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highvern · 3 months ago

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endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

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

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

Length: ~19.5k

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

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

collab m.list || m.list

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

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

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

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

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

“Me first,” you whisper back.

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

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

[09:48] You: be nice

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

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

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

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

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

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

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

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

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

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

[09:50] You: oh?

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

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

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

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

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

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

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

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

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

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

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

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

It’d been…not good.

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

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

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

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

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

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May he rest in peace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

True.

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

Even truer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“F-fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bitch.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now that’s over.

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

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

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

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

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

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

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

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

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

“No,” you spit like a curse.

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

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

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?”

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

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

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

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

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

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

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

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

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

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

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

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

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

“You’re being ridiculous.”

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

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

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

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him.

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

You do it again.

“Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

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

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

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

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

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

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

“We can’t sleep like this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning.

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

“Morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you can’t.

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

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

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

“We can’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you call.

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

“You did.”

“But—”

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

And then you're alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

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

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

“Dangerous words.”

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

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

He still hasn’t kissed you.

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

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

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

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

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

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

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is your boyfriend moping?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Turn around.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

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

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When you almost got us killed?”

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

“Do it again.”

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“Because—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

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

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

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

“We can’t sleep here.”

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

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“Why would you do that?”

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

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

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize.

“You’re a bad liar.”

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

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

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

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

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

“Is this penance?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“After?”

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

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

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You made that pretty clear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Wonwoo.”

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

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

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

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

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

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

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

“‘Huh’ what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you guys are always together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want to drown in it.

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

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

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

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw.

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either.

“You think I’d hate you?”

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.”

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.”

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment.

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete.

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored.

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow.

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist.

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap.

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry?

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?”

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.”

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt.

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too.

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit. You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?”

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.”

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more.

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?”

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly.

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss.

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical.

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts.

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it. “That sucks.”

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad��s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

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eupheme · 1 month ago

Text

k07. group sex | don’t make me choose

logan howlett x reader x wade wilson x vanessa carlysle

rated e - 3k

tags: fem!reader, pure pwp, vignettes, poly relationship, mutual crushes, drinking games, foursome, oral sex, face sitting, fingering, hair tugging (reader), PiV, shared blowjob, creampie, come eating, 69 (while getting fucked), light ass play, spitting, marathon piv session

a/n: @sir-thisisadndserver sent me a lovely request about writing a logan x reader x wade x vanessa fic, which I thought would be perfect to share for kinktober! 💕 thank you so much emma & I really hope you like it!

“Gun to your head,” Wade’s hand raises - two fingers making a barrel, his curled thumb the hammer, “If your life hung in the balance of an orgasm, which one of us would you pick to help you out?”

(or - when a midnight game takes a turn, Vanessa, Wade, and Logan all work together to help you decide.)

There has to be something about the way they always convince you to stay later.

Offering another drink. A hand on your arm, a sweet smile. A “don’t worry, Logan will walk you home” - and he always does, hands jammed in the pockets of his leather as he lingers just a moment more, as your heart flutters behind your ribs. Making sure you get inside, safe and sound.

Lately, it’s become a “it’s getting pretty late, why don’t you just sleep over?”

The apartment is already small, crammed to the brim as is. It would be easier to book a ride home.

But for the second time in two weeks, your legs tuck beneath you. Wade’s friends - yours too, really, you’ve been hanging around enough that you think you could call them that - heading out an hour ago.

Your nice clothes for the get-together exchanged for an oversized shirt of Logan’s. Someone’s boxers slipped on as shorts - Wade’s, you think, from the bright pattern of red hearts across the pink fabric.

Hushed conversations in the living room, reminiscent of sleepovers in your youth, except for how filthy the conversations are.

And just like then, you can never bear leaving early.

Clinging on to each word, each accidental touch as a bowl of popcorn is passed over. The lean of Vanessa’s back against your legs when another movie starts.

Your shoulder and hip mapped with Logan’s, when you all try to fit on the couch.

Don’t even mind the way you always ache the next day. Far too fucking old to sleep on the makeshift bed Wade throws together - cushions dragged down from the couch, an excess of his decorative throw pillows littered across the floor.

Bargaining for Althea’s quilt collection in exchange for her sole use of the narrow twin bed that night.

It’s worth it, those few stolen minutes when you wake up before them. Shuffled together in some combination that changes each time.

A mess of limbs, and each time it sends your heart jolting. Something impossible that you can’t help but wish for planted in your chest when an arm manages to sling across your waist.

Trying to ignore how natural it feels, because clearly it must just be you. Reading into things, as always.

The game you’re playing - something Wade whipped up called Risky Quizness - breaks you out of your reverie, as he hurls another question at Logan.

“If you had to choose between having the Hulk’s dick but a normal-sized body, or the Hulk’s body and a regular-old johnson, which would you choose?”

Your snort of bemusement matches Logan’s, his brow furrowing with a scowl, “Can’t you ever ask a normal fucking question?”

“It is a normal fucking question,” Wade smirks, “You’re already working with one of those combos, minus the green, and I just wanna hear you admit it.”

The implication has your cheeks heating. Wondering how Wade would know. Knowing he must, by the way Logan’s ears pinken and eyes pull away.

“Pass.” It’s growled out, as Logan takes another swig of the beer he’d been nursing.

Wade pivots on the spot, set between the three of you. Facing you now, and your breath hitches in anticipation.

You’ve already spilled your most embarrassing moments. Your childhood crushes. A disaster of a first kiss. The true depths and deep cuts of your “hear me out” list. Even your first time - all stories spread out over the nights together.

And yet somehow, you’re still nervous he’ll nudge at your deepest secret of all.

His eyes narrow as he thinks.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Wade.” Vanessa hisses, shooting him a look.

“Her future is at stake, Ness,” Wade counters, severely, “Besides, I’m trying to help my boy out-”

But it’s Logan that addresses you first, his gaze heavy as his head cocks.

“Awfully quiet over there, sweetheart.”

A slight buzz still lingers - your mind and swirl, and the solid wall of your filter poked through with holes.

“I, uhm,” You start, as three sets of eyes fix on you.

Going silent, with the sudden attention.

“Huh. Thought I had you pegged,” Wade hums, eyes narrowing, “Can’t pretend I’m not offended for him that you’d rather take the L than fuck Wolvie here-”

You head shakes - not wanting them to think that, “It’s not-”

“What is it, then?” His grin widens, “Don’t have to be shy, babe. We all like pussy here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Another reproachful look, though Vanessa’s eyes don’t stray long from yours.

“No, it’s really-” You sigh, feeling helpless. Knowing he’ll keep nudging until you give him what he wants, “I, uh, I just… can’t pick.”

Silence lingers, and the heat in your chest creeps up to your ears.

“Can’t choose.” You laugh, self-conscious, “Doesn’t seem fair to, with, you know-”

“With?” Logan prompts - his voice low. That rough edge, as your eyes flick towards him.

“With how I feel.” You finish, lamely.

You’d thought your attraction to Logan as you’ve gotten to know him would advert the crush you’d been harboring on Wade and Vanessa.

But… it hasn’t. If anything, the shared time as your friendship grew only added to those feelings, leaving you hopelessly pining for all of them.

Forced to finally admit it.

“Greedy girl.” Wade coos - delighted - the puzzle pieces slipping into place.

Vanessa is the one that moves first.

Her weight shifting, as you inhale a breath. Moving from against the couch to kneel in front of you, movements slow as her hands plant on either side of your thighs.

“Maybe we can help you choose?” She smiles, eyes dropping to your lips. A quick glance towards Wade, as she adds, “Ladies first.”

And as her mouth presses sweetly to yours - think you may have just died and gone to heaven.

Scratch that. This is heaven.

Her thighs inch wider, calves already pressing into your bare shoulders. Your borrowed shirt lost somewhere, between the tug of her fingers and the twine of tongues.

The layers she wore soon following, your begged request murmured against her lips as you settled back against the floor, urging her on top. A shrill whistle that cut short with a grunt, when Logan’s elbow sinks into Wade’s gut.

Dark eyes peer down, but you miss them - too busy mapping over each and every inch of Vanessa, as she hovers above your mouth.

“You sure?”

Wade chuckles, answering for you, “Believe us, babe. When we say ‘sit’, we mean sit-”

Her teeth sink into her lip, “She’s not strong like you are, honey-”

Strong enough. It flickers through your mind, as your hands curve against her hips and tug. Lips parted, mouth ready to meet her.

You moan, as she pitches forward - hands splaying on either side of your head. As your tongue presses against her pussy, soft and wet and the low gasp she makes has you clenching.

“Supposed to be making you come,” Vanessa breathes, as she rocks into your mouth. As you taste her, tangy-sweet.

You suppose she’s right, but you’ve been dreaming about this for months. Hands flatten against her thighs, a silent plea for her to stay. Still marveling over the fact that the making out with you made her like this.

Leaking agains your tongue. The short panting breath, hands that cup at her breasts. The soft moan as her head dips to kiss Wade, as he fists his pulled-free cock.

“Come on, baby girl.” He grins, “Get over here. Can’t Choose means you, too.”

There’s a huff, near your ankles. Something growled out you miss, with the way her thighs press against your ears.

“Can Logan touch you, honey?” Vanessa decides for him - her fingers brushing your cheek, “He’s going to go wild if he can’t get his hands on you.”

You hum in assent, a distracted nod of your head. Too focused on her, listening to what makes her squeal. Wishing you could use your fingers, though there’s nothing that would make you want to move now.

Hands palm at your legs. Muffled words melding, as the pink boxers are tugged from you. Thighs pushed wide, as a warm weight settle between them.

The wet drag of a tongue had your hips jerking into his mouth. A little laugh from Vanessa, as she shifts - grinding against your tongue.

“Feels good, doesn’t he?” She coos, “Almost as good as you.”

Logan grunts. Hungry - fingers nudging at your slick entrance. One finger sinking inside, and then another. Starting a slow rhythm that you find yourself matching, with the drag of your tongue and the rock of your hips.

You wish you could stay just like this forever. This loop of pleasure that sparks from your mouth to your core, giving and receiving. This is the way it should be, you think.

Trapped between them. The only way it would be better was if Logan was inside you.

Sharing you with Wade. Both of them splitting you open as Vanessa keeps your mouth blissfully busy.

The thought had pleasure hitching inside you. Your eyes long squeezed shut, as you concentrate. Trying to keep your pace steady, your lips sealed against her clit. Fingers tracing along her thigh until you can rub against the tight bud, your tongue slipping down to press inside.

She keens, and that pressure inside your surges - crashing over you.

Too much, with the pound of his fingers. Working you open, getting you ready for later. His tongue flicking against your clit - you’re already such a mess that it’s almost cheating with how quickly you’re yanked to the edge.

The suction of his lips pulling you over. Your moan muffled as your nose nuzzles against her mound. Groaning into her pussy as Vanessa’s fingers twist into your hair, tugging.

And when her hips arch, clit pulsing against your tongue a moment later -

It’s bliss.

The aftershocks still wrack through you, when Vanessa lifts off your face. Swooping down to kiss you soundly, your head lifting to chase when she pulls away.

“One.” Logan hums with satisfaction - another slow lick against your core.

“Team effort,” She amends, curling next to you with a smile, “You boys gonna give it a shot?”

Wade grins, as Logan pushes himself up - his cock tented against his sweat. Moving up to kiss you next, and you wonder if he can taste Vanessa on your lips, the way you can taste yourself on his.

His tongue sweet as it swipes against yours - something you’ve dreamed of - wished for - often.

It sends another wash of need over you, as his hands guide you to flip over.

“You Grandpa Joe’d that one, babe,” Wade shakes his head, “Just sat there while our girl and Lo did all the work.”

Her eyes roll, before they flick to yours, “Is that right?”

Your head shakes, pussy-drunk. A soft moan as Logan’s cock swipes against your folds, his hand biting into your hip.

“Wanted to,” You repeat, the words stringing out, pitching high, as he inches into you, “Wanted, fuck, Logan-”

“Want another one, baby.” He hums, sinking slowly into you, “Need to feel you around my cock this time.”

Seating himself in you, as Vanessa’s teeth nip at your neck. As Wade settles in front of you, boxers kicked off - baring mottled skin and the heavy hang of his length.

“Old man’s not gonna last long,” He mock-sighs, “Has been edging that hard-on for you for months now.”

The admission sends heat coursing through you. Recalling all the looks over the late-night hours. Reading into each and every interaction, combing for clues he enjoyed your company as much as you did his.

Who knew all you had to do was ask?

“Keep that mouth shut,” Logan growls, “Or I’ll find a way to keep it busy.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time-” He chokes on the last word, as Vanessa’s hand wraps around him.

“Hush. Not like we haven’t wanted this as well,” She chides, before sending a wink your way. “Let me show you what he likes.”

Letting you watch, as her tongue slips up his shaft.

Letting you join, a moment later.

Spit-slick kisses against the leaking head. Colorful curses strung together as Logan’s thrust sends him nudging against the back of your throat.

It makes your brain spin, thoughts going hazy. Easing off him, so you can mouth at his shaft, tongue dragging against the curve of his sack.

Messy, with the spit that smears against your lips. Hers and yours, melding when Vanessa brings your mouths together, the head of his cock trapped between the two of you.

All but drooling on him, as Logan’s hips snap. Fingers biting into your skin, until a hand slips around your hip.

Skating across slick skin, nudging the tips against your clit.

“Still so fucking wet for us.” It’s growled out, pleased.

His thrusts turning harder, when he feels how you clench around him. Already attuned to the way your body tightens when you’re close - and with the way he’s man-handling you, that heated pleasure is already curling again inside you.

Fucking you, toying with your clit until you’re moaning around Wade’s cock. Fingers denting his thigh as you cling to him, pulling back until your face can bury against his hip.

“Give us a second one, sweetheart.” Logan growls, “Know you fucking need it, can feel you squeezing me.”

You whimper. Too many hands on you - slender fingers against your tits, cupping soft skin. Scarred hands tracing along your jaw, fingers pressing against your tongue.

Teeth biting down - muffled moans as you obey. Coming harder that before with the way you’re stuffed full of cock, your head still hazy from the last round.

The clutch of your cunt pulls him over soon after. A rough snarl, as his hips nudge flush. Cock throbbing, as he fills you with pulse after pulse, painting your walls with his release.

You pant, a palm flattened against Wade’s abs, to steady yourself. The heady thrum lingering, close to painful with how quickly he had made you come again.

A low hiss, when Logan eases himself out. His hand smoothing over your hip, squeezing at your ass.

You can feel him drip from you. Smearing across your inner thigh, as he presses a kiss against to your shoulder.

“Dibs!” Wade grins.

It only takes a moment before he has you flipped over. Settling between your thighs.

Your protest breaking off, turning sharp as his tongue flicks against your sensitive clit.

He never minds cleaning up a mess.

Somewhere along the way, with the swapping of hands and press of mouths, you forget how this all started.

That silly little game slipping from your mind, as you watch Logan make good on his promise. The flex of Wade’s throat as he takes him to the hilt, a contented hum replacing the running commentary.

Getting him ready again for now. Your own legs trembling, knees pressing into the carpet again as you keep your balance.

Leaning into the soft swipe of a tongue between your thighs. Your own teasing clit and cock, dragging against Logan’s length as he rocks into Vanessa.

Her fingers pinch at your tits from beneath you, making you groan. Wade’s spit-slick thumb nudging against your ass, as he sinks deep.

His other hand gripping your hip, tugging you back to meet him, when your rhythm grows sloppy.

Not using to being surrounded, like this.

Logan’s hand on the back of your head. Fingers twisted in your hair, keeping your mouth positioned against the pussy below you.

Keeping you focused, as spit swirls on your tongue. Dropping down from parted lips, as Logan fucks it into her. Your mouth following, feeling how she squirms beneath you.

Wade’s hand around the back of Logan’s neck - tugging until their mouths meet, above. That loop of pleasure, slowly growing.

They ruin you for everyone else. How could you ever go back, after this? Guiding hands as they move you into place. Addicted to the sweet stretch - keeping your mouth and pussy full, just like you needed.

Don’t know how they can keep going. Wade had joked about their stamina before, but you had always thought he was exaggerating.

They seem dead-set on seeing the sunrise with you, and at this moment, you don’t seem to care.

Not with the way Wade’s cock strokes a spot inside you that has you seeing stars. The little whine as you try to squirm away, only to have three sets of hands on you.

Helping you lean into it - the swirling surge that threatens to pull you under. The way you tighten, breath growing short as you pant against Logan’s hip.

Wade’s name on your lips, all but sobbed out.

“Five.” He coos.

And they’re still not finished yet.

You’re using someone’s thigh as a pillow. Logan’s, you think, from the heat and dark dust of hair when your cheek turns.

Fucked out, cock-and-pussy drunk. Completely boneless, and you’re sure you owe someone some dry-cleaning, with the way Wade had just made you gush.

Vanessa’s head tucked against your shoulder, her long hair ticking your nose.

“Did you decide?” She asks sleepily - the slight curve of her lips as for face tips so she can see you.

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip. Wade’s fingers tracing circles against your hip, from where his arm is thrown over the waist.

Greedy girl he has said, earlier. He was right. Always prone to overthinking, but there was something that felt simple, now. Inevitable, in the way that you fit together even better than before.

Like it was always meant to be.

The golden peek of sun washes warm over you, the question coming easily.

“Can I pick all of you?”

She smiles.

“I was hoping you’d ask that.”

thank you so much for reading! 💖

#logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #vanessa carlysle x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #logan howlett smut #xmen x reader #kinktober #kinktober 24

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f1angelz · 5 months ago

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Hey there , saw your requests open soo

Carlos x fem reader

The reader is pretty closed off, calm or unemotional person, works in academia. Somehow her and Carlos are dating and it hasn't been that long. Carlos wants to know more of her and like form an emotional bond but the reader is pretty nonchalant. But he notices that she's much more reactive when they're having sex or getting yk. And he uses that to his advantage to get her to say I love you back (she loves him but never says that)

You can take your time. No worries (•‿•)

𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆? — carlos sainz x f!reader

summary: everyone’s shocked how y/n is carlos sainz’s girlfriend. her personality didn’t really show it— calm and nonchalant, never really the type to open up even towards carlos. will he be able to change that?

content warnings: smut (18+) mdni, cunnilingus, bathroom sex (but there’s no penetration so idk if that’s still considered), not proofread again 😭 please excuse errors you might encounter.

this fic contains super basic spanish words!

── .✦

“No, are you serious?”

“Miss Y/L/N? Dating THE Carlos Sainz?”

“I know, why hasn’t she told us? If I were her, I’d be bragging about it everyday.”

“Maybe that’s why she had someone substitute for her Friday class, she was at the race last week.”

Said the students who gossiped over their TA, Y/N.

Recently, a picture of Carlos and Y/N in the Ferrari garage was released all over social media. It went viral, the post reaching almost a million likes.

Y/N obviously wasn’t the type to post content of her boyfriend. She was rather reserved, her social medias were private and little to no posts— she didn’t even have a TikTok account.

Even at the start of their relationship, Y/N didn’t know Carlos was an F1 driver. She only found out when he invited her to a race.

The sound of Y/N’s heels clicking against the marble tiles echoed throughout the hallway, making her way towards the lecture hall. She pushed the laminated wood door open and the students immediately fell silent, watching her as she made her way towards the desk.

“Mr. Sanders won’t be able to make it today, so he won’t be able to deliver a lecture.” Y/N said while she brought out her laptop and placed it on the desk. After the students heard the news, they whispered a small ‘yes’.

“However, he has instructed me to create a quiz on last week’s lesson.”

The students groaned.

Y/N opened her laptop, “The quiz can now be accessed, you have 1 hour to answer. Goodluck.”

The students got to work and Y/N as well, answering several emails and creating lesson plans for the next semester.

Work never really seemed to end for her, she was always glued to her laptop— and when Carlos wanted to spend time with her, it would take a long persuading to do so.

1 hour quickly passed by and Y/N stood up, “Please submit your quizzes. Late submissions 2 minutes after will incur deductions. Once you have finished, you may leave the lecture hall.”

Some students who were already finished left as instructed while others were still fixing their things.

Just as Y/N was about to fix her things too, her phone vibrated and a notification appeared.

Carlos: Mi preciosa, what time do you get off work?

She opened her phone and replied.

Y/N: Now, actually. Why? My 11 to 3 pm class got cancelled.

Carlos: I was wondering if we could grab lunch? I’ll fetch you from work.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A voice interrupted, Y/N looked up from her phone and saw a group of students surrounding her.

“We’d like to ask what’s the passing score? One of them asked.

“Passing is 25.”

All of them let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss. See you next week!” They replied and slowly walked away “We hope to see you in the race next week.” One joked, causing their elbow to be nudged.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed upon hearing the statement, causing her to stand up. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well you’re all over social media right now, Miss. We know you’re dating Carlos Sainz.”

“Yeah, why haven’t you said anything? It’s something to brag about.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, “Yes, I’m dating Carlos Sainz. Why does that matter? It isn’t my responsibility to announce my relationship status. Now, please leave the lecture hall.”

The students were stunned and they apologized. They left the hall, leaving her all alone.

Y/N huffed and grabbed her things, closed the lights and left the hall.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and messaged Carlos, telling him that she was already off work and already walking towards the exit.

Carlos was already parked outside of the University. Among all the other cars parked there, Y/N knew which one was her boyfriend’s car. She walked towards his car and knocked on the passenger’s door, Carlos opened it and greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N smiled back and sat in the passenger’s seat, closing the door.

“How was work, amor?” Carlos asked as he started leaving the parking lot.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“I guess?” He questioned.

“My students found out that we’re dating.” Y/N sighed and fixed her hair on the mirror.

“How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know, I told them off and I left the lecture hall immediately.”

Carlos glanced over to her, “Amor, what about it if they found out we’re dating? You’re smart, beautiful, and definitely more than what I deserve. What’s the worry?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged off Carlos’ question.

Their lunch ended on a good note and went home immediately after, at Y/N’s apartment.

Y/N tapped her keycard against the door lock, pushing it open. She took off her heels and placed it on the shoe rack behind the door, Carlos’ actions following hers. The cold beige colored marble tiles made contact with feet, her thin socks barely giving her any warmth.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Y/N announced, making her way towards the bedroom and Carlos hummed in response.

He always wondered why she wasn’t as open towards him. Sure, she’s shared some things about her past, and her life in general, but she never really shared anything regarding her emotions.

Although she’s somewhat affectionate, it’s still a shock to her how she really just couldn’t say the three words that meant the most— I love you.

The sound of metal clinking on the ceramic jewelry plate resonated throughout the bedroom, Y/N taking off her accessories before she showered.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” Carlos leaned against the bathroom’s doorway, watching Y/N as she unbuttoned her blue silk button down top. She looked towards his direction, flashing him a small smile.

As she was about to unbutton the last one, Carlos wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, closing the gap between them. His hands wandered, while he placed soft kisses on Y/N’s neck.

“Carlos..” Her words fell, lost in his kisses. “— what are you doing..” She let out a soft moan.

“Te gusta, Mi amor?” Carlos said in between kisses, slowing making them aggressive.

“Si…” Was all Y/N managed to let out.

It was like Carlos turned on a switch in her brain, he never saw her like this. Submissive, melting even at the slightest touch.

Out of desperation, Y/N guided his hand towards her right breast, pushing her bra. Carlos played with her nipple, tugging and pulling on it. Y/N looked at herself in the mirror in front of her, desperate and needy for her lover’s touch.

She finally removed her top, only leaving her in her bra and panties, her slacks gone even before Carlos entered.

“Hermosa.” Carlos said under his breath, looking at Y/N’s figure on the mirror. She turned around and faced him, pulling him in for a deep, passionate kiss. “May I take this off?” Carlos asked in between kisses and tugged on her bra strap, she hummed in response. With one swift movement, her bra fell loose, letting it drop on the floor.

Carlos pulled away and unbuttoned his linen polo, tossing it somewhere. Y/N couldn’t believe what was in front of her— it was her first time seeing Carlos topless. She placed a hand on his chest and he watched, her hand slowly going down towards his crotch.

Before she could unbuckle his belt, Carlos inched towards her, causing her to lean against the sink.

“Sit on the counter for me, yeah?” And she obliged, her feet hanging off the counter.

Y/N’s hands wandered along his chest and arms, desperate for his next move. Carlos brought his hand towards her left breast, kneading it as his mouth latched onto her right nipple. She felt herself getting wet, her core beginning to feel a familiar tingle.

Carlos pulled away for a moment, “Is this okay?” She nodded, her free hand making its way towards her core, ready to touch herself. But Carlos was quick to stop her, “Ah ah, no. Let me.”

“Por favor, Carlos.” Y/N begged, growing impatient.

Carlos laughed, “Since when were you so impatient, amor?” He took off her panties and tossed them aside, revealing her wet core.

Y/N spread her pussy lips apart, her clit exposed and covered with her wetness. Carlos went on his knees and placed kisses on her inner thigh, inching closer towards her pussy. Y/N grabbed his hair, desperately wanting to be touched.

He placed his thumb on the entrance of her pussy, spreading her wetness around. Y/N’s breath hitched, “Fuck, Carlos.” He licked her clit gently, his thumb still toying with her entrance.

“You love this, no?” Carlos taunted, his licks now turned into sucking which made her crazier.

“So— so much, f-fuck! More!” Y/N moaned out, her grip on Carlos’ dark brown locks tightening.

Carlos picked up the pace, her sounds of pleasure growing louder and louder each time his tongue grazed over her clit.

Y/N brought her hand towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple to stimulate herself.

Carlos couldn’t believe the sight before him. Her chest heaving up and down, breaths shaky from the work his tongue was doing on her pussy.

He felt that Y/N was cumming soon, her wetness growing even more. “Are you close, amor?” Y/N nodded like her life depended on it, “Si, amor— fuck! I’m so close!” She struggled to say, her orgasm nearing.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, please— please! I want to cum!”

“Tell me that you love me, and I’ll let you cum.” Carlos stopped sucking on her pussy and rubbed her clit with his thumb instead, in a painfully slow motion.

“W-what?” She breathed out, unsure of what he said.

“Tell me you love me.” Carlos stood up and pulled her closer, his middle and ring finger rubbing her clit as he picked up the pace.

Y/N jaw remained open, unable to comprehend what Carlos said.

“Cat got your tongue, amor?” He smirked and rubbed even faster, the sound of her wetness spreading around her skin.

“A-ah! I love you— fuck! I love you, C-carlos!” She screamed as her orgasm came over her, her legs tightened on his hips. Carlos groaned, giving her wet pussy a slap before slightly pulling away.

Y/N processed what happened, she actually said I love you.

How did that happen?

Still recovering from her orgasm, she was panting heavily. Carlos took a good look at the sight in front of him, satisfied with what he did.

“If it takes an orgasm for you to say those words,” Carlos panted, running his hand through his hair. “Then I’d give you an orgasm everyday.”

Y/N let out a laugh, “I never really said I love you because I thought it was too early.”

Or maybe because she wasn’t used to it.

“Amor, I’ve always wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth ever since we’ve started dating.” Carlos cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. “Por favor, mi amor. Please say I love you more often.”

“But that means I wouldn’t be able to get orgasms anymore.” She joked, Carlos laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum anytime you want.” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“I love you too, mi preciosa.”

── .✦

a/n: this was a experience to write! i haven’t written smut in a while 😭

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x f!reader #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic

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deadbydad-writes · 10 months ago

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Professor! Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcanons

Sorry I've been gone for so long, school and family stuff happened and yeah, but I'm back! And, I have a gift! There isn't enough of Professor Miguel O'Hara tbh

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had went up to you after class, asking you why you were failing your Spanish tests and why you weren't doing well on your work.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had offered to privately tutor you himself, offering to give you lessons after school and even on the weekends if possible

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had invited you to study there on the weekends, saying that it was better for him to help you there instead of some old boring classroom

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who you started to have catch feelings for, noticing how bigger he was compared to you but he was always gentle with you

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had eyed your body after sometime, admiring how you acted around him and how much you had improved with your Spanish.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who started to give you small kisses on your cheek, forehead, neck and shoulders whenever you passed a quiz or finished your work on time.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had you laid out on his own bed, his lips pressed against yours and his fingers buried deep inside your dripping cunt after you went to his house to show him your grade in his class.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had one hand gripping your waist, his palm warm against your skin as he had your legs around his own waist.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who whispered sweet praises and promises in your ear as he gripped the headboard of his bed as he fucked his large cock into your tight pussy, making you moan and squirm underneath him in pleasure.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who kissed and nibbled on your neck, saying that he would put his baby in you, mark you as his own, telling you how beautiful you would look with your belly all round and full and your tits swollen with milk.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who fucked you until you came on his cock, screaming his name as you arched your back off the bed and your nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who filled you up with his cum until you felt it drip out of you and down your thighs, whining in discomfort as he pulled out.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who cleaned the mess up with his tongue, coaxing you into another orgasm as he lapped at your soaked folds, a grin on his face as he pulled himself away from in-between your thighs.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who bathed and cleaned you, dressed you in a set of new clean panties and one of his shirts, admiring how big it was on you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who wrapped his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he placed his hands on your stomach, whispering in your ear how good of a mommy you were gonna be and how well he would treat you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who held you close and watched you fall asleep in his arms, kissing your forehead as he too drifted off to sleep.

How did I do on this? Please let me know in the comments, and hey should I do a part two of this?

If you have any suggestions, for if there is gonna be a next part to this, then please do tell me in my inbox! I would love to hear some ideas from you guys!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this! I love you guys, and I'm so excited to be writing again!

Also, here is a link to this list!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #smut writing

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messylxve · 6 months ago

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ignited spark | aaron hotchner x reader

part one

pt 2 pt3

content warning : angst, pining, first kiss, drunk aaron, haley, sad ending

You met Aaron when you were young. When the biggest worry in your world was the next pop quiz in your Criminal Law class. He was pretty, smart, charming, and had a killer smile to match. You were quiet, shy, but easily the smartest one in the class.

He had often found himself glancing at you from across the room during lectures, a soft smile gracing his features when he noticed the way you color coded your notes based on your highlighters. Yet, whenever you looked up at him, his gaze was oddly fully focused on the professor ahead of him.

“I might just be going crazy Macy,” you reassured your friend one day. Or maybe you were reassuring yourself. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Orrr,” she grinned, walking alongside you. “This guy totally has the hots for you and you need to make a move.”

You snorted. “When pigs fl—,”

You never finished your sentence. Whatever you were going to say was clear out your mind by time your brain even process that you collided with someone, knocking your books and notes clean out your hand.

“I’m so sorry, that was completely my fault.”

You recognized his voice from the times he’d raise his hands in class and ask a question.

Words failed you as he kneeled down in front of you and pick up each of your things with upmost care. “I-.”

“Here. Again I’m so sorry.”

You sucked in a harsh breath as you grasped the books in your hands. “Thanks…”

“Always.” He flashed that smile at you and he was gone, walking away from you. Missing your moment. Missing the way he took one more glance back at you as he continued on his own path.

“Don’t tell me…” your friend started, amusement painting their voice. “Was that the mysterious man from your class?”

You cleared your throat, shoving away the embarrassment that creeped up your neck. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny that.”

You didn’t want to admit it but that interaction left you with a smile for the rest of the day.

The next time you interacted with Aaron, you were alone. Books surrounded you as you worked quietly in the library, head bopping softly to your music.

The last thing you expected was him, but alas he was there. You saw his shadow first, it draped itself over the book you copied notes from and blocked the light from shining over you.

“y/n right? You’re in my Criminal Law class.”

“How do you know my name?”

You didn’t mean to come off as so defensive, but you heart beat so fast in your chest, you couldn’t help but blurt out your words.

“Umm…your friend told me I could find you in here. I needed help with something for class.”

You had cleared a seat for him and gave him all the help you could give.

The friendship only ever bloomed from there.

An hour into the fourth study session, the two of you had completely forgotten the books, now broken into fits of giggles attempting to stay quiet in the library and failing. Horribly.

“God you make jokes like a dad would. Has anyone told you that?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, but his smile persisted. “I’ve heard it before. My girlfriend though compares it to an uncles humor ironically enough.”

You hoped it hadn’t been noticeable, but your smile eased up at the moment. Flickering away for a millisecond. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” he smiled obliviously. “I didn’t tell you about her?”

You shook your head and pressed on a smile. “Not that I remember.”

You watched, disheartened as he flipped open his wallet and passed you a photo of him and a woman. She was wearing a gorgeous gown and he was dressed as a pirate for some reason.

She was painfully gorgeous.

“Her name’s Haley. We started dating in high school and it’s been great ever since.”

You studied the photo a little while longer, your mind reaching other places. In that moment, you could have been resentful or hateful. You could picked a fight and scoffed about him leading you on.

But you didn’t.

With a smile, you passed the picture back. “She’s cute. You guys are cute.”

Who are you to get angry over someone who isn’t yours?

The study sessions continued on as if nothing ever happened and soon enough, you convinced yourself that truly nothing ever happened. You two were now friends and that’s all you wanted.

It became a tradition then to meet every weekend at that table. Then one weekday turned into the weekend. Then the weekend turned into every other day. Soon enough, you guys were attached at the hip, finding time to eat lunch together, listening to lectures in class together, even sneaking into each others dorms after curfew for movie nights.

The two of you were easily best friends and per the rules of best friendship, you two shared nearly everything. Stories about the god awful roommate, awkward confrontations with professors, even stories of embarrassing slip ups made.

You two told each other almost everything. Which was why it was so weird to hear about his break up with Haley from his friend.

He had called you from Aaron’s phone, so you didn’t think twice about picking up the phone. But when you heard the loud music and starkly different voice, you knew something was wrong.

“y/n?”

“Mark? Where’s Aaron, is everything okay?”

“Aaron’s fine. Physically at least…look I need your help.”

You noted the slight slur over his words as he slowly began to panic.

“Anything.”

“Haley broke up with Aaron and he…well he didn’t take well to I suggested we go out for drinks since it’s spring break and so he could feel better, but when I turn around he downed like 7 shots and now he can barely stand and I didn’t think ahead and I’m drunk so I can’t take us home but he’s plastered so he can’t take him home either and I called my friend but they have the tiniest fucking clown car ever and he can’t fit so-,”

“Mark! Breathe. I can’t understand you.”

“Sorry…”

“Do you have a ride?”

“Yes.”

“Does Aaron need a ride?”

“No. I mean yes. Yes he needs a ride.”

“Where are you?”

There was silence for a moment. “Miller’s.”

“I’ll be there in 10.”

Aaron didn’t talk until he reached his empty dorm, putting more than half of his body weight on you.

“Haley broke things off.”

Your heart broke into a million pieces at the sight of his sad face. His eyes were wet, but not yet ready to release the tears the built and a pout fell upon his lips.

“I know.”

He had dragged you into bed with him, hugging you to his chest like a pillow as he sulked. You took the embrace hesitantly but welcomed it. Your arms wrapped around his waist and you kicked off your shoes, climbing into bed with him.

“I tried to tell her that I can be better. I can call her more, and visit her more, but…she didn’t want to hear it.”

You looked up at him sadly. “It’s not your fault…long distance just isn’t made for everyone.”

A silence spread over you two and you thought he’d fallen asleep.

“She said I’m in love with you…”he blurted out.

It was an awful feeling hearing those words. It felt as if a bomb had dropped into the abyss of your stomach, but it never went off. It simply sat there and weighed so heavily down on you. Tugging at the string of your heart and encapsulating your lungs in a chokehold.

“She said I’m in love with you and I don’t even know it.”

Saying it a second time only confirmed the dread inside of you was true.

“…what did you say?”

“Nothing. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Oh.”

You don’t know how long you sat there, frozen in place and frozen in mind. It felt like forever and nothing at all. It felt like you were dying.

“I need to leave,” you started abruptly. You untangled yourself from his arms and sheets and began to slip your shoes back on but a hold on your wrist stopped you.

“Kiss me.”

What?

You had to be dreaming.

Or maybe it was a nightmare.

“Aaron, I’m not going to—,”

“If you kiss me then I’ll know.” Determination shined in his eyes and he furrowed his brows down into a frown. “I’ll know if I’m in love you or if Haley is wrong.”

You didn’t know what to do. Your face felt numb and your heart. Oh your heart. It ached. Seeing such sadness painted on his face was the first blow, but his words…His words were like a hammer to porcelain.

So you laughed. If you could even call it that. It was more like you breathing out for the first time in minutes. “I’m not going to kiss you—.”

You didn’t think he’d get any closer but he did. He scoot down to the very edge of the bed and tugged you forward so that his legs laid on either side of you.

“Please.”

Your heart melted into nothing as he brushed his nose against yours. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as his lips whispered over yours but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

It was Aaron. How could you care about something like that?

It was a moment of desperation that surged your lips forward, pressing into his in a sloppy but arguably perfect kiss.

Your hands immediately rushed up to meet his hair, tugging and running your fingers through his gorgeous locks.

You dreamed of this moment since he approached you in the library asking for help, but none of your fantasies could live up to this.

His lips were unexpectedly soft and gentle as they moved down your jawline and to your neck. He left open mouthed kisses now, eliciting gasps from your mouth.

It was bliss for the first minute. 60 seconds of heaven as you basked in the glory of being loved by Aaron Hotchner.

But when those 60 seconds were up, you crashed down to Earth and realized what the hell you just did.

You pushed him away, fear shining in your eyes. Or was it tears.

“This was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”

He was drunk for christ sake. What was wrong with you?

You didn’t look back as you rushed out of him room, slamming the door behind you.

It took you two days to cook up the courage to talk to him again. He had left you so many missed calls and you felt terrible as you let it go to voicemail, but you couldn’t find it in you to talk to him yet.

The day you finally chose to talk to him, you were ready. You had a paper of what to say in case you lost your words. Macy said it read out more a confession and maybe it was, but you needed you speak your peace. You needed to know that everything was going to be okay.

You clutched the paper in you hand as you approached the elevator that would take you to his floor. Hesitantly, you reached to touch the button, but pulled back when the door opened on its own.

By some higher power, your dread grew even more when you saw the face on the other side of the door.

What are the odds you’d see Haley Brooks right as you were going to confess to her ex-boyfriend.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, immediately recognizing you. “You’re y/n! I can’t believe this!”

Haley immediately stepped out the elevator, a bright smile finding her lips.

“You’re…Haley.”

She was somehow even prettier in real life. It almost hurt.

“I just have to say…I’m so sorry for ever accusing you of anything. I was concerned and worried and paranoid cause to be honest, I haven’t spent this long away from Aaron.”

These words were supposed to be relieving. Why didn’t you feel relieved?

“What did he tell you?” It came out as a pathetic croak.

“He told me that he does love you, but not in the way I thought. That you’re his best friend in the highest regard and every time we were having a rough patch, you were there to make sure we were okay.”

Suddenly would remembered every time you gave him relationship advice. Every time you told him to cherish what he has, appreciate every moment he has with Haley because time was most important to a long distance relationship.

Were you really your own betrayer?

“You were there for him when I couldn’t be. And you made us both realize that we need to appreciate what we have, because it’s special and important.”

You did say that. Didn’t you?

You couldn’t remember the rest of Haley’s words. You didn’t want to remember the rest of her words. You don’t know how long it had been since she left, but when you finally came to your senses, you folded that note into your pocket and stepped away from the elevator.

You couldn’t bring yourself to see Aaron Hotchner ever again. So you didn’t.

part 2 out now!!

taglist: @mackannkees

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n0tamused · 5 months ago

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*holds u at gunpoint* dr ratio helping u study for an exam/ quiz. Am i going through an exam rn? Yes. Will it stop me from reading ratio fan fics? No

A/N: *points a second gun at you* better watch where you're going cowboy. And felt this so bad, procrastination is killing me too, but Dr. Ratio fics never fail to make me feel something again, delulu is the solulu but only for a moment. Anyway, anon, hope you enjoy this blurpp, I wish you luck on your exams! <3 Wrote this while procrastinating myself, I gotta lock in tomorrow hhhhhhh

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader, can be read as modern au, fluff, possible grammar mistakes (I'm about to pass out)

“Here” A porcelain cup slid your way over the polished wood desk. It was a pretty off-white, rimmed with a golden line and another purple one, thinner than the gold. Tea steamed from within, wafting off the soothing floral smell. You sighed, quickly averting your glance back at the books open before you. There were two books, thick and intimidating, and your open notebook you were reading your scribbly notes from.

Circling around you Veritas’ looming frame cast a shadow over your papers for a moment before he seated himself in the chair next to you, his own cup in hand. “You're still on the same problem as when you started?” He clicks his tongue, nursing a sip of his tea before setting it aside when he appears satisfied. You didn't have it in you to respond, wishing to avoid any form of an outlash, especially taken in the fact you had already told him how you struggled with procrastination for quite a handful of days. He has given his advice, but they failed to make the spark with you last long enough to properly sit and study, and that all caused guilt to claw at your belly from within.

Veritas, on the other hand, didn't seem half as phased as you thought he'd be, at first he didn't even notice how your eyes looked at him in a silent plea for mercy. His amber eyes looked over your notes, at all the scribbles and marked words, letting out a low “hmmm”.

“And tell me, what is it that has you so stumped about this? It's quite an easy equation” he wondered, a little taken aback it was taking you so long on this, yet he had to remind himself that this material was new to you, unlike him who has seen this material countless times over. You weren't dumb, however, so what is it..?

“I.. don't know... The results I've gotten previously make no sense and they do not match the one the professor got in class. His is the right result, and I don't get how every time I did the problem, I got a different result” you began, voice initially quiet as if begging his ears to become deaf to your words, but your plea went unanswered. His keen eyes regarded you with a strange curiosity, his chin leaning on his hand. Only now did he realize how tense you looked. He blinks at you owlishly, studying your features for a brief moment before turning his gaze back towards the papers. “That is a problem.. Where is the formula your professor used? Do you have his equation as a whole written down here?”

You looked at him and then at the papers, eyes flickering all across the written words and printed text. “I.. I do.. Yes, why?”

A scoff came first, “Why, so I can take a look at it so I can help you. You did ask me to help you, did you not?”, then his large hand picked up the pen you had abandoned on top of your notes, motioning for you to show him the notes. “We can go step by step and then compare the progress to see where your problem lies”

Nodding, you were quick to breeze through the old notes, paper pages fluttering as you went over each one until finally reaching a page so full of equations it made your head hurt. With your finger you point to the one you were currently trying to figure out. “This one.. This is just a copy of what the professor did on the white board.. and this is the formula he used '' you showed him, letting him slide the notebook to his side of the desk when his fingers pinched the corner.

Silence engulfed the room, and for a long while you could only watch as Veritas’ expression changed from focused, to confused and then to frustrated.

“Are you sure this is what the professor wrote down? This is entirely incorrect. The formula alone is wrong, and the process of his calculations is just abhorrent.. What is this-” he slightly nudged the notebook away from him, offended by its contents, to say the least.

Like a little wet rat, you held your hands together, feeling guilty for all reasons you shouldn’t, a pout playing about your lips as you nodded. “Yes. That is what the professor wrote! One of my colleagues even took a picture at the end of the class since she was too lazy to write it all down herself, so I know for a fact I didn’t copy the notes wrong” you rushed to explain as your eyes glared at the offending problem.

“That is ridiculous” Veritas grumbled as he opened the big math book a few pages back from where you had opened it, searching for the formulas, and pointing towards one he softened his tone. “This formula should have been used in this problem. It is similar, yes, but the functions can’t be any more different from what your.. professor used” looking down at your notes and at the problem afterwards, he sneered, seeing that the formula was used once again in the next equation. “I don’t know what your professor was thinking, but repeating the same mistake twice is beyond ignorant..”

“What..? So..? So he is in the wrong?”

“Yes. Now.. show me the way you did it. And do it with this formula I just showed you” Veritas instructed, his nose scrunched up in disgust, although none of it was directed at you but rather at this person he didn’t even know. Perhaps he should go and meet him, just to see the face of ignorance and negligence in human form.

Following his advice, you did as he asked, working on the problem with Veritas sitting at your side, his eyes occasionally flickering to the remaining problems that would follow this one.

“There… Is this right..?” You pulled back to allow him a better view of your writing, and it didn’t take the brilliant Veritas Ratio too long to check that you were - in fact - right. His face eased slightly from its previous tension, sighing he gave a nod of satisfaction and acknowledgement.

“That’s right. Well done” Veritas says, voice significantly softer as he addresses you, before turning sharper once more. “I knew something was wrong when you got stuck on this for so long. You managed to solve all those problems I gave you yesterday, which are arguably much harder than this and much more complex with extra steps.. Hmph, can’t believe someone didn’t point out this error in your professors work”

Veritas leaned back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest in a comfortable fashion in which he usually sat around you, his whole composure softening, but through and through, it was the Veritas Ratio you always knew. Hope lit up in your eyes at the unraveling of this problem that nearly had you sick to the stomach for this whole day.

“So..I know this?..Does this mean I won’t fail..?

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, of course you won’t! You’ve got me to teach you, and let me be damned if you fail”

A victorious cackle left you as he said so, feeling free of the clutches of madness this exam has put you into, and as to celebrate you all but flung yourself onto Veritas, hugging him.

The sudden embrace surprised him and made him stutter, but his arms were quick to find their place around your body, scoffing, even as he tucked his face into your shoulder.

#-dragon.treasure #Dr. Ratio #Dr ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio x you #dr ratio imagine #dr ratio honkai star rail #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio x rader #veritas ratio fluff #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff #fluff #honkai star rail imagine #gn reader

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urfavstargirl1 · 2 years ago

Note

Here’s a little prompt ig you can call it for you Eddie fluff buttttt Eddie is crushing on shy!reader? Idk if that helps with ideas but yea :)

hey anon, don't think I forgot about you babe. still in the mood for fluff but finally found the time to write

-----------------------------

Talk

"Psst," Eddie hisses from the desk next to you.

You look at him from the corner of your eye, turning your head slightly to the other side.

“Hey," he gently taps your desk, giving you no other choice than to nervously peer up at him, "Do you have a pencil I could borrow?”

Borrow. No amount of stars in his eyes or sweetness in his smile could distract from the fact that this would be the fourth pencil in a row he’s borrowed this week.

You almost want to say something, but it’s not worth the trouble. Why make a big deal out of something as small as a pencil?

“Please,” he whispers as the person in front of him passes a stack of papers to him.

You reluctantly oblige. You always have a stash of pencils in your bag. Eddie seems to have observed as much and was poised to use it to his advantage.

Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. At least that’s what your parents always said.

So, of course, you were always prepared for anything. Having a backpack with extra pencils, a sharpener, mini first aid kit, period products, hair ties, and even a snack or two has come in handier more often than you'd like to admit.

It always astonishes you to see people like Eddie who don't seem to be prepared for anything. At least not that you could see in class.

However, it was just your luck that Eddie Munson would be the one to identify this fact of yours, thanks to the stupid seating chart Ms. O’Donnell had in class forcing Eddie sit to right next to you.

You almost resented her for it. Teachers were always sitting the bad kids or the loud kids next to you, hoping your shy and quiet demeanor would somehow cancel theirs out like some stupid pemdas math equation.

But no, that was not how the laws of the universe worked. Sitting next to Eddie didn't make a difference in his behavior, much to Ms. O'Donnell's dismay.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” Eddie grinned at you, making your eyes widen and heart constrict in your chest. And perhaps that was one of the few plus sides, not nearly enough to counteract the many downsides to sitting next to Eddie: that thing you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Some could call it charm. Others might call it charisma. You weren't sure what to call it. But all you knew was that before this class, you wouldn't have given much thought to Eddie. If you saw him in the hall, you would either not notice him completely or if you did, you probably wouldn't get any goosebumps or an alarmingly high pulse like you do now.

Whenever he smiled at your or talked to you, even about something as simple as borrowing a pencil, he always said it like you were special, and his smile or words were for you and you only.

No one had ever made you feel that way before.

You could barely admit to yourself how much you liked your minute daily interactions with Eddie, let alone tell him.

So like always, you turned your attention forward, failing to ignore that thump thump, thump thump feeling of your heart beat somehow louder or maybe just faster as a result of that stupid smile and tried desperately to ignore the feeling and instead, get to work on your pop quiz.

****

After you've turned in your pop quiz, waited a mind-numbingly boring amount of minutes between the quiz and the end of class, the bell rings.

The sound of the tinkly metal chime brings you back to life. You organize your things in your bag and get up from your desk.

From the corner of your eye, you see Eddie barely finishing up with his quiz.

Just like yesterday and the day before, you know he's not going to give you your pencil back. For all you know, he'll need it for his other classes. Which makes you wonder how he survived the periods before yours.

But for now, you're just relieved class is over and you can enjoy a much needed break at lunch.

You make your way to the door of the classroom and exit into the hall, thrust into the sea of students making their daily migration to the cafeteria. Before you can even make it to the end of the hall, Eddie catches up to you.

"Hey neighbor," a deep voice reverberates behind you and suddenly, a warm shoulder lightly presses into yours.

You turn your head to the side of the offender and find a wild head of frizzy tousled waves framing the face of none other than Eddie Munson.

Your eyes widen and lips part. Your expression frozen as you process the fact that Eddie is currently standing next to you, and closely enough that you can feel the warmth of his body.

"H-Hi," you say as more of a question than a greeting.

"I believe this belongs to you," he says as though he's handing you some sort of precious gem despite only the wooden pencil being offered from his rough ring clad hand.

"O-oh. Thanks," you say in bewilderment, slowly accepting the pencil from him.

He smiles at you again and it that same heart-wrenching smile that just makes you want to faint into his arms.

"I should be the one thanking you. Can't army crawl my way to a D without the proper equipment," he jokes.

You smile and awkwardly laugh, instantly feeling guilt about being so annoyed by lending him a pencil when he's obviously struggling in class.

You settle into a silence. Something you're usually comfortable with, but as you've somewhat gotten to know Eddie in class, realize he may just be the opposite.

"So, you don't really talk much, huh?" Eddie ask as you both continue walking to the cafeteria.

You guess you and Eddie are walking to lunch together now.

You shrug at his question. This isn't the first time someone has asked you this and it definitely won't be the last. "What's there to say?"

"Lot of things," Eddie shrugs and smiles at you.

How can you talk, when Eddie's stupid smiles send you into a mental frenzy, preventing any sort of coherent speech.

You shake your head and try to find the right words, something you seem especially to have trouble with around Eddie.

"I don't know. Talking's overrated. You can learn way more about a person by listening."

"Gotcha," Eddie nods, "So what have you learned about me?"

"That you never come to class prepared," you say without even thinking.

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, you wish they hadn't. Instantly feeling remorse and embarrassment at the fact that the filter you are usually good at using when speaking to anyone besides your friends has somehow seemed to disappear in the presence of Eddie Munson.

Meanwhile Eddie is doubled over laughing at your blatant response.

"I'm sorry. What I meant was-"

Eddie places a hand on your shoulder and smiles at you with both his mouth and his eyes, "Don't be. It's true."

You face forward and nod, already feeling a warmth crawl to your cheeks.

"Hey," he nudges your shoulder, making you look into his warm brown eyes, "But if you don't talk, how am I ever gonna learn anything about you?"

You gasp as though you got sucker punched in the stomach.

Your brain can barely even scramble to mutter a coherent response.

Your eyebrows raise and your eyelids blink.

This is also why you don't talk a lot. Half the time, the thoughts in your brain don't seem to know how to make it to your mouth, and the other half, well, your mouth just ends up doing all the talking for you.

"Watch where you're going freak," someone shouts near you and Eddie.

Before you've even realized it, you've made it to the cafeteria and got into the lunch line with Eddie.

Eddie scowls and merely flips the student off before turning to you and smiling.

You shyly smile back, but still severely aware of the comment he had made.

Eddie... wants to learn about you?

"Seriously though," he laughs, a certain sort of rasp more pronounced in his voice, "What's a guy gotta do?"

You shrug, not sure how to answer what is a rather loaded question for you.

"I don't know," you answer frankly. "Talk is cheap. A lot of times people are saying things without really saying anything important, you know?"

"So you only talk when you really want to say something, when you mean it?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you nod.

"I see," Eddie nods and gestures for you to go before him as you approach the food station.

As you grab your tray Eddie leans over to you and says, "Why don't you sit with me and my friends today? They can be a bit of a riot but I think you'll like 'em."

On any other occasion, his offer would practically give you a heart attack, but seeing as all your other friends are either in study hall or have a different lunch period leaves you no other choice.

"Um, sure," you nervously smile and let him lead the way to his table.

"Gentlemen, meet Y/N. She'll be sitting with us today so let's give her a warm Hellfire welcome," Eddie announces as he sets his tray down at the end of the table. Two rows of boys sit on either side of the table, letting about six sets of eyes land on you.

You smile nervously and wave awkwardly, "Hi."

There's no empty seats next to Eddie, but before you can find another one by the other end of the table, Eddie shoos some of the boys to his right to scoot down a seat creating an empty one next to his.

You gracefully take a seat and mutter a quick thanks to the closest boy.

"So, what's Hellfire?" You ask nonchalantly. But perhaps it was a naive question because it causes the rest of the boys to go into a full tizzy.

"Eddie!"

"You didn't tell her?"

"It's the only saving grace in this god-forsaken hell hole."

Comments and exclamations come flying at you meanwhile Eddie can only smile and stare at you, simultaneously making your chest feel warm and like you want to crawl under a rock.

Eddie lays a warm palm along your forearm, "Patience, young jedi, you'll soon learn the ways of the Hellfire Club."

You eyes instantly shoot down to look at his limb connected to yours. And instinctively, you look up at the boy across from you, as if to silently ask, "Are you seeing this too?"

And he looks at you with widened blue eyes and eyebrows that almost reach the head of light brown wavy hair as if to say, "Yeah, I'm seeing this too. It's weird, right?"

You subtly nod, because it is weird. Not entirely unwelcome, but definitely unexpected.

Eddie retracts his hand and begins to say something. The table has all eyes on him, but not you. You're still replaying what just happened in your brain over and over again like a carousel projector caught on the same slide.

"Right Y/N?" Eddie asks.

You shake your head and mutter a quick apology. "Huh?"

"Well while you were off in la la land and, trust me, I don't blame you. I do it all the time myself. But we were just talking about tonights Hellfire meeting. You in?"

Oh no, he caught you. Does he have any idea you were thinking about how warm and rough his hand felt on your skin? Or how strong his fingers felt?

Hopefully not.

But the more important thing to worry about now is the fact that Eddie just invited you to Hellfire Club!

What does this mean?

Should you say yes?

You kind of have to say yes right? It'd be rude not to. And it seems like a big enough deal to him and his friends. But you still have no idea what Hellfire is or what's gonna happen tonight. But you guess you're just going to have to find out.

"Um, yeah," you reply with a shy and bright smile.

"Yeah," Eddie fist pumps in the air. "Okay, so I gotta warn you, these guys can get pretty reckless. But I know you can handle it."

You smile with your lips closed and nod. Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

"Meet us in the drama room after school, okay?"

"Sure," you nod and shyly smile at the other boys.

After school comes like clockwork and you find yourself nervously approaching the drama room doors. A poster with messy handwriting reads, "Hellfire Club Meeting in Session."

Okay, here goes.

You open the door, and enter the dark space. You wander through the room, guided by the warm stage-lights turned on further inside.

You eyes land on Eddie, who's sitting at a throne prop no doubtedly used by the drama club for the upcoming play. He's seated at the head of the table, just like at lunch.

He goes between reading a piece of paper and adjusting figurines on the table.

As you walk further into the room, you see no one else is here yet. It's just you and Eddie.

And before you can even say anything, your footsteps are enough to announce your presence causing Eddie with a face of concentration adorning his scrunched up brows and pursed lips, to a full on grin and lit up eyes as he sees you.

"Hey neighbor," he gets up from the throne and jogs over to you.

You nervously grin and offer a small squeaky, “Hey.”

He gets closer to you and swiftly encloses you in a bear hug.

Your body tenses and your eyes flinch shut. You didn't expect him to make such a move, much less so casually. But then you take a second to embrace the feeling of his strong arms around you. The warmth of his body against yours. Or the scent of soap and tobacco lingering on his clothes.

And before you can even think to hug him back, he pulls away, but leaves one arm wrapped around your shoulder and guides you to the table, "I'm glad you could make it."

You make a sound adjacent to a nervous laugh, “Yeah.”

Eddie pulls the chair closest to throne out for you to take a seat. Eddie sits on the edge of the table and looks down at you.

“Alright so before everyone else shows up let me fill you in on how things go down in Hellfire.”

The feeling of your surprise and almost fear at the unknown of what will happen must be evident on your face because Eddie leans forward and places a comforting hand on your forearm again.

“Don’t worry okay, it’s gonna be fun,” he says in a voice you find utterly endearing but aren’t poised enough to really appreciate it because all you can focus is on is the feeling of flames at the point where Eddie’s skin and your meets.

“O-Okay,” you force yourself to utter.

You focus as best as you can while Eddie explains the game of Dungeons and Dragons to you, but by god is it easy to get lost in those stars in his eyes.

Soon the rest of the boys start showing up and they help explain a few other things too.

Before you know it, you're in the midst of your first campaign. You have no idea what you're doing half the time, but Eddie was surprisingly right. It is fun.

So much fun in fact that you've lost track of time. And now you really should be heading home before your parents start to worry.

But Eddie has hypnotized you. You don't want this night to ever end. But it has to. And now, all the boys are packing up their things and getting ready to leave. And so should you. So you do.

And as the boys begin to trickle out of the room, Eddie looks at you and says the magic words: "Hey, can I give you a ride home?"

If someone would have told you earlier today that you'd be spending the evening with Eddie Munson at Hellfire Club and would even be getting a ride home from him, you would have never believed them.

But anything could happen.

"Yeah," you nod breathlessly.

The night sweeps you by as you find yourself in the passenger seat of Eddie's large beat up van with loud metal music blaring from the speakers.

But it feels oddly comforting. And you don't mind being the passenger seat princess with Eddie's music and fast paced train of thought filling the space.

You could listen to Eddie talk for hours. Whether it be in that silly medieval accent he does for Hellfire or in his normal voice with just enough rasp and deepness to it that you love.

As Eddie's van crawls along the curb to your front yard, and as he shifts the gear into park, a wave of sadness overcomes you.

You look out the window and over to Eddie. You press you lips together and shrug, pointing out the window with your thumb, "This is me."

Eddie nods and rubs the palm of his hand along the nape of his neck, "Yeah. Listen, uh, I had a lot of fun with you today."

"Me too," you squeak.

Eddie's eyes light up as he looks into yours, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you shyly smile, feeling heat crawl to your cheeks and neck.

"Cool, yeah, I'm glad," Eddie flounders around his words as he lays his palms flat along his thighs and rubs them along the denim, slightly avoiding your gaze.

"Eddie," you ask as you shift your head, looking for his eyes. When he lets you find them, he smiles nervously.

Eddie. Nervous? No way.

"Sorry, uh, I don't usually get like this," Eddie looks away and awkwardly laughs. "Kind of funny how I'm the shy one now."

"It's okay," you reassure him.

He pauses for a moment, and you decide to do something unexpected. You place a gentle hand on his forearm, attempting to comfort him the way he had for you.

He briefly flits his eyes up to yours and lets out a breathless laugh. With his other hand, he guides your hand to move down and interlock with his. He squeezes firmly, grounding himself in your touch.

"You're really cool, you know that?" Eddie smiles at you earnestly.

"No, but thanks," you shyly smile back, feeling about one million butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Would it be cool if I, um... Could I have your phone number?"

Now, you've officially died and gone to heaven.

You nod giddily and sweetly whisper a soft, "Yeah."

You take out a notebook and pencil from your bag. You tear off a corner from a blank page and write your phone number.

You hand it over to Eddie and you can practically feel the buzz of electric excitement coming from him.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, just don't forget to bring a pencil this time," you tease as you put you things back in your bag and unbuckle your seatbelt.

"Then what excuse will I have to talk to you," Eddie responds.

You laugh at first until you realize he meant it. He was actually doing that just as an excuse to talk to you.

Holy shit.

"Um, I'm sure you'll come up with something," you nervously laugh. "You seemed to work that Munson magic pretty well today."

It was something you said rather off-handedly, but that sort of is what drew you to Eddie. Some sort of magic he seemed to possess. Someone who was rather unsuspecting from the jump, seemingly with magic had you utterly charmed.

"Munson magic, I like that. Guess you'll just have to find out tomorrow then," Eddie said confidently.

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, "Whichever one you want it to be."

You rolled your eyes and smiled as you opened the car door and slide out of the seat, "Goodnight Eddie."

Eddie smiled at you as you looked at him one last time.

"Goodnight Y/N," he smirked.

You close the door behind you and giddily walk up the driveway to your house, hoping Eddie nor your parents would be able to tell just how giddy you'd felt.

Or how strange this whole day has been. Or how Eddie's Munson magic has you feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst ##stranger things fanfic #stranger things s4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #urfavstargirl1

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baronessblixen · 5 months ago

Note

I wish you would write a fic where mulder falls asleep on skinner’s shoulder

Another ficlet! Gonna tag @today-in-fic this time 😁

“Is your son all right?” Skinner lifts his eyes to the nurse; one he hasn’t seen before. She’s young, her smile genuine, and her eyes curiously big. He’s tired. Not as tired as the man sitting next to him, whose head keeps ending up on his shoulder.

The first few times it happened, Mulder startled awake, his expression haunted, and apologized. Now, his head is on Skinner’s shoulder, his breath as even as it can be. If he weren’t so tired, or if Mulder were awake, maybe he’d correct the nurse. After the day they’ve all had, he has no strength left.

“His wife is- she’s not well.” It’s a white lie. Mulder and Scully may not be married on paper, but they are in every other way that counts. Once upon a time, Skinner felt the sting of jealousy seeing what they have. Now, he’s glad they have each other.

“I’m so sorry,” the nurse says. “Do you want me to go check on her? What’s her name?”

“Dana Scully.” Skinner keeps his voice soft so that he won’t wake Mulder. He should have known better; her name penetrates his sleepy mind and he blinks open his eyes.

“Is she- Dana Scully? Is she out of surgery?”

“I will check on your wife. I’ll be right back.” Her shoes squeak as she walks off. Mulder shakes his head, trying to wake up.

“My wife?” he asks Skinner, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. Skinner is going to keep to himself that the nurse thought Mulder is his son. That’s for himself to deal with. He’s a mere 15 years older than Mulder. Right now, though, he sees it. He looks like a boy. One who’s scared to lose another person he loves, unable to stop it from happening. Again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” He changes the subject, hoping Mulder won’t press.

“No, I- I need to know how Scully is before I… before anything else.” The man needs a meal and sleep, preferably in a bed and not a hospital chair. Even if he threatened Mulder, Skinner knows he won’t leave here.

Before he can say another word, the nurse returns. His heart skips a beat until her face transforms into a big smile.

“Good news,” she says. “Your wife is out of surgery.”

“Is she-”

“She’s stable. She’s going to be just fine.” Mulder folds in on himself hearing the words and Skinner puts a hand on his back. “Is he-”

“He’s fine,” Skinner says, meaning it. “It has been a long day.”

“She’s going to make it,” Mulder mumbles, sounding almost delirious.

“She is,” Skinner assures him. “And I’m sure she wants to see you when she wakes up. How about you go home, take a shower and sleep?” He has to try. He knows that Scully would would want him to at least do that. Mulder just laughs humorlessly.

“You know I won’t.”

“The sit back down,” he says, aware that it sounds like an order. Mulder glares at him. “You’ve been using my shoulder as a pillow. Come on.”

“You sound as crazy as I do, sir.”

“Come on.” Another moment passes, but Mulder sits down. A minute passes and Skinner pretends to read the magazine he got hours ago. Maybe he’ll take that quiz again, the one that promises to tell you why you can’t ever keep a man. A sigh from the right, and then a soft weight on his shoulder. Mulder sleeps and Skinner keeps watch.

#i know these weren't supposed to be prompts #but like i have written two ficlets and that means the WORLD to me #so thank you #xf fanfic

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lostbookmark · 3 months ago

Text

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: A series of quick flashbacks of your early years with Yoongi.

Pairing: Sister's Boyfriend Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Toxic Parent and sister relationship, underage drinking, swearing, light making out, crying.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦ ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You want to pull out your hair as you reread the question in the booklet that you have laid out on your desk. Right turns: When making a right turn onto a two-way street from another two-way street, which lane should you end up in?

“AHHH!” You actually scream and bang your head on the desk in your bedroom. “Ow.”

“What are you doing?” Your sister asks from your doorway.

“Studying for my permit,” you answer her while not bothering to turn around and look at her. You think you gave yourself a bump on the head. You bring your hand up to check and see.

“Why are you stressing out? It's not like it's even that hard and it's multiple choice. Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend.” she tells you.

You turn around in your chair and see a boy standing next to your sister. He's just a bit taller than her, dark hair, pale skin, he's cute. Oh, shit. There’s a cute boy in your room. Your eyes quickly scan your bedroom floor, hoping that you don't have anything embarrassing out…like underwear.

“I'm Yoongi,” he says. You gulp, his voice is deep.

“Y/N,” you say softly and give him a small smile.

“Anyway, let's go. We actually have stuff to do. Calm down, or you will make yourself fail by freaking out.” your sister is such a bitch.

“You should encourage her,” Yoongi said, but she just rolled her eyes and lightly pushed him out of your doorway. You sigh. This is going to be a long night. Your test is tomorrow. You're screwed. She's right. You're going to fail.

Yoongi had stayed for dinner. Your mom was bombarding him with questions the whole time. What were you majoring in? Do you stay in the dorms? Do you have a job? Since your sister started college, your mother seems to think she needs to know every single detail about her life when she is not home, and you guess it includes her boyfriend's life too, apparently. You sneak a peek at Yoongi and smirk. You can tell that he is annoyed. Welcome to the club, dude. You get up from the table with your study booklet and leave for the backyard. No one even says anything to you. They never do. You settle down on a white wicker couch to reread it for the hundredth time. You've been reading it over and over again, but everything is just running together now.

“Are you okay?” A deep voice asked. You physically jumped in shock and might have let out a squeak. “Sorry, sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“It's okay,” you tell Yoongi while fiddling with your booklet, your heart still racing. “What are you doing out here?”

“They started talking about pageant dresses or something,” he sighed and sat next to you on the wicker couch. “You need some help? I can quiz you?”

“Oh, um…I…I don't want to bother you,” you mumble. Yoongi held out his hand, and you gave him the booklet after a moment of hesitation.

“Okay, school buses,” he starts. You wonder why he wants to help you. He doesn't even know you, but you're happy. You're happy your sister found someone who seems like he might be great. He'll be good for her.

You smile, looking at the permit in your hands. You can not believe that you had actually passed. Your sister was actually right. The test wasn't that hard, and you were panicking for nothing. Your best friends Jisoo and Lisa met you at the DMV to take their test as well. Jisoo passed, and Lisa well…she tried her best. You and Jisoo try not to laugh, but Lisa is pissed and it's kind of funny.

“Yeah, that great Y/N,” your mom says half-heartedly. “Have you seen my sewing kit?”

“Mom I did it,” you exclaim, waving your permit in the air as soon as you get back home. Yoongi and your sister were sitting on the couch. He looked at you and gave a bright, gummy smile.

“When can you take me driving?” You ask him.

Your smile falls, and you look back at Yoongi. Something crosses his face, but you're not too sure what it was. As your dad walks through the door, you turn your attention toward him instead.

“Your mom will have to,” he tells you as he walks by. “I don't have time right now. I need to get back to the office.”

“Oh, okay,” you whisper. You still feel Yoongi's eyes still on you. They feel like they are burning straight into your soul. You feel embarrassed. You feel defeated.

“I'll take you,” he says, getting up. “Give me your phone. I'll give you my number, just let me know when you want to start.”

“Really?” You ask him excitedly. You hear your sister scoff. “Thank you.”

“Don't laugh. I hit all the cones, Yoongi. Every single one…I flattened them.” You want to cry, and he's just laughing.

He's laughing at you. His shoulders are shaking, and he’s doubled over laughing in the passenger seat. Your hands grip the steering wheel as you glare at him. This is the second time that he has taken you to practice. Your sister came the first time, but her criticism made you too nervous, and you started to cry before you could actually do anything. Yoongi told her that she couldn't come anymore.

“I'm sorry,” he said, clearing his throat, and he started laughing again. “I'm sorry. Listen, you have to get through learning how to park first before I take you on the road. I will go and pop the cones back up, and you're going to just breathe and calm down. We will go out to eat out after if you can do it this time.”

“Okay,” you say. “Can we get chicken from Chic 'n’ Wings?”

“Sure,” he agrees. You smile and try your luck.

“..... and extra rolls?” He rolls his eyes with a smile and gets out of the car. He fixes the cones, and you take a deep breath. You can do this, you do this for the rolls….and you do.

______________________________________________________________

Math. You hate math, it's boring and your teacher kind of smells like cheese. You're good at math, but you hate it. Numbers never intimidated you like a lot of other kids, you know. Lisa says it makes you a geek. You've seen her test scores. She's just as good as you are, but she lies about it. You wonder why she always lies about her grades. Is she afraid that the popular boys won't like her? Do boys not want to date geeks? Great, you'll never have a boyfriend.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, snapping his finger in front of your face.

“What?” you answer, looking at him.

“Do you need help? I suck at math, but I think we can figure it out,” he tells you, looking over your shoulder at your math book.

He's nice, too nice to you. You don't understand how your sister found someone like him. That's a lie you do. She's beautiful and smart, what boy wouldn't want her? You..you look like a potato. Not just a regular potato but one that has those things growing out of them.

“Yoongi, let’s go, I'm hungry,” your sister whines. “She's 16. You can't baby her.”

“We can wait until she's done,” Yoongi tells her, and she huffs.

“I'm fine, Yoongi.” You tell him with a smile. “Go ahead. If I don't finish, I can always copy off Wonwoo.” He stares at you for a second before getting up. You turn and look at them. “Where are you going? Can you bring me back something?”

“NO! My boyfriend isn't going to pay for you,” your sister snaps.

“I have money,” you tell her. “I can use my birthday money.”

“No,” she says and walks to the door.

“Go to the car. It's unlocked. I forgot my wallet upstairs,” Yoongi tells her. Once she's out the door, he turns to you. “What do you want?” You beam at him.

“Anything that can fit in your coat pocket,” you whisper conspire with him. He pursed his lips in thought and gave you a nod. He walks out, and you turn back to your homework. Yeah, copying Wonwoo sounds like a better option.

A few hours later, Yoongi snuck into your room and handed you mozzerella sticks and a slider. He wouldn't take your money.

______________________________________________________________

The light in your closet isn't the best for drawing, but it's better than your mom coming in and seeing you do it. She hates it, and you never understood why. She says that you need to spend more time studying, going outdoors, and being with friends. She tells you how art is just a dream and that it won't actually get you anywhere. You laugh to yourself, your grades are near perfect, and your friends…Lisa is always grounded, and Jisoo is so sheltered. She can barely go anywhere without her parents. Your closet is quiet. It's just you and Marilyn in here. You can't get her left eye right. This is pathetic. You're spending your 17th birthday in a closet…talking to your drawing.

“Y/N?” You hear Yoongi call out for you.

“I'm here,” you answer back, not bothering to leave your sanctuary.

“Where are you?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Closet,” you answer back. You're going to wear a hole in the paper if you keep erasing. The closet door opens, and Yoongi gives you a bright smile. “Hi,” you say and look back at Marilyn.

“You draw? I didn't know that,” he said and knelt down to you sitting on his knees. “It's really good.”

“Don't tell anyone. Please?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you in contemplation.

“I won't,” he promises and digs into a bag he brought in with him. In his hand, he produces a cupcake with blue and pink icing. He places a yellow striped candle in the middle and proceeds to light it. “Make a wish,” he holds it for you in front of your face.

You close your eyes and wonder what to wish for. To get better in art, to finally get a boyfriend, maybe one like Yoongi. Maybe you should wish for your parents' love and attention. Taking a breath, you blow out your candle…you don't wish for anything.

“Happy birthday,” Yoongi whispers and kisses your cheek.

Shit! There’s butterflies in your stomach, and you try not to blush. You can't like him. He is not yours to like.

______________________________________________________________

“What are you all dressed up for?” Your sister asks you. Your turn to look at her. Yoongi is beside her like always, except he looks at you like….. you're not sure, but it feels different.

You thrifted your dress. Not really, Lisa let you borrow it. You told your mom about getting a date for homecoming. She said she would take you dress shopping and out to lunch…she must have forgotten. The dress is a light pink and might be a little tight….okay it's very tight, but it looks fine…in fact, your boobs look amazing. You just might not be able to breathe all night. Lisa told you just to take shallow breaths, and you'll be fine. You shouldn't pass out. You trust her. She wears tight clothes all the time. You're happy your parents weren't home tonight. Your dads company dinner was supposedly more important. There was no way your mom would let you out in this dress if she saw it. You know she wouldn't deem it as ladylike.

You head downstairs to wait for your date. You couldn't believe Wooseok had asked you. You blushed and stuttered through your acceptance, embarrassing yourself. You think he only asked because Lisa is going with his friend Kino. It's fine because you're going to have fun even if it's a pity date.

“Homecoming,” you answer her. “I'm waiting for my date.”

“Date?” she questions. “Did you pay him?” She chuckles at her own joke.

“Don't say that,” Yoongi told her. He looked mad. “Anyone would be lucky to go with her. You look beautiful. “

“Don't lie to her,” your sister says, rolling her eyes. You think one day they might get stuck back there.

The ringing of the doorbell breaks the tension in the room. Yoongi looks at you and smirks. He bolts to the door. You try to cut him off but stumble in the damn heels that you're wearing. He laughs, dodging your reach, and opens the door with a glare on his face.

“Can I help you?” he tried his best to sound bored.

“Uhhh, is Y/N here?” Wooseok asks. You try to shove Yoongi out of the way, but he holds onto the door jamb.

“Yoongi, move,” you demand.

“What time is the dance over?” Yoongi asks Wooseok.

“Ummm….11 I think,” Wooseok answers.

“Okay, have her home by 9:30,” Yoongi tells him, and you hit his arm. You finally manage to move him.

“Don't listen to him. Let's go,” you say and look back at Yoongi when you get outside. You want to flip him off. You almost do it, but you don't.

“Who was that?” Wooseok asks as he opens the car door for you.

“That’s just Yoongi.”

Woosoek shoves his tongue in your mouth. His hands are pawing at you in that tight ass dress. Is this what kissing is supposed to be like, so much…..spit? You're not gonna lie. It's kind of gross. Lisa and Kino are right next to you behind the equipment shed on the football field in a similar position. You go along with it, not wanting to ruin the little party you were invited to. Wooseok pulls back and reaches into his jacket. He pulls out a slim bottle with dark liquid. You've never drank before.

“Whiskey,” he tells you and kisses you again. He moves to attach his lips to your neck and sucks pretty hard…it kind of hurts.

Kino pulls away from Lisa and takes the bottle from him. Taking the first drink, he hands it to Lisa. She looks at you but doesn't hesitate and takes a drink as well. She coughs and rubs her chest. They guys laugh at her, and she joins in the laughter with them. Wooseok goes next, then you.

“It's okay, sweets,” Lisa whispers. “It wasn't that bad.”

Taking a drink of the dark liquid was awful, and it burned. You start coughing, and Wooseok claps your back. It was... it was that bad. Kino takes the bottle from you, and it gets passed around again and again. Wooseok kisses you again, way, way more spit this time. You wish Jisoo were here. She wouldn't have let this happen. You don't feel so good.

“Fuck, sweets. What do we do?” Lisa slurs at you. Your dates are passed out.

“I'll call Yoongi,” you tell her. Your vision can barely focus on your phone screen. “He'll get us.”

“Noooooo, he haaaattteeesss meeeee,” she whines. You don't listen and make the call.

“Y/N?” Yoongi answers the phone.

“Yoongi, don't be mad.”you try to plead with him.

“Heeee haaaatttteeeesssss meeee,” Lisa wails in the background, and you start crying.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks.

“We’ve been drinking,” you cry. “I don't feel good.”

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks. “Where are you?”

It didn't take him that long to find you. You can hear bickering, and your heart stops. He brought your sister with him. Their argument is getting louder the closer they approach. Lisa passed out not long ago, your stomach is turning, dates still snoring.

“Grab Lisa,” Yoongi tells your sister.

“Why can't you grab Lisa?” she hisses at him.

“Can you just not fight me for once,” he hissed back.

Your body gets picked up off the ground. You moan, and your stomach flips. Yoongi pulls you closer to him as you rest your head against him and walks quickly as he can to the car. He doesn't say anything. He just carries you. He places you in the back seat and rolls the window down for you.

“I have to go and help with Lisa. If you throw up…aim for the window,” Yoongi tells you and surries off to help your sister. You can hear her bitching at him again. A cool breeze comes through the opened window, you breathe it in, You're causing problems and you hate yourself for it.

The sunlight streaming through your windows hurts your head. You spent most of the night on the floor in your bathroom. The cool tiles felt good against your pounding head. You hear the garage door open. Your parents must have left for the farmers market, which means it's still early. You drag yourself out of bed and head downstairs. You hope maybe some water will help.

“Still alive?” You jump in shock and gasp. Fuck, you hand goes to your head, it really freaking hurts. “Do you know how worried I was when I heard you crying?” Yoongi asked.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “My sister is mad at you for helping…”

“No, don't worry about that,” he cuts you off and walks up to you. He grabs your head gently and turns it ever so slightly to the side and hums.

“What?” you ask. He brings up his phone camera, and you look. “Oh.” A huge ugly purplish mark on the skin of your neck.

“Did it go any further than that?” he asks, and you shake your head no. “Go back to sleep.” he tells you and walks off.

You think he's disappointed in you, and that hurts.

______________________________________________________________

It's finally into your senior year. You turned 18 not too long ago. When you walked into your room, you saw a single cupcake with a candle stuck in the middle. A note, with a match sitting by it on your bed. Picking up the note, you smile to yourself.

Make a wish, MYG.

Yoongi didn't forget. It's been so long since you have seen him or your sister. He moved out of the dorms at college last winter and into his own apartment. Your sister pretty much pretty much lives with him. They don’t come home that often, but you don't blame them. This place sucks. But he didn't forget.

Your mom, who had been a stay at home mom for as long as you can remember, decided to go back to work. She said she found it hard to stay home in such an empty house. Thanks! She must have forgotten that you still lived there. She, of course, had been too busy to do anything for you. Jisoo's family had made you a birthday dinner that night. You were happy to have friends who actually had caring parents. This birthday, however, you did make a wish as you blew out your candle. You wished to get the hell out of here.

______________________________________________________________

Christmas break flew by, and you go back to school tomorrow. You are screwed, you have become very lazy this year and you didn't finish your science homework. Strike that, you didn't even start and it's already 10:30 at night. You walk quietly to your sister's room, where she and Yoongi are staying. They were just there for the weekend. You listen for a second before you slowly open the door. Your sister was sound asleep, and Yoongi was typing away at his phone. The bright light illuminated his face.

“Psss,” you say quietly. Yoongi's eyes fly to you, then to your sister's sleeping form. You wave him over to you.

“Don't you have school tomorrow? You should be sleeping,” he lightly scolds you.

“I need help on a science project. I need a diorama of the solar system,” you explain.

“How much have you done?” He crosses his arms, waiting for you to answer.

“None,” you answer, and his eyes narrow.

“When's it due?” he's suspicious.

“Tomorrow,” you say quietly, and his eyes widen. “Please, please, please.” He sighs in defeat.

“I can't get this fucking sun to stay up,” his growls and his eyes look to you. “Sorry, don't swear, it's not a good habit.”

“I have a hot glue gun,” you tell him.

“I don't think that will work,” he says. “ I think it might be too heavy.”

You two have been working on this for hours now. You look at your alarm clock and see it's well past midnight. You hadn't been completely unprepared, you had all the supplies. You just needed help with painting the foam balls….and attaching the strings to rods….attaching the actual rods. Shit, you're screwed.

“What's going on?” Your mom asks as she opens the door. “Why are you in her room?”

“She needed help,” Yoongi told her, going back to fiddle with the rod holding sun.

“Y/N, I told you to do that a week ago. You are so irresponsible. How the hell are you going to get through college and all the work that comes with that? Did you even apply yet?” She is mad.

“Yoongi, come back to bed,” your sister says, tiredly walking into the room.

“We are almost done,” he told them.

“Go, Yoongi,” your mom demands. “If she fails….she can fail alone.”

“THAT'S NOT FAIR,” he yells, he never yells. Your sister walks in and grabs his arm. He tries to pull out of her grasp, but she doesn't let him. She pulls him out of the room. He looks at you. It seems like he wants to say something, but the door shuts in his face.

“You need to stay away from him. Your sister needs his attention, not you. Tomorrow after school, we will fill out applications. You'll go for accounting ... .you don't have a choice anymore.” With that, your mom left your room, and you cried yourself to sleep to the sounds of Yoongi and your sister arguing.

The damn sun still won't stay up. You lug the diorama into your science class by yourself. You are just happy that the rest of it is still standing.

“Your sun fell,” Lisa points out the obvious while smacking her gum.

“Yoongi, couldn't get it to stay up,” you tell her, and she bursts out laughing at the insinuation, but you don't find it funny at all.

“Sorry, ummm, let me think,” she takes a look around and blows a bubble. “Oh, try this.” She shoves a piece of gum in your mouth. You chew it as fast as you can as she grabs Chan and does the same to him. “Chew, Chan, Chew!” Poor Chan, he looked scared of her but did as he was told.

The three of you chew away and she holds out her hand. She spits her gum into it and motions for the two of you to do the same…gross….but you do it. She pieces the used gum together and molds it around the rod to stick it to the side of your cardboard. It sticks….kind of. You hope your teacher will get to you quickly. He eventually does, you get B….it's a good day.

______________________________________________________________

You had listened to your mom and just stopped hanging around the house if Yoongi or your sister were there. Lisa's house became your new sanctuary. Her parents were awesome and loved you.

“Did you see Jackson slip and fall at assembly today,” Lisa laughed as you guys walked around the park after dinner.

“It's not funny,” you laugh. “He's sweet.”

“Y/N,” you heard a voice shout your name. A deep voice, you knew who it belonged to.

You look around and spot Yoongi at the basketball courts with a group of guys. You don't see your sister anywhere. Lisa nudges you forward to continue to walk, and unfortunately, you have to walk by him to get out of the park. You quickly wave as you pass by, but that was it.

“Wait,” he called out and chased after you. “Where have you been?”

“She’s just doing what she was told,” Lisa answers .

“What does that mean?” he asks, looking right at you.

“I was told to leave you alone,” you tell him. You watch him crack his neck and then look back at his friends. They start calling him to come back.

“Come hang out,” he said. “We could use a little cheering.”

“Are they cute?” Lisa asks, Yoongi ignores her and continues to look at you.

“Come on,” he said and grabbed your hand. He threaded his fingers through yours and guided you to sit on the metal bleachers overlooking the court. He tosses the ball back to his friends before turning back to you. “Cheer for me?” he asks.

“Fine,” you grumble and he runs back onto the court. Lisa nudges you several times.

You do cheer for him. You have never seen him play before, and damn he was good. He looked so free, so happy out there playing. You're not sure if you have ever seen him like this. Lisa was too busy flirting with the other players to really pay attention. You almost feel embarrassed to be by her right then. You wish you had her confidence, though. Yoongi heads to the benches after a little while to get some water.

“Lisa and I need to get back,” you tell him. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Wait,” he said, stopping you from turning around. “Who told you to stay away from me?” You don't answer.

“Her mom,” Lisa answered. “We really have to go.”

Lisa grabs your hand, and the two of you run to her car. You turn back and see Yoongi still standing there playing with his water bottle, still watching you. You really miss him.

______________________________________________________________

“Should I wear my red dress or black dress for my date with Mark tomorrow?” Lisa asks as you two chat away on the phone.

You lie on your bed. The end of winter was here, and the spring air moving in was nice and cool, so you had your bedroom window cracked open. The cool breeze felt good in your stuffy room. The curtains were gently moving and you huddled down in your blankets.

“Black,” you tell her noncommittally. “You will look fine, no matter….” Voices in the back yard cut you off. It was more than just voices. Your sister was yelling. “Lisa, I have to go.”

You hung up the phone before she could say anything. Dropping onto the floor, you crawled to your window and slowly peeked out. Yoongi and your sister were back by the swing set. They were definitely having some sort of argument.

“Just tell me, Yoongi,” she yells. He crosses his arms and just stares at her. “You have feelings for her, don't you? Have you been with her?”

“Stop,” he tells her.

“See, you can't even deny it. I can't believe you. Rose said she saw you at the courts with her. Tell me I'm wrong,” she snaps at him. Holy, shit you thought. Who the hell showed up after you left? Yoongi just crosses his arms and stares at her. He doesn't say anything at all. “I don't believe you,” she growls and storms off into the house.

Who the hell were they talking about? You honestly didn't think Yooongi was the type to cheat. Why would your sister even think that? You watch as Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and suddenly looks at your window. You drop down and quickly army crawl back to your bed. Something is changing, and you can feel it.

______________________________________________________________

You sit in the bay window by the front door. Eyes scanning the street, keeping a lookout for the mailman. You applied to an art school months ago and now await what you hope is an acceptance letter. You have to get to it before your parents. You know there was actually no chance of you going. You just wanted the validation that you could possibly get in.

“What's up?” Yoongi says, looking out the window with you as he peeks over your shoulder. “What are we looking for?”

“I'm waiting for the mail,” you explain. “You told me I should think about applying, and I did.”

“Seriously,” he smiles at you. He moves some hair out of his face. It's getting longer. “Let me know when you get it. I want to be there when you get in.” You turn and hug him. His arms immediately wrap themselves around you as well. This hug seems a little tighter than normal, lingers just a little longer. You're not sure, but you think you feel his lips brush your shoulder. No, you must have imagined it.

It came a few days later. You texted him but you knew he was busy with school and his job. He probably wouldn't show up and you couldn't blame him for that. You were going to give him 20 minutes before you open it. You climbed the ladder up to your old tree house, large envelope in hand. You take that as a good sign. Why would a denial come in such a big envelope?

“I'm here, I'm here,” he says as he struggles climbing in. You can't help but snicker at him. “Shut up.” You open the flap carefully, slowly not wanting to face the fact you could have failed at this.

“I don't think I can do this?” You whisper and look at him with glassy eyes.

“You can,” he tells you softly. “You got in…I know it.”

“Oh,” you say as you scan the paper you finally pulled out.

“You did it!” Yoongi exclaims. “I'm so proud of you. You got in! You're going to get out of here….have the life you deserve.”

You're laughing, bouncing a little bit, and crying a lot. You reread it just to make sure and start to cry harder. You hold the acceptance letter close to your chest. You got in! Not only did you get in, but you got a partial scholarship. Maybe, just maybe you can do this. Yoongi pulls you close and wipes your tears on his shirt. Bringing up his phone, you lean all the way into him, his arm going around you as he snaps the picture. You smile.

______________________________________________________________

“What are you doing?” You ask her. Your backpack slides off your shoulder and down to the floor.

Coming home from school is a time you dread. Your mom won't let you stay at Lisa's full time even though her parents wouldn't have minded. Yoongi and your sister were at home today. Come to think about it, she's been home a lot more. You wonder if they are fighting again. You send him a very small wave as you make your way to your room. Your door that you always keep shut is open. You see your mom going through your drawings.

“Art school?” she asks while snatching your acceptance letter off your desk. “Do you think I'm going to pay for this? Imagine my surprise when I tried to help you clean your room and find this.”

“You were snooping,” you tell her. “I didn't have that out.”

You watch as your mom picks up your drawings off your bed. She had been in your closet. She had found your secret stash of drawings. You had hidden them on your shelf, under clothes. She's holding Marilyn up and looks at her with a sour look on her face.

“This is what you're wasting time on?” she asks.

“I'm not wasting my time,’” you shout. “You had no right to go through my things like that!” You hear footsteps come up the stairs.

“It's my house, it's my things,” your mom places both hands on top of Marilyn and tears her apart. Her eye, her left eye that took you months to perfect….gone.

You want to scream, but nothing comes out. You collapse onto your knees as they give in and bring your hands to your chest. A sob finally escapes you as your mom tears into your other pieces. You're hysterical. You can't stop. She finally took away the last thing that made you happy. The only thing that helped you get through the day living at the house.

“I can't stop you from going to that school. Just know that if you do, you can fend for yourself and live on the street if you have to. Dreams don't get you anywhere, Y/N.” With that, your mom walked out of the room.

Gentle hands came down on your shoulders. You crawl away , grab your drawings, and hold the ruined pieces close to you. Your shoulders shake as your body fully collapses on the floor. The remnants of your happiness soaking up your tears.

“Y/N,” Yoongi says quietly. You say nothing. You don't react to his voice. Yoongi leans over you and scoops you up. He places you on your bed as he sits beside you, stroking your hair. “I don't think I can fix this one.” More silent tears fall, and they keep falling. You don't even realize that you ended up falling asleep. You fell asleep with Yoongi stroking your hair as his deep voice hummed an unknown song. Not realizing that would be the last time you would see him for the next four years. Not until your 22nd birthday where everything will change.

Tagged Readers: @marimarvelfan, @unicornbabylover,@minghaosimp, @iheartsvt, @seoullove96, @babyitscoldoutside

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bangchansgirlsblog · 9 months ago

Note

i’ve been craving this for ages and finally decided to request upon it!!

stray kids x little sister reader (she’s about 17/18) she has been having a secret relationship with one of her school teachers called Mr. Kang (name inspo from song kang) and she has a “sleepover” arranged with her friend for a week.. on day 3 the boys went for a group walk and saw y/ns friend with her family but without y/n. The boys go over and find out that you were never staying with her.. They check your location after panicking only to realise it’s your teacher Mr. Kang’s house. They log into your computer and find all the messages between Kang and you. They are infuriated, when you return back.. let’s just say it’s hell reincarnated.

Thank you daddy- I mean Mr.Kang.

Part one.

"We can't keep doing this.." she whispered through her heavy breathes. Her skirt was slowly riding up her thigh as her pink laced panties were slowly being exposed.

Her face was red due to the heat from the make out session she was just in. Her shirt now unbuttoned halfway exposing her bra.

"What do you mean baby," he whispered in her ear as his hands slowly wondered around her body. "Jump for me princess,"

She wasn't thinking at all. The thought of being pleasured by him was all she could think about. Her legs wrapped around his torso as he slowly put her on top of the desk, knocking down books and papers to the floor.

"My brothers are gonna find out about us soon Mr.Kang. They'll kill me-"

"Shhh, we'll worry about that later bunny," he hushed her while slowly unzipping her skirt.

"Mr.Kang just- uhm," a moan escaped her mouth as his lips made contact with her sensitive skin. She was a mess. Her hair was everywhere and the hickeys that she received from a few hours ago were on display.

She felt good. She loved him. She loved being with him. She loved every moment with him but it was so wrong. Their relationship was so wrong. It had been 3 months. They had been going for 3 months and she still wasn't caught. It was baffling.

Their relationship only began during summer. She had no idea that he would end up being her teacher. They had met at one of the concerts the boys were doing. He had come with his friends and he really didn't want to go but his friends had convinced him too and when he set his eyes on her, he couldn't look away. She was beautiful and he knew he wanted her.

"Do you feel-" his deep voice was interrupted by a loud knocking. Y/n's eyes widen as she jumped off the desk and started to fix herself.

"Who is it?" He called as he too tried to fix himself.

"Mr.Kang? It's Chan. Y/n's brother," a familiar voice replied. He looked over at her small body and saw she had managed to get herself together quite quickly and started to collect her books.

"Come in!"

The door opened and a happy looking Chan walked in. His face was glowing and his hair was covered with a beanie meaning he had just come from the studio.

He quickly said a quick hello before helping Y/n grab her bag. "I hope you guys had a good study session. Thank you so much for watching her Sir," he thanks the older man.

"Oh, you don't need to thank me. She was an Angel and I hope, with all the studying we've done, she'll pass the next quiz," he had a smirk on his face. A smirk Y/n hated. He knew what he was doing.

"Well, I'll make sure to make her study more. Other than that. Have a good weekend," Chan gave him one last smile before waving goodbye and leaving the room with Y/n right behind her.

"Why do you look so red?" Chan asked when they got into the car. He had been watching and analyzing her for the past 5 minutes. "Do you not feel well?" He asked.

"No Channie, it was just really hot in there and I've been studying for hours," she sighed and played with her skirt.

"Oh, makes sense. Do you wanna eat something? We can stop for some hotpot-"

"No actually, I'm really tired Oppa. Maybe later in the evening?"

"Yeah that sounds fine, we can go with the boys," he replied and got his phone out of his pocket to text the family group chat.

They had a family group chat because once when they were traveling for one of their tours, I.N and Han thought it would be a good idea to disappear from the group which led them to missing their flight and Chan was so mad he made sure to make a group chat for whenever they had to split up.

Y/n looked out the window. The past few hours running through her mind. The thoughts making her feel wet under there as she thought about the way Mr.Kang would touch her, make her feel good, make her feel like-

One message:

Come over to mines tomorrow. Sleepover😘

The butterflies in her stomach started to dance once again. Her tummy doing somersaults making her feel all giddy and excited.

"Oppa? Can I go to Franchesca's tomorrow for a sleepover?" She looked over at her brother.

"Again? You've been going over there so much! We barley get time with you," he pouted earning a chuckle from Y/n.

"It's just for one night, I'll be back in the morning and we can hangout. All of us,"

He didn't look convinced but yet again, who was he to say no? This was his little sister. Their only girl in the family.

"Fine but make sure to tell Leeknow. You know how he gets," he shrugged and turned back his phone.

"Okay okay! Thank you, thank you," she giggled and jumped on him while kissing him all over his face.

"Okay okay, enough," he playfully rolled his eyes and raffled her hair.

Her night consisted of watching the boys do practice and have a big fat nap on the couch as they figured out the music part of it all. This was a routine most of the times after school. One of the boys would pick her up and then she would come over to the JYP building and watch the boys practice or record they even made her her own little corner in the 3 racha studio where she could do her homework and decorate it is much as she wanted to.

They really did love their little sister.

"Okay shall we go?" Han asked her since he was the last one closing up the studio. All the other boys were already down stairs waiting for them.

She grabbed her sweater and nodded, "yeah let's go jisung, I'm hungry," she groaned and carried her bag on one shoulder.

He chuckled and locked the doors and quickly made their way downstairs.

When they arrived at the restaurant and started to eat. Chan brought up the sleepover which leeknow was not so happy about.

"I don't, I just don't like them. I don't like their lifestyle and you've been over there too much jagi," he explained as he picked up the chopsticks.

"Please leeknow, she literally comes over all the time,"

"Yeah I know but I don't have a good feeling about this weekend, my older brother instincts are tingling," he looked over at the other boys trying to get some support.

"She'll be gone for one night Hyung, just let her go," Changbin backs her up. He thought about it for a bit before finally agreeing but only on one condition.

"You have to call me when you get there and I have to speak to her parents,"

Busted.

She giggled nervously before nodding, "Ofcourse min, I will. I promise," she played with her ring. A thing she only does when she's nervous and from the corner of Hyunjin's eyes, he noticed instantly and he knew for a fact something fishy was going on.

"So this sleepover...is it just the two of you?" Hyunjin asked while taking a sip from his cocktail.

"Yeah it will be, we're thinking of watching a movie-"

"What movie?" He cut her off quickly. "And what time will you leave tomorrow?"

"Hyung, chill. What's going on?" Han laughed and shoved him a little.

"Nothing...just curious," he shrugged and lifted one eyebrow. The restaurant was a bit empty and the service was good so when the waitress interrupted their conversation by giving them their bill she was so thankful because the conversation was no forgotten about.

"I just know it Changbin, I know she's lying about something," Hyunjin was pacing back and forth in the living room. Half the house was asleep and most of the boys were in their rooms.

Hyunjin and Changbin had decided to stay up and watch a movie. Leaving them alone in the living room.

"Why do you think she would lie about a sleepover Jinnie? I mean surely she wouldn't lie to us about that,"

"But Changbin, you know how suspicious she's been acting. Always over at Franchesca's. Staying for after school activities. Always coming home late. Changbin it's obvious she's doing something behind our backs,"

"Have you talked of Chan about it?" He asked while slowly taking a sip out of his mug.

"No, I just thought about it while we were at dinner. I need solid proof because if I tell Chan, he'll go absolutely crazy,"

"You're right, maybe we can check her phone while she's sleeping or something," Changbin suggested.

"Do you know her password?"

"No but she keeps it in her journal and I know where that is-"

"Her journal! Changbin that's it! We need to read her journal. Maybe she put down what she's doing in there," he whisper-shouted.

"Are you crazy?!" He whispered back, "that's like intruding her privacy Hyunjin! What if we don't find anything at all then it'll be a waste and she'll be mad,"

"I know I'm not wrong Binnie! I can feel it,"

"I hope you're right because if she finds out, we'll be the worst brothers of the century," he sighed and massaged his temples.

"Make sure to call if you need anything, okay?" Leeknow gave her assurance as he kissed her goodbye.

"And don't eat anything your not used too or don't know about!" Chan added and gave her a hug.

"I won't Oppa," she giggled and waved goodbye as she made her way to the car where the driver awaited her.

Once they saw the car drive away everyone disappeared doing their own thing while Hyunjin and Chan where on a mission. A big mission.

They went straight to her room and started looking for a journal.

"This feels so wrong," Changbin said as he opened and closed drawers.

"I know Hyung but we have too," he replied quickly and looked through her closet. It was long until they found out and it actually made Hyunjin laugh at the fact that their little sister sucked when it came to hiding her stuff from them.

"I found it!" He yelped and pulled out the book. It was old and quite beaten up but that didn't matter at all. Hyunjin made sure to remind himself to buy her a new one later.

"Okay! What does it say? What does it say?!" Changbin shrieked excitedly.

They sat on her bed and started to go through the book. Page by page by page. It was hours and hours reading boring things about highschool and boys and drama.

Hyunjin was about to run mad but Changbin was eating all the drama up. He was actually impressed at how interesting their little sisters life was.

"We're never going to find anything!" Hyunjin groaned when he looked at the time.

"I mean we can skip the parts? When did she start acting suspicious?"

"I'll say like 2-3 months ago, I don't know! What do you think?"

"I think it started during summer," Changbin commented.

"Then let's go look from there," Hyunjin started to skip the pages until finally.

September 27th 2023.

“….and we’re going to be making cookies. I just really hope everything goes well and my brothers don’t find out about this. Wish me luck!” Hyunjin slammed the book shut after finishing the last sentence.

He looked up at the boys who were listening to everything. His blood was boiling as he looked over at Changbin who was equally as angry.

They were shocked and traumatized.

What the hell was Y/n thinking?

#skz imagines #skz comfort #skz x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz drabbles #skz stay #stray kids drabbles #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #straykids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #bangchansgfblog

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rinkkuma · 1 year ago

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୨୧ SUPER SHY

ft. sae itoshi

tags. highschool au, a bit of cussing, gn!reader, the word ‘pretty’ is used but i still believe they're gn, all fluff ! / author's note. based on the song, super shy by newjeans!! another no skip album from the newjeans girlies!!! :3 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. proofread, but i'm dumb and notice errors a month after i post something so </3 is he ooc? probably, but i love him so it doesn't matter

“do you even think he even knows my name?” you pout as ask your long time best friend, mai, if she thinks sae itoshi, someone you've developed a tiny crush on, at least knows your name.

you've sat in front of him since the beginning of the school year in your math class, but never mustering up enough courage to talk to him. (you personally think you've “talked” to him when he asked you for a pencil, but mai thinks otherwise, “it only counts when you actually have a full on conversation with him.” she tells you.)

“hmm, typically i'd say yes because of how long we've been in school, but you haven't even talked to him. ever. so, no.” mai smirks, she's sure he knows your name because of attendance being taken verbally daily, but decides to tease you so you finally decide to talk to him.

“you know for a best friend, you're really great at reassuring me.” you sarcastically say as your dramatically lean back into your chair.

mai was actually great at comforting and reassuring people, but at this moment in time, she seems very annoyed that you haven't made any moves on sae and seems to be pushing you to more and more to everyday.

mai laughs before confidently saying, “i know!” with a flip to her hair.

you have no idea if you're dreaming or not.

did you really just get paired up with the sae itoshi for the upcoming partner quiz?

did the gods finally answer your prayers every time there was a partner quiz to get paired up with him?

honestly, you could care less the reason. but you swear this is a dream and your heart started racing so fucking fast the moment your teacher said your's and sae's name in one sentence.

you swear you're about to pass out when sae gives you a small nod as he moves to the seat next to you so it's easier for the two of you to work together. wait—did he just give you a small smile too?

fuck him for being so pretty and smelling so good. it is so hard to concentrate on your review for the quiz while sitting next to him. you hope he doesn't see your side glances every few seconds and how your face is ever so slightly burning up.

“hey, you okay? you've barely done any problems..” sae suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence as he looks at your paper.

“yeah!” you nearly jump at his words and immediately sit up, composing yourself as best as you can before turning your attention to your practically blank paper.

sae chuckles before placing his paper on your desk for you to copy his work. who knew the genius (on the field and academically) would let someone copy his work?

“you're a mess,” he laughs, how dare he laugh at you and how dare he point out how flustered you were. “but you're cute, y/n.”

you swear you stop functioning.

sae has been on your mind all the time after getting paired up with him. he even starts talking to you in class even after he's not required to. he's a little bolder than he gives off to be. maybe you're being delusional, but is he ever so slightly flirting with you?

but, nonetheless sae is actually a sweetheart and even starts hangs out with you at lunch, (and buys you lunch if you ever forget yours!) and walks you home from school.

“hey.” sae muttered as he plopped down next to you at the lunch table.

“hi.” you say, as you swallow a bite of your food. the food was actually his from home, but he insisted on giving you his and it would be fine and that he could just buy something from the cafeteria.

coincidentally, the cafeteria was selling something you didn't particularly enjoy, so you were grateful sae gave you his. but, still denying it at first about how you didn't want to take his because of how frequently he buys you lunch.

weird, you swear you're luck has increased like crazy ever since you started hanging out with sae, getting higher scores on tests, (he's been studying with you when you're having trouble on a unit) and getting things you've been talking about wanting for a while out of the blue. (he's the person you've been ranting about wanting these things and he secretly places them in your locker the next day)

hey, maybe he was a lucky charm. and he was stupidity handsome too. and he had the sweetest personality ever, and—

you feel that you only fall for him more everyday. you were so fucking shy around him at first, but now you feel comfortable around him, hell even at the level of comfortable-ness you feel with mai.

sae itoshi was odd, but he was special.

it's been a while since you became friends with sae. summer was nearing and your relationship friendship is at an all time high.

one day though, sae asks you to meet up with him at a nearby park; a park that you enjoyed visiting while on walks, the flowers still somehow just as beautiful as when they first bloomed even as the heat reels in.

you throw on a cute outfit before heading out to meet sae. it wasn't strange that sae brought you to breathtakingly beautiful spots, but this one felt particularly special.

“hey.” sae greets in his stupidity smooth voice. he looks as handsome as ever, except his hair a little different which makes him look all the more handsome.

he's sitting on a bench under a flower tree that has lost a majority of its petals, somehow it still looks beautiful.

“hi.” you wave and smile before taking a seat next to him under the tree.

“so, why'd you bring me here today?” you know why, simply just sitting and talking was sae's favorite way to spend time with you, but something inside you urges you to ask.

“just the normal, i guess.” he shrugs, before ushering you to start talking about whatever was on your mind.

whenever it was gossip, something that has been bothering you, or a new show you started watching, sae loved listening to you talk. he looked at you with the most intense expression ever while you blabbed on about whatever, carefully listening to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth.

he isn't even listening anymore. something about you today that just.. makes him stop listening. you looked so fucking pretty today. don't get the wrong idea—he thought you looked pretty everyday, but something about you today that pushes him to finally say the words he's been dying to tell you for a while now.

“earth to sae—hey! are you even listening?” you call out to him, your voice snapping him out of the trance.

how long was he not responding to you? oh god, it seems like a quite a bit since you were touching his shoulder.

oh. you were touching his shoulder.

sae takes a deep breath before calming himself and averting his gaze back to you.

“be mine, idiot.” sae blurts. okay, he didn't mean to say idiot, but he knows you don't take it seriously, so he stares at you with his stupid pretty eyes, waiting for your response.

you are suddenly taken back to the emotions you felt when you first finally talked to sae—a flustered mess, shy as hell.

if anyone passed by they would've guessed you two were having a staring contest because of how long you were staring at each other in silence, either of you not seeming to blink.

you two stay in silence before you finally talk after what seemed like a century.

“what?” is all you manage to breathe out. not an ideal response, but hey, you need to absolutely be 100% you heard him right.

sae huffs before speaking again.

“you heard me. be mine. i'm tired of you not being mine.”

you feel so warm inside and you swear you're gonna pass out.

before you can say anything, sae gently pulls you close to him and kisses you. and holy shit, his lips are so so soft.

you can't help but melt into his kiss and touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer.

he pulls away smirking.

“guess that's a yes?” he knows the affect he has on you and you hate it.

“no.” you jokingly roll your eyes, knowing sae knows you don't mean it at all. your shyness—whenever it had been around him or someone else, sae had always thought it was so cute.

“you wish.” he chuckles, before pulling you into his chest.

your shyness wouldn't drive sae away. never in a million years.

#blue lock x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock #blue lock fluff #im extremely normal about him…

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weirdsht · 3 months ago

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Disillusioned 11 . Nothing More, Nothing Less (4)

a/n: double update this week because i got a perfect score on my all-or-nothing oral quiz last night hehe. also, this was supposed to be 2 installments only but I keep making things longer than when I first storyboarded lol

tags: feelings in progress, trying to break out from an abusive mentality, crying, fluff, remember that healing is not instant and takes time

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Everyone dispersed to do their own thing when they got back home. Of course, they did this after they made sure that _____ was inside their room and properly resting.

The healer complied with everyone’s wishes, how could they not when Choi Han was practically guarding the door? However, they were starting to feel restless and bored. Back at their old home, they were never told to rest for this long.

It was the opposite actually.

Everyone back there wanted them to get back in action as soon as possible. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel, _____ is expected to get back to work after 5 hours max.

Knock

“Cale-nim asked if you feel well enough to join him for dinner.”

Good thing Choi Han gave _____ an agenda before they die of restlessness.

“Please tell the young master I’ll join him.”

The swordmaster inspected the healer first before nodding. Looks like _____ passed Choi Han’s detector and is deemed well enough to have dinner in Cale’s room.

It was an invitation for dinner but the Medicus knows that its real purpose is so that Cale can have a serious chat with them.

_____ already knows their fault.

In Cale and everyone else’s eyes, they acted recklessly. It’s _____’s mistake that they didn’t inform Cale that could handle that much. Then in turn because of that miscommunication, some things were hindered and they lost manpower for a short while.

To put it another way, _____ hindered everyone’s work.

For that, they were sorry. They didn’t mean to be deadweight that had to be carried around.

_____ told themself that they’ll tell Cale they won’t repeat the same mistake when they have dinner.

…things didn’t go as planned.

When the healer tried to explain that they certainly could handle more than what they did in the Whipper Kingdom Cale only sighed. Then when they tried to say sorry Cale frowned.

That’s never a good sign.

But _____ can’t think of what else they did wrong.

It didn’t help that the children averaging 8 years old also have the same expression.

“You know that I’m trash right?”

“Huh? Uhm yes, I do.”

_____ knew the rumours that labelled Cale as trash, but they didn’t know why it mattered right now.

“Right and as you know someone trash is selfish.”

The healer has no idea where this is going. In the first place, Cale was far from selfish. He may be opportunistic and a little manipulative but everything he did was for the betterment of others.

“Because I’m selfish I don’t care whatever happens to other people. My priority will always be me and my people first.”

_____ still has no idea where this is going.

“That means you, you rascal.”

Cale poked _____’s forehead, straightening the lines of confusion that had formed.

“You’re one of my people. You have been since that day you agreed to leave the City of Life with me.

Meaning, you are my priority. Meaning, I will not tolerate such dangerous and self-sacrificial actions from you.”

On looked at Cale as if he had no right to talk but the redhead didn’t notice it.

“And so in the future, I hope you can promise to never do anything that will harm you again. I don’t need promises of you doing better, I just want to know that you won’t get hurt this severely from healing other people...”

Plop

Cale who had more to say stopped speaking.

How could he not when he saw _____’s tears?

The same _____ who had a neutral expression after almost dying.

The same _____ who just nodded and moved on after realizing their family had abandoned them.

The same _____ who still had a poker face despite shaking from their nightmares.

That same _____ is now crying.

And it looks like they didn’t even notice they were crying.

_____ only noticed their tears when they picked up the two kittens that had been pawing their arm. After they did, the two took it upon themself to paw away the tears streaming down their face.

It seemed to have the opposite effect though.

Not only did it not stop the healer’s tears it actually made them cry more.

_____ couldn't stop the tears from flowing no matter how hard they tried. After a few seconds of trying they gave up and asked Cale a question instead.

"Cale-sunbae are you never mad at me? You never yell or punish me even though I keep messing up and is essentially useless to your group of experts..."

Cale feels as though he is gonna have a heart attack from all the surprises because of _____.

Are they being serious?

How could Cale get mad at them or think of them as useless when their abilities are so useful?

Just the amount of money they've saved from using fewer potions because they have a great healer was already amazing. Then there's the ancient power that makes them a living detector. Because of that ability, everyone found it easier to navigate the plants and monsters inside the Forest of Darkness.

How could someone amazing be deemed useless?

This was certainly because of the trash that adopted them.

Cale is going to make sure he fucks them up sooner or later.

But for now, the young master is going to make sure _____ understands their worth.

“I don’t take in useless people. I only take in people that can pay for their meals.”

The redhead used his personal handkerchief to dry the healer's tears.

As he did _____ could feel that warm and fuzzy feeling they felt back at the Whipper Kingdom come back. However, they ignored it in favour of listening to Cale’s words.

“Remember, I personally asked you to join me, to join us. Have you ever seen me make the wrong judgement?”

Cale is definitely tooting his own horn.

But hey if it makes _____ understand.

And it looks like it did because _____ shook their head no. Then they stayed silent as they stared at Cale’s handkerchief. As if they were absorbing the weight of his words.

Cale deemed it enough for now. He knows that _____ will have a hard time reversing everything they’ve learned. It won't be easy, but Cale is willing to go at _____’s pace.

Later that night Choi Han knocked on Cale’s door to report something.

When the swordmaster entered the room the first thing he noticed was how none of the children were with Cale.

“They’re in _____’s room. They said something about making sure that _____ doesn’t cry again.”

Was Cale’s short answer when asked.

“_____-nim cried?”

Choi Han couldn’t believe it. Just what did his Cale-nim say to someone as expressionless as _____ that it made them cry…

“Check on them yourself if you don’t believe me.”

That’s exactly what Choi Han did after he finished his report.

Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t because he didn’t trust Cale’s words. It’s more because he wanted to see if the healer was doing better now.

The black-haired man knocked on the door and Raon answered by opening it using mana.

It’s dark in the room but Choi Han has no problems seeing everything. As he scans the room he sees the children averaging 8 years old lying down on _____’s bed. The two kittens are already asleep just like the healer, leaving the black dragon to be the only one awake.

Choi Han smiled at the sight. The children didn’t look any different aside from the fact they were sleeping on _____’s bed instead of Cale’s. At the same time, it looks like _____ themself is sleeping peacefully.

The swordmaster checked everything one more time to make sure he didn’t miss anything before closing the door to let the four get their well-deserved rest.

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munsonluhvr · 1 year ago

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THE TUTOR

pairing: virgin!eddie munson x virgin!reader. being the straight a+ student you are, you're asked to tutor the most difficult student at hawkins - Eddie Munson. word count: 3.6k. warnings: (18+) p in v, oral, fingering, body parts described, light cussing, probs misspellings.

“Y/n, come talk to me please,” Your teacher Mrs. Bennett asks, as you stand up from your desk. The bell had just rung, signaling that it was time to head to your next class. English was the class that just concluded, your favorite course for the semester. English came to you with ease, and you enjoyed to book you were reading so far.

You walk up to Mrs. Bennett’s desk. “You wanted to speak to me?”

Mrs. Bennett nods, taking her glasses off. “I’ve received another request for an English tutor to help… an older student.” You had been a peer tutor since your first year of high school, now entering your fourth year.

You cock your head to the side, “An older student?”

Mrs. Bennett nods, “Yes; Eddie Munson.”

Your mouth slacks open, “You want me to tutor Eddie Munson? Hasn’t that been proven to be impossible?” You had heard from the small group of peer tutors that Eddie Munson had been proved to be a challenge, either showing up to tutor sessions smelling of weed or not showing up at all.

Mrs. Bennett frowns, shaking her head. “Let’s be forgiving, y/n. Plus, all the students like you; your success rate is the highest of all the tutors. I thought you would be up for the…challenge.”

You re-adjust your attitude, “Of course, Mrs. Bennett.”

“Good,” Your teacher says, now smiling. “You should meet with him starting today, every day for the next couple of weeks. He really wants to graduate finally and a lot of his English grade rests on the final quiz.”

You nod, listening closely.

“-And here are the books his class is reading,” Mrs. Bennett says pushing a small stack of books towards you, “With tests quizzes to help further progress along.”

“Great, I’ll start today,” You say, “Thank you, Mrs. Bennett.”

Mrs. Bennett leans forward, “Goodluck, y/n.”

You back up from the desk, heading towards the door. On top of everything else you had going on; you didn’t need to be tutoring the Eddie Munson.

You enter the hallway, dodging students that are rushing to their next class. You make your way to your next class, which was just down the hallway, thinking about your plan to help Eddie pass his last English class. Eddie was 20, failing to graduate two or three times, and he barely has the patience to pay attention.

You make it to your next class, taking a deep breath in hopes to make it through the rest of the day. Which you did, your last two classes flying by quickly. Once your last class concludes, you made your way to the library in attempt to find out Eddie’s schedule and where to find him.

When you push the door to the library open, you see Eddie standing at the desk. You hear the desk attendant say, “That’s her there,” and point to you.

Eddie turns around, scanning you up and down. “Are you the poor soul who is going to attempt to help me pass my English class?”

You nod, “That would, sadly, be me.”

Eddie tucks his hands into his pockets, “The enthusiasm is overwhelming.”

You shift the books that Eddie’s class in reading in your arms and you place them on the table that is nearby. “So, shall we start?”

Eddie shrugs, coming over to the table and sorting through the pile of books you put down. You watch his nimble fingers, covered in big, metal rings, flip through the pages of the books, his shirt pulling up at the sleeves to reveal the tattoos of a cluster of black bats on his forearm.

You had always heard rumors about Eddie Munson and his club, that were mostly started by the basketball team, and you always found him mysterious. You never believed that he was a freak like they called him, or that he was a devil worshiper. You knew that he lived in a rough neighborhood, the trailer park off of the highway, and that his uncle was his guardian. You always thought that those facts could impact the way a person acted.

You are brought out of your thoughts when you notice Eddie waving his hand in front of your face. “Helloo, y/n?”

“Sorry,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Let’s start.”

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, but sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on the table. You roll your eyes, sitting down as well. You flip through the book that Eddie’s class was reading, remembering when you read the book a year prior.

You begin your tutoring session, making connections between the reading and the discussion questions that were in the papers that Mrs. Bennett has given you. You feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he listens to you. You look over at him after a few minutes, “Are you even listening?”

Eddie kicks his feet of the table, leaning forward onto the table, his face only a few inches from yours. “I’m listening.”

You clench your jaw, backing up a few inches. You shake your head, starting to get frustrated, “Look, I’m not the one about to miss graduation for the third time. I’d suggest paying a little more attention.”

Eddie smiles, amused by your attitude. “It’s a little hard when a girl as pretty as you is talking.”

You roll your eyes, having heard about Eddie’s playful, flirty side. You had also heard that he was equally shy. “Eddie, seriously.”

Eddie laughs, “I am being serious.”

You ignore him, continuing on with summarizing the book, writing down short notes for Eddie to refer to and study. You continue on like this for the next hour, the hallway quieting down as everyone has gone home. You decided it was best to end the tutoring session, Eddie’s attention starting to fade away.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie says, collecting the notes you had made for him. You nod, heading towards the library entrance. “Same time, same place.”

You pushed the door open, and head out of the library. The hallway was significantly cooler then the library and you felt your cheeks blush when you thought about Eddie’s compliment. You shook it off making your way home.

When you get home, your mom is waiting for you, bouncing your younger sibling on her hip. “Where have you been?”

“I had a tutoring session; sorry I’m home late.”

Your mother passed your baby sister to you as she stirred the pot that was boiling on the stove. “I just found out I have a meeting tomorrow at the same time you normally tutor so I need you to cancel so you can watch your sister.”

You roll your eyes, strapping your sister into her highchair. “I can’t just cancel, mom.”

Your mother sighs, looking over her shoulder at you. “I know you’ll figure just something out. Just be home right after school, okay?”

You nod, leaving the kitchen to head up to your room.

The next day of school went by quick, your mind occupied with solving your study location issue. After your fourth-class finishes, you step out into the hallway, joining the crowd of students. A few feet away, you see Eddie standing with his friends, seemingly his club members by their matching shirts, and you make your way towards them.

Dustin, one of the boys standing around Eddie, nudges Eddie to alert him of your presence. Eddie turns around to greet you. “Y/n,”

“Eddie,” you say, taking a peek at the couple of boys that stood behind him. They all stare at you with curiosity. “I need to switch where we’re meeting later. Can you come to my house instead of the library? I have to watch my sister for my mom.” Dustin’s mouth slacks slightly at the sound of you, a girl, inviting Eddie to your house.

Eddie nods, his eyes scanning your face. “Yeah, that works. What your address?”

You rattle off your address, starting to back away. “Come around 4,” you say, hoping your mom would be gone by then. You weren’t sure what she’d think about inviting a boy over when she wasn’t there, even if it was just for a tutor session.

The rest of the day blew by and before you knew it, you were standing in front of your mirror that stood on a stand next to your dresser. You toss your hair, leaning in close to inspect the lip gloss you just applied. You shake your head at yourself, catching yourself primping for Eddie. Downstair, you hear someone knock at the door. You glanced at your clock, seeing that it was half past four.

You jog down your stairs, hoping the knock didn’t wake up your infant sister who you had just put down for a nap. You open the door and Eddie is leaning in the doorway.

“Hey,” he says, stepping around you to enter your house. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, now be quiet, I just put my sister down for a nap.”

“Sorry,” He whispers, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“Follow me,” you say, guiding Eddie up the stairs. You lead him into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly.

“So, this is the princesses’ room,” Eddie says, taking a look around your room. He seats himself on your bed, picking up your stuffed bear that rested near your pillow. Eddie smiles, making the bear waves it’s hand at you. You roll your eyes, sitting next to him on your bed. “Hand me your books,” you say, putting your hand out.

Eddie unzips his bag, pulling the books out. He hands them to you, your fingers brushing his. You pause as Eddie glances at you. Your faces are only a few inches apart, close enough to notice that his clothes smelled like cigarettes mixed with laundry detergent. Your breath hitches, and you cough to break the silence. Eddie blinks out of his trance, pulling out the notes you had made for him the day prior. “These were really helpful when I looked them over last night, thanks.”

You nod, “Good; of course.”

Again, another instance of silence occurred, and you glance at Eddie to see he’s looking at your freshly glossed lips. “Eddie, are you ready?” Eddie jumps slightly, turning his head to his laps where his notebook lays. “Yup, ready.”

You blush, wondering what Eddie was thinking while he looked at your lips. You begin to start your tutoring session for the next hour, Eddie actively paying attention. You felt like you and Eddie were making good strides and you felt confident enough to interrupt and initiate a snack break.

“Do you want water, soda?” You ask Eddie, standing up from your bed.

Eddie shrugs, “Whatever you have, I’ll have too.”

You nod, moving to leave your room. You take a trip downstairs, grabbing two soda cans from the fridge. You run back up the stairs, taking the stairs by two, and enter your room again. Eddie stands at your dresser, picking up the small picture frames of you and your friends at the beach. He notices you walk in and moves back to your bed. You walk over to where he sits, on the foot of your bed, and hand him a soda can. Again, your fingers brush Eddie’s.

You lift the tab, opening the drinking hole, and Eddie does the same. You take a sip, realizing how thirsty you are. Eddie leans back against your bed foot-frame, glancing at you. You lean back on your hands, creating extra distance between you and Eddie.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Eddie asks, boldly

You swallow your sip of soda hard, making eye contact with Eddie. “No; why do you ask?”

“Because you don’t have any photos of guys, it’s just you and your friends,” Eddie says simply.

You glance at your dresser full of picture frames, and then back to Eddie. “Yeah, no boyfriend.”

Eddie continues to stare at you, and you squirm under his attention.

You break the silence, “Do you have a girlfriend?” You feel foolish asking, but why couldn’t you ask too?

Eddie scoffs, turning his attention away from you. “Like anyone would date a freak.”

You frown, “That can’t be true. You’re a good-looking guy.” You blush when you realize what you’ve said. Eddie glances at you once again, a curious look on his face.

“You think so?” Eddie says, leaning forward, closing the gap between you and him. His face is only a few inches from yours, sending the scent of his cigarettes and laundry detergent back to you. He placed his can of soda on the ground, right on your white shag rug.

You nod, letting him invade your personal space. Suddenly, you feel the intense urge to let him truly invade your personal space, your attraction to him causing you to lean close to him. In an instant, your face was only an inch from his. You had very little experience with guys, and you assumed Eddie had no experience with girls, yet you felt confidence of an experienced women. You didn’t know where these feelings came from, but you wanted to explore them more.

You push your lips into Eddie’s, and in an instant he responds to your gesture. Your lips move roughly with his, Eddie’s tongue slipping into your mouth. You sigh at the feeling, your stomach forming a knot in anticipation. Eddie pushes you back, your back laying on your bed.

Eddie kicks his shoes off, climbing on top of you. You arrange your body in a way that allows him to nestle himself on top of you. Eddie cups your face with his ring covered hand, deepening the kiss. You feel his nerves showcasing themselves in his movements, each touch un-confident and inexperienced.

Eddie moves his hands down further from your face, never breaking contact with your lips, as he cups your breast over your shirt. Your body reacts intensely to his touch, your body craving him. You break the kiss with Eddie to lean up and lift your shirt up and off. Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of your bra-covered chest, and you lay back on your bed, letting your fingers play with the bottom of Eddie’s t-shirt.

Eddie gets the hint and lifts his shirt off. You reach out, cupping his face and guiding him into yours. You feel Eddie harden in his jeans as your almost bare chest presses against his. Your core aches for Eddie’s touch, every touch becoming more desperate.

Eddie feels hunger for you too, his mind in autopilot. His fingers toy with the band of your jeans, his nimble fingers moving to unzip your pants. You help him by wiggling out of your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and underwear. You thank yourself for picking out your decent underwear, so you didn’t embarrass yourself.

You spread your legs open wider, Eddie settling himself between your thighs. Eddie moves a hand to let his hand grope you between your thighs. You moan softly, sending Eddie into a tizzy. Eddie pulls his big, chunky rings off, letting them drop to the floor. He pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers plunge into you.

You gasp, your hands clutching your sheets. Eddie breaks the kiss, your mouth agape as you breathe heavily. He peppers your neck in kisses, letting them trail to your chest and between your breasts. Eddie’s fingers move out of you in a rhythm, pressure beginning to build in your abdomen. Your hips jut up, expressing how you were experiencing pleasure from Eddie’s touch.

You feel the urge to taunt Eddie, drawing him in to pull his pants off and pleasure you. You lean up again, un-clipping your bra. Your breasts fall out and Eddie is quick to move his kisses on your nipple. Eddie, takes your nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue across your bud. You place your hand into Eddie’s long, curly hair, pulling him further onto your chest. Eddie feels your desperation radiating off your skin, laced in every movement you make. He pulls away from you, standing up next to the bed to unzip his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie’s tent in his black boxers, and you forget that you’re essentially naked in front of a boy for the first time. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, kneeling below you. You part your legs to allow for more space on the bed. He kneels, moving your legs so they rest on his shoulders. He hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs slowly while he makes eye-contact with you. He flicks your panties to the ground, leaving you completely naked.

Eddie gazes at you for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of your naked body. He moves to hover over your body, aligning himself with you again. His face dips down, his lips meeting yours once again, and you take the opportunity to hook your fingers into his boxers, pushing them down his thighs. He helps you, kicking them off, letting them fall to the floor. Eddie trails kisses from your lips to your neck and you take the initiative to look at Eddie’s cock. Your stomach clenches at the sight of it, its large size intimidating you.

Eddie, nuzzles his face into your neck, leaning on his arm. “Can I?”

You nod, spreading your legs open to let him in. Eddie lines himself up with you and you take a deep breath. With one swift push, Eddie enters you, his size demanding your sex to adjust to fit his size. You grab on to his bicep, squeezing it roughly as you react to the slight feeling of pain.

Eddie starts out with slow thrusts, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you. You moan softly, your eyes fluttering shut. Eddie sighs too, the feeling of you clenched around him sending shivers up his arms and down his torse.

“Fuck, Eddie.” You say, your back arching. Your nipples graze his chest, and Eddie takes notice. His pace quickens, his movements a little rougher.

Your fingertips graze his sides, his warm skin feeling hot against your cold, exposed skin. Eddie initiates another kiss with you, and you lean into it. Eddie’s strokes continue, sending pleasure up your body. Your head was spinning with thoughts but all you could think about is how your body fit perfectly with Eddie’s.

“You feel so good, y/n,” Eddie mutters against your lips.

Your skin flushes at Eddie’s comment, your thighs clenching around his waist. Eddie’s movements weren’t enough for you, your body craving more. You maneuver your foot between his and use it as leverage to move yourself on top of Eddie. Now, Eddie lays on his back, his face expressing shock from the whirlwind you sent him in. You sink down on the length of his cock and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.

You begin to rock back and forth, like you had seen in the movies, and knew you were doing it right by the way Eddie reacted to your movements. You grasp Eddie’s hands, moving them to your waist. Eddie’s grasp tightens around your hip bones, helping you set the tempo.

Eddie moans loudly, one of his hands moving to your backside. Eddie sits up, colliding his lips with yours. “I’m close,” Eddie says, between kisses.

You sigh, wishing the moment could go on forever. You lean back, creating inches of distance between you and Eddie. You let your fingertips graze his cheek, taking in his features. He was truly a beautiful person.

You push him back, moving from your position on his cock. Eddie frowns, missing the feeling of you clenched around him. You back up, taking his length into your hand. Eddie shivers under your touch, watching you take his member into your mouth. His fingers intertwine in your hair, pushing you down further. You bob your head, discovering your love the action of giving head.

Quicker than you wished, Eddie comes in the back of your throat, his hip jutting up to push his entire self down your throat. Now, you missed the feeling of him moving in and out of you, your mind full of filthy things you wanted to try.

You stand up, feeling awkward and exposed all of a sudden. You pick your panties off the ground, stepping into them, and put your t-shirt on over your head, leaving your bra on the floor. You toss Eddie’s underwear to him, and he catches them, his eyes lingering on you.

“So..” Eddie says, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side of your bed.

You look up at him, a small smile on your lips, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You don’t know what to say, not knowing how the moment got so out of hand. You were studying, drinking soda, and then before you knew it you were naked, Eddie deep inside of you.

“We should probably continue studying tomorrow.” You say, leaning against your dresser.

Eddie frowns, cocking his head at you. Your mind is in a flutter, your eyes gazing at Eddie’s barely clothed body. “You’re really going to graze over what just happened?”

Your eyes shift, going from Eddie’s eyes to the floor. “I don’t really know what happened, honestly.”

Eddie laughs, once again amused by you. “I think we should do it again; after I take you out on a date of course.”

Your eyes snap to his, your eyebrows raised. “A date?”

Eddie shrugs, picking his rings off the floor. “Would you be interested?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. You were intrigued by Eddie, his mysterious and complex persona pulling you in. You also didn’t mind that he had just performed perfectly in bed.

“I’d love to.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you

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maknaesdancersrappers · 4 months ago

Text

devoted 2.

part 17.

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.) character death, dark themes

Chapter warning/s: vulgar language, violence, self harm, stalking, kidnapping

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 16

wc: 6.9k nice

November 8.

You carefully swept the doe foot applicator of your favorite gloss over your lips, smacking them together to even out the product. It had a soft strawberry scent and flavor that gave your lips just the right amount of sheen. This was the last part of your makeup routine, satisfied with how you kept your face as bare as possible but covered any blemishes and brightened up the darkness under your eyes.

Today was your first date with Jaehyun.

The first semester was ending which meant you weren’t going to be classmates anymore. For the longest time, you were both meeting up at the library or the quad to study — even if it was for different subjects. But a few days ago, Jaehyun ran after you when class finished as you were rushing to your next one for a quiz, and he asked you out on a date.

You were elated, bashfully accepting his invitation and completely distracted for the entire day at the thought of going on an actual date with your crush. You initially believed that the feelings were one sided, he didn’t seem to be interested in you and was just naturally friendly. You’ve seen him around campus hanging out with other people — mostly girls, so you didn’t feel necessarily special when he met up with you at the library.

Your phone chimed as it received a text and you peered down to see the notification.

I couldn’t wait. I’m outside your dorm to pick you up.

You let out a quiet sound of surprise, rushing outside to the living room of your shared apartment to look outside the window there that was right above the entrance of the building. You saw Jaehyun leaning against the brick half wall that enclosed the property your dorm was in. He was on his phone, probably waiting for your reply.

Instead, you gathered up everything into your purse and ran out the door.

“Hey.” Jaehyun greeted you with a smile when you called out to him. He was in ripped, baggy jeans, a white shirt that fit just right, and a neutral cardigan. You felt relieved to know that you dressed just as casual as he did by sporting tight fitting, but stretchable jeans and a nude chiffon blouse.

“Hi.” You breathed, hoping it wasn’t obvious you were excited. “H-how… how did you know where my dorm was?”

His forehead scrunched ever so gently, “You mentioned it in passing when I offered to walk you home one time.”

“Oh.” You do recall him offering to walk with you back to your dorm multiple times, especially when it got too late that the librarians themselves were the ones kicking you out. You were too shy to let him, mostly because you also didn’t want to bother him with his own journey back to his place.

“Well, shall we? There’s this cafe I’ve been meaning to try in town.”

You nodded your head, taking a step forward but faltering when he just continued to smile down at you. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, ears a little pinker than usual, “No, sorry. Nothing’s wrong. You just look extra cute today.”

You could feel your face burst into heat at his words, “O-oh, thank you…”

Jaehyun chuckled, holding out his hand to you.

For a split second, you were scared that your palms started to sweat out of nervousness but not wanting to delay the date any further, you placed your hand on top of his. He threaded his fingers with yours and squeezed your hand, nudging you towards him.

“Let’s go.”

You’ve walked beside Jaehyun multiple times already but this time you’re walking hand in hand with him — and he’s even swaying your conjoined hands! You were screaming inside at how cute he was to do this. He gave off such a cool vibe that you didn’t think he had such an adorable side.

Autumn has started and the weather was perfect to be outside, the leaves were turning to beautiful shades of reds, oranges, and yellows. It was nice to take a stroll under them right now and it feels quite cozy, especially with Jaehyun.

He filled up the silence growing between you, not that it bothered you, with small talk. He asked about your morning and the day before, if you had any plans for the holiday break. You told him that you were going back home to your parents over the holidays and was unsure if your parents had plans to celebrate.

You could feel his thumb gently smooth over your skin as he talked about his plans over the break, mentioning how he’s going to be helping out his dad in his business.

The cafe you both arrived at was smack dab in between a bookstore and a mom-and-pop store. There were little to no patrons in the cafe from the looks of it and it still had some streamers and balloons from their opening.

“Good morning! Welcome to Cafe Hue.” One of the three workers on duty, the cashier, greeted as you entered.

You offered a smile and glanced briefly at the interior — a habit you picked up in middle school that pushed you into taking interior design. For its namesake, the overall interior was a crisp white with loud, brightly colored decors dotting the shelves. There was room for improvement with the choice of furniture, but it still works.

“What would you like?” Jaehyun asked, pulling you out of your reverie by softly squeezing your hand.

You looked up at the chalkboard menu, giving each item a thought until you settled on a hot cup of French vanilla tea. Jaehyun relayed your order to the cashier, who’s eyes seemed very eager to meet his gaze, and added his own order of an iced americano.

“Do you want anything to eat? We can share something if you’d like.”

“I don’t mind a slice of cake or muffin.”

Jaehyun bobbed his head, “Anything in particular?”

“What would you recommend?” You directed the question to the cashier giving heart eyes up at Jaehyun. She shifted her attention to you, a full second of annoyance flashing in her face before plastering a model customer service smile.

“Everything is freshly baked, our baker’s favorite is the basque cheesecake, but personally, I love the chocolate carrot cake.”

“Both sound good, so I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

The cashier’s smile brightened as she returned her attention to Jaehyun, who seemed oblivious to it.

“Then a slice of each.” He didn't wait for her to tally the order and pulled out his wallet, brandishing a black card from within and placing it on the counter. She seemed astonished to see the card in front of her, but it only took a second for her to punch your orders in while repeating it out loud to confirm. Jaehyun nodded and she swiped the card.

“Have you always been a tea person? I could have gotten you tea instead of coffee all this time at the library.” He inquired, pursing his lips ever so slightly at you.

“Not necessarily.” You shrugged your shoulders, “My mind has strongly associated coffee with productivity and since we’re not here to study, I’d rather have tea. I like both, equally.”

Jaehyun finished paying for the order and guided you to a seat by the window. He helped you into your seat briefly before seating himself.

There was a palpable pause when he looked at you and it almost became awkward until he coughed and glanced away, ears visibly red.

“I’m sorry,” He cleared his throat, “I’ve never really… taken anyone out on a date before.”

The admission made your brows shoot up a little, “What? You’ve never dated anyone?”

He shook his head, “No. Wasn’t really interested… until I met you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and the faintest heat rose up your cheeks. “Oh. Uhm,” You stuttered, “I… I didn’t expect that from you.”

He sighed, “I get that a lot — not to be vain or anything. I was just never interested in the dating scene.”

“Haven’t girls asked you out? None of them caught your eye?”

Jaehyun shook his head again. “They all seemed… pretentious? No, too eager? Like I’m prey or something.”

You’re still having a hard time believing that this gorgeous man has not dated at all — let alone having you as the first person he’s ever expressed interest in. “What makes me different?”

Slowly, a small smile formed on his lips, “That’s what I’d like to know.”

You woke up startled, as if your body reminded you that you were in no position to be sleeping in. Honestly, you don’t even know how you fell asleep. You remembered looking around the room in hopes to find a way out, but everything was sealed shut with bolts or protected with grills. You discovered that despite being kidnapped, you were still provided other basic necessities. The other door led to a small ensuite bathroom; just one solid square where there were no partitions or dividers between the shower and the toilet. There was even a drawer full of clothes in your size (that you found mildly disturbing).

It almost felt like Yuta wanted you to feel like you were just away from home instead of being used as bait in a trap.

“Jaehyun.” You mumbled, covering your mouth with your palm. Yuta was right. Regardless of your current relationship status, Jaehyun would do anything in his power to find you and you don’t even want to think about what he could possibly do to Yuta when he gets his hands on him.

All you could do was hope Jaehyun won’t be careless in this situation.

You looked around the room as if you would find something new, but it was more bare than a real estate showroom. Yuta seemed to have cleared the food he had brought in for you last night while you slept, and thinking about it now, you were growing hungry.

There was a small knock at the door and you expected Yuta to come in, but you were pleasantly — also slightly confused — to see someone else come in.

“Oh,” The woman meekly said, “Good morning, Ms. [Y/N]. I’ve brought you breakfast.”

You stared at her; she looked so familiar. You watched as she pushed the door open with her shoulder while her hands were occupied with carrying a tray of food and water.

When she placed it on the table, you gasped.

“Mina!”

She smiled, “I’m flattered to know you remember me, Ms. [Y/N].”

“You’ve been missing for weeks. A-are you working for him?”

The smile disappeared from her face as she vehemently denied your accusation, shaking her head. “Please don’t misunderstand this, Ms. [Y/N]! I… I’m forced to do this. If not…” Mina paused, “I’m sorry, I was only tasked to bring your breakfast. I’ll collect the plates later when I bring up your lunch. I’m sorry again, Miss. Please, enjoy your food.”

“Wait—” You clambered off the bed, but Mina was out the door with a soft click behind her.

This just left you with more questions to haunt you. Why was she here? Why was she cooperating with Yuta? Is she a victim as well?

Despite doubting the food’s integrity, you were starving and even though you were served a simple bowl of congee and orange juice, it looked like the most delicious meal you’ve seen in your life. You helped yourself to the food, savoring the flavor exploding in your mouth.

Halfway through your meal, you remembered the dream you had last night.

Your first date with Jaehyun happened almost exactly 8 years ago. Times were simpler back then; everything was just about getting deadlines done at school, going on lunch dates, and clubbing every weekend night.

You started to lose your appetite and felt like throwing up.

How did you end up here?

Burying your face into your palms, you breathed in deeply to stop yourself from crying. You didn’t want to blame Jaehyun, but it’s the truth. You can’t help but think where you would be today if you had walked away from him the first time. You could have still been roommates with Minkyung and Yebin, somewhere in the city. Maybe you could have met someone new at work or the girls could have set you up with someone. Although, you have to admit that the idea pinched at your heart.

You still loved Jaehyun despite everything. Rather than hoping to move on as quickly as you can, you wished he had done things the right way with yo—

Lurching forward, you clamped your mouth shut as you suddenly stood up, the chair falling back with a loud thud. The taste of acid and the congee you had just consumed filled your mouth and you bolted into the bathroom, kneeling at the toilet to expel the vomit.

You barfed into the bowl until you felt like you couldn’t possibly heave anything else from your stomach. Sweat started to build up on your forehead as you calmed yourself down. You spat the remaining sour taste from your mouth and hoisted yourself up, flushing the toilet while you wondered if you caught a virus again.

Then it hit you.

You were supposed to meet Dr. Ahn. Unconsciously, your hand went over your abdomen. Surely, you weren’t…

You brushed the idea away. You’ve been on IUD for years and it’s been extremely effective; why now? These were just your nerves getting to you.

“Please eat something.” Jaehyun’s mom gestured to the maid she entered his room with to replace the food they brought last night. It was barely touched and the rice had gone stale.

“I don’t have an appetite.” He mumbled through his palm, focused on the latest report from the Commissioner General. They were just more reports on how other missing women were possibly linked to him and he honestly didn’t care about it. He just wanted to know why this is happening — what did he ever do to him.

“Sweetheart, even a few slices of fruit?”

Jaehyun looked up at his mom, contemplating telling her what he’s discovered on his own but decided against it. “Sure, I’ll have an apple.”

She perked up, “Alright, I’ll go prepare it myself.”

When his mom and the maid finally left him alone, he pulled out his phone and dialed one of his recent contacts.

“I found out something crucial.” He skipped formalities and greetings. “I don’t want to discuss this over the phone. Can you gather Doyoung and Minkyung for me? And do you think she can host us?”

“Okay, hello, I’m fine, thanks for asking.” Yebin sarcastically responded. “You know any other day, I would have dropped the call.”

“You wouldn’t have picked up.”

Yebin cooed, “Aw, I’m a little touched that you know me so well.”

“Yebin.” Jaehyun impatiently said. He didn’t have the time to have these types of banter with her right now.

“Fine. I’ll contact them.”

“As discreetly as possible, please.” Jaehyun paused, “Wait, don’t ask Minkyung to host us. I’ll get back to you on that.”

Without any further questioning, they ended the call with no goodbyes and Jaehyun flinched as the door opened.

“Here you go!” His mother sashayed into his room, handing him a small plate of peeled, sliced apples. “And if you decide to have anything more, let me know, okay, sweetheart?”

He smiled up at her, “Yes, mom. Although, I might have dinner with Johnny some time soon.”

“Oh,” She said, “Why not just invite him over? Wouldn’t it be safer?”

“I don’t really like bringing home work. We’ll be fine. I’ll bring extra bodyguards if it would put your mind at ease.”

“It would, thank you. Please be careful and give my regards to Johnny. He’s always welcome to drop by here whenever he feels like it.”

Jaehyun snorted, his mother always treated Johnny like a second son and of course, he had no qualms about it. “I’ll let him know.”

Once his mother left, he picked up an apple slice and dialed a different number on his phone. He listened to the phone ring while munching on the fruit until the other person picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I understand this is a bit last minute, but could we possibly meet up in your place? Out of everyone that we’re friends with, your place seems to be the safest. I’ll explain more when we get there.”

“Of course. I’m off early today so I can accommodate you guys. I’ll send my address in a bit.”

“Thank you.” He paused, “Please be careful and wary of your surroundings. As a safety precaution.”

“I will. See you later.”

“Who arranges a meeting and is late for it?” Yebin griped, flicking popcorn with the tips of her long nails to choose the one with the most butter on it.

Johnny, picking out all the pieces she had discarded on the side and tossing it into his mouth, glanced at her, “It is rush hour. Maybe he got into traffic.”

“Maybe he’s in trouble.” Yebin snapped back, shrugging her shoulders. “He could be bleeding out from a gunshot wound right now.”

“Yebin!” Minkyung gasped, swatting her shoulder briefly before clasping her hands together in prayer. “Surely, he’s caught in traffic.”

Although at the last minute, they were able to gather at Kun’s apartment at the designated time. Kun was originally worried if he could host this many people in his small apartment but he’s never been thankful for signing the lease for the one bedroom apartment over the studio type.

He’s even more thankful he believed the feng shui expert who told him to prioritize having a bigger dining area than lounge space so almost everyone tonight could be seated. He is, however, a bit embarrassed he only had movie snacks in his pantry instead to offer as they waited for Jaehyun, hence Yebin and Johnny sharing a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. Luckily, Minkyung had brought some rice cakes and chicken with her — saying it’s her cheat day and wanted to share her cravings with them.

Doyoung had finished swallowing a rice cake that was way too chewy for his liking before making a comment about Kun’s apartment. “As a doctor, I’d expected you to have a healthier food selection.”

“I don’t have guests over often and I haven’t had time to go get groceries.” He sheepishly admitted, placing the bottle of makgeolli he had received from a former patient. “I live off hospital cafeteria food most days.”

“What a mood.” Minkyung quipped, “I respect it. I used to take home leftovers from the food spreads at photoshoots to save money.”

“You always brought home the good stuff when you had small gigs back in college.” Yebin mused, flicking another butter-less popcorn over to Johnny’s side. “[Y/N] and I would always fight for the bougiest one.”

“Speaking of [Y/N],” Minkyung snapped her fingers and pursed her lips, “I haven’t heard from her in awhile. She hasn’t responded to my messages.”

“I was gonna ask the same thing.” Doyoung said before picking up another rice cake from the plate. He glanced at Kun, “I was surprised that you called me over instead of her.”

“Oh! Are we planning a surprise for her or something?”

Johnny and Kun looked at each other, then turned their attention to Yebin, who shut her eyes in annoyance when they did so.

Minkyung gasped, “Did you see that?” She asked Doyoung, “They shared a look!”

“I did.” He narrowed his eyes, aiming them at Kun. “Is there something we don’t know? Is something wrong with [Y/N]?”

“We should really wait for Jaehyun—” Kun cleared his throat, glancing back and forth from Johnny and Yebin for support.

“If something’s wrong and you guys know about it, then what’s the point of waiting for Jaehyun to tell us? We’re all equally her friends here.” Doyoung’s tone made Kun wince.

“We know that!” Yebin butted in, throwing her hands up in frustration. “But we barely know anything as well! Only Jaehyun does and this motherfucker is late—”

On cue, there was a knock on the door and Kun promptly walked over to open the door after checking who was outside through the peephole.

“About time!” Yebin hissed, crossing her arms and glaring up at him.

“I’m sorry. There was a meeting held on the case that I was allowed to listen in to.” Jaehyun said, coolly, no trace of joy or bashfulness his voice usually had when he was with them.

“Is it about [Y/N]? What happened to her?” Minkyung sat up on her seat, brows furrowed in worry.

Kun offered the last seat at the table to Jaehyun, who nodded but remained standing.

“[Y/N] has been missing for over a week now. She’s probably been kidnapped.”

“By who?” Minkyung gasped, “Her college stalker?”

Johnny scoffed, “That dude’s still after her?”

Jaehyun caught Doyoung’s gaze flickering over to him, eyes twitching briefly before he closed them and rubbed his fingers over them to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’s always been the protective brother figure in your life and being one of the last ones to find out about your current situation must be making him feel like shit.

“We don’t know yet. However,” He coughed, clearing his throat. “We have reason to believe that [Y/N]’s case is related to the string of missing women around Seoul.”

“So…” Johnny drew out, “It’s not a targeted type of situation? It’s not the creep from college?”

Jaehyun inhaled deeply and sighed, finally taking the seat that was offered to him. “From the findings of the police — the meeting I had joined earlier — it seems that the suspect does have a target… and it’s me.”

“What?” Yebin spat, “How are the other missing women related to you?”

He cupped his face, massaging in awkward circles to avoid their gazes. “As the police have uncovered, all the missing women have either worked for me, interacted with me, or… participated in an online thread about me back in high school.”

He said the last bit hurriedly, almost embarrassed about that fact.

Yebin’s face was painted with pure disgust, “You’re telling me that women are missing — most are reported to be presumably dead — because they were your fangirls back in high school? And our precious little [Y/N] has been kidnapped… because she’s your fiancée?”

Even Yebin bit her tongue when she said the last word, looking a bit apologetic when Jaehyun hung his head low. She knew calling you his fiancee dug the knife deeper into him than she had meant to. With the lack of reaction from the room, she could tell that only she knew the state of your current relationship.

“I don’t…” Jaehyun mumbled, “I don’t even know what I did to deserve this.”

“You weren’t in the best crowd in high school, but you were an angel compared to them.” Johnny spoke up, being the only one who came from Kyeonggi’s despite only attending for a year. “Who could possibly go through these lengths to get back at you?”

Jaehyun pulled his hands away from his face, expression grim and jaw tight. “I already know who it is. I don’t have enough concrete evidence, but I just know it’s him. He’s got the money to do what he wants, he’s smart, manipulative and he’s cunning and deceiving behind that fucking smile of his—”

“Smile?” Yebin cut him off, “Ooh, I knew that Japanese man was trouble! I’m canceling that fucking deal—”

“Don’t.” Jaehyun stopped her from taking her phone, “Unless you have a good reason as to why you’re breaking off a seemingly good contract with his company. Or any of you who had signed with him, for that matter.”

“Wait, wait,” Minkyung waved her hands in front of her to catch their attention, her perfectly shaped brows perpetually burrowed between her forehead, “Japanese man? Do you mean that Nakamoto guy? He’s your suspect?”

“I’ve always been suspicious of him. Everything started when he came into the picture: the number of missing women increasing… the stalking… this monopoly of their tech company in the country — especially in the security industry — that he’s offered to people around me and [Y/N]... He’s smart, yes, but like the snake he is, he’s leaving behind his skin.”

“Why aren’t you telling this to the police?” Doyoung inquired, taking everything Jaehyun had said. “You just said that the police are already investigating the case.”

“And they are. The commissioner general himself is heading the case.” He nodded, “But as I said, there’s no concrete evidence for me to pin this on Yuta.”

“Wait,” Kun interjected, “Nakamoto… Yuta? I think… he accompanied a patient of mine a while back.”

“Aren’t you a gynecologist?” Yebin scowled, “That man is not allowed to procreate— wait, he knocked someone up? Could it be one of the missing women?”

The thought of Yuta possibly touching you, consensually or not, hadn’t crossed his mind (or maybe he just didn’t want it to) and it made him seethe, balling his fists tightly until his nails dug into his palms.

“I’m not one to break doctor-patient confidentiality but if I remember correctly, he presented himself as a potential father despite what my patient was claiming.”

“What an asshole.” Yebin remarked, lips still downturned.

Kun continued, “He also seemed withdrawn from the whole ordeal — physically present, mentally absent.”

“Do you remember when this was?”

The doctor licked his lips, thinking hard about it. “Probably a few months ago? Barely a year. She was one of my first patients. She had come into the clinic with her arms around his arm, practically dragging him in. I can search for her name tomorrow at the clinic if we want to track her down.”

Minkyung gasped, “Oh my gosh, Kyungwon! We should check up on her. What if she’s been missing too?”

“Didn’t she say she broke it off with him? I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check up on her, she’s one of [Y/N]’s closest colleagues.” Yebin picked up her phone from the table and scrolled through her contacts, “Good thing I got her number last time so I could set her up with a cousin.”

“If there’s a way you can do it inconspicuously, then please do.” Jaehyun implored, “For now, I just need everyone to be on high alert. Act like you don’t know anything if you come across him.”

He sighed, cradling his jaw with his hand after propping his elbow against the table.

“Hey,” Johnny called from across the table, “[Y/N]’s a feisty girl. She’s not going down without a fight. I’m sure she’s okay.”

“I know she is. I’m just trying to figure out this fucking psychopath’s motive and plan.” He mumbled, “I’ve been wracking my brain out how it ended up this way. Did I step over his pride? Did I come off the wrong way on him when he was having a shitty day? I just don’t understand.”

“We can mull about it when we find out more things about him. My family has close connections to a prominent family in Japan, I can have someone get intel on Nakamoto from his home country.” Yebin offered, standing up from her seat. “This sicko is going to pay hell for even touching a single hair on [Y/N]’s head. I’d love to stay and plan out the ways we’re going to torture the fuck out of this guy when we catch him, but I have to handle an ingress of a museum exhibit down in Busan over the weekend. Keep me posted, yeah?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun started to rise from his seat but Yebin waved him off, “Yebin, thank you.”

“Don’t be gross, Jung. I’m doing this for her.”

“I’ll be heading out as well with Yebs. I have a photoshoot tomorrow at Daegu. I haven’t interacted with Yuta at all, and I’m hoping I don’t have to, but I’ll be vigilant.”

They saw the girls off and Kun offered the boys the case of beer he had in the back of his freezer.

“He seemed like such a cool dude. It’s rare to see guys who know the shit they work on, you know?” Johnny was the first one to break the silence between the four men quietly breaking open their respective beer cans and sipping the foam. “But I’m somehow not surprised about it either.”

“I barely interacted with him at the housewarming.” Doyoung confessed, “Even when our security system was replaced with his tech, I didn’t handle it personally.”

Jaehyun somberly acknowledged them, gently pushing the soft aluminum of the beer can that made a soft popping sound every time he let go. With their friends knowing the situation, he felt a little relieved to know he’s not alone in trying to save you.

If he could save you.

“Hey,” Kun nudged his arm and as if he had just heard his thought, said, “Don’t take it too hard on yourself. He’s playing a game that only he wants to play.”

“A game?” Jaehyun repeated.

“Well, that’s how I see it. The way I see it from what I know — which isn’t much — it seems like he’s learning about you to bait you out. Why take the time to find all these people from your past? People you don’t even know? If he’s got all this money and power to do virtually anything he wants, why waste it on them when he could’ve gone straight to people you actually care for?”

Kun shrugged, “Think of it like chess. He’s taken the rooks and the pawns — and even your queen. And the only advice I can offer now is for you to be careful and walk right into his trap.”

Just as the hour hand passed midnight, the boys called it a night. Kun saw them off at the entrance of his apartment building. Johnny had parked all the way down the street while Jaehyun was lucky to have gotten a spot nearby, offering Doyoung a ride after finding out he had commuted.

“I’m sorry, by the way.” Jaehyun said just as they buckled themselves into his car. Before Doyoung could respond, he continued, “You should be one of the first people I should tell about anything related to [Y/N]. I guess a part of me had always seen you as her older brother and I was ashamed to admit I couldn’t protect her.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, lips pursed in contemplation.

“You…” His voice trailed off, “You were her college stalker, right?”

Jaehyun’s fingers gripped the steering wheel, “I was.”

“Are you surprised that I know?”

“I had a feeling when it was brought up a while ago. Although as I said, you’re practically her brother. You two know everything about each other.”

“Apparently not everything.” Doyoung bitterly grumbled, slapping his forehead afterwards. “I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I haven’t checked up on her at all even when she mentioned she had to go home to her parents because she was sick.”

Silence came over them inside the car that seemed louder than the late night city life they were passing by.

“How did you react when she told you about what I did?”

“I told her she was crazy for coming back to you. I’ve urged her multiple times to break it off again.”

Jaehyun is oddly calm. He knew he would have been thinking about all the ways to make Doyoung eat his words, but now he’s just accepting all of it. Maybe because it was over between the two of you.

“But she fought for you.” Doyoung brought him out of his reverie. “Like her life depended on it. It made her look like an idiot, for sure, but she defended you. She gave you a second chance and begged me to do the same. So I did.”

“That means a lot to me. Thank you.” Jaehyun responded once he pulled over in front of Doyoung’s building. “But… I have to apologize again. Before she disappeared, she broke up with me.”

He looked at him like he had grown a second head. “I don’t believe you. I literally just told you she fought to be with you.”

“People… change their minds.” Jaehyun turned the engine off, but didn’t unlock the car. “And I’m starting to think it’s better that way. I never considered this situation before… someone is using her against me, but then again, I’m not entirely a good person for her.”

“But you’re good to her and that was enough for her.”

Jaehyun chuckled morosely, thinking, “If only you really knew everything, man.”

“So what? After we save her, you’re just… going to let her go?”

The response weighed heavy on Jaehyun’s tongue, refusing to be spoken and heard by someone else other than his thoughts. Every fiber of his being didn’t want to let you go, he wanted to fight for your relationship — but he knew he didn’t have the right to.

“Yeah,” He eventually said, “That’s the plan.”

You woke up to a muffled noise and a soft, rhythmic thumping on the adjacent wall of your bed. You groaned, a bit annoyed that your slumber was interrupted, but shook the grogginess away to figure out what was making the noise.

Sitting up, you didn’t bother to rub at the dryness of your eyes and pressed your ear onto the wall, only to gasp and pull away with cheeks flaring up.

Was that… a moan?

You put a hand to your mouth, pressing yourself back up on the wall to hear.

That’s definitely a woman moaning in pleasure and despite not being able to make out the words, the male voice accompanying the woman’s moans was Yuta. Shame overcame you once you realized overhearing their private moment had started to make you press your thighs closer.

You scooted away, jumped off your bed and sat at the table on the other side of the room. You could still hear the soft thumps, but at least you couldn’t hear the moans. Crossing your arms, you sat back on your seat and closed your eyes.

He’s doing this on purpose, you thought. For some twisted reason, you know he wants you to hear that.

Looking out the window, you tried to gauge what time it was. Around midnight, perhaps? What was Jaehyun doing? Is he even getting enough sleep? Is he eating properly? You slapped yourself.

“For someone who broke up with him, you’re pretty concerned about him.” You murmured, but bit your lip when it began to tremble. You should be mad at him. For all that he’s done. You’re in this situation because of him. But why does a part of you want him to leave it to the police? You hoped deep in your heart that he’s not going to come here himself like Yuta is anticipating because you don’t know what this psycho is planning — what his end goal is.

But why do you care? Why does it matter? You laid your head on the table and sobbed, “I still love him.”

“Please, please if there’s any higher being listening to me right now.” You prayed, voice shaky and strained, “Please don’t let him come here. Please.”

After some time, you jolted in your seat at the sound of the door knob rustling. Had you cried yourself to sleep?

The door opened and Yuta sauntered in wearing nothing but a pair of baggy sweats that hung low on his hips, smirking at the sight of your face that’s red and puffy from crying. “Aw, did you miss Jaehyun after hearing all that? Did you enjoy the show? I’ll let you watch next time~”

This man has an innate ability to fill you with rage within seconds.

Before you could think it through, you stood up and pushed his body with all your might, running at the door he hadn’t closed yet. You were able to swing it wider, but couldn’t get a foot out when you felt your hair being yanked back. You felt a few strands snap as you yelped in pain, trying to grab at Yuta’s fist around your head.

“That’s cute.” He laughed in your ear, kicking the door with his foot. He tossed you towards the bed like a rag doll, your body just hitting the edge of it before crumbling to the floor. “Don’t do that again. I’ll forgive you this time, but if you insist on taking a little stroll outside, I don’t mind trading a few minutes of freedom for some head.”

“Fuck you.” You spat, visibly shuddering at the offer.

He just laughed again, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t have to fuck myself. Your friend is a great fuck and leaves me happy every time.”

“What?” You massaged the part of your scalp that had been strained. When realization hit you, you gasped in horror, “Kyungwon?!”

You called out to her, scrambling onto your feet and running towards the wall. You pounded on the surface, “Kyung? Kyungwon, it’s me, [Y/N]!”

Yuta merely chuckled behind you, “Do you really think I would let her stay here overnight and discover you’re here?”

Somehow the thought of Kyungwon still being able to go home comforted you.

“That’s risky of you to bring her here in the first place.”

“It’s a gamble, but someone has to bring the prince to the damsel in distress, no?” Yuta dragged the chair you had sat on towards him and sat down.

“What do you plan on doing when Jaehyun gets here?” You heaved, keeping your emotions in check. “Do you honestly think he’s going to go here alone?”

He gave you a wicked smile, the type that made you shiver.

“I know he is.”

Yuta reached into the pocket of his pants, leading your gaze to the prominent tent between his legs that made you want to vomit. Does this type of scenario excite him? You averted your gaze to the television that turned on.

“As expected, Jaehyun had contacted your friends. Presumably to recruit them in saving you.”

A CCTV footage on what seems to be the front entrance of an apartment building appeared on screen. It didn’t look familiar to you, but then you see a familiar mop of head in the corner.

“Kun?”

“He graciously hosted everyone in his apartment. Smart move on Jaehyun since my company failed to convince the building owner’s to switch to my tech — but I doubt Jaehyun knows that. Good thing there’s a bunch of free streams of city’s CCTV on the net, huh? With a little nudge here, the camera is focused more on the apartment.”

Yuta tapped his phone and the video sped up. He only slowed it down to show you who was entering — first, it was Doyoung. Johnny followed, and Yebin and Minkyung came together.

“And last, but not the least,” Yuta sang, tapping his phone once more to show Jaehyun, even zooming into the video to get a better look at his face.

Your heart sank. He looked so sullen, it hasn’t been long, but he looked like he lost weight and aged a few years.

“Oh! I would have loved to hear what they were talking about.” He sighed, “Don’t you?”

“I don’t get what your end goal here is.” You hissed, balling your fists at your sides. “Kill Jaehyun?”

“Kill him? Heavens, no.” He laughed, “He can do that himself.”

Your nails almost pierced your palm at how much you balled your fists tighter upon hearing that.

“I want to break him — mentally and emotionally. I’ve already started to unravel him since I got the single thread that was keeping him together.” Yuta tipped his head at you, “I want to drive him insane until he loses himself — be that monster he really is.”

“He’s not a monster—”

“[Y/N], [Y/N],” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, “Should I give you another copy of his journal for you to read to pass time here? Did you forget already just because you saw him all mopey and sad just now? [Y/N], that man invaded your privacy from when you were younger! He had personally sent people to the hospital because of anger issues AND did not feel an ounce of remorse for doing so. Does that not bother you at all?”

You refused to comment, opting to control your breathing to stop yourself from hyperventilating at the reminder of the things you’ve read in the files.

“Aw, [Y/N], it’s okay. We all make mistakes. Yours was giving him that second chance.”

“No.” Your voice cracked.

Yuta’s brow rose up at your response.

“Giving him that second chance wasn’t a mistake. I don’t regret it.”

“I hope you don’t eat your words, [Y/N].” He sighed, “You haven’t read everything yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You snapped, defiant and curt. “I hope he kills you.”

Yuta chuckled, nonchalantly with a nod as he slowly stepped towards the door.

Your brows burrowed ever so slightly, what did he mean by that? Did he really just want Jaehyun to kill him? For what reason?

“By the way,” He said as he opened the door, the tone of his voice dropped lower and you’re mortified at how it sends pure fear shooting through you. “Try to escape again and there will be consequences. Don’t ruin the fun, [Y/N].”

And just like that, he left you once again in the room. The loud click of the lock signaled that you’re once again alone with your thoughts, drowning endlessly in questions that suffocated you to sleep every night since you’ve been here.

A/N: and it's finally here!! if anybody is still notif gang, thank you for being so patient 🥹 i hope it wasn't too fast paced, but i literally just wrote out what i typed out in the outline thats been rotting in my notes.

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