter singe of alcohol on your tongue.

The crowd of strangers accepts you, swallowing you into the churning chaos immediately. A few familiar faces stand out in the crowd as you shift through the sway.

Looking over the shoulder of the random person in front of you, a mess of limbs better known as Lisa and Mingyu flashes into view; Soonyoung and Eva no better next to them. Over their embrace, you spot Amina dancing with a pretty stranger of her own, both of them with drunk smiles plastered on their faces. 

Head dizzily bobbing to the music, your eyes slip shut. You know it's Wonwoo at your back, hips following closely, one hand around your waist and the other dragging a path of fire across your thigh. 

This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in this particular position. Since your roommates started dating, and whenever alcohol was close enough to serve as a believable excuse, you managed to find each other like super charged magnets; gluing together and drowning heady touches.

It wasn’t like anything more happened. That was the excuse you told yourself after the first time. A girls night out Mingyu and Wonwoo happened to stumble upon. You’d still been upset about the breakup with Seungcheol two months prior, indulging in the shitty white wine that only served to fuel your boldness.

You’d never admit seeking out Wonwoo with the knowledge Seungcheol couldn’t stand him; taking sick satisfaction in imagining the look on Seungcheol’s face as you let Wonwoo touch the way previously reserved for him. You pressed against Wonwoo’s front with little care for who saw; a challenging gleam in your glassy eyes, daring him to push away. Not one to be bested, Wonwoo pressed back, and the rest is history.

After the first night of the new game, you went home and came embarrassingly fast to the fantasy of what would have inevitably happened if he’d followed. The week after consisted of staunchly avoiding Wonwoo. Guilt and disgust plagued every waking moment, and if you had to look at him you knew you’d feel worse. 

Your only real connection was your roommate Lisa dating his roommate Mingyu which meant your evasiveness went undetected for nearly a month before Wonwoo managed to corner you at a party and demand to know what your “fucking problem” was. It was then you realized he either didn’t remember what happened or didn’t think it was anything to make such a big deal about. You never asked for specifics but came to the conclusion: If he didn’t care, then why should you? It was just a bit of fun. A game of chicken neither intended to end. 

Each time you came across each other on the weekends after, the stakes increased. One night, you let wandering hands catalog the planes hard muscle hidden underneath the fabric of his shirt. The next, you followed a trail of goosebumps across his neck with tongue and teeth. 

And Wonwoo called your bluff everytime. His thumb tracing against the underside of your breast while delivering a particularly harsh grind of his hips, leaving very little to the imagination of what hid behind the zipper of his jeans. Or when he spun you around, hypnotizing you with his eyes while pawing your ass, dragging your core across his thigh wedged between your legs.

But whatever transpired fizzled away by the time the night ended, both of you content to go separate ways and ignore whatever was left on the dance floor (or occasionally a wall). Tonight would be no different. It never was. It never would be.

Wonwoo was fun to play with but that's all. Throw him flirty smiles, indulge in the bold touches, take a thrill in the chase and then retreat to the safety of the bar or drag one of your friends to the bathroom for a break. He let go without any argument; something you found disappointing much to your own chagrin. But Wonwoo’s eyes never left your figure the second it left his arms. Even if he found a new partner, he would watch you while he did everything he had already done and then all the things he would have done if you stayed.

“Come home with me,” he whispers in your ear, more of a command than a question, breaking the delicate silence surrounding your unspoken attraction.

The air in your chest thickens to a sludge. For a second, you think you misheard him, possibly hallucinating that he’s spoken at all. With the thrum of music and shouts it’s not out of the question.

Unable to turn in his tight grip, you settle for leaning back against his shoulder, neck stretching, giving him a direct view down your top, his eyes privy to the fact that you hadn’t worn a bra. His chest plastered against your back heaves with a heavy breath as you continue to move against him. 

Wonwoo tries again, his hand squeezing your waist gently, pulling you closer to his body to feel the evidence of his arousal. “Come home with me.” 

It's just the next level to the game, you think. The fantasy is tempting; taking you back to his apartment, spreading you out across his bed and making good on all the promises he’s teased into your skin for months.

If he wants to play, you’ll play too.

“What’s in it for me?” you hum, lips brushing his ear in a mimic of his motion moments ago. 

Wonwoo responds with another curl of his hips against your ass.

God, he’s good at this. Wonwoo is the only guy to spark any kind of interest since Seungcheol left months ago. Not for lack of trying but they were either too tall, too short, weird hair, awful laugh. The list of excuses goes on and on. Subconsciously, you’d been comparing them all to the man behind you and found each of them lacking. But if Wonwoo wants to progress to the next level, he’ll need to work for it.

“Not convincing enough,” you chide.

The hand on your thigh pauses, taking a second to squeeze the supple flesh before setting a new course. Wonwoo moves slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop his advance if you wish. Not sensing an objection, he pushes forward. Even over the thick denim of your jeans, Wonwoo’s palm scorches against the zipper. Continuing lower, he grinds the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy, nothing more than mockery of the real thing but it has you shuddering all the same. The slope of your shoulder stings under his mouth, licking waves of fire across the nerves with each nip of his teeth. 

Wonwoo pants against the shell of your ear on the next rock of his hand, laughing as your nails dig into his wrist before he whispers, “Unless you want our friends to watch, trust me.” 

You need to see his face; need to look in Wonwoo’s eyes and find out if he’s trying to rile you up or if he’s serious.

This time when you move, Wonwoo allows you to turn in his hold. The look in his eyes tells you he would take you right here if he thought for a second you’d let him. He isn’t trying to just get a rise out of you and see you squirm. Wonwoo isn’t playing a game anymore. 

He wants you.

You nod once and Wonwoo has you both out the door and on the way to his place before the song ends.

The cold metal of the door bites into your skin, bowing your chest straight into Wonwoo’s as he crowds against you, arms caging you in on both sides. His lips are busy surveying the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping until he pauses at the hollow of your throat. His teeth raze against the sensitive skin, tongue darting out to lave against the marks he’s determined to leave. Wonwoo listens closely to the sounds leaving your throat, focusing his ministrations whenever an exceptionally satisfied purr slips out.

He takes a step forward at the feel of your hand pushing its way into his jacket, rewarding the tease of your fingers across his stomach with a suck against your jaw. The sharp pain of your nails across his scalp forces a quiet groan out his lips; something you file away for later. 

“Get us inside before your neighbors catch us with my hand down your pants,” you gasp, giving his hair a particularly harsh yank to pull him away from your breasts peeking out from the low cut of your top.

“Wouldn’t mind that,” he mumbles, diving back. 

But Wonwoo concedes, grabbing his keys from his pocket while remaining focused on leaving his mark on your sternum. 

Despite your request, you do everything but make it easier for him; thumb dipping into the waistband of his boxers before slipping inside, cupping the straining bulge confined under the tight fabric. Wonwoo falters under your attention, pressing his hips into you until you're crushed between his body and the door. When Wonwoo finally fumbles the key into the lock, the door flies open under your combined weight.

Using the momentum, Wonwoo crowds you back to the wall just inside, slamming the door shut with his foot, returning where he left off without missing a beat. A hand tilts your chin back to give him more room, and you realize he hasn’t kissed you yet. Twisting the front of his shirt, you resolve to change that.

Pulling back, Wonwoo’s brows arching in confusion, mouth falling opening to complain at being interrupted again but snapping shut when you attempt to pull him forward. 

But a hair's breadth away Wonwoo stops.

“What do you want?”

You won’t beg. If anyone is cracking first it’ll be Wonwoo. Just like he did at the bar not too long ago. 

“If you won’t tell me then I can’t give it to you.” He moves forward, nose tracing along your throat, breath fanning across your neck. One of his arms moves to the space between your body and the wall, pulling until his thigh is bracketed by yours. The hard muscle is nothing short heaven against the seam of your jeans, invoking a traitorous whimper from your throat.

You manage a chaste kiss against the side of his mouth before he darts out of range. 

“Tell me and you can have it,”  Wonwoo says, cocking his head back, looking down his nose at you from behind the wire frames of his glasses; pupils blown. His eyes close and he leans forward again before continuing, “Tell me what you want, and you can have everything.”

His teeth trail across the shell of your ear on the last word and suddenly it's all too much. The rasp of his voice, the flex of his thigh, the layers of clothing separating your bodies. If you don’t get relief soon you’ll both implode.

“Kiss me.”

You feel Wonwoo’s satisfied smile a second before your lips meet, lighting the fuse for what's to come. There’s no gentleness in the connection, instead, months of insatiable need leads the way. Parting your lips, you suck his own between your teeth until it's swollen in retaliation. Wonwoo angles your head back with a gentle tug of your hair, immediately swallowing your gasp at his roughness. The hand wrapped around the middle of your back flexes, urging, no, begging you to grind against him. You oblige with embarrassing eagerness.

Your hand finds its way down Wonwoo’s front again, fingers firm and demanding. Tracing the zipper of his jeans up and down in time with your movement against his leg, the heel of your hand presses forward, causing his hips to cant up against the pressure. The motion is a mock of what he was doing in the crowded bar minutes ago. Just enough to rile him up and to piss him off until his hands drop and squeeze your ass so hard it hurts.

Refusing to let your mouths part, Wonwoo drags you down the hallway towards his room. It takes longer than it should, both of you stopping to force the other into the wall, bodies writhing against one another in search of friction and pleasure. At one point you consider letting him fuck you right their on the floor but he pushes through the door to his room just before you can unzip his pants.

Finally inside, Wonwoo herds you towards the bed in the corner. The back of your knees hit the side, bending as you land with a soft bounce. Wonwoo follows swiftly, settling himself on his elbows before diving back into your neck again. His hips slot into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing forward to search for the heat he knows is there. You greedily return the movement, hips curling up, savoring the drag of his hard cock. Wonwoo sucks another bruise onto your neck, high enough you’ll have to hide it in the morning but you're so drunk on the idea of what is going to happen next you can’t even feign outrage. 

The strap of your flimsy top falls down and Wonwoo moves to explore the new span of skin. His lips drag over the uncovered swell of your breast, sloppy kisses trailing over the silky skin. Cocking his head to the side, he sucks a nipple through the thin black fabric. Your hips buck, back arching at the new sensation. The angle of Wonwoo’s cock is just right, pulling moan after moan from your throat. He’s so focused on what he’s doing he can’t be bothered to snicker at how he turns you into an aching puddle of want.

Clothes come off in a blur. You watch his abs flex as he rips his shirt over his head, eyes tracing the dark thatch of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pants. Soon, yours is gone too, lost on the floor. Wonwoo's eyes delight in the sight of you bare before him, with nipples puckered and breasts heavy with excitement. He ducks back down, mouthing at the sensitive bud, drowning in your breathy whines and whimpers. Using his hand, his calloused thumb massages the one his mouth had abandoned, pinching and flicking until you’re left raw and aching.

“Wonwoo,” you cry, hands ripping at the sheets when his teeth come out to play. 

He pulls back from your breasts, in a frenzy to remove your pants while his knees fall to the ground on the side of the bed. You arch up to help him rip the damning fabric away. An ember of fury sparks, furious with yourself for wearing jeans over the skimpy skirt Lisa had offered.

None the wiser, Wonwoo looks between your legs like he’s found an oasis in a desert. You realize too late they’re nothing impressive. Pale pink cotton; simple, practical. Just like your pants, since getting fucked tonight wasn’t even a remote possibility when you left your apartment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t even seem to care. When you dare to look at his face, worried by the sudden pause in his actions, you find he’s not even blinking. His thumb finds your entrance through the fabric, shallowly dipping inside before moving back and massaging teasing circles over the damp spot.

Pride and ego long forgotten, you beg. “Wonwoo, please.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t give in. Focusing on the curve of your thigh, nose etching along the strained muscle while he continues teasing touches over your underwear. The wet of his tongue comes out when he reaches the hem of your underwear. So close to where you want him but not close enough.

“Please.”

The pathetic crack of your voice is rewarded with firmer fingers and his lips against the sticky crotch of your panties; the heat of his mouth right over your entrance as he laps at your release.

Another beg and he moves aside the thin strip of fabric, curling his tongue into your entrance before sucking at your swollen clit. 

The relief is short lived. Somehow, Wonwoo knows exactly how to touch and tease you, driving you up the wall only to pull you back down. One hand finds your knee, forcing it away when you try to crush his head between your thighs at the first prod of his long fingers inside you.

He slips another finger inside, his tongue continuing to swipe at your bundle of nerves, just as desperate to give you what you want as you are to receive it. Glancing down at him again, you find a scene worthy of being immortalized in a painting. His brow is furrowed in concentration, eyes pinched tight while he works to get you off. 

A pause to take a breath is all the reprieve you’re granted before Wonwoo dives back in, moaning under the sting of your nails on his scalp; encouraging you to hold him there and use him, to come for him. The symphony of your combined noises floods the room. The squelch of his fingers, rubbing up against the place that drives you mad. The wet noises of his mouth, your arousal mixing with his spit; his noises when you pull at his hair, vibrating against your cunt and pulling your spine into a harsh curve. 

You can’t help but watch him. Enamoured with how right he looks between your legs, skin slips together where his shoulders hold your legs up. Even the contrast of his hand on your knee fuels the fire.

He peers up at you when you call his name again. Eyes burning into your own. Like he can read your mind. Like he agrees this is the best place for him to be.

You hear yourself far away, chanting his name as you shatter into a million pieces. Clenching around Wonwoo’s fingers with a strength you didn't know you possessed, your hips ride them until your muscles lock and jerk. The smear of fluid across your thighs, slipping your ass and onto the bed is lewd. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t stop, working you through it like his own release is on the line. Licking and sucking and fucking you with his fingers until you finally manage to pull him away with a choked cry of his name. Even then, his hand continues pistoning into you as your mouths find one another hungrily. 

There's a sick satisfaction in your gut at the taste on his mouth. Your arousal coats his chin, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose is wet where it digs into your face as you suck his tongue.

Moving to his feet, Wonwoo bends over you, lips never straying from yours. He fails to crowd you down into the mattress like he intends. Freezing when your hands pushing his pants down the rest of the way. His cock bobs, the nearly purple head leaking. If there was any doubt he didn’t find pleasure going down on you before, the evidence of his enjoyment sits hard and heavy in your palm. An exploratory squeeze has Wonwoo’s chin dropping to his chest, a sharp breath leaving his nose.

Sliding off the bed and to your knees, you peek up at him through your lashes, letting the tip rest against parted lips. When Wonwoo drags his head back up, looking down his nose, your tongue darts out to catch some of his pre-cum, receiving another groan in response. A thought that has you blushing rears its head. 

He’ll probably like it, you think.

You let one of her hands trail down while kissing across the velvety shaft his length. Wonwoo watches closely, eyes widening for a second when you find the apex of your thighs, dipping down to collect the lingering slickness. Once satisfied, you exchange your grip on his cock and quirk an eyebrow. Stroking him coyly.

You don’t look away from his eyes even though every instinct tells you to hide from the heat in his gaze. Your palm catches at the tip, thumb brushing his leaking slit. More evidence of his arousal trickles out and you lap it up quickly.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hisses. “Fuck, you’re so good.” 

One of Wonwoo’s hands finds your cheek, helping you find a comfortable pace. Settling the back of your head against the bed, drag him forward by his ass, content to let him use your mouth the way you used his. Wonwoo stumbles for a second at the sudden movement, hands finding the bed to prevent himself from collapsing. He peers down in question. 

“Want you to fuck my mouth,” you pant, quickly taking him back in, going as deep as possible without gagging.

“Fuuuuck,” Wonwoo rasps, moving the hand on the side of your face to the back of your head. He pins you in place with his hips, giving a shallow, almost hesitant thrust as he discovers your limits.

You zone out when he finds a rhythm, hand at the base of his cock to keep him from bottoming out in your throat, the one cradling his balls dropping to trace the inside of his thigh. Eventually, Wonwoo lets himself go, savoring the pressure of your tongue when you lap against the tip as he pulls out. His abs twitch at the sight of drool leaking from the corners of your stuffed mouth, lips stretched and bruised around his cock. 

Opening your eyes, you look right at him; punching the air from his chest as you moan around his cock, the vibration forcing his head back, neck bared again as a bead of sweat settles in the hollow of his throat.

“Touch yourself,” Wonwoo commands, breaking the melody of whimpers and groans.

You disregard his command, content with focusing on untying him from his loose tether to sanity.

Not one to be ignored, Wonwoo pulls away on the next stroke. You follow, attempting to trail forward and suck him back down your throat but Wonwoo’s hand knots in your hair. He yanks your head back until his cock is just out of range. Looking up at him, you do nothing to hide the annoyance at such a sudden disruption.

“Touch. Yourself. ” he lets out tightly, enunciating each syllable. Equally annoyed but willing to make a point. 

“Wanna watch me?” you goad, smug as the tips of his ears redden. 

Instead of brushing it off, Wonwoo takes the bait.

“Yeah I do,” he says, one hand leaving your hair, guiding the tip of his cock across the seam of your lips, letting out a humorless laugh when your tongue reaches out to meet it on instinct. “Wanna watch while you suck my cock because you’re a good girl.” 

He lets you take the head, teeth grinding under the dig of your tongue into the slit. But any attempt to take more is punished with another tug of your hair. Until his hand circles your throat and he pulls you off completely. 

“Right, Y/N?”

The praise goes straight to your head, breath stunted. You barely nod before Wonwoo moves his hips forward again, slowly resuming their previous rhythm at the promise of seeing you put on a show. Two fingers slip in with ease, disappointment bubbling when the stretch doesn’t come anywhere close to his but you’ll play along for now if it means getting to feel his cum on your tongue.

Wet, messy noises echo in the room. You hollow your cheeks, hand acting as a bumper while letting his cock kiss the back of your throat. Wonwoo’s hips stutter when you swallow around him. The tension in his muscles doubles your effort, set on the satisfaction of making him cum from just your mouth. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” Wonwoo hisses, pulling you off.

Wonwoo hauls you up into the bed, aggressively crowding you towards the pillows. The cool sheets sting against your back, but you focus on getting another fist around his cock. Wonwoo intercepts your plans before you can make it below his navel. He pins the offending appendage next to your head; grip loose enough you could break if you wanted, but the tease of his dominance turns you on even more and it's not long before he has both hands above your head, and a disapproving look on his face.

“If you don’t want me to come on your thigh, I suggest keeping your hands to yourself,” he states, leaning towards the bedside table, searching for a condom.

“Didn’t think you’d be that easy,” you bite back. Planting your feet on the bed, your hips grind up into his. 

“Says the woman who begged for my cock,” Wonwoo grinds out, flattening his chest into yours, teasing with exactly what you asked for.

You're suddenly hit by how much stronger Wonwoo is than you. Able to have your entire body pinned like it’s nothing while working the condom on at the same time. You knew he worked out, broad shoulders and narrow waist giving him away; but having that strength used you sends a swirl of butterflies through your stomach.

Wonwoo resorts to ripping open the packet with his teeth, hips easing up to quickly roll it down his length. He rubs himself through your folds, collecting the wetness and repeatedly tapping himself to your clit. You’re about to flip him around and take matters into your own hands when he catches on your entrance and presses home in a slow thrust.

He slides deep. Deeper than Seungcheol, deeper than anyone you’ve ever been with. You barely get a chance to savor it before he’s moving, wasting no time before working up a pace meant to drive you both mad. 

“Shit,” you curse.

Wonwoo huffs into your neck, tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “Yeah? Feel good?”

“Soooo good.” 

Wonwoo lets go of your hands, tangling one the sheets, the other searching for the top of the metal headboard. The change in position folds you in half, giving him the leverage to fuck as deep as possible. Finding your hands free, one claws at his back, leaving bright red lines in its wake. The other grabs for his ass, squeezing the muscle there, helping him press forward. His balls clapping against the swell of your ass drives you closer to hysteria. 

Your second orgasm rushes forward, resting on his lips finding yours. The connection is bruising, all teeth and tongues. The hand on his ass falls to play with yourself and Wonwoo breaks away to watch.

“Like that, Y/N?” Wonwoo bites, whispering right into your ear. “Fuck, you're so tight, baby.”

His words only add to the inferno. The need to come overwhelms you, demanding satisfaction to the point it hurts. But you need more. Needs something you can’t name and only Wonwoo can give. 

Frustration twists your features, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tense. Almost as if he senses your oncoming tantrum, Wonwoo drops more of his weight, pressing you into the mattress and filling you to the brink.

 “Be a good girl,” Wonwoo coos, hip punctuating each word while his teeth tug at your earlobe. “Come for me.”

His permission is the key. Bombs explode behind your eyelids, cascading colors against the black and white. Loud moans rush from your throat to fill his room, muscles locked, body convulsing with endorphins. You want to kiss him again, until you can’t breathe, until you stop needing oxygen and adapt to survive on the taste of his mouth. 

Wonwoo must feel the same, meeting you in a lazy kiss, too fucked out to put in more effort. He swallows every whimper, the syllables of his name while he fucks you through your high. The wetness smeared between your bodies echoes all the motions, his pistoning hips driving more and more from your worn cunt. 

His own high rushes for him at light speed. Pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours. You burn the last bit of energy you possess to open your eyes and find his. Wonwoo’s face is tight as a thin sheen of sweat covers his body. All you want now is to see him cum, give him as much pleasure as he’s given you. Reaching up, your lips brush his ear one last time.

“Wanna feel you come,” you sigh. “Please, Woo.”

The responding groan signals success. His hips stutter forward, a deep grunt bursts from his chest. If you weren’t exhausted, you’d demand to go again; to fuck him again and again just to see the twitch of his lips as he empties himself into you, the grind of his teeth, and shudder of his chest. But Wonwoo gives one more hard drive of his hips before collapsing, completely spent.

You don't know how long you stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as sweat dries, and your thighs becoming uncomfortably sticky. When Wonwoo moves to pull out, a surprising whine rips from your throat. 

“Shower?” he asks, husky voice breaking the lingering silence.

You finally crack an eye open at Wonwoo’s voice, and find him looking at you with soft eyes. Uh oh. Warning bells fire but you’re too tired to care. A shower sounds lovely.

Wonwoo hauls you up, leading you into his small bathroom. The water in the shower is already running, steam escaping the stall as he ushers you under. The scratches at his back contrast brightly against his pale skin, a few bite marks spattered across his chest. You know you look equally debauched but the lull of warm water calms any concerns. The silence is comfortable, thick as you move like zombies. Wonwoo passes his body wash without a word, moving to shampoo his hair. Swapping between the brutally frigid air and the comforting warm water under the shower head, you both race to finish up quickly. Once satisfied, Wonwoo shuts off the faucet and grabs the towels from the hook on the wall. He hands you one before stepping out to dry himself. A spare toothbrush waits on the counter when you exit the stall.

Wonwoo leaves first, heading back to his room to dress. It gives you the opportunity to look in the mirror for the first time. Your skin glows, both from the steam and Wonwoo’s attention. Across your throat, bruises cluster like a necklace, splotches of darkness maring the skin. Unfolding the towel, you find more littered across your breasts, and an impressive one on the inside of your thigh. 

After the shock fades, exhaustion creeps back in. It had to be far into the early hours of the morning. You hope Mingyu stayed with Lisa at your shared apartment. Having to face Wonwoo in the morning was enough horror, but if Mingyu heard anything then you would never be able to look him in the eye again despite having heard your roommate and him more times than you can count.

Returning to Wonwoo’s room, you see him already under the covers, spread out on his stomach with his face squashed into the pillow. On his desk sits a tshirt and a pair of old shorts. Hanging the towel up in his bathroom, you snag the shirt and pull it on.

Finding your pants, you fish out your phone and see the time: 3:47AM. A few missed calls from Amina, several dozen texts from the group chat, and one from Lisa that reads “You better not be where I think you are” clutter the screen. 

There's no point in arguing the accusation. She has your location, you know she checked it before she went to bed. And in the morning you’ll have to answer every inane question that pops into her head. But for now, you need to sleep.

Sliding open the group text, you send a quick “I'm alive, see u in the morning for brunch?” tossing your phone aside.

Your head hits the pillow and you’re out like a light.

The dream you’re lost in is lovely. A faceless figure bends you over a desk, your heated face pressed against the glossy wood. Naked as the day you were born, nothing protecting your nipples from rubbing against the cold surface, hardening until you hiss from sensitivity. Large warm palms massage your ass, hands pushing upwards, lightly parting the cheeks to give him more leverage to lick at your leaking hole. You can feel him moan, echoing your own sounds of pleasure as he indulges. One hand finds its way back to his head, fingers tangling in his short hair, holding him in place as you rise on tiptoes to move against his mouth. He feels familiar but it doesn’t matter who he is, more so what he plans to do. Just as a thumb swipes against your other hole, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips, it all comes crashing down.

You claw at the tendrils of pleasure slipping past to no avail. Harsh whispers outside your door pull you awake as they gain volume. It isn’t out of the ordinary to hear snippets of your roommates’ conversations as they pass down the hall towards their own rooms. Having the first room off the kitchen was the sacrifice you made to have a bigger closet and a better view. Usually though, Lisa and Amina had the decency to not have a full blowout so early, and on a weekend no less.

As the whispers crescendo into a one sided screaming match, you make out Lisa and Mingyu’s voices on the other side of the thin wood. 

“Mingyu if you don’t move out of my way there will be TWO BODIES TO CLEAN UP.” 

Lisa is pissed, using a tone of voice saved for rare occasions. Occasions you rarely witnessed Mingyu be on the receiving end of. Whatever he had done, he better pray Lisa forgives him. He also better pray you forgive him for working Lisa’s temper up so early in the morning.

“Shut the fuck up!” you yell, voice thick with sleep, refusing to open your eyes against the light trickling in from the window above. Snuggling deeper in the soft covers, you try to force yourself back asleep, hoping to reunite with the anonymous dream man.

When did the window get above your bed? 

You shoot up, instantly regretting the decision. Splinters of pain shoot behind your left eye causing you to collapse back into the pillows to find reprieve. The grumble next to you sends your heart racing.

“I’m going to kill her,” a gravely male voice threatens.

Turning on your side, you brave the torturous sunlight to catch Wonwoo’s profile. His face is scrunched in annoyance, eyes shut as he too tries to get lost in the blankets. He drags the comforter over your heads, pulling you towards him to hide in the curve of your throat.

It all comes rushing back. Going home with him, your dirty deeds, the shared shower. You beg the powers that be to kill you when you remember how you begged with embarrassing ease.

Outside his door, Lisa bellows and forces the door open; sending it cracking against the wall with the force. 

The blanket rips down, uncovering who's hiding underneath. She only manages to pull it below your shoulder before you and Wonwoo realize what's happening and clutch at the fabric. Thank god you both are wearing clothes.

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo’s voice is acidic as he looks to Mingyu over Lisa’s head. Mingyu at least has the decency to look apologetic as Lisa acts like an overly concerned mother who just found her daughter with a boy in her bed.

“See? Y/N is alive, we can leave now,” Mingyu tries in vain to placate his girlfriend. Lisa snatches her hand away from him when he attempts to pull her out of Wonwoo’s room.

Lisa’s eyes take in your tousled hair, the bruises at both your necks, the clothes littered on the floor haphazardly. She isn’t stupid, she knows exactly what has happened. Lisa also knows Wonwoo wouldn’t take advantage of you, but she is still protective nonetheless. The amused look spreading across her face nearly sends you out the window and to the cement several stories below.

“Oh my god, are you fifteen?” Her question is pointed at Wonwoo, catching the string of hickies marking your neck.

“How about you get the fuck out of my room?” Wonwoo bites, raising his voice. He burrows under your chin, dragging the blanket over his head once again.

“We’ll talk about this later!” Lisa calls as Mingyu finally drags her out the door, her voice is muffled by the slam of it shutting but you clearly hear her yell, “Brunch is in an hour!” 

Finally left alone, you mind races to prepare for the interrogation waiting for you. Wonwoo appears to be unaware of any such troubles. Cuddling down into the swell of your breasts, he’s already trailing back towards sleep. 

Despite yourself, the hand stuck under him rises up to gently trace shapes across the expanse of his back. The warm skin lulls you into a trance as the memories from the hours prior replay.

“Are you sure I can stay?” A deep yawn warps your voice. You’re  already halfway under the covers, hoping he doesn’t change his mind. If you have to stay awake any longer you’ll have a meltdown.

“Yes.” His face is still pushed into his pillow, voice distorted by the barrier and slurred with his sleep. “Now shut up and sleep.”

And you do just that. Shocking, given you’re a horrible bed partner; tossing and turning most of the night, waking frequently. Seungcheol experienced many grumpy mornings courtesy of your poor sleep hygiene after a sleepover. But in Wonwoo’s bed, your restlessness decides to take the night off, allowing you to sleep like a rock.

It can’t have been more than a couple hours before you awake again. Despite the short snooze, you’re more rested than you’ve been in months. Stretching with a yawn, you find what roused you awake. 

Somehow Wonwoo found you in his sleep, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, body firm against your back. He’s hot skin and hard muscle, the tent in his boxers sliding roughly across the naked skin of your thighs. Cursing yourself for forgoing the shorts he laid out, you try and twist away only for Wonwoo’s length to settle between the dip of your ass.

You freeze solid. Listening to the sound of his breathing stop then even out once again. Waiting to confirm he’s still asleep, you try moving away again only for his hips to press against you once you wiggle against him. Body acting on its own, your spine curls, sending your ass back into his crotch. 

And then Wonwoo’s arm around your waist flexes and he thrusts forward. 

Shit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, face buried somewhere between your shoulder blades, nose tracing your spine until he finds the bare skin of your neck to leave heated gossamer kisses.

There’s nothing left to lose. You’ve already fucked. Wonwoo face to face with your most intimate parts, and you the same. You begged him to cum inside you for Christ's sake. Giving another curl of your hips, you decide to meet his challenge.

“Can you?” you whisper into the darkness, eyes sliding close again as a tired breath leaves your nose. It's less of a goad, and more of a subtle beg for his attention.

Wonwoo drags the hand wrapped around your waist downward, wedging it between your thighs gently. You’re already wet from the brief movements against one another. He wastes no time, immediately framing your clit with two fingers, teasing friction to warm you up. The first twitch into his hand has his fingers dropping, pushing into your entrance as you parts your legs to make more room. His movements are sluggish but he placates your want the best he can.

One of your hands slides under the covers, moving behind your back to grab him. The unmistakable heat greets you through the fabric of his underwear. His breath stutters against your back, his chest pressed tightly against your back like a second skin. Wonwoo jerks forward through your fist, clothed tip prodding against the soft curve of your ass when you reach the base.

Continuing to move just like that, you both are more than content to get off like this, much too tired to put in any real effort. But when you push down his boxer just enough to feel the hot velvet skin of his tip against the dip of your spine, leaking from light touches, Wonwoo decides he wants more. Needs more. 

He pushes your hand away, directing himself between your legs, resting his tip at your entrance. With shallow thrusts forward, he lets himself catch on the ring of muscle just inside, barely parting your walls. The thought of him returning deep inside you, condom nowhere to be found, makes you drool. At some point Wonwoo’s hand finds your waist again, this time under the fabric of the flimsy t-shirt. The thick cotton bunches across your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples while his hand splays between and pulls you against him.

You have half a mind to let him fuck you like this, raw, half asleep, tucked under the covers in the silence of his room. The other half blares with sirens and red lights flashing DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! 

The louder part of your brain, the one that sounds suspiciously like when Amina scolded you for not using condoms with Seungcheol after getting an IUD, wins. 

It takes all the strength you possess  to break the trance Wonwoo has. His lips have taken to mouthing at the back of your neck, his nose tracing the notches of your spine while his tongue sends goosebumps blooming.

“Condom.” you finally manage to breathe out, voice pushing past the thick blanket of lust and fatigue.

The hand on your chest flies off, moving in the direction of the bedside table. Within seconds Wonwoo wraps himself in the latex and pushes inside.

The stretch is perfect, muscles already accommodating his languid thrusts inside you. His hips are tucked tightly along your ass, barely a sliver of space between your bodies. One of Wonwoo’s hands reaches back under your shirt to thumb your sore nipples, letting a heavy flesh rest in his palm. The arm propped under your head reaches out, Wonwoo’s fingers twisting in the pillow cases. The web of veins and muscles flex with each cant, almost ripping the fabric of the sheet apart when you clench around him. 

As if having a mind of its own, a hand trails up his neck, cradling the back of his head and tangling in short locks of hair. Wonwoo hitches his chin over your shoulder, leaning forward to moan right into your ear. Your other hand takes the abandoned post at your clit, determined to make yourself cum and pass back out in the next five minutes. 

Unlike the explosions earlier, your orgasm crawls up slowly, bubbling to the surface in a smooth simmer. Your thighs tighten, twitching as the pot boils over and melting you into Wonwoo’s chest. He follows you over the edge quickly, hips continuing their fluid rhythm until they stutter against your ass; shuddering breaths leaving his chest, a quiet groan of satisfaction punctuating his content. You can’t move even if your life depends on it, heaviness settling in your muscles like concrete.

You're already descending back into the realm of dreams when Wonwoo slips away.

Wonwoo’s soft snores jolt you back. You’re far too awake to try joining him. And you can’t just stay in his room forever. Glancing around the room, you devise an escape plan. Wonwoo’s position doesn’t lend any subtlety, any effort to move from under him requires you to lift his entire weight.

You sit still for another minute, contemplating the potential pros and cons if he is awake to see you run, away from the sanctuary of his room and into the reality sitting beyond the door. Precisely as you decide to deal with whatever teasing he’ll no doubt hurl your way, Wonwoo shifts, burrowing back into the pillow on his side to provide easy access. Waiting with bated breath, you’re relieved when the muscles of his back expand with a deep inhale as he settles in slumber once again.

Springing out of bed, you collect your phone and wrinkled clothes. The shocking level of cleanliness and organization the room possesses for a man his age aids your quest. However, your underwear appears to be a lost cause. With haste, you search under the bed, eyes scouring the area around his desk, even sneaking a quick glance back towards him to see if the missing garment is mixed with the pillows. All is fruitless as the bright pink garments have disappeared, gone without a trace.

After slipping on your pants with impressive speed, you're out of his bedroom and into the hallway. Body on autopilot, you tiptoe towards the front door.  

The cracked door of Mingyu’s room where Lisa is no doubt waiting to ambush lingers just ahead. You don’t dare to breathe as you breeze past and ruin her plans. The heavy metal of the front door groans at your pull, tensing as noise echoes in the hallway behind you. You’re swift, slipping between the crack in the door frame and into the stairwell before Lisa can even call out your name. By the time Lisa is able to pull the front door back open, you’re down the stairs and halfway through the lobby, beelining for the busy street outside.

Everyone on the street can tell you’re taking a walk of shame; their judgment burning into your skull with each step closer to home. The tale tell signs are clear as day: messy hair, t-shirt clearly belonging to someone else, eyes downcast as you move along the congested sidewalk of a Saturday morning. The only solace is the neck of Wonwoo's shirt covering a majority of the marks staining your skin. 

You don’t breathe until you round the block of your apartment. Thankfully the lobby is empty and so is the elevator as you ride up in stifling silence. Slipping through the crack of the sliding doors, you rush the remaining distance and finally find your way into sanctuary.

The door clicks shut, and the dull thud of your head meeting metal rings a second later; the cool melt against the sweat on your brow is a lovely reprieve.

The sound of a throat clearing down the hall less so.

Glaring over your shoulder, you find Amina leaning over the kitchen island, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Lisa clearly informed her of the morning's findings.

Her lips twitch with humor, choking out, “Have a good night?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, launching off the door and to your room. Sharp laughter meets your back.

Hiding away in the bathroom, you cloak yourself in steam and scrub away any remnants of the night. Starting with the piney smell of Wonwoo’s body wash. 

You run through the facts despite wanting nothing more than forgetting the entire ordeal. 

Fact: Wonwoo isn’t as horrible as Seungcheol made you believe.

Opinion: He’s still infuriating.

Fact: You slept with Wonwoo.

Opinion: It wasn’t half bad.

Fact: You won’t do it again.

Thirty minutes later, the hot water runs out and you’re forced back into reality.

She can’t look in the mirror, knowing exactly what you’ll see. The proof that can’t be scrubbed away, the proof that the you let Wonwoo fuck you silly, and that you wouldn’t mind if it happened again. 

Some time later, hidden amongst the piles of blankets littering your bed, you mope. The hood of your sweatshirt tied tightly around your head leaving only your face visible. The TV hums with the drunk gibberish of the reality tv show cast as they laugh and cry over something innocuous.

A soft knock on the door breaks your focus, Amina appearing in the opening.

“Are you still coming to breakfast?” She asks.

“Don’t feel good.”

“Y/N,” Amina sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed. “It’s not that bad.”

You almost swallow your tongue. Of all your friends, Amina dislikes Wonwoo the most. She’s polite as she can be for Lisa and Mingyu’s sake, but everyone knows they get on as well as fire and water. 

“Who are you?” you question, eyes widening at the impersonator perched at your feet.

Amina cackles in response, and you can’t help but join. 

“You had fun, right?” Amina asks, waiting for your nod before continuing.“Okay, then who cares?”

“You don’t?” 

“No,” Amina sighs. “You’ve been…” 

She pauses, weighing her next words. “...down, since Seungcheol left. Maybe this is what you needed to get back out there.”

You start to object but fail to find any evidence against her claim. Seungcheol leaving turned your world upside down. You couldn’t hate him. It wasn’t like he didn’t try to make things work. But there was nothing for you in Seattle, just like there was nothing for him in New York. Other than each other. Somehow it’s much harder when no one is to blame other than unchangeable circumstances.

Amina rubs your knee over the covers. “It’s not my business who you sleep with. Unless you bring him here and I hear you, then I reserve the right to kill you both.” 

“Trust me, it won’t be happening again.”

“Why?” Now it’s Amina’s turn to be shocked. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” You blurt, face heating at the sudden outburst. “It was just a one time thing. Get it out of the system.”

Amina hums. Silence falling between you.

“So… was he better than Seungcheol?” Amina asks like she doesn’t care either way but you know she’s curious. She heard enough times about the lack of chemistry between you and Seungcheol for to have a vested interest in your sex life.

Truthfully, he was. The best experience with Seungcheol paled in comparison next to your night with Wonwoo. 

Taking silence as an answer, Amina stands.

“Get dressed. Eva is already on the way here to pick us up.” 

She leaves with out another word.

Across town, Wonwoo contemplates the ramifications of murder. 

The morning after a night like his should have him walking around like the sun shined out of his ass. Instead, the most annoying person in the city chose to rain on his parade. That person is coincidentally his best friend's girlfriend.

If it hadn’t been for Lisa’s shouts this morning, he’s more than confident you would have agreed to a repeat of the nights events. Maybe even two or three if he was lucky.

But no, you sprinted from his bed the second he feigned sleep. Watching through barely cracked eyes, he almost broke his cover when you nearly fell head first into the door knob, hastily trying to pull your pants up and walk at the same time. 

Wonwoo let you go, no snide comments or crude remarks. He knew if he wanted you to return to his bed then the best way was to bite his tongue. Goading had worked the first time, now he’d have to let your curiosity get the better of you. You would come back sooner or later, and he'd be ready when it happened.

He’d given you a few minutes to find your way out, hoping you avoided Lisa and saved you both the embarrassment. The slam of the front door and lack of screaming informed him of your success. Wanting to make sure you were long gone before he exited his room, Wonwoo took his time brushing his teeth. Catching himself in the mirror, his reflection gave a self-satisfied smirk. The stain of your teeth and lips contrasted against his skin and his back stung along the raised red welts from your nails.

Flicking off the light, Wonwoo heads towards back to his room. Lisa will demand audience sooner or later and it's better if he rips the bandaid off now. In his peripheral, a swatch of pale pink fabric tucked underneath one of the legs of his dresser catches his attention. Ducking down, he puls at the stretch of cotton. Lifting them up to inspect the out of place garment, Wonwoo finds himself face to face with your panties. He huffs a laugh before crumbling them in his hand, and tossing them in the hamper on the way out of his room. 

Lisa waits for him at the dining table; commanding the head seat like a mob boss.

From her perch, she watches him with keen interest that makes his bowl of cereal taste like mush. Mingyu already excused himself to take a shower before Wonwoo sat down, attempting to avoid the ensuing blow out. 

Every question is answered with one word answers or dismissive grunts. Even Lisa’s attempts to bait him into unrelated arguments roll off. Lisa chisels away at any sign of weakness but Wonwoo refuses to give her the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. It’s none of her business. Even if you’re her best friend.

Wonwoo counts his blessings when a call comes through her phone, the vibration on the table interrupting her attempt to burn a hole through his skull. Lisa rises to answer, pacing the kitchen while the feminine voice coming out the receiver chatters on. She ducks her head into Mingyu’s room, bidding him farewell. As she passes Wonwoo again on her way out, she gives him another furious look to let him know she isn’t done with their “conversation”. 

To rub salt in the wound, Wonwoo sends her off with an overly friendly smile and a wiggle of his fingers. He wipes down his face when the door slam shuts, shoulders dropping.  He knew hooking up with you might cause problems. He didn’t know they would become evident so quickly, but problems nonetheless. 

Worth it, he thinks 

The look on her face when she came for him made anything Lisa planned to throw his worth the price.

Wonwoo didn’t care what any of them had to say, you both were grown adults. He wanted to sleep with and you wanted to sleep with him. End of conversation. Anyone else’s opinion meant nothing.

And if things go the way he thinks they will, he’ll get to see you in his bed again.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[natti-ice]

Private Dance- Eddie Munson.

Pairing: Stripper!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, stripping, alcohol consumption, oral sex on reader, p in v, unprotected sex, one night stand, like 2 uses of y/n I’m sorry😭 (2k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated<3

The dimly lit room vibrated from the song that blasted on the speakers at the DJ booth, the alcohol in your system had started to hit and you felt your stress start to leave your body.

Work had been hard for you the past few weeks, you were constantly trying to keep up with deadlines and had no time for yourself. Your friends had noticed that you really needed a break, they suggested you all go out to this new club that had just opened up. You weren't really into the club scene but you figured it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun.

You weren't one hundred percent sure but this didn't seem like a regular club, people were sitting in booths that faced an empty stage instead of being crowded on a big dancefloor. It was a little odd but you didn't think much of it. Most of the groups consisted of middle-aged women drunk off their asses, or young bachelorettes who were also drunk. You could tell from the happy yelling that happened every time a waiter came with more shots.

"Ladies if you'd please direct your attention to the stage, the show is about to begin" cheers immediately erupt from all the women in the room

The music changed to a more sensual song, you were a bit confused but intrigued as to what was about to happen. A man walked out on the stage, then another, then one more. The three men were missing their shirts, all the wore were dress pants and bow ties. That was when it hit you

I'm at a strip club.

The women screamed even louder as the three men began to dance provocatively, thrusting and gyrating to the music.

"You didn't tell me this was a strip club!" You yelled to your best friend who was also screaming for the men

"Sorry hon, this was the only way we knew you'd come" her apology wasn't that sincere since she was enjoying the show too much to care.

You weren't a prude, you just didn't see the appeal in these kinds of places, you didn't want to ruin your friends night so you didn't argue. You watched the show, trying your best to enjoy yourself. The men weren't ugly thankfully, all were fit and decent dancers, there was one who was different though.

He had long shaggy hair the others were clean cut, he had tattoos on his body and he didn't seem like he was trying to appease the crowd. He was just having fun. You watched him the entire performance

After a few minutes the song ended and the men came off the stage, each of them seemed to have different destinations. You were surprised when the long haired man came towards your table. You looked around at your friends to see if they were as confused as you but they all were giddy. Something was up.

"Hello ladies, how are we this evening?" He asked like a gentleman

"Good" your friends said in unison

"That's great to hear, now which one of you is y/n?" Immediately your heart started racing, why was he looking for you

"Ummm I am" you spoke, it sounded more like a question than a statement

"Are you ready for your private dance?"

Your eyes widened, you had no clue what he was talking about "sorry what?" You asked

He was also a bit confused, he looked around at your friends then back to you "sorry, I thought y/n was getting the dance"

"Oh no she is" your best friend pipped up, before leaning over to whisper in your ear "happy early birthday"

"You got me a stripper?" You whisper yelled

"I did, babe you need to loosen up a bit. Take your mind off of work, enjoy yourself" she said before lightly pushing you to get out of the booth. You stood to your feet, now eye to eye with the stripper

"Ready?" He asked

"Umhm" you swallowed

"Right this way" he said before lightly holding your arm to guide you toward the back of the club

You heard many things about these private dances, you knew how this was going to end. You were going to have sex with a stranger, you thankfully had enough alcohol in your system to not over think it.

"What's your name?" You questioned

"It's Eddie" he smiled

He has a very cute smile you thought

Once you two made it to the room he opened the door "ladies first" as he gestured you to walk in, you took a deep breath. It was happening.

He shut the door behind you, the music was muffled but still shook the room. You were nervous but excited, you had never done anything like this before, you had never been to a strip club before let alone receive a private dance from a stripper. 

The lighting was similar to the stage room, the room was furnished with a black leather love seat, a small boom box in the corner, and a round table with drink coasters. You stood in the middle of the room not quite sure what to do with yourself, he noticed your timid movements and placed a gentle hand on your lower back.

"Take a seat, love. No need to be nervous" his voiced calmed your nerves a bit as you followed his order.

He walks over to the boom box and looks through a few cassettes that sit on top

"Is it that obvious?" You ask with a light laugh to hide your embarrassment

"A little" he laughed, he found which tape he wanted and inserted it into the boom box "don't worry, I'll be gentle" he looked up at you and smirked

You heart started to beat a little harder than it was a few seconds ago, the music started playing a moment later, Eddie started to walk over to you. Nothing about him is threatening, his demeanor was friendly and inviting but also seductive. He started to feel the best of the music, moving his body the tempo and humming along. The light hit his body just right, he glistened from the thin layer of baby oil that covered his abdomen. He saw you staring.

Eddie grabbed one of your wrists and brought your hand up to his abs, you instinctively pulled your hand back.

"It's okay" he assures reaching for your hand once more "you can touch them" he lets go of your hand allowing you free rein of his body

You caress his warm skin, he was toned but not ripped, his dress pants were cut low enough his v was showing. You allowed your hands to travel further, mindlessly tracing the curves of his body. He laughed as he watched you enjoy yourself.

He slowly straddled you, your hand hold onto his waist as he caressed your neck. You started to feel a twitch between your legs as he touched you, you wanted to kiss him.

"Are you from around here?" He asked pulling you out of your daze

"Yeah, I don't live that far from here. You?" You replied

"Unfortunately" he laughed but you could tell he meant it "one day me and my band are gonna take off"

"You're in a band?" You asked a bit of excitement in your voice, he nods "that's hot" you whisper, a slight smirk on your face

You didn't know what came over you but you wanted him, bad.

"Oh yeah?" He asked playfully "well lucky for you, I'm yours all night"

He leaned down replacing his hands with his mouth, littering kisses all over your neck moving his way up, light moans left your mouth. He traveled to your ear nibbling on your lobe before he whispered "are you sure you want to do this?"

You knew what he was talking about and you knew you wanted it, "yes" you whispered back

He pulled back slightly before attaching his lips to yours, his lips were soft but his kisses were passionate, his cradled your face deepening the kiss. His free hand moved down to your shirt unfastening the buttons, pulling it off, and exposing your clothed breasts. He palmed one tit before reaching behind and unclasping your bra one handed.

He was a pro.

Once both of your tits were exposed, he stood up without breaking the kiss, he spread your legs a bit allowing him to kneel in front of you.

He broke the kiss and started trailing kisses down your body, you caught your breath as he took one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking.

You moaned at the sensitivity of your nipples, you felt yourself becoming wet as thoughts of him fucking you played in your head. After giving your tits the attention they deserve, he continues kissing down your body.

Once he's at your pants, he unbuttons them and slowly starts pulling the down, he doesn't break eye contact in case you want him to stop. After he gets your pants off your left in just your panties and heels. He pulls you forward so your ass was at the edge of the loveseat, he starts kissing your inner thigh, this sends tingles up your spine. He hovers over your clothed cunt, his warm breath excites you before he begins kissing the other thigh.

You were becoming impatient, you wanted him to touch you so bad. You squirmed as he got further away from your pussy. He chuckled into you leg,

"No need to rush sweetheart, we have all night" he finally made his way back to your cunt. He kissed up and down, your panties became soaked as he used his tongue to tease you. You let a few moans slip, you didn't want to be too loud. Not everyone needed to know you were fucking.

He took two fingers and ran them under your panties, his finger grazed your clit making you gasp slightly, he pulled the fabric to the side before licking your clit. His tongue was heavenly, it was like he knew exactly what you liked. He went to town on your pussy, he ate it like it was his last meal. You gripped his hair when you felt yourself getting close

"I’m g-gonna cum" you breathed out you tried to contain yourself, your legs wrapped around his body as he increased his motions. He circled your clit a few more times before you reached your high, he hummed into your pussy as your cum filled his mouth.

He finally came up for air, he stood up in front of you and you could see his erection through his pants, he was not lacking at all. He pulled you in for a kiss as he ripped your panties off, he rubbed himself through his pants before pulling them off. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices covered his face.

"Get on your stomach" he ordered

You did as he said, you laid on the couch and put your ass in the air. He got behind you, he took his dick and rubbed it up and down your throbbing pussy.

Before he put it in he bent down toward your face and said "you can be as loud as you want baby, no one will hear". He slowly pushed himself into your entrance, he moaned as your tight cunt took his dick. He began thrusting in and out, you already felt pure pleasure. No one you had sex with before did it like him. He gripped your waist as he quicken his pace, he wasn't quiet and neither were you. Both of your moans filled the room, it was pure euphoria that you had never experienced.

You had become so lost in your pleasure, you lost count of how many times you came, you forgot where you were and had no idea what time it was. You knew it was all about to be over because you heard

"Ah fuck" Eddie said as he pulled out, his warm cum shot all over your back. Your body was weak, he had fucked you so hard most of your limbs had gone numb. You both took your time recovering from the amazing sex you just had, you wondered if you'd ever see him again.

If you did, would this happen again?

[rispwr]

expect the unexpected - myg - os

pairings : idol! myg x bartender! reader

sypnosis: meeting an idol at a bar as a bartender? Especially the fact that it was your favourite idol, was definitely was not in your expectations, knowing well the media is all around you both.

word count: 5k+

contents/warnings: smut, ykyk, idol x fan, s2l, fast burn or whatever u call it, unprotected sxx, public media hate?, full of suprises, pwp, oral(fem recieving), slight tit play,

Not proofread

The pounding bass of the club reverberated through my chest as I worked my way behind the bar, pouring drinks with precision and a smile, despite how tired I was feeling. The club was packed tonight, bodies swaying under neon lights, laughter and chatter mixing with the pulsing music. It was another typical Friday night, one where I’d usually lose myself in the rhythm of the job, letting the hustle and bustle distract me from anything going on in my personal life.

But tonight, something felt different. There was an odd tension in the air, or maybe it was just my own nerves after hearing earlier in the day that there was going to be a high-profile guest at the club. I didn’t know who it would be, but the manager had warned us to be on our best behavior. I usually was, but the anticipation had been gnawing at me all evening, especially as the hours ticked closer to closing time.

I wiped down the counter for the hundredth time that night, glancing at the crowd every now and then, hoping to spot the mystery guest. Maybe it would be someone cool, like an actor or a famous DJ. Little did I know, my whole world was about to shift in the next few minutes.

The door opened, and I noticed someone walk in, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was him.

Min Yoongi.

My heart skipped a beat, then pounded furiously in my chest. Oh my god, it’s really him. Min Yoongi, the man I’d admired for years, the genius behind so many of my favorite songs. His music had been my escape, my motivation, my comfort on so many days. And now, here he was, stepping into the very club where I worked. My hands were shaking just thinking about it.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry, as I watched him casually approach the bar. His presence commanded the space, even though he moved with such a laid-back aura, his black leather jacket clinging to him effortlessly. He glanced around briefly before his eyes landed on me, and I froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Stay calm, Y/N. You’re a professional. You can’t freak out right now.

"Good evening, sir. What can I get you?" I somehow managed to ask, though my voice came out shaky. My palms were sweating, and I was sure my face was flushed.

Yoongi’s gaze softened as a small smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Does the drink come with the bartender making it?" he joked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it off like I wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. "You’re very funny, sir," I replied, forcing a smile. Act normal, Y/N, act normal.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart racing again. "What can you recommend?" he asked, leaning slightly on the counter, his eyes still locked on mine.

I was momentarily speechless, my brain scrambling to function. What was a good drink?

I bit my lip, trying to focus despite the intensity of his gaze. "Aperol Spritz," I blurted out, my voice still shaky. It was a safe choice, something light but classy. I was hoping he’d go for it.

"That sounds good," he said, giving me a warm, gummy smile that nearly melted me on the spot. His smile—it was even more beautiful in person than I’d ever imagined.

I quickly turned to grab the ingredients, my hands trembling slightly as I started mixing the drink. I could feel his eyes on me, and it was driving me insane. The way he leaned against the bar, so casual, so effortlessly cool—it was like a scene out of a movie, one I never thought I’d be part of.

As I focused on mixing the drink, I heard him speak again, his voice low and curious. "What time’s your shift end?"

My hand faltered for a moment, nearly spilling the Aperol. "Uh, 10 p.m.," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was thudding in my chest. Why was he asking about my shift?

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself, focusing on the drink to avoid looking directly at him.

"May I take you out?" His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I almost dropped the glass.

I choked on my own breath, coughing slightly in surprise. Did I just hear that right? My idol, the man whose music had shaped so much of my life, was asking to take me out? It felt surreal, like a dream I didn’t dare believe was happening.

"Sir—" I started to protest, my mind racing with confusion, excitement, and nerves all at once.

He cut me off, that same playful smirk still on his lips. "Just get my number then."

Before I could even react, he reached over and gently grabbed my wrist, pulling out a pen from his jacket. My breath hitched as I felt the warmth of his fingers on my skin. With a few quick strokes, he scribbled his number on my wrist.

"Call me. Please," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. His eyes met mine again, and for a moment, everything else in the club disappeared. It was just me and him, locked in this surreal moment that I knew I would remember for the rest of my life.

I blinked, still trying to process everything as I finished making his drink and handed it to him. He took it with that same easy confidence, his fingers brushing against mine briefly before he lifted the glass to his lips.

The way he drank the Aperol Spritz—quickly, effortlessly, like it was water—was somehow the hottest thing I had ever seen. My eyes were glued to him, watching as he downed the drink with a casual grace that left me even more flustered than before.

When he set the glass down, he gave me one last smile before standing up from the bar. I watched, completely starstruck, as he slowly made his way out of the club, disappearing into the night like some kind of ethereal being.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, still clutching the bar counter, my mind reeling from what had just happened. My idol—Min Yoongi—had not only spoken to me, but he had given me his number.

Holy cow.

It felt too good to be true. I glanced down at my wrist, at the messy numbers scrawled there, and my heart skipped another beat. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

I was still buzzing with excitement and disbelief as I continued working, but my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi, to the way he had looked at me, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on mine. The rest of my shift flew by in a blur, and when 10 p.m. finally rolled around, I couldn’t get out of the club fast enough.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my phone, staring at the numbers on my wrist. My fingers hovered over the keypad, nerves bubbling up inside of me. Should I really call him? What if this was all a joke, or worse, what if he didn’t even remember me?

But then I thought about the way he had smiled at me, the way his eyes had lingered just a little too long. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I finally dialed the number. The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

My heart leaped into my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t find my voice. "Uh, hi... it’s Y/N. From the club."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then I heard his soft chuckle. "Ah, the bartender. I’m glad you called."

I bit my lip, trying to hide my giddiness. "Yeah, well, you kind of gave me no choice," I teased lightly.

"Fair enough," he replied, amusement in his voice. "So, what do you say? Still up for going out?"

I glanced around, my nerves suddenly replaced with excitement. "Yeah, I think I am."

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as I sat at my vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to my makeup. I was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness; today wasn’t just any day—it was my first real date with Min Yoongi after i literally spent the whole night talking to him. The Yoongi. My heart raced at the thought of spending time with him outside of the club, just the two of us, with no distractions.

I had barely finished putting on my lipstick when my phone rang, causing me to jump slightly. I grabbed it quickly, seeing his name flash on the screen.

"Hey," his deep voice flowed through the line, smooth and warm. "I'll pick you up. Send me your address, pretty."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Pretty. He called me that so casually, yet it made my heart skip a beat every time. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice betrayed me with a soft chuckle. "Oh, okay," I replied, fumbling as I typed out my address and sent it to him.

He responded with a simple "Got it. See you soon," and I hung up, staring at my reflection for a moment longer. Okay, Y/N. You’ve got this. Just be yourself.

I opted for something casual but cute—an airy summer dress that I felt confident in, paired with my favorite sandals. I didn’t want to overdo it, but at the same time, I wanted to look good. After all, this wasn’t just any date. This was a date with Yoongi.

As I finished getting ready, I heard a knock on the door. My heart leaped, and I quickly checked my reflection one last time before rushing over to open it. The moment I pulled the door open, there he was.

Yoongi stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish outfit—a white button-down shirt, slightly rolled up at the sleeves, paired with black slacks. His black hair fell softly over his forehead, and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he took in my appearance.

For a brief moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. My face flushed under his gaze, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

"You look..." He paused, his lips curving into a small smile as he ran a hand through his hair. "So damn pretty."

His words made my heart flutter, and I laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I murmured, trying to play it cool, though inside I was melting.

He extended his hand toward me. "Shall we?"

I took his hand, his fingers warm against mine as he led me out of my apartment. As we walked to his car, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, still in awe of the fact that this was really happening. Yoongi—the man whose music I had adored for years—was holding my hand, and we were about to go on a date. It felt like a dream, one that I never wanted to wake up from.

Once we reached his car, Yoongi opened the passenger door for me, his actions gentlemanly and smooth. I slid in, my nerves settling slightly as I buckled my seatbelt and watched him move to the driver’s side. He got in and started the car, and soon enough, we were on our way.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, curious.

He glanced at me briefly, his smile returning. "It’s a surprise," he said cryptically, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh?"

"You’ll like it, I promise," he added, giving me a reassuring look. I trusted him, though I couldn’t deny that the mystery only added to the excitement bubbling in my chest.

As we drove, the conversation flowed easily between us. Yoongi was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite his usually quiet and reserved demeanor. He asked me about my work, my hobbies, and what I liked to do for fun, and I found myself opening up to him in a way that felt natural and comfortable.

In return, he shared little snippets of his life, telling me funny stories about his friends and how much he loved producing music. He talked about his love for quiet places, the serenity of sitting by a river with a notebook, just writing. It was moments like these that made me realize just how thoughtful and introspective he was—a side of him that wasn’t always visible in public.

After about thirty minutes of driving, we pulled up to a secluded park just on the outskirts of the city. It was beautiful—quiet, with large trees providing shade and a lake glistening in the sunlight.

"Wow," I breathed as I stepped out of the car. The peacefulness of the place immediately put me at ease, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind Yoongi’s choice.

He came around the car, taking my hand once again as we walked toward the lake. "I figured we could have a picnic," he said, nodding toward a small basket he had in the backseat.

My heart swelled at the idea. "A picnic? Aren't you scared we might caught by the media?" I grinned, looking up at him.

His ears turned a slight shade of pink, and he shrugged. "i don't really care about what the media says. i'm a human aswell"

I squeezed his hand gently, touched by the gesture. "well then, i love it"

We found a perfect spot under a large tree, the shade providing a cool relief from the warm sun. Yoongi laid out a blanket, and soon we were sitting together, the gentle breeze carrying the soft sounds of nature around us.

He opened the picnic basket, revealing an array of snacks—fruit, sandwiches, even a small bottle of wine. It was simple but thoughtful, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here with him.

As we ate, we continued talking, sharing more stories and laughing over silly things. At one point, Yoongi picked up a strawberry and held it out to me. "Here," he said, his eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle.

I giggled, leaning forward to take a bite, but at the last second, he pulled the strawberry away, smirking. "Too slow."

I playfully glared at him, crossing my arms. "Not fair," I pouted.

He chuckled, and after a moment, he held the strawberry out again, this time letting me take a bite. The sweet taste of the fruit was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me from his teasing smile.

Time seemed to pass effortlessly as we lounged together, enjoying the serenity of the park. At one point, Yoongi leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he soaked in the peaceful atmosphere. I took the opportunity to study him, admiring the way the sunlight filtered through the branches above, casting a soft glow on his face.

He looked so at peace, so content. And it made me feel the same.

After a while, he opened his eyes, catching me staring. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

"You’re beautiful, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my cheeks flush, my heart doing a little flip at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to hide my embarrassment with a playful smile.

He chuckled softly, but the way his eyes lingered on mine told me that he meant what he said.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the park, Yoongi stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We walked along the edge of the lake, the water reflecting the fading sunlight in a way that made everything feel almost magical. The world around us seemed to quiet down, the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance.

At one point, Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face me. His expression had softened, a look of quiet contemplation on his face.

"I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me today," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I looked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "I’m glad you asked me," I replied, my voice just as soft.

For a moment, we just stood there, the world around us fading into the background. It was just me and him, standing by the water, sharing a moment that felt almost too perfect to be real.

And then, without saying a word, Yoongi gently pulled me closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he leaned in. My heart raced, my breath hitching as his lips brushed against mine in the softest, sweetest kiss.

It was slow, tender, and filled with a warmth that spread through my entire body, leaving me breathless.

When we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing softly in the quiet evening air.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but I could hear the emotion behind it.

I smiled, my heart swelling with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. "For what?"

"For being here. For giving me a chance," he replied, his eyes soft and sincere.

I reached up, gently brushing my fingers through his hair. "You’re worth it," I whispered back.

It had been a whirlwind of a week since Yoongi and I started going on dates regularly. We’d been keeping things low-key, not caring too much about what the media might say. It was blissful—no pressure, no complications, just us. Every date felt like a slice of heaven, whether we were sneaking out for late-night drives or staying in to watch movies on the couch. Yoongi had a way of making everything feel easy, and for a while, I let myself believe that this little bubble we created could last forever.

But nothing ever stays hidden for long, especially when you're dating one of the most famous people in the world.

I was lying on my bed, doing my skincare routine with a sheet mask on, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. I wasn’t expecting to find anything upsetting. In fact, I was enjoying the downtime, a rare moment to myself. That was until I stumbled upon an article that instantly made my heart sink.

"Min Yoongi of BTS, spotted at a bar months ago, writing his number on a bartender's wrist."

I froze. My fingers hovered over the screen as I read the article in shock. The photo attached was blurry, but it was definitely me. I recognized the scene instantly—the night Yoongi had come to the club where I worked and had asked for my number. I remember being so shocked and flustered, and now the world had access to that private moment.

My heart pounded in my chest as I scrolled down, reading article after article, each one with more intrusive headlines. My stomach twisted in knots as I clicked on the comments section of one post.

"I found her IG!" "Is this the bartender?" "She’s dating Yoongi? How dare she!" "She’s not even that pretty."

Each comment was worse than the last. The hate spilled across the screen, words laced with venom from people who didn’t even know me, yet somehow felt entitled to tear me apart. My hands started shaking, and my eyes stung as I continued to read.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom opened, and Yoongi walked in. He looked relaxed, his usual calm self, but that all changed the moment he saw me. I was still lying on the bed, mask on, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. He crossed the room in a few strides, his expression instantly softening with concern as he approached.

"Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his deep voice low and soothing.

I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I kept scrolling, my heart sinking further with each hateful comment. I felt the bed dip as Yoongi sat down beside me. He leaned over, glancing at my phone. The moment he saw what I was looking at, his expression darkened.

“Baby, don’t listen to them,” he said softly, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away, still glued to the screen. I felt numb, my mind racing with thoughts about how much this could affect Yoongi’s life. The last thing I wanted was for my presence in his life to cause problems for him. I’d seen what rabid fans could do, how cruel the internet could be.

"She’s using him for clout." "Yoongi deserves better than her." "She’s just a nobody. How did she get his attention?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look anymore. My body trembled, and I let out a shaky breath.

"Y/N," Yoongi's voice was firmer now, but still gentle. He reached out again, taking the phone from my hands this time. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. He set it aside, his body shifting as he leaned over me, his arms wrapping around me tightly, pulling me into his embrace. His warmth was familiar and comforting, but I was too upset to melt into him like I usually would.

"Yoongi, I…" I struggled to find the words. "I don’t want to ruin your reputation."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, his arms still holding me close. “Baby, listen to me. This doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about what those people say.”

I opened my eyes, tears welling up as I looked up at him. "But what if they don’t stop, Yoongi? They’re already finding my social media, my pictures… It’s only going to get worse."

Yoongi gently brushed the hair away from my face, his eyes locking with mine. “I don’t care about them, Y/N. I care about you. They don’t know us, they don’t know you. And honestly, if they can’t accept that I’m dating someone, that’s on them. Not you.”

He leaned down, smashing his lips against mine, the kiss filled with urgency and a need to comfort me. My body responded instantly, my heart aching as I kissed him back, my hands gripping onto his shirt. His lips were soft, but the kiss was passionate, filled with emotion. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Y/N, I love you. I love you, not what the media says, not what the fans think. You’re the one I want, the one I’ve chosen," he muttered between small kisses, his lips grazing mine as he spoke.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Yoongi… I love you too. But I’m scared. I don’t want this to ruin everything you’ve worked for. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your fans.”

His eyes softened, and he brushed away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks. "You’re not ruining anything, okay? If people can’t handle the fact that I’m happy with you, then that’s their problem, not yours." He kissed me again, slower this time, his hands cupping my face gently. "Please don’t leave because of this. I need you."

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, but the doubt still lingered. I pulled away slightly, biting my lip. “But what if it gets worse? What if the media digs into my past, or my family? What if it becomes too much for you?”

Yoongi let out a small sigh, his fingers trailing softly along my jawline. “I’ve been dealing with the media for years, Y/N. They always find something to talk about, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll protect you from all of that, I promise.” He paused, searching my eyes for a moment before continuing. “we need a fandom cleanse anyway.”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his gaze. This wasn’t just about protecting his reputation—he truly cared about me, about us. And in that moment, I realized that no matter how much hate or negativity came our way, Yoongi and I had something real, something that wasn’t going to be torn apart by strangers on the internet.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since I saw that article, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Yoongi wasn’t just saying empty words—he meant it. And I knew that no matter how tough things got, we’d find a way to navigate through it together.

We lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside fading away as I found comfort in his arms. He held me close, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside me. Eventually, the anxiety that had been gnawing at me began to fade, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Yoongi kissed my forehead, his voice soft as he spoke. “Let’s just focus on us, okay? Don’t let those people get into your head. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

I nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of warm, electrifying kisses as he pressed closer, his body hovering over mine. I could feel his breath against my skin, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. His hands roamed over my body, soft but firm, as if he was memorizing every curve. I let out a soft whimper, my head tilting back to give him more access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Yoongi…" I whined, my voice barely a whisper, breathless from the way his mouth moved against my skin. His name slipped past my lips, a plea hidden in the sound, and I felt him smirk against my neck.

“Hm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against me, sending a jolt through my body. He moved to my ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe before pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “What do you need, baby?” His voice was low, teasing, but I could see the dark hunger in his gaze.

I bit my lip, feeling the heat build up inside me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Need you…" I moaned lowly, my body arching beneath his as I tugged on his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer.

He groaned softly, his lips grazing mine before he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping past my lips in a slow, deliberate dance. The intensity made my head spin, and I could feel my body reacting to him, craving him.

Reaching for my phone, I unlocked it with shaky fingers and quickly scrolled through my playlist until I found the perfect song to match the mood—“Pretty When You Cry” by Lana Del Rey. As soon as the haunting melody filled the room, I dropped the phone to the side, letting the music set the atmosphere.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the phone, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the song played. “Good choice,” he whispered, his voice a mix of admiration and desire. He kissed me again, this time rougher, more intense, like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The music filled the room, the sensual beats of Lana’s voice blending with the sounds of our breathless kisses and the soft moans escaping my lips. 

"i love you so much y/n. from the moment i saw you i already loved you" he says in between the kisses. "may i?" he asks me and without hesitation i nod. nothing will be ever hotter than a man asking for consent. making sure i'm comfortable and alright with what he's doing.

 he slowly goes down to my lower part. sliding down my shorts, revealing my damped panty with a wet patch on it "so wet. all for me? hm?" he coos, rubbing circles on my clothed clit, my back arching just from his touch. "already? i'm not even doing anythig yet baby" he says chuckling. his teeth then bites on the hem of my panty, sliding it down to get full access of my cunt. "are you ready? we can stop if you want" he assures me "fuck no..keep going yoongs" i reply to him, shaky voice. 

his tounge then starts to circle my clit, making my eyes roll back. him, smiling at the lewd noises i make, enjoying this. my hands makes it's way to his hair, tugging it. his tounge then starts to do it's magic. "fuck yoongs! they were right! your tounge technology is insane" i whimper, broken words, unable to speak fully with all the pleasure he's been giving me. "i-im coming!" i mewl, tightening my grip on his hair "yes baby, cum on my face yeah?" he says in between. i then couldn't take it anymore.

i felt my orgasm nearing, releasing white liquids on his face. he then faces to me, fuck he is so hot. especially with my liquids on his face. i then take off my shirt revealing my naked breast, i then cup his face, smashing my lips onto him, mixed with lust and love. "yoongs need you..fuck me please" i whimpered onto him, making him give me a smirk. he then starts to unbuckle his belt, sliding down his pants, revealing his erected cock, leaking with pre cum. "i'm clean, on birth control" i said "great" he replies, diving back onto the kiss. 

his hands makes it's way to my breast, playing with my nipples as i feel his tip enter me "fuck, you're so tight" he grunts in between the kiss "you're mine, alright?" he says, deep voice, making me absolutely crazy. "fuck...yes i am" i reply, whimpering. "good girl" he chuckles, as our body releases wet noises and the bed creaking rhythmically in every thrust he makes. "yoongs..i'm close" i breathly said, not even a whisper nor a whimper anymore. "come with me baby yeah? cum for me" he says, biting his lips, looking at me. 

"open your eyes. i want you to see who's making you cum" i then try my best in keeping my eyes open. i then felt my orgasm nearing, releasing my liquids once again. "baby wait for me, i'm almost there" he howls, "fuck, want me to cum inside you? hm? you'd like that don't you??" he says, while leaving a chuckle. "min yoongi!" i scream as i felt his release inside me, filling me to the brim, our liquids mixing with each other. 

assurance sex is fucking great.

he then falls on top of me giving me a peck on my cheek "i love you, will you be my girlfriend?" he says revealing his gummy smile "yes i will" i give him a smile back, happily knowing i have him as mine, and me as his.

[chaoticladyfire]

Things I screamed about in ATSV (spoilers)

-Got to rewatch the film so I’m just going to add the colours changing to warmer tones when Gwen hugs her father. Not even ten minutes in and I was already crying.

-Realised that we missed the Gwen-Vulture fight BUT got to see Jessica Drew enter the scene like a bad ass in her bad ass bike and hearing the audience collectively say ‘me too’ when Gwen asked if Jessica could adopt her. 

-Screaming OSCAR ISAAC when Miguel spoke

-Lyla. Just Lyla.

- ‘Do you say anything other than no?’ ‘No-YES!’ more of miguel and jessica pls

-The Spot’s introduction. I didn’t see any promotional stuff, teasers or even trailers before watching this film so I had no idea who or what the The Spot was which was great because he really went from villain of the week to villain of the movie. And they clearly had a great time choreographing the fight scenes with him

-Miles’ heating up the beef patty while the spot and the convenience store man argue

-Miles patting the spot’s with a ‘good cow’ text

-Gwen and Miles both having to deepen their voices to avoid being recognised by their respective cop dads

-Miles saying that he can get two cakes when the counsellor says you can’t have your cake and eat it too and then bringing two cakes for his father’s party and neither of them saying what he wanted to convey. 

-Rio and Jeff scolding an annoyed miles but instantly smiling when a relative hugs them what an universal experience 

-Gwen teasing Miles for drawing her in his notebook almost obsessively but also breaking the biggest rule to spend time with him knowing the consequences. 

-As they went to talk, my friend leaned over and said ‘yeah I bet they will talk’ and when they only talked he groaned very loudly at which point I had to remind him Miles was only 15 

-Watching Jeff talk to Spiderman about his son not knowing his son is spiderman

-The DJ increasing the volume when Miles’ parents started scolding him in the middle of the party (the real mvp of the movie actually) 

-JK Simmons cameo that no one seems to be talking about??? Embarrassingly enough I had to literally scream into my friend’s ear for most of the people to realise it was indeed JK Simmons

-Just the entire Mumbattan scene. It was so exciting to see my city be represented like that, still a bit cliched in my opinion but not like Slumdog so obviously they have updated their views. Everything from the traffic gag to Pav’s rant about chai tea had the theatre howling. Also the detail of the thought boxes (?) and sounds being written in Hindi 

-Screaming DANIEL KALUUYA

-My friend and I are huge fans of the UK punk scene (her for the ideologies and myself for the music and fashion) so Hobie was a dream come true. He was already super cool with his guitar and mohawk costume but when he revealed his face it was just so amazing

-Gayatri is every indian’s dream girl with her modern shirt-flannel and jeans combo mixed with bangles and piercings I really wish we get to see more of her in the next movie. Anyway there was a lot of wolf-whistling and hooting for her and Pav

-Also Pavitr literally means pure I don’t know if they did that on purpose or not but I love it

-His pet name being Pav cured my soul

-’This is the most emotional I have seen him’ and Captain Singh has no emotions at all

-I want to see how they came up with so many spider designs because each was so unique and immediately endearing. My friend who is also a big dinosaur fan screamed DINOSAUR 

-Kind of obsessed with how detailed Ben Reilly’s arms are they did not need to go that hard with it

-Tom Holland’s Spider-Man being referred to as ‘the little nerd’ by Miguel

-When everyone was making puns about the Spot my friend leaned over and said ‘i wonder which hole the spot prefers’ it is a miracle we are still friends actually

-The Donald Grover cameo!!!

-Peter B Parker having a cute little baby with the love of his life is what he deserves

-Miguel O Hara is one step away from becoming a Batman-Spiderman 

-Hobie’s admiration for Mayday being the avatar of chaos Spider-baby

-Screaming ANDY SAMBERG

-I think they saw the appreciation for the art style in the previous film and then trebled it for this film and I cannot thank them enough for it

-Peter complaining about how Miguel breaks the Spiderman tradition of being funny and witty and Miguel being the first anomaly 

-Every scene with the Spot is very unnerving because as I said, you watch him transform from this joker to a literal void of vengeance and it is every bit of terrifying

-Miguel is a man suffering from the destruction of an entire universe because of his selfish actions and forcing that anomaly narrative on a fifteen year old boy who became a spiderman on accident and doesn’t want his father to die because of that. Unlike the Spot, who isn’t even human anymore, Miguel is drowning in grief and guilt and trying to ignore it by holding the weight of the spider-verse on his shoulder. I hated him so much for making a boy go through that but then I just couldn’t in the end. 

-Andrew Garfield and Tobey Maguire cameo!!! Hopefully we’ll get a fun Tom Holland one too in the next movie.

-’Let me guess, he died?’ being a therapist for Spider Men must be a fairly boring job after a few patients.

-I just loved the absolute of wrongness of the scene where Miles returns ‘home’. The rain and darkness. I didn’t really think about Rio asking Miles what happened to his hair because I thought she was referring to the rain (although of course she wouldn’t ask him why his hair was wet when it was obviously raining outside) but realised something was wrong when he didn’t know about comic con but she did because in the first film there’s a joke about Peter B Parker explaining the concept to Miles. 

- This movie is not good for my father related issues

-The glaring neon welcome sign when the gang end up in Earth 42

-How did Uncle Aaron get even scarier? 

-Miles being the Prowler is honestly a great twist I saw it coming but still felt the shock of the reveal

-Prowler Miles having an accented voice meaning his father probably died when he was young and he only had his mom growing up

-Can’t wait for the original spider team to return for the third film seeing as they brought back Spider-Man Noir and Spider Ham and Peni Parker

-Screaming WHAT when the ‘to be continued’ appeared because that cliffhanger is absolutely destructive. All that adrenaline and excitement just popped. I’m still oscillating between being impressed and being disappointed. 

I probably skipped over a lot of other scenes because these were the most memorable and I only watched the film once (unfortunate) but I can’t wait for the movie to hit streaming services and watch it again and again for all the other details I missed. Ill probably keep adding things as I remember

[nysrage]

THE HOUSE PARTY, Onyankopon.

synopsis: after long nights of studying & days of grueling tests, you needed an outlet to relax. you didn’t expect to do it with your crush though.

content: ony’s an alpha, college au, house party, sororities & fraternities, alcohol, explicit language, sexual tension, college ‘crush’ that’s rlly yo man, a smidge of fluff, & smut.

nys note: would you believe this was all inspired from the twitter link below… lol it’s giving ‘options’ remix for ony.

Midterms had finally come to an end and everyone on campus could finally take a deep breath. whether they passed or failed, they were all looking for an outlet to get school work off their mind. Including you. The first year of college has been an adjustment, juggling school and finally being on your own. exploring different sides of yourself, making friends and losing bonds that you thought would last forever. it could all pile up at times. plus the overwhelming tears were growing old, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you seeked a party was because you wanted to see your lil ‘friend’ tonight too. midterms had the two of you so busy with little time to speak focused on nothing but your education. so you decided to join the scene with your girls.

The street of the apartment complex was full of people either just arriving, talking, smoking, or waiting to get behind that door of the house party. Thrumming of the speakers could be heard before even reaching the top of the stairs, the opening door pouring out clouded smoke soon as it opens. You and your group of friends navigate through the crowd. Each of your index fingers locked into eachothers belt loops so no one could get lost or pulled away without notice. The house dimmed and filled with ambient led lights. People of all different backgrounds crowded to each corner with either a cup, blunt, or some ass in their hands. Letting loose for the night and celebrating their time as a college student.

You and your group of 3 settled behind the enclosed circle of people dancing and catching ass. Finally happy with the view you had of everyone and the exits of the place, throwing back a couple shots and dancing to the music. Recording the whole moment on the camcorder your influencer bestie brought to vlog her stay. The content being provided to her back to back since the night began, and even more more since that whistle of the sorrors and frats began. The intro of ‘another nasty song’ oozing out of the speakers, groups of people surrounding the greeks as they lineup for their strolls.

The alphas happening to be right next to you and your friends, performing their stroll so perfectly. That black and old gold contrasting nicely against their skin. One alpha in particular catching your eyes. Onyankopon, your lil friend that you found yourself pinning over since you stepped onto campus. Nice chocolatey smooth skin, thick brows, full lips, and a small faded curly fro. Dimpled cheeks and pretty white teeth on display as he strolls, glancing over the surrounding people until they landed on you. Looking you over real good, biting down on his bottom lip between their signature words “Who You Wit?” Many of their seducing looks they give to their audience.

The dj transitioning into the throwbacks once the strolls were done. ‘party’ by beyoncé filling the room, as your favorite alpha towered over you. “okayy, friend! you lit huh?” you giggled, giving him a playful pat to the chest. “What’s goin’? Ain’t seen you in a minute.” acknowledging your nosy friends with a nod, busy whispering and betting on when y’all would cut the act. “Been out the way, y’all new jackets are nicee!” Toying with the zipper on his fraternities varsity jacket, looking himself over slightly with a smirk. “Preciatee it, preciatee it.. You look good too.” His monotone voice barely audible over the blasting music. Leaving you leaning in to hear his words best you could, “Huh? Couldn’t hear you.” just for ony to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you close, sexy voice speaking intently in your ear. “You look good as fuck right now.”

“Thank you.” whispering back shyly, all flustered and looking anywhere but his face. Refusing to fall into the trap of men, but the longer you two talked to each other the more you found yourself wanting him more. He was upperclass, only by a year but he was still very known around camp, and not bad looking in the least. Walking different girls to class, seducing woke with one look during his stroll, and always dressed to impress whether it’s chill or not. You wanted nothing to do with being another girl in his roster, but the two always seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Ony glanced behind him, scoping out the small space. “C’mere..” taking your hands in his and pulling you close to dance, swaying your body back and forth. Ony bending down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Missed you pretty girl.” His voice deep and smooth, traveling from your ear and straight to your core. “Looking and smelling all delicious tonight.” running his hands along your hips, admiring the slight fit your put on for the function. “Someone’s had a few, been partying good huh?” Dodging those little comments, trying your best to steer the convo but ony wasn’t having it. Not tonight. “This cool n’ all, I was really tryna be on sum chill tonight.”

“Really? after being tied down to class these past few weeks.” not convinced of anything but ony was persistent. “even after being tied down.”

Replying with a small hum, the tension between you was louder than the speakers in the room. Ony just staring at your pretty face without much to say, nerves leaving you rocking back and forth. “what..?”

“tryna follow me? need to talk to you.” Maybe it was the liquid courage but tonight you’d take your chances even if it was for one night only. So you let your friends know of your whereabouts, and followed him to his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Walking around the space, taking it all in. Very neat, cozy, and smelled of mahogany teakwood. His desk area full of intricately placed papers and photos of his personal achievement, family, and friends. The click of the door and his voice pulls your mind away from the frames. “Why you keep playing?”

“We’ll your bold all of a sudden..” You huffed, typing away nervously at your phone. Randomly in your bestfriend message thread just to avoid those pretty brown eyes you always got so lost in. “M’serious. Why you playing games?”

“This got to be the liquor talking.” You chuckled, pushing your hair from in your face. “I don’t play games ony..” Finally meeting his eyes, arms crossed as the two of you went back and forth. “Mmcht, ain’t no need for liquid courage. This oblivious shit ain’t getting me where I need to be, and that’s with you.”

“There’s nothing oblivious here ony..” Trying to convince not only him but yourself. You couldn’t grow weak in the knees the first time he pressed your relationship, not when he could be filling your ear with anything he wants. “So you can tell me face to face that you don’t want me too..?” Voice sweet and sincere. His eyes darting nervously around your face waiting for your answer. Not one cocky or proud bone in his body that led you to believe he was feeding you bullshit for just another notch in his belt. All of those walls falling just enough to let him in, finally admitting to yourself that the attraction was mutual. “I c-can’t, cause I want you too.”

Ony takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips from your nervousness. Thumb lifting your chin to put that pretty face on display for him. Running the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your face. “You know you my baby, lemme in that pretty mind of yours. So I can get to know all of you and make you mine.” and those words were sealed with the soft feeling of his lips on yours. A small peck that had you going back on every single word you meant to stand on. “You gone stay with me..?” Nodding your head with a soft smile. Ony pulling you in for yet another kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and intertwining it with yours. Swallowing the whimper you gave him when his strong hand collided with your ass. Kiss so hot and steamy that it lead you right into his bed, where you’ve wanted to be for as long as the two of you were friends.

“o-ohh my godd!” Moaning out loud as you wanted, every sound from his room drowned out by the thrumming speakers in the distance. House party still going strong whether he’d been occupied or not.

Lips red and swollen from how much you’ve been biting down hard on your lip while ony had you in doggy, taking his deep strokes. Moans falling constantly from your lips while your warm slick pooled around his pretty brown dick. Filling you up so full and caressing that sweet spot within, strong hips colliding with your ass as ony watches the recoil. “Mmm, damn that pussy feel so fucking good.” hand gripping at your fleshy hip, eyes focused on where the two of you were connected. listening to the beautiful sounds of his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit, and the gushing squelch of your pussy had him losing himself inside you. His moans and groans mixing with yours as he gave you every inch of that dick. “mh—ouu, shittt. mhmm.” voice shaking from that fast approaching nut he’d been holding out on. Wanting a few more out of you himself before he was finished with you.

“Yes onyy, you fuck me so good!” but after these few words from you, he found himself letting go. “Yea, you like this dick?” hips pistoning faster, pounding into you hard and steady leaving your eyes meeting the back of your skull. Wet two-toned pussy gripping him tight to suck him in deeper, as a strings of incoherent moans were exchanged between you too. “ima give you all the dick you want.” Angling his hips towards that spot that greeted him with a stream of squirt, drenching both your thighs and his pelvis. Dick barely staying inside from how wet you were for him. Pulling out and leaving hot streams of nut on your ass, panting and moaning as he came back to. That heavy feeling of something sitting atop of your ass never fading, “Your still hard..?” you questioned, looking back at him with your pretty fucked out face. Giving him that last push to have him standing at attention again.

“you thought i was done?” he chuckled, sinking back into you with a loud squelch.

[kleine-joost]

After Midnight 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x AFAB Reader

'Cause everything good happens after midnight.

WARNINGS: THIS IS RPF! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, MOVE ON! drinking, smoking, piv sex, umm yeah

You didn’t go clubbing very often. It just wasn’t really your scene, only when you were begged to tag along by friends on special occasions would you make the effort to get all dolled up and wear one of the three dresses you owned that could pass at club appropriate.

And all of these nights would start out the same, a nightmare. With music too loud, people surrounding you that were too sweaty and apparently had no regard for personal space. But you always obliged in your own personal hell for your friends. 

You laughed while you watched your group drunkenly scream the lyrics to The Spice Girls’ Wannabe from your spot against the wall near the dancefloor. They were coaxing you to join them, but you were overly aware of your presence in the club, and you worried about the stares you would get. You knew it was silly, and arguably conceited, to think you would be watched, but you were right.

~

Joost watched you as you walked in, and when you ordered your first drink–a gin and soda with a splash of lemonade–and then your second. He stood not far from you, waiting for you to finish that glass so he could offer to buy you a third, before anyone else could get the chance. It was like everything stopped when he first saw you, the universe slowed as his eyes scanned your face, your body, and your hands which were shaking with anxiety. He was sure you hadn’t even looked at him yet, if you did he somehow missed it. Maybe this was just one of those moments when the universe dangles an opportunity in your face, only to take it away so it would only exist in some alternate timeline. Like that movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, only hopefully much happier.

~

You were beginning to feel a buzz that upped your confidence at around halfway through your second drink. When the DJ played Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA you couldn’t help but take the hand of one of your friends as you were dragged into the circle they had all formed in your corner of the floor. Your feet and shins ached as the song finished, and your face was flushed from all the excited jumping you did–which was pretty much the only dance move you could do in the crowded club. With adrenaline, you burst into a fit of laughter while trying to catch your breath and downed the last few fingers of your drink. The lights in the building were beginning to blur, you leant into the comfort of it, and the warmth in your chest from the gin.

~

Joost was sure this was just about as close as he could get to love without coming across as a total creep. Your smile was so infectious, he couldn’t hear your laugh over the loud music but he was sure it was just as beautiful as the rest of you. His heart felt like it was going into palpitations, he needed a cigarette to calm down.

~

Your energy was slowly depleting after your brief exertion. You needed a moment to yourself, you told your friends you were going for a smoke–not a regular vice for you but when you drank, the two went one after the other for you. You really didn’t want to have to go and buy a packet of cigs, you never liked to commit to infirmities. You were praying you’d find someone kind enough to lend you a smoke just this once. 

The air was cold in the small courtyard, you were surprised you couldn’t see your breath when you let out a long sigh at the heat immediately escaping your body. There were only a few other people outside; a couple in the midst of an argument (from what you could gather she apparently looked at another guy the wrong way and her boyfriend was not happy about it) and a guy, about your age, scrolling on his phone while he smoked. You saw under his heavy jacket he was wearing a white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ ABBA’. It made you chuckle just a bit to yourself, you wondered if he went as wild as you did not ten minutes beforehand. The angry couple’s screams were getting louder and louder, so you figured he was your best bet.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you…” He looked up from his phone when you spoke, there was a look you could almost read as surprise in his eyes. Some of the bluest eyes you think you’d ever seen, but maybe it was just the lighting out there. “Could I bum a smoke from you?”

You gave your best kicked puppy smile, well the best you could with the buzz that was now sitting in the base of your neck.

He nodded ardently, and opened the pack in his hand and held it out to you. You took one and placed it between your lips, he was quick to leap off the brick retaining wall he was leaning on to light the cigarette.

Nothing beat that first drag on a night out. You closed your eyes as you felt your bones get lighter. Exhaling, you muttered a ‘thanks’ to the blond stranger.

“No problem,” he smiled. 

You stayed standing near him, trying to ignore the argument which was now unravelling into an incident that happened last New Years. You saw the kind stranger’s eyes dart from his phone to you every so often, and back to his phone when he realised you’d caught him. You were sure it was the alcohol that was giving you the confidence. 

Eventually the lovebirds took their quarrel back inside, leaving you and the stranger in its wake. You both let out a laugh once you were alone, something about that awkwardness had bonded the two of you. Like the groups of strangers who get stuck in elevators, you imagine.

Through the giggles, you didn’t notice yourself moving closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. You weren’t sure if he noticed either, at least until you both calmed down enough to breathe again.

You quickly pondered the options, and that newfound confidence decided to pitch in again. You kept your hand on his arm, leaning against the wall next to him.

“I-I’m Joost,” he stuttered out after a moment.

When you introduced yourself, he repeated your name. Though not to you, more like he was trying out how it sounded in his mouth. It must’ve been good, he hung his arm over your shoulders and brought you closer. 

A few people emerged from the dark room for a smoke, and you utilised your new closeness, now more so whispering (well, a loud whisper) in each other's ears while you finished your cigarette.

You asked him about his shirt, he laughed and told you he had no shame in loving Abba. And he asked if you were with friends, and when you said yes he told you he was as well.

Part of you didn’t want to leave his side, you felt so comfortable with him so quickly. But when you heard the start of Americano by Lady Gaga, a bolt of excitement ran through your bones. You frantically stubbed out the rest of your cigarette and grabbed Joost’s hand, pulling him with you to your group of friends who had gotten increasingly messier in the time it took you to smoke. Each of them eyed Joost as you pulled him against your body to dance.

~

He was nervous, at the very least. At the most, his heart was beating out of his chest and he could barely keep control of his limbs. He could smell your perfume as you moved around him, it was like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

He placed two soft hands on your hips, swaying with you as you both got lost in the music. That was the routine for the next few songs that played.

~

In lulls, he was introduced to each of your friends, with an explanation of how you had met. One of his hands stayed permanently on the small of your back as you went to the bar to order another drink–which he insisted on paying for. Joost’s friends approached you as you waited for the bartender to make your drink and he was more than happy to introduce you to them all. The feeling of him proudly introducing you, and telling them all about you made you giddy. They were all friendly, and happy to try to embarrass Joost as much as possible by telling you stories from when he was a dumb teenager.

A lively conversation eventually started in the group, and you were missing a lot of the context of the inside jokes being quipped. You could see your friends on the other side of the room, from the looks of it, none of them were far off being ready to leave. You decided to cut your losses and peel off of Joost’s hand and make your way back.

As soon as you took a step away from him, Joost immediately resigned from the conversation and looked at you, worried.

“Where are you going?” He whispered in your ear while you were still just in reach of him.

“I’m going back to my friends,” you answered. “Keep talking, though, have fun!”

He gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read. Maybe confusion? Hurt? Sadness, even? Without another thought he interrupted the story that his friend, Lyon, was telling.

“See you guys later, alright?” He grabbed your hand and said quick goodbyes to all his friends, each of them telling you it was great to meet you.

Only when he was walking you back to our group of friends did you manage to tell him, “you didn’t have to come with me, you could’ve kept talking.”

He hummed in response. “I talk to them all the time, I’d rather be with you.”

You couldn’t hide your smile, you hadn’t ever met someone so sweet. You eyed your friends beginning to all walk with limps, which was the universal symbol for ‘these shoes are making my feet hurt and I need to go home right now’.

 “I think we’ll be heading off soon if you want to come with us?” You asked, you knew it was forward but the third drink you’d just downed made it difficult to care.

“Like to your place?” He asked in a gentle voice you could barely hear over the music–if not for the fact that his face was buried deep in your shoulder as you both swayed to the music with his arm over your shoulder.

“Or yours. If you want.” You smiled at him. His eyes softened, and his smile got wider. You felt a burning in your body that could only be read as anticipation of what the rest of the night had in store. 

He nodded, nervously. “Yeah, I-I’d like that.”

You liked the idea that you made him nervous. It somehow made you more and more confident the more you saw his face blush when you caught him looking at you, and his indecisive hands placed on your back, your hips, and in yours. Something about him made you want to trust him. Like when he helped all your friends find their purses and phones and whatever else they didn’t want to leave in the club before you all departed, and helped each of you down the steps of the entrance of the old concrete building. He even gave you his jacket when he felt you shiver on the walk to the Avondwinkel down the street, you tried to protest but he was adamant. It smelt like cigarette smoke mixed with some kind of musky cologne, it was comforting. 

The inside of the small convenience store was just as packed as the club, full of people buying every snack and drink they could think of. The shop owner was being a good sport about it though, he had some techno pop song you were vaguely familiar with playing over the shop’s speakers and he was talking to every person who approached his counter, asking about their night and making sure they were all okay.

Throughout it all, Joost barely left your side; when you were paying for your packet of gummy worms and bottle of Pepsi, as your group sat on the curb outside for some fresh air, when you called the Uber to your apartment, and in the car on the way there.

In the backseat you tried to focus on anything other than his hand resting heavy on your thigh for fear that you would commit a felony in pouncing on him right there and begging him to have his way with you. It was quite busy on the roads, surprisingly, so it took much longer than expected to get to your little apartment building with its rickety lift that you didn’t dare use, always opting for the stairs. 

Your buzz had died down, mostly, now you were just feeling tired. You rested your head on Joost’s shoulder, feeling that flutter inside you that was becoming all too familiar when he laid his head on top of yours. You both were silent, letting the driver continue his phone conversation in a language you couldn’t understand and listening to the faint radio playing some late night discussion show. It all felt so comfortable, like you’d known each other forever and this was just another night. You wondered if it was a fluke or if this was something truly special.

Joost rested his hand on your thigh. It could’ve just been an innocent gesture, but you knew not when you turned your head to be able to look at his face. A grin, but with no eye contact. 

Two can play at this game, you thought. You placed your hand on top of his and slid it ever so slightly up the bare skin of your thigh. You heard him try to stifle a gasp, you were winning.

At the next set of lights, he lifted his head and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. You got a tingle through your skin, he was painstakingly close to your lips. His face didn’t move, just apart from yours. All you would need to do is–

Before you could finish your thought, he had leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second with the shock of processing what was happening, but quickly shuffled to a more comfortable position for your neck. 

The kiss quickly deepened, you opened your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. You shuffled as close as you could to each other, until there was absolutely no room in between you both and your seatbelts were threatening suffocation.

Joost made you feel lightheaded, you weren’t sure why–or how. It was a blur from the car to your apartment. 

Your skin was burning under his touch as he held onto you while you struggled with the sticky lock on your door. Like floodgates, your door opened and the two of you poured into your tiny home. 

He kissed you again once you closed the door. This one was…much more tender, like you both suddenly had the realisation that all this lead-up was heading somewhere and it wasn’t just something you could fantasise about later when you were alone and horny. His jacket–which you were still wearing–got pushed off your shoulders and abandoned on the floor while he left wet, hungry kisses across your neck, your shoulder, just at the hem of your low-cut shirt.

A haze came over you as you looked over his body, arms littered with tattoos and chest hair that was just a shade or so darker than the hair on his head. You had the most primal urge to just devour him.

It was a blur, you both hurried to your bedroom in a rush of clothes being torn off your burning, sweating bodies. Your hands began to explore every inch of each other as you made yourself comfortable on your double-sized bed, all that you could fit in the small room.

He hovered over you, holding himself up with one hand next to your head, kissing a gentle line from your lips to your cheek and to your ear.

“Please, Liefje…” He whispered, his warm breath made all the blood rush to your ear–you were sure it had reddened. “Please let me fuck you.”

You practically melted at that. He was still wearing his boxers, you were sure if they had come off in the flurry of clothes he wouldn’t have had to ask. Your hand inched its way closer to his waistband, gently running your fingers over his abdomen. You watched him with unwavering confidence as he shivered at your touch. It only spurred you on further.

Your fingers drifted below the waistband. You slowly, agonisingly ran your hand down the length of his cock. He was already half-hard, though you could barely talk–you’d been feeling that burning ache in your pussy since the car. You could feel his slick precum, making your torture even more excruciating for him.

You watched Joost’s face. His thick-framed glasses had been discarded on your nightstand so you could properly look into his eyes, see his furrowed brows. He let out a small, guttural moan as you ran your hand over his tip. You could feel him growing harder and harder in your hand.

You kissed him again, and whispered to him. “You ready now?”

He nodded urgently, so you released him from your grasp. Part of him felt the excitement of what was next, but he also painfully missed your touch.

“Do you have any rubbers?” He asked.

You shook your head. You didn’t do this sort of thing very often, you just didn’t have the need for them.

“I have one in my wallet.” He sprung up from his spot on your bed and stumbled out of the room to retrieve his pants that were left in the hallway. 

You didn’t have to wait long for him to return, metallic wrapper in hand.

“Wishful thinking or are you just very confident?” You asked, a smirk across your face.

He scoffed as he flopped back next to you. “Just well prepared, Liefje.”

Joost quickly discarded his boxers and rolled the condom on. Finally, as the tip of his cock rubbed against the slick of your core, you let out a rasping moan that only dragged on as he slowly slid into.

He was bigger than you were used to, but the pressure was sort of comforting, in a way. He waited a moment to let you adjust, your breathing deepened as he placed two soft kisses on your cheeks. You were burning for him. You gave him the green light to start moving.

He started slowly, easing you both into it. But when he heard the soft mewls coming from you with each thrust, he couldn’t help but thrust faster and faster.

Soon the room was a cacophony of both your moans and the sound of skin on skin. Joost’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, you felt every sticky breath he let out as a sheen of sweat collected on your bodies.

He could have been fucking you for hours, you wouldn’t know–each thrust, each slam into you felt like an eternity. You could feel your core begin to tighten, on instinct you reached to your clit, gently massaging it. 

You heard Joost tut at you when he saw what you were doing. He grabbed your wrist and halted your movement. “Let me, Baby.”

It felt like electricity coursing through your veins with Joost’s fingers rubbing your clit and his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper. You were so close to the edge.

“Mmmh… don’t… stop…” You managed to stutter out between moans.

You could tell Joost was close as well. You both carried on, closer and closer…

A rush of cold and warmth and everything in between ran over you as you came. You released an almost primal moan as your body froze in its tracks. 

Joost was still slowly thrusting, panting into your neck, his skin growing red from the exertion.

“Keep going,” you mumbled into his ear. “Come for me…please.”

It took only a few more small pumps for a low groan to erupt from his throat, emptying into the condom. You let him breathe for a moment, before placing a gentle hand on the back of his neck and directing him to face you. He had a couple droplets of now-cold sweat on the bridge of his nose, you wiped them off with your other hand, smiling when he let out a light giggle. You simply weren’t expecting a noise like that out of the man who was still inside you.

“You’re incredible, Liefje,” he sighed.You place a gentle kiss on his lips. “And you’re perfect.”

[01zfan]

rotten valentine | p. wb

wonbin x reader | 4.5k words

happy (late) valentines day!

contains: friends with benefits situation, red flag wonbin, he’s kinda toxic, this is like the evil version of necklace

the fourteenth day in the month of february came and went for you each year. it wasn’t always a normal day in your life—it used to be an event. writing every single one of your classmates names on a note with candy attached and receiving what seemed like thousands back. the excitement and magic of the day devolved from elementary school, turning into the occasional candy gram you would get from your friends in junior high. by the time you got to college, valentine’s day had just become another day. 

you were well into adult life now, and your life was drained of all romance. you forgot what it was like to kiss someone you were dating and your last serious relationship felt like a distant memory. it felt like romance was make believe, something manufactured in movie studios to make profit. you had suitors and you had the dating apps, but nothing sparked that same feeling you found yourself chasing late at night.

wonbin was someone you yearned for. he came into your life like a meteor, crashing on the surface of your mind and killing all potential thoughts you had of finding someone else. 

you saw him first at a party, the dimly lit room failed to hide the way he looked at you. his gaze pierced through the sea of people and you found yourself thinking about the scenes in the movies. this was the part where wonbin came up to you and cracked jokes with you all night, woo’ing you and calling you pretty. you rationalized that wonbin didn’t have his script when he unceremoniously came up to you, pulling your attention way from your friends. you followed him like a moth to a flame deeper to the dance floor, where the music was so loud you could barely hear him. he took a sip from his cup, letting it rest in his hand. you barely had wonbin’s attention as he leaned over to request a song to the dj.

after making the request wonbin leaned against the wall and continued to drink. the previously muted yellow light that made you feel like the party was shot on film turned to a deep red. it felt almost choreographed as as wonbin’s eyes raked down your body. in any other instance you would’ve been disgusted by a man looking at you with so much lust. but you felt proud that you had piqued his interest. you didn’t want to lose him. 

the music changed to the song wonbin requested and he smirked. you found that he donned that look anytime someone did what he wanted, so smug like he knew no one could deny him. it was the same smugness that made his eyes stay on your chest as he took another sip of his drink.

“did you come alone?” wonbin asked.

you looked behind to your friends that kept a careful eye on you. you’re shocked wonbin didn’t notice them. maybe he was too caught up in you to notice.

“i came with my friends.” you said.

the lights started flashing red, making the party around you feel like a nightclub. people started dancing to the song more frantically than before, moving from gentle sways to jumping on the makeshift dance floor. some people bumped into you, making the drink in your cup raise over the rim and splash on your hand. wonbin remained untouched on the wall a look of amusement on his face as he looked at the partygoers have fun because of his song suggestion. the dj gave him a nod of acknowledgement and you could see it go directly to his head. the confidence made you dizzy just like his perfume did when he beckoned you to come to his corner. you placed a hand on the wall to steady yourself and wonbin brought a hand to your hip. his hand was comforting just like the smell of aged spice that flooded your nose. wonbin looked at you for a moment before leaning to your ear.

“wanna ditch your friends?” he asked. 

his amusing smile didn’t waiver, his curled up lips so close to your face you felt it on the shell of your ear. you knew he knew your answer. you didn’t even have to nod as you turned around to get through the dancing crowd. your mind was buzzing with alcohol as the beautiful man followed behind you. your friends had joined the cluster of partygoers as you walked up the stairs. they couldn’t even see you through the haze of smoke clouds and flashing lights. if you were in your right mind you would’ve joined them, squeezing your sweaty body through everyone till you made it to your group. but nothing else mattered to you except for getting wonbin alone, and wonbin’s hand on your ass was guiding you there.

wonbin’s collision with you that night wiped away all common sense you had in regards to him. if you had half a mind you would’ve told him you don’t fuck strangers at parties or fuck on beds that aren’t your own. but any rational thought was out the window when it came to wonbin. anything to feel the euphoria of being pressed into the sheets and hearing him moan because of you. his sloppy passion from his tipsy state paired with his precise thrusts made your throat raw from your cries. you had never felt that way in your life. that’s why each time he hit you with his late night messages you responded. it always started with a text, so non assuming and casual it made your head hurt.

you up?

you hated that your life had come to this, chasing after someone so bad for you. it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t bring wonbin up anymore in your friend’s presence, visible aggravation showing on their faces. you vividly remember when your friend gave you a wake up call. you should’ve listened, she wasn’t wrong when she told you about wonbin. he was hot and cold, only reached out to you when he needed to feel something wrapped around him, and took advantage of your lonliness. you nodded your head and felt the sting of tears as she comforted you through acceptance. 

the intervention was no use; you went back to him that night. you held strong for an hour, until wonbin attached an i need u to the end of his initial text. you couldn’t resist going back to wonbin when he said he needed you. you had gotten so used to seeing people kiss in movies that you started thinking kisses tasted like stale popcorn and artificial sweetener. but wonbin’s kisses tasted like vanilla and his lips felt like clouds. how could you not go back to him?

it didn’t help that wonbin knew it was wrong to play with your emotions. he wasn’t a bad person by any means, just someone who needed constant temporary company. he did all he could for the girls he had sex with and communicated what he was looking for before the arrangements started. but you were different. you were innocent and naive, still believing that the romance in movies was something obtainable. wonbin liked that about you, he believed the fact that you were a hopeless romantic made you better in bed. it made you ride him even if your legs were burning and it made you relax your throat and let your tongue go limp so you could take all of him. it also made you come back to him over and over again. it was almost too easy getting you to make the late night drive to his apartment. 

wonbin tried to ween himself off of you for your own sake, but you didn’t let it last long. it was usually wonbin to text you first, and he thought that you would just move on with your life if he never reached out to you again. so when the time came around that wonbin would send the infamous text, he just masturbated to get sex off his mind and went to bed. but while he was sleeping soundly you were tossing and turning, checking your phone every ten minutes waiting for your bat signal. 

you hated to admit it felt like you were at your lowest those three days you had no contact with wonbin. holding out and not texting him was the last bit of power you had in your dynamic with him. your mind rationalized that as long as it was wonbin texting you, you had some semblance of control. but you willingly tipped the scale on day three, telling wonbin you wanted to see him. the way he read your message immediately made your heart swell, the three bubbles in the gray text made you regret everything. it was like you were taking the biggest risk of your life waiting for a response from him. 

you were lucky that your risk played out well for you that night. you relinquished the last authority you had to wonbin by telling you that you needed him, but he made it up to you when you showed up at his door. the way he moaned your name and marked your neck made you truly believe that you were his. wonbin fucking you into the mattress made you believe that romance movies and couples holding hands had nothing on this.

when you woke up next to wonbin the next morning, nothing had changed. he was still uninterested in getting involved romantically, only offering you a tired goodbye as you got up from his bed. 

after that, you knew you had nothing else to gain from your relationship with wonbin. it never stopped you from putting on your coat and driving over to him, or knocking on his door. but that didn’t stop you from opening your phone when he sent you his text.

sorry for going ghost

busy week at work.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes like you didn’t miss him. atleast he had the decency to try and explain the situation. you knew that it was the truth—wonbin didn’t care enough to lie to you.

couldn’t stop thinking about my favorite girl though

you just wish wonbin wasn’t so fucking awful. you wish he didn’t know it either. he knew how awful he was for calling you his favorite girl even though you were on his backburner all the time. he knew how awful he was for hitting all your spots just right, for knowing your body so well within a few minutes. and he was so fucking rotten for knowing how to get you to show up at his door late at night.

you walked up the stairs to his apartment after he buzzed you in. you wish you could say you weren’t tingling with excitement going up the stairs. knowing that wonbin wanted to spend time with you regardless of the circumstance made you happy. it was hard to not believe you weren’t the most important person in wonbin’s life when he looked at you that way when he answered the door.

the view before you was shocking—wonbin stopped trying to be sweet about your hookups a long time ago. he had ditched the casual clothes and started answering in just his boxers and a white tee to let you know what his intentions were. he stopped leading you to the couch to uselessly chat you up and ask questions he didn’t care to hear the answers to. now all wonbin did was answer the door and immediately lead you to the bedroom, expecting you to ditch your clothes on the way. but this wonbin answered with a gummy smile and kissed you passionately in the hallway of closed apartment doors.

”i missed you.” wonbin said sweetly when he pulled away.

you were too busy staring at him with wide eyes to answer. he pulled you into his small apartment, closing the door and locking it. wonbin took in. your shocked expression and laughed—he was so fucking awful.

you hated that wonbin’s apartment was tidy. you believed that if you could find just one disgusting thing about him you would be able to take off the rose tinted glasses, but his apartment was even cleaner than yours. it was always dimly lit but you could make out the decorations and see the color palette he was trying to achieve. you could tell a musician lived here, from the edited sheet music that laid on the coffee table and his guitar resting on the couch. you had dreams of him leading you to the living room and playing you a song that made him think of you. but you had to settle for wonbin leading you to his bedroom.

wonbin walked to the edge of his bed while you took off your shoes and jacket. usually guests take them off at the front door, but you weren’t given the privilege to put your things on the coat rack or your shoes by the front door. you had to settle for throwing your jacket on the back of his chair and your shoes by the door. you don’t know wonbin was like that, but you’re sure finding out would’ve only made you feel awful.

after taking off your coat and shoes, you walked around wonbin’s bed to him. his head followed you all the way from his door, watching you with careful eyes.

you stood in front of him, playing with the ends of his hair. wonbin wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach. it was hard to not feel somber in these moments, with him being so touchy. you had seen wonbin in the mornings when you’d sneak away, hair splayed out on the pillow as the sun caught on his eyelashes. he looked so pure in those moments, nothing like the man that put you through emotional hell. his lips were soft even in the morning. even though wonbin was the devil in some aspects you couldn’t deny he wasn’t an angel, especially in the morning when his face was the first thing you woke up to. he was rotten but also so sweet, awful but so good. he was an enigma in your life, and it was a shame he didn’t want to be yours. but maybe if you sucked his dick good enough you’d change his mind.

wonbin continued to look at you as you got on your knees before him, slotting yourself between his legs. wonbin lifted his hips off the bed to take off his boxers, letting them pool at his ankles. his dick was hard and heavy in your hand. you rested your head on his thigh, bringing his tip to touch your tongue. wonbin propped himself up on his arms after taking a look at you, he knew you knew what to do. he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh when you took in as much as you could, using your hand to occupy the space you couldn’t reach.

you head still rests on his thigh when he brings himself upright again to look at you. you want to make sure he’s watching when you relax your throat and touch your nose to his stomach. wonbin grunts now, bucking his hips up in the slightest way to make you gag.

you take wonbin from your mouth to try and regain your composure. the hold he has on your hair tilts your head up. wonbin looks at your teary eyes and swollen lips. his dick pulses in your hand as he looks at how ruined you are. inside and out, all because of him.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” wonbin says.

you whimper at his compliment and take him back into your mouth after licking a long strip down the shaft that makes wonbin hiss. he’s cruel and enjoyes withholding the sounds he truly wants to make. he believes it makes you work harder. when he hits the back of your throat he lets you hear a whimper and when your throat vibrates as you gag on him he moans. 

“so good,” wonbin whispers. “almost there.”

and you are so good. wonbin has hands in your hair is just for show. he doesn’t have to push your head or buck into your mouth to get what he needs to cum down your throat. you just do it because you like him more than you should. the premise of being close also gives you the vigor to continue, ignoring the pain in your knees from kneeling on the ground and the soreness of your jaw. it makes you flick your tongue over wonbin’s tip, and when his hand suddenly tightens in your hair he cums without warning. wonbin’s legs stiffen under your palms, and he lifts his hips up slightly to meet your lips.

the only time your defiant is when it comes to swallowing wonbin’s cum. you never turn down eating it but each time your eyes switch from lust to disgust. you take it all because wonbin wants you to, but each time you stick out your tongue and make a bleugh sound.

“you need to drink some fucking water,” you grimace. “your cum tastes like toxic waste.”

that’s the only peak of your strong personality that wonbin gets to see. any other time you are so docile and pliant, saying your yes’s and please’s and thank you’s. you are more mysterious than him sometimes, the way you successfully hide so much of your personality from wonbin. maybe he just doesn’t care enough to pick more at your surface to find out. but maybe if you knew how to use the mysteriousness to your advantage wonbin would be more intrigued by you. regardless, you always go back to the same docile fuck buddy when wonbin lifts your chin up to look at him.

“you like eating it though, don’t you?” wonbin says simply.

you mindlessly nod you head and your eyes are filled with the same look of adoration before he came in your mouth. it makes wonbin equal parts turned on and smug, his limp dick already working back up to a semi.

wonbin moves back on the bed and you get up from the floor to follow him. you stumble onto the sheets, doing everything in your power to not show how stiff your knees are. you crawl towards wonbin sitting against the headboard with that stupid smirk on his face. he looks down at your chest. the way your breasts hang freely makes him want to put them in his mouth, or hold them tightly until you squirm.

when you’re leaning against the headboard wonbin hands you a water bottle resting on his bedside table. the bottle has collapsed in on itself slightly and had condensation inside. you thank him anyway for the room temperature water—it’s just what you need because wonbin is the one who gave it to you. you finish the bottle, but the taste of him still remains on your tongue.

“thank you.” you say

wonbin still looks at you as you place the water on the other bedside table. he smiles at how shy you suddenly are, waiting for him to initiate the next part of the night. something about you makes his libido increase tenfold. his dick is already hard and straining against his lower stomach.

“how do you want it? want me to be romantic?” wonbin said sarcastically.

you looked at him in confusion, not sure where the second comment came from. did you let something slip again in the heat of the moment? did he pay attention to your instagram story that was indirecting him?

whatever wonbin meant, it was long forgotten when he leaned into you to kiss you again. it was sick how good he was at kissing, even more sick that passionate kisses meant nothing to him. someone should only kiss their lovers the way wonbin was kissing you. he was so gentle pressing his open mouth against yours, pressing his tongue against yours so gently. you have never been kissed this way you’re entire life, it was twisted that wonbin expected you to not catch feelings by the way he carefully touched your face and didn’t pull away from you until you lost your breath.

he was rotten for treating you like glass. when you had sex with other men, they would tear off your clothes impatiently to fuck you as soon as possible, but wonbin always took his time. he would pull down the waistband of your sweatpants while still kissing you, all you had to do was lift your hips. he never took off your panties with your pants either, always giving your under garments extra care. he knew how to take off your bra with one hand and shimmy you out of your panties with the other, pulling away from your lips to sigh contently when you were completely naked for him.

“so gorgeous.” wonbin said, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

wonbin guided your body to straddle his hips, letting your pussy rest on his hard dick. he enjoyed this part the most, being able to feel how wet you were without being inside. he liked how shy you got sitting on top of him, swiveling your hips to spread your slick on his shaft. wonbin liked that you were just as dirty as he was and that you were able to adapt to what he wanted so quickly. he looked down to where you two were almost connected then looked up to you. wonbin liked the glint you had in your eyes, like you were waiting for him to say something.

“wanna ride me?” wonbin asked.

you nodded and lifted your hips up. wonbin maintained eye contact as he grabbed his tip and used the knuckle of his finger to rub down your folds, until he found your entrance. he let go of his dick and his hands found your hips. wonbin looked to you, waiting for you to give him permission to slowly pull you down to him. but you took matters into your own hands, sliding your body down his shaft slowly.

wonbin couldn’t stop his moan from coming out, and you could only look down at his face for a moment before feeling heat creep on your face. you let out a tiny moan and collapsed your body down to tuck your face into wonbin’s neck. you also gave up trying to ride him, making him thurst up into you.

“so cute.” wonbin said breathlessly.

he pressed your lips to his absentmindedly while he continued to fuck up into you. you don’t know why wonbin kept craning his neck awkwardly to see your face that rested on his shoulder. you don’t know why he was making himself uncomfortable just to see your face contort in pleasure. you had spent so many other times having sex with wonbin while your face stayed buried in his neck. this was to personal, especially when he used his hand that was holding your ass down to tilt your head up. it felt like wonbin’s blown out eyes were looking straight into your soul, watching you be consumed by him completely.

seeing wonbin so enthralled by you was what brought you to your peak. your moans pierced through your throat, and wonbin finally let you go to your safe place in his neck. while your body went stiff from pleasure, his slow speed increased significantly. the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and your hands on his shoulder dug into his skin for stability. he was awful for letting the pain from your nails only spur him on. he didn’t stop while you clenched around him uncontrollably, or when your moans turned into babbles and cries. wonbin wrapped an arm around you and held you close, still thrusting up into you.

“take it baby—fuckkkkk.” wonbin groaned.

you could feel the sudden heat inside of you and wonbin pulling you even closer. his hips stilled and you milked him, both of you basking in the heat and electricity of the moment. it was you pulling away from wonbin now, looking into his face that he pressed against the pillows. you raised your hips up before gliding back down, feeling white molten lava seeping out of you. wonbin got whiny almost immediately, wincing from the overstimulation and the feeling of you still seizing around him. you loved this part the most, seeing him completely at your mercy. you basked in the thought of his other girls walking in and seeing you two like this. like you were the dominant one, the one cooing at him that it’s okay. but you were reminded who called the shots when wonbin used his strength to still your hips and pull himself of of you. 

you rolled off of him and caught your breath, wonbin did the same but took significantly longer than usual. the next time you inevitably end up on top of him you’ll have to do the same thing again.

while wonbin composed himself you walked to the bathroom and peed, cleaning up the wet patch on your thighs when wonbin pulled out. the worst part was after everything when you were in the bathroom alone, contemplating if your relationship with wonbin had changed. fuck buddies didn’t fuck like that you would always think to yourself. but then wonbin would come in and have that same smug look from the party. you were reminded who you were and who wonbin was and what your relationship was. it was painful, but it was necessary. you got up from the toilet wordlessly and flushed so wonbin could do the same.

you go back to his room to put your clothes on and head for the door. you’re sure wonbin would come out of the bathroom and not spare a second thought about the empty space on his bed. it was for the better. you decided in that moment you would leave his apartment and never come back—this time you were serious. maybe you would make something of your day tomorrow to celebrate your freedom. you thought that rotting in your bed and regretting your decision about wonbin seemed way more appealing than going on a walk or watching a movie. when you turned the doorknob to get out you heard wonbin’s sink turn off and the sound of him speed walking through his apartment.

you looked at the wonbin, eyes flitting to his marked neck and bed head. he still had sleep in his eyes when he took your head in his hands. you gave into him completely as he bent your head down. he pressed his warm lips to your forehead. it caught you by surprise the sudden affection. it kept you frozen in place as he pinched your cheeks, smiling as he opened the door.

“happy valentines day.” wonbin said while opening the door fully.

you are frozen at his door as he kisses your knuckles. you had forgotten what day it was and that the fourteenth of february was supposed to mean something. you wordlessly walk out his door and wonbin closes it behind you, walking back to his bedroom to go back to sleep.

[tender-rosiey]

loud and clear — gojo satoru x gn!reader

a/n: @xhamper I hope this is up to your liking! I couldn’t find the request in the inbox 🥲

as a high school student in jujutsu tech, you have learned to take any chance to sleep.

however, said sleep of tonight is, unfortunately, disturbed by something.

trying to ignore the noise, you turn groggily in your sleep. the ruckus doesn’t pipe down; you toss and turn. finally, done with everything, you slowly open your eyes, “what the…”

you concentrate and you hear a song playing. albeit a bit muffled, it’s still pretty loud.

perhaps your neighbors are having a party again? but they just had one yesterday; in addition, the sound is pretty close to you unlike before.

when you finally get up, you head towards the window and you’re met with something you would’ve never expected.

you see nanami, geto and haibara dancing: nanami is frowning and his dancing is as stiff as the tree beside him, geto is smiling but he also just looks defeated and helpless, and haibara is having fun and making the most out of it.

it’s a sight to behold and you want to scurry and get a camera, but the rest of the scene catches your attention.

you also see dj shoko, who looks like she is about to commit a murder, frowning and holding the speakers behind the boys as they do their ‘part’.

lastly, there is gojo, your crush, holding a mic and obnoxiously singing golden hour, “it’s yoUR GOLDEN HOOOOOOUR!”

he is really into it, knees on the ground, clutching his chest, and everything, “YOU SLOW DOWN TIMEEEEEEEEEE—!”

so it’s no surprise when your very kind neighbor throws a bag of cashews at him.

“GET YOUR TEENAGE ROMANCE OUT OF HERE! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!”

and it is also no surprise when he yells back, but you don’t expect his response, “WHAT’S WRONG WITH CONFESSING MY LOVE, YOU CRANKY OLD LADY?!”

geto tries to hold him back, “satoru, let’s not create a bigger scene than this, yaga will have our heads—“

satoru shakes him off and looks at you, determined and with a very annoying smirk on his face. he walks to his bag and gets out a megaphone.

he holds it up and once again surprises you, “I!LOVE!YOU!Y/N!”

“I LOVE HOW MESSY YOUR HAIR CAN BE IN THE MORNING!

I LOVE HOW CRANKY YOU GET WHEN YOU DON’T GET YOUR SNACKS!

I LOVE THE WAY YOU SMILE AND ROLL YOUR EYES AT MY JOKES!

I LOVE WATCHING YOU FIGHT CAUSE YOU LOOK SO SEXY!

AND YOU LOOK SO HOT WHEN YOU’RE ANGRY!

DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, SWEETS?!”

he is panting, by the time he finishes his rant. you know he is waiting for a response, but in your shocked state you cant get anything out except, “what?”

shoko snaps, “OH HELL NO! WE’RE NOT REPEATING THIS AGAIN! Y/N GET YOUR ASS DOWN!”

you nod hurriedly and run down the stairs. the moment you open the door, shoko pulls your arm and pushes you on satoru, who holds you up easily and whispers a small ‘hey’ with a smile.

geto pats shoko’s back and takes over, “so y/n, satoru likes you as you may have guessed by now.”

satoru, glaring at him, corrects him, “love! not like, thank you very much!”

you intertwine your fingers and it flusters him, but you don’t notice—geto does, however, and satoru is one second away from mixing colors.

nanami walks up to you guys, “and y/n obviously likes you back.”

finally haibara runs, smiling and excited, “now kiss!”

you laugh, “as if we would do that in front of you guys—“

the words die in your throat as satoru connects your lips gently. his hand is settled on your cheek and his other is pulling you closer by the waist.

shoko’s gagging, nanami’s groaning, haibrara’s clapping, and geto’s nodding proudly.

with all of that, you can only focus on the guy in front of you who pulls away with a cheeky smile, “that was nice, no?”

you mutter weakly, “s-shut up.”

he laughs and leans into your ear, “do you want to dance to the song?”

another bag of cashews is thrown on your—now—boyfriend’s head, “ YOU CAN DANCE TO THE SONG IN YOUR MOM’S—“

a kind neighbor indeed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will send the kind neighbor after yo ass

[brights-place]

Trollex dating an Deaf S/O

- He noticed you cause you where so close to the speakers in one o the raves and touching it - he just stared at you while hyping up everybody and noticed how you would look up at all the other Techno trolls in awe while you hopped abit and moved side to side with the beat you get from the vibrations - Loved your face when he made the beat drop louder cause it made you more hyped and grinned - You are able to lip read fluently so it's easy to understand what people are asking you sometimes yet it's also sometimes difficult - Though not MOST deaf people can lip read just an little fun fact from your author who's uncle is deaf - you two had your first ever chat after the 3rd rave - Well he talked to you and you just nodded shook your head or just did sign language which he connected the dots quickly - would rush over to you whenever he can somehow, he could read your thoughts and what you want to say but can't at all but try to explain in sign language. - He didn't understand sign language so he just focused on when you're looking at something or someone in a certain way, how your eyebrows furrow. how you squint your eyes, the way your lips curve up or downwards with something he likes and dislikes. - he will sulk at the person and then explain it to them, turning his head at you to know if he was right. - Which he was sometimes it was an 50/50 really depending if he got it right or wrong then remembers your deaf... So he mentally smacked himself in the face - THEN AND THERE! When he wanted to speak to you he wanted to know sign language so you could understand - You fell for him when one of your friends signed to you about how he stood up for you - Found out about his feelings when he saw you vibing to HIS Techno Remix - You fell first HE FELL HARDER - King Trollex WILL beat the shit out of anyone who he sees being ableist towards you like deadass would throw hands and be pissed - Asked some of more high tech trolls (The Funk trolls CAUSE SPACE SHIP!) to make you hearing aids whenever you wanted to wear them - King Quincy and Queen essence cooed at the scene when Trollex gave it for you on your birthday - Trollex cares for you extremely deeply. He tries his best to understand how it feels to be deaf - He makes sure your next to him in the DJ booth so he knows your beside him safe and also so you can be near the speakers to touch the vibrations and feel the beat - Secretly learned sign language from other deaf trolls for you and planned to show you on your anniversary - You caught him doing sign language in secret a couple days before your anniversary and kept it an secret - You tried so hard not to kiss him hard then and there and when it was finally your anniversary you where shaking on your spot excitedly - YOU SWAM SO FAST TOWARDS HIS ASS - Tackled him into an hug grinning and laughing peppering his face with kisses - he's kiss drunk on the spot holding you close and giggling like an idiot - he wanted his knights to learn sign language and gave them the task of following you around - The knights most of the time are translating for those who can't understand you when you use sign language when Trollex can't when he's on his duties - Other then that he would be by your side making sure your safe and are alright

- Blushes and has to explains why he does it

- other trolls cry and tear up at how sweet it was

- You being deaf is not really a problem for him he doesn't mind at all

- he doesn't mind at all explain directly to you what others are saying or explaining it to you the situation

- he always take a moment to explain what happen if you need it

- The first time he did ask you directly if you need him to explain...

- Bliss face palmed in sync with Laguna while Synth gave an thumbs up as they stared at their king who froze realizing what he just did

- You stared at him with absolute confusion. After you've been together for a while he learnt how to identify whenever you need help so he just turn to look at you to know

- You two have an loving relationship and it's so cute that people in techno reef laugh at how cute you two were

- King Trollex WILL beat the shit out of anyone who he sees being ableist towards you like deadass would throw hands and be pissed

- Asked some of more of the high tech trolls (The Funk trolls CAUSE SPACE SHIP!) to make you hearing aids whenever you wanted to wear them

- King Quincy and Queen essence cooed at the scene when Trollex gave it for you on your birthday

- Trollex cares for you extremely deeply. He tries his best to understand how it feels to be deaf

- He makes sure your next to him in the DJ booth so he knows your beside him safe and also so you can be near the speakers to touch the vibrations and feel the beat

- Secretly learned sign language from other deaf trolls for you and planned to show you on your anniversary

- You caught him doing sign language in secret a couple days before your anniversary and kept it an secret

- You tried so hard not to kiss him hard then and there and when it was finally your anniversary you where shaking on your spot excitedly

- YOU SWAM SO FAST TOWARDS HIS ASS

- Tackled him into an hug grinning and laughing peppering his face with kisses

- he's kiss drunk on the spot holding you close and giggling like an idiot

- he wanted his knights to learn sign language and gave them the task of following you around

- The knights most of the time are translating for those who can't understand you when you use sign language when Trollex can't when he's on his duties

- Other then that he would be by your side making sure your safe and are alright

- When he speaks he forgets that he's doing sign language while speaking whenever your near and people point it out

- Blushes and has to explains why he does it

- other trolls cry and tear up at how sweet it was

- You being deaf is not really a problem for him he doesn't mind at all

- he doesn't mind at all explain directly to you what others are saying or explaining it to you the situation

- he always take a moment to explain what happen if you need it

- The first time he did ask you directly if you need him to explain...

- Bliss face palmed in sync with Laguna while Synth gave an thumbs up as they stared at their king who froze realizing what he just did

- You stared at him with absolute confusion. After you've been together for a while he learnt how to identify whenever you need help so he just turn to look at you to know

- You two have an loving relationship and it's so cute that people in techno reef laugh at how cute you two were