#i did NOT throw up. i was very near it tho

[existencebringsonlypain]

ughhhhhh remind me to never ride motor vehicles ever again

[moregraceful]

Tagged by @soyouwinagain to post 6 photos from my camera roll in the past week, thank you comrade, I was hoping someone would tag me 🫡🫡 except then I had to go back a couple weeks otherwise all six photos would have been my dog at a cocktail garden.

Ivan Fedotov and Erik Johnson at Flyers training camp, Fedotov in full Russian saint mode; a flower outside of an Indian restaurant; Yankees outfielders running away from each other and I'm so mad I only got them running back to position bc they were being SO cute while a reliever was warming up; Keats at the aforementioned cocktail garden, he was sweatin'; giant rotting boat outside of Ikea; boxes containing all of my earthly possessions.

[orcelito]

Finished ep 402. Could do without the fatphobic caricature I will be honest

[itsonlydana]

"Flower On My Skin" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x human fem!reader 👑

Thranduil gets his hair braided and thinks too much.

warnings/tags: bittersweet, more fluff tho, swf, King Thranduil needs a break

words: 1,9k

an: this is a gift for the lovely @tigereyesf who always comments on my posts on ao3 🤍 the lyrics are from Noah Kahans song "Your needs, my needs'

+ masterlist +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

Thranduil understands that permitting you to be near him might not be wise. It could very well rank among the least advisable decisions he's made in ages.

But he did, he invited you again and again, sending horses and carriages to transport you ever since he found out you traveled all the way from Dale by yourself whenever he sent a letter.

Until he didn't need to anymore.

Not because you wouldn't come, but because you didn't leave.

Never in a million years would anyone have guessed that the stoic Elvenking would invite a human to his palace on more occasions than his own kind and surely no one would have ever thought that he would start courting them.

Yet here he was, sitting in one of his many blooming gardens, swatting away the hand that was currently trying to gather his hair.

"Stop this," Thranduil's stern voice would've had any other shiver in fear of losing their head, though it only makes you giggle.

"Please, let me braid it again," you stable yourself with your hands on his shoulders and lean over, chest pressed against his strong back.

"No, you little nuisance. I shall not! You know of the meeting I will attend later, we do not have the time."

Even though he can't see your face, he knows you roll your eyes at him, he can feel it in the huff you let out before letting go of him. The warmth of your body disappears as you stand up from the bench and throw one challenging look over your shoulder.

Thranduil watches how you lift the skirts of the gown you're wearing, the finest of silks that you've adorned with little handmade bows from the village, and flop down into the grass. There is not one care on your face that the hems will surely stain and that there are perfectly suitable marmor benches all over the garden and only one of those occupied by Thranduil himself.

You seem to ignore them every time you two spend time out here, he noticed you are much more content with your naked feet buried in the high grass and your hair intertwined with the flowers that grow here.

At first, he couldn't understand the fascination you harbored with nature.

Of course, he had a deep appreciation for the forest surrounding his kingdom, the strong resistance of the trees had been an inspiration for the winding halls, the water flowing through the roots and gifting life and the ever so steady wind reminded someone who lived a thousand years that some things, though they change, never completely disappear.

You, on the other hand, could not be separated from nature in any way whatsoever. There had been the flowers, first only on your side of the bed when he'd invited you to sleep next to him, and one day he woke up to find a vase filled with Astilbe flowers on his nightstand and on his vanity as well.

You also spend most of your day either wandering through the woods (which left him restless and worried until you accepted the sword he had his blacksmith forge for you) or meeting him here in the gardens. He would never tell you but before you, he hadn't walked or maker-forbid, sat there for decades.

Now, he found himself soaking sunshine more days than not, reading Elvish poetry to you while you rested curled into his side with one of his hands brushing your hair, or, chasing you on his Elk through the forest, following the sound of your horse and your laughter.

Your infatuation with nature and the stubbornness of pulling him along made him fall for you, deeply and most ardently and he knew that one day he would need to survive the sight of forests and gardens and flowers without the urge to burn them to the ground for outliving you.

As he watches you examine the colorful flowers and gather them in your lap, he isn't sure if he will be able to contain that anger against the gods if the time comes.

You are oblivious to the dark clouds hanging onto his thoughts, he makes sure that you'll never see the heartbreak he lives through while loving you because he knows, he knows that you would do everything in your power to make him happy.

This is who you are, a human that lives and loves and pours all that you are into those around you, he sees it in the gentleness of your hands cupping the flowers before plucking them, in the way your tongue learned a new language for you wouldn't accept not studying it for an answer if you lived here.

You live to love and love to live.

Thranduil shifts, forgetting that there are guards stationed around the gardens who could see their King doing the unthinkable but he doesn't care.

Not with you sitting a few feet away from him, your dress spilled around you, a full smile on your face as you collect the flowers growing there for you, their little heads turning to you as if you are the sun for them as well, and not just for Thranduil.

If you notice him standing up, you give no sign, you don't even stop humming, and the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth at this stubbornness is far too strong to stop it.

"Melethril nîn," he says quietly and his shadow falls over your body. The symbolism and fear of him taking away the sun from you has him clench his jaw. His pain is impatient as if it doesn't know he's going to live longer than he wants to and that it has all the time to break him down.

He quickly shuts those thoughts away behind the sight of you tipping your head back to smirk at him.

This is not the time to dwell on the future, not if he can exist in the moments he shares with you instead of fearing the time when he'll have to think back on them.

"Don't tell me you missed me," you tease.

He scoffs and –surprising you enough to let out a squeak– lowers himself onto his knees next to you.

Eye to eye, he feels much more comfortable, despite the stains that he knows now graze his robes.

"You know," he starts and lets his gaze wander over the flowers in your lap, however, you managed to collect this many of them in such a short time awes him, "the meeting can wait."

You catch onto the meaning instantly, your eyes lightening up even more. The golden rays of the setting sun reflect in them and he reaches forward to cup your face in the palm of his hand and gently leans towards you, capturing your lips in a long kiss that has you gasping.

"Now," Thranduil swipes his thumb over your lower lip, as you separate, tugging playfully at it and giving into another kiss before he continues, "Have your way with my hair, my love. I know you did not collect those flowers for any other reason."

You gasp ingeniously. "You are by far the wisest Elf I've ever met," you say and scoot –maker, he makes a note to get another dress just like this made because surely this will be ruined by the time you leave the gardens– behind his back.

While you gather his hair in your hands, this time without him trying to stop you but relaxing into the soft tugging, you mumble: "So wise, they should make you King."

He chuckles at that. "Ah, but I would need a Queen by my side. Do you know where one could find on–ahhh," his teasing words get swallowed by a sigh as your fingers collect some fine hairs on the side of his head and surely completely on accident run over the shell of his ear to the delicate tip.

"Ooops," you sing and just as his body calms, you repeat the action, even have the gall to scratch the skin with your nails and he melts into a puddle.

His ears burn, not just the one your breath hits but the other one as well and he can feel the blood shoot into his face as well, crumbling the stoic and straight-laced composure of the King who is already on his knees.

"You witch," he presses out between his clenched teeth and hears you giggle. "I should have never told you about that," he murmurs more to himself, trying to regulate his heart beating inside his chest like a wild rabbit on the loose.

You laugh once, a "Pah!" while you tug on his hair, "You didn't tell me," you say and he feels something get pushed inside the braid you are working on, "I found out all by myself."

Thinking back to the night that started this completely outrageous behavior trait of you fiddling with his ears whenever he doesn't pay you enough attention or he says something that teases you a bit too much, he can't tell if you are right or him.

A few years ago he would have shut you down completely because the King would never be wrong but now he grumbles under his breath, agreeing that you must be correct.

Then again, there are many new things that you brought into his life.

He laughs more freely, and not just out of spite of viciously.

He cares more, for you, for his son, for nature and sometimes even for the dwarfs he trades with.

He is formed by you, shaped by your untamable ways of never letting a rainy day ruin your mood.

He is nothing but wax in your hands.

Here, sitting in the gardens and letting you weave flowers in his precious hair, he is no King, he is just a soul yearning for your touch, a flower reaching to bloom in your golden light.

Thranduil's eyes flutter shut as you braid and weave and run your hands over his scalp and through his hair.

He may have fallen asleep, lulled into a trance by the warm sun caressing his face and your voice humming a melody as sweet as any words that you speak, because when you let go of the delicate braids and let them fall into the rest of his hair, he opens his eyes to a pink and purple sunset.

The birds sing their last song and the trees rustle, shaking their branches and leaves as if they would ready themselves for the animals coming to rest in them.

There is a pleasantly chilled breeze that comes with nightfall, one that brings the smell of flowers and grass.

"There," you press a gentle kiss to the skin right behind his left ear, "all done."

For a moment Thranduil is disappointed that you are finished but then he turns to find your smile and all is right.

"Thank you, meldanya," he says, already closing in to express his gratitude with a soft kiss.

You nudge your nose against his, eyes shut in contentment. "Thank you, for letting me. Le ni meleth," you say quietly.

"Always," Thranduil's gaze wanders over you, bathed in rosé and golden hues, the cheeks flushed from the air, your hair wild and untamed, and flowers all over your lap. He grabs a few of them, inspecting the stems and probing them with his sharp nails.

"Let me repay the favor," he effortlessly lifts you, smiling wide at the laugh bursting out of you as he sets you between his legs and onto his robes.

"I want my Queen to wear a fitting crown."

[ghostfacd]

fratboy!luke who..

- looks like he doesn’t wanna be at any of the functions but he still def parties his ass off

- definitely did those pledgetok tiktoks

- sighs whenever his frat bro does something dumb like a very loud face palm

- when he fucks up he texts u “i sincerely apologize to my beautiful sexy girlfriend, pls forgive me”

- when you don’t pull up to any of his frat’s events he’s asking the president if he really has to go

- “do i really tho josh? it’s just one event. my girlfriend wont even be there!”

- shrugs off any sorority girl who tries to flirt with him

- “uh i have a girlfriend.”

- when he’s drunk, he’s probably showing the girls who are trying to get w him pictures from his photo album labeled “my pretty gf” and that backs them right off

- everytime he’s hungover, he goes to the McDonald’s near his uni and eat 10 hash browns and 1 McMuffin 😭

- how did he meet you… funny story actually 😓

- luke did those tiktoks where they’d knock on random people’s dorm doors and throw a football and catch it and be like “u ladies alright?”

- well funny story actually: luke’s friend, luca, actually threw the football at luke’s stomach when you opened your door and he tumbled back and fell onto you

- so i guess you can say he fell for you? HHAHA get it… okay.

- luca never lets luke live that down because he’s like “nah uh you cant be mad at me cause im the one who helped you get a girlfriend in the first place.”

[pierofilm]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[chocosvt]

HER | part six (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.6k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s! 

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that! 

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

here it is... the FINAL part 😭 it seemed that a number of you were quite worried as to how i'd wrap this up, and i can finally give you the answer! :3 this has been an epic journey. thank yew for ur time 💕

more rambling continues at the very end. as per usual. again, a little bit more of an early upload! as a treat <3

⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—SEPTEMBER 30TH.

The morning after was strange.

Early sunlight permeated through the living room’s white cloth curtains, dappling in water-like speckles against the glasses still held on his nose. For a moment, Wonwoo was frozen, as his mind made the shift from deep sleep to consciousness, though when he finally did awaken to find his blanket half-pushed off the recliner and the remnants of Chinese takeout left scattered across the coffee table, his lethargy started fading.

Vernon was gone.

Judging from the text on Wonwoo’s phone, the boy had quietly made his way out at around seven in the morning. It surprised Wonwoo to no end that Vernon could manage to sleep so little yet remain fully functional all the time. He seemed magic—or maybe it was something else that Wonwoo would be concerned to know about.

He spent some time cleaning off the coffee table.

Down the hall, his bedroom door remained closed.

When you finally did emerge, it was with the olive-green dress draped over your arm and the ivory heels in hand, which you proceeded to arrange on the small dining table by the kitchen.

Notably, however, there was something off about you, something that Wonwoo interpreted as nerves with an underlying awkwardness you didn’t typically, if at all, demonstrate. When he asked if you wanted breakfast and tea, your response was a tiny head shake and a poorly fit smile. Though, Wonwoo wasn’t going to paw at you.

He found that mornings always tended to be quite sobering, even if he hadn’t exactly drunk enough to make the room spin or swallowed some colourfully disguised pill on his tongue. Just the air was enough to rewire his head—that cooler, crisp air that he either loved or hated.

Undoubtedly, you had much to think about.

Wonwoo helped you get a hold of Princess using his phone, and the two of you watched television in silence while waiting for her to pick you up. He escorted you down through the pottery shop when it was time, and you sported very little shame, walking out onto the bright city sidewalk in just his t-shirt, clothes and shoes wrapped in your arms. Princess had this awfully perplexed look slapped onto her face while leaning over to nudge the car door open for you, and in that  moment, Wonwoo was scared of how it all appeared and what might transpire now that the giddiness and frivolity from the night before had ebbed away. He didn’t regret anything, though. Not at all.

But, in truth, what the fuck even were you two?

And what was supposed to happen now?

—OCTOBER 3RD.  

Since you had left his apartment in a daze that Saturday morning, Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from you. It was concerning him as time passed, he couldn’t deny it, but he also trusted you and wanted not to make you feel pressured into explaining yourself.

He was caught in a brisk walk along campus after leaving his early lecture, a warm coffee cup pressed against his lip that he had grabbed from the ground floor of SRX—they had been giving hot drinks away for free, and, consequently, it tasted like it. Nonetheless, the air was chillier by the day as autumn pushed its way in and decorated the walkway with dry leaves that rustled and crunched under his shoes. It was nice to have something hot in his hand.

He took a second to glance down at his phone.

Still, no messages from you, Wonwoo realized with a suckling sip of the very watery coffee, nearly tempted to text you himself—not anything pushy—just a simple reassurance that he was there for you if things weren’t going well.

Suddenly, however, Wonwoo had smacked into someone.

“Fuck—sorry,” he muttered, readjusting the computer bag slung over his shoulder and pushing up his circled glasses.

To Wonwoo’s complete and utter misery, he was unfortunately acquainted with the person he’d bumped shoulders, and now he was wishing that he had just kept walking like an impatient asshole.

Seokmin was standing before him, dressed in a similar-style woolen trench coat that his hands were stuffed into, the sun turning certain threads of his chocolate brown hair all shimmery. He hadn’t gotten back to Seokmin’s numerous texts ever since Wonwoo sent a brief, very purposefully vague message to the boy that night he ran out with you at the dinner party.

Now he was wondering if the shoulder bump was intentional.

“Wonwoo… uh, hey,” Seokmin stumbled.

Sniffling, Wonwoo let a second or two pass before answering.

He was still debating whether or not to walk away.

“What’s up?”

“You just get out of class, or?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah—advanced stats.”

Seokmin flitted a barely-there smile, staring at his coffee cup.

“Is that the free stuff from SRX?”

“Indeed.”

“How does it taste?”

“Uh, watery… like shit, basically.”

Wonwoo knew—he fucking knew—that there was something buzzing on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue that he just couldn’t spit out. His absentminded expression and clear not-giving-a-damness about whether Wonwoo’s free coffee was actually good completely betrayed him. Not wanting to dawdle and get stuck in the mud of conversation, Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, flashed his friend a tight-lipped smile, and pitched a goodbye, blandly wording it as, “I won’t keep you. Later.”

But Seokmin didn’t seem prepared to let that happen.

And Wonwoo’s eyes nearly rolled backward into his skull when the boy turned around and attempted to catch his attention again.

For some stupid, incomprehensible reason, Wonwoo stopped.

Maybe he knew the conversation needed to happen.

It only made him loathe the situation more.

“Yeah?”

Seokmin dragged a hand through his hair, brushing it up and down against the back of his head while he squinted at Wonwoo.

“I think… uh… if you’re not busy… I think there’s maybe some stuff we need to talk about. I don’t mean to like, catch you at a bad time or anything… do you wanna go sit at the picnic table over there?”

At Seokmin’s carefully suggested inquiry, Wonwoo followed the boy’s pointing finger toward the empty table placed on the large grass circle that the walkway wove around. With his grip hardening into the coffee cup, Wonwoo stopped to think despite knowing his answer.

“Okay… yeah.”

Wonwoo realized it had never felt this weird and stilted to sit down with Seokmin despite him being quite a reliable friend over the months, though Wonwoo was developing the sneaking feeling that his study buddy was about to deal an irreparable blow to their relationship. Seokmin’s folded hands were sitting atop the flecked, aged wood of the table, thumbs nervously twiddling, meanwhile Wonwoo remained silent to sip from his coffee that only became more and more tasteless.

Eventually, his friend seemed to find the words he needed.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but… Her and Mingyu are taking a break. They’re officially pressing the big pause button. I wasn’t there to witness the conversation, although I get the gist it was a pretty… uh, unpleasant talk,” Seokmin winced, bracing his teeth, “and… well, naturally, I learned that you were a big part of that talk, seeing how it looked and all—you and Her running out at the dinner party…”

He left what seemed like a purposeful pause, and Wonwoo assumed that he was supposed to feel pressured and jump to make a correction or provide an explanation, but he kept silent and rather expressionless. Ironically, Seokmin was the one to continue his spiel.

“Well, basically, there were some accusations thrown around as you can imagine. And I’m not sitting here to point a finger and question you to death about everything, but I just thought I’d give you the table—uh, literally—to explain what’s been happening.”

Wonwoo finally set aside his drink, then shifting off the strap to his computer bag, letting it fall down his shoulder. He didn’t make a huge, overwhelmed sigh even though his body was screaming for it, nor did he ponder abandoning the conversation despite the magnitude of everything Seokmin laid out for him.

Fuck—he hated being matured.

“I can’t speak on her feelings. But I like her.”

“Oh—you do?” Seokmin was astonishingly surprised.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So, then, does that mean—”

“Actually, sorry, I’m downplaying it like a coward,” Wonwoo interrupted, shaking his head, “I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.”

It was then that Seokmin simply didn’t speak at all. His mouth had formed a hollowed shape, resembling something like a gulping fish, and Wonwoo capitalized on the silence to keep his thoughts fluent.

“I understand, okay? I understand why Mingyu is pissed. It takes two to tango, I get all that. And I know you probably want me to state my regret and all that so I don’t seem like such an asshole, but, honestly, I don’t really regret anything. Mingyu doesn’t care about her.”

Seokmin chuffed, rubbing at his chin. “Okay… I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that in particular. But you are admitting to it? I don’t know what it is you’ve done but you’ve done things with Her.”

“We’ve never had sex if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And—”

“We’ve never kissed, either… the only thing I was supposed to do was help her write that little love story. Which you set up, by the way. I didn’t know it would turn into this. I tried to get out of it.”

“I never thought she would stick it out.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sucked in his bottom lip, staring across the weathered wood at Seokmin. “You probably wanted her to drop it the second she mentioned it. I bet Mingyu thought the same.”

Seokmin scrunched up his face in disagreement. “That’s not necessarily true. She just fixates on stuff and then burns out after. She's always been like that, ever since I've known her. I figured the book would be no different. I thought it was something she needed to get out of her system, I didn’t think it would start rolling and—” he leaned forward into his palms for a moment, swallowing audibly. “Sorry, I just—I don’t get it, that’s all. I don’t get her fixations.”

“I think you’re just uncomfortable with her self-expression.”

“She—it’s not self-expression, though. Look, I know a pinch of what her story is about. It’s not about herself. It’s about Mingyu.”

“You think that just because she’s writing about someone else, there’s no pieces of herself in it? Her own feelings? Her own perspective? C’mon, Seokmin. You’re fucking smarter than that. You know what it's actually about.”

His friend’s eyes drifted away from him.  

Wonwoo then cleared his throat. “Look, you don’t really need all the details, Seokmin. Like I said, I don’t know exactly how she feels about me. I can surmise. I can say we���ve had moments that we shouldn’t. But—genuinely—you probably know more than I do and you’re lying to yourself if you can’t realize that Mingyu is just some advantageous prick who makes her miserable.”

“Well, I think that—I don’t know if it’s really—”

“He walked into an opportunity with her and he knew it. His whole fucking life and career was basically set up for him the second he met her family. He’s beyond lucky Her ever looked his way.”

“Jeez, Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s not like that.”

“How is it not?”

Seokmin ran a hand through his hair, appearing flustered and without a tongue to make sense. “Just—okay—I’ve been around them a lot. I know how it seems from an outsider’s view. They can argue and push buttons. Their relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? Mingyu didn’t just walk into the family asking for this and that—he’s never asked for anything, no handouts. Everything that’s been ‘set up’ for him was because Her’s family wanted it. They know he’s a good guy.”

The scoff shot from Wonwoo’s mouth like an arrow. “I’m sorry but, what do they want for Her? Were we at the same dinner party? Did you see her nearly burst into tears? She has to live life in this rigid box, trying to conform to everyone else around her. Don’t you think she wants to live her own life? Be her own person?”

“Of course, but—”

“No—why is there even a ‘but’?”

“I don’t think you understand. Her has everything she needs.”

“You mean, what everyone thinks she needs.” Wonwoo tossed his hand up in the air, laughing, while also getting the strong impulse to ring out his friend’s neck. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you be so close to her, but you don’t realize how unhappy she is? You know what I think? You’re part of it, Seokmin. You're always in her business, hovering, watching, sewing seeds of doubt, shooting down her interests—and you disguise it as help. No one in that house listens to her. They’ve told her who she should be instead of letting her figure it out for herself. How can you be so complicit in that? She gets no support from any of you, about the decisions in her life that actually matter. And Mingyu—honestly, he can go fuck himself. He’s just as complicit as you. He’s soul-sucking.”

“God—sh-she’s an adult.” Seokmin was exasperated, his cheeks reddening like two ripe apples. “She doesn’t have to visit her parents. She doesn’t have to date Mingyu. Nothing is forced on her. No one is dragging her there. I help because I know what she's capable of. I know the perfect life she can have. Her parents know, too. But she just gets sidetracked! She gets wrapped up in stuff that doesn't matter! If she hates everything, she can easily walk away.”

“But you guys have made that so impossible for her.”

“How?”

Wonwoo proceeded to clench his fist up so tight he thought his skin might bleed, the edge of his knuckles pressing down on the table.

“She doesn’t know who the fuck she is.”

Seokmin instantly paled. He looked whiter than a snowflake.

“That’s like clipping a bird’s wings and then asking why it can’t fly away. Knowing who you are is such a big part of life. It’s arguably the foundation. What the fuck do you want her to do? I don’t even—I honestly don’t even want to look at you, Seokmin. Let Mingyu beat me up if he wants to—let it happen a thousand times—” slinging the computer bag back over his shoulder, Wonwoo was rising from the picnic table while glaring down at the stiff, empty-faced Seokmin, who had suddenly morphed from a friend to a bitter stranger, “—I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not going to change how I feel about her, or make me stay away. I’ve seen who she can be and what she actually wants from life, and it's not some snotty, vapid, copy-and-paste hell that her parents are forcing on her. But neither of you seem to give a shit. You’re both completely undeserving.”

Stepping away from the bench, Wonwoo tensed his jaw as the sunlight splashed over him, breaking in between the skeletal trees and their resilient orange leaves. “Got everything you wanted to know? Go run it back to Mingyu. I’m sure that’s what you were gonna do anyway.”

The anger in his chest felt like it was going to crawl out from his mouth and squeeze Seokmin into a ball, therefore Wonwoo exercised his breathing while on a strict path back down the walkway.

Abandoning Seokmin did hurt him more than he had thought, knowing he just lost a friend from his already very limited circle, someone whom he clicked with so readily. At the same time, however, there was a lightness about it. As Wonwoo’s frustration seeped out during the walk back to his apartment, some of the weight pressed into his shoulders released itself like water evaporating from a blacktop.

He just wished he could be at your side more than anything.

There was obviously a reason for your silence.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I heard about the break.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I’m here if you need anything at all.

…

[ Her | 4:05 pm ]: you talked to seokmin?

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: Yeah. Never again.

[ Her | 4:07 pm ]: mingyu is so mad

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: I figure.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: please avoid him if you can. i’m worried

[ Wonwoo | 4:08 pm ]: I’m not.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: wonwoo he’s seriously pissed

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: can’t you hang out with vernon some more

[ Wonwoo | 4:09 pm ]: Seriously?

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: yes

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: mingyu got into trouble with dots and had a real big scare. so he doesn’t like to mess much with him or his friends. he'll showboat but that's about it

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: well ik dots died but u get the point

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: Fair.

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: But I can’t just pull Vernon around as my Mingyu repellent lol. Honestly, if he wants to rock me, idc.

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: well I do care

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: ugh

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: life has been sucking so hard lately

[ Wonwoo | 4:11 pm ]: I want to come see you.

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: I want that too. but I need more time, k?

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: I know.

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: Here if you need me.

—OCTOBER 18TH.

For the past two weeks, Wonwoo had been walking around with the looming possibility of getting jumped by your six-foot tall, rather muscley boyfriend, and he was thus very relieved to have made it this far without eating a fist to the face. Well, now Mingyu was an ex.

Maybe.

The pause in your relationship read like a gray area that Wonwoo had been treading the thinnest eggshells on, prompting him to wait and hear the truth from you directly whenever you felt steady enough to tell him. He wondered if today might be that day.

Placing another strawberry onto the cutting board, Wonwoo chopped his knife through the leafy green bit, removing the stem. The cleaned-up strawberry was then dropped into a bowl of fresh ones that you had been picking away at for the past few minutes or so.

Wonwoo smiled while grabbing another berry to cut.

“I feel like this bowl hasn’t gotten any fuller, for some reason.”

Your legs were swinging as you sat atop the small kitchen island while looking down at his every movement with the knife. Once he  dropped another cut strawberry into the bowl, you scooped it out.

“Just making sure they don’t go bad,” you responded, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “The fruit you buy usually goes bad within the minute? Are you getting into a fist fight with it?”

You poked at his hip with your socked foot. “Well, you said you were cutting it for me. So can I eat it or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“No, of course you can eat it. I’m just teasing.”

“I don’t do too well with delayed gratification.”

Wonwoo smiled at you, proceeding to remove the last few strawberries from the basket to cleanly dissect their stems. He then turned around, tossing the cutting board and knife into the stainless-steel sink with a clatter. After washing his hands, he was back at the island, noticing that the bowl was now seated in your lap like a bag of movie theatre popcorn with just the perfect amount of butter and salt. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything—that focused look to your face as you ate the fruit he prepared was much too captivating. He wanted to catch one of your swinging legs, pull you right to the counter’s very edge and have you wrap yourself around him. He wanted everything with you.

In your earlier days together, Wonwoo used to be a lot more evasive about his staring (at least, that’s what he wanted to believe), but now he didn’t feel as required to be so painfully subtle and imperceptible about things. He let you snack until you were satisfied, the empty bowl then being exchanged with a damp rag to clean your fingers.

“So,” clearing his throat, Wonwoo braced his hands against the granite island and glanced at you from behind his glasses, scanning down the unbothered, relatively straight face you had, “everything going okay?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded, making only an “mhm” sound that didn’t leave much to be interpreted.

Wonwoo saw the hands that plunged swiftly between your thighs, how you were quick to squeeze around them, like there existed something weighted and hidden.

He wanted to leave it up to your discretion—he really did.

“Okay, that’s good… just—uh, he’s not giving you a hard time, right? He’s not bothering you at all?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting the rim of the black beanie he’d thrown on to keep his messy hair tucked back. “I don’t mean to disinter anything. I’m only asking because I—”

“Because you care,” you finished his sentence quietly with a trusting and faint smile, “I know. Thank you. It is hard for me, though… I don’t know why this particular thing is so hard but it is.”

Wonwoo slid his hands together, moving them slow along the cold granite. “No… that’s understandable. I get it plenty.” Hell—he didn’t just get it—Wonwoo had miserably and insufferably lived it for damn near a year at that point. In fact, tomorrow would mark the day that he came home to this same apartment only to discover the interior stripped of all the traces, sentiments, and artifacts that breathed miraculous life into the girl he once thought to be his other half.

A whole fucking year without Jeanie.

How flipped things were. How oddly coincidental that he was now in the same space but with a new person to create everlasting memories. You had the most opposite personality and spark.

Wonwoo sighed. He got close to you, settling his hand atop your knee before gliding it underneath your thigh, gripping at you firmly and pulling you forward until he was bracketed in between your legs. Your response was smitten, and he couldn’t deny that he loved to practically see your heart beating under your chest in addition to sensing the warmth that flourished off your skin like you were sizzling in a pan.

Wonwoo set one hand down on the counter, right next to your hip, while the other tended to the side of your face, his fingers running behind your ear and down the slender path to your silk-smooth neck.

“Look…” he breathed out, finding your eyes that were now a bit watery and tinged with stinging emotion, “I know it’s hard. And I would never rush you into figuring things out… but I like you…” Wonwoo swallowed, letting his thumb play with your earring meanwhile his deep voice triggered the sharp, raised hairs spreading down your arms like an electric current, “I love spending time with you—even just being in the same room as you, getting to stare at you—but I just—when I don’t know what you are to Mingyu, I don’t know what to do with us.”

You drew in an immediate breath, then releasing a quiet laugh mixed with a runny sniffle. “I-It seems like you know…”

He pushed both his hands into the countertop, smiling at you.

“Well, I know what I want to do…” Wonwoo murmured, gazing so intimately into your eyes as the oceans he urged to drown in, “but you have to understand my reservations about it. That’s all.”

Bringing a pinky finger to your mouth to nibble on, you nodded.

Softly, he pinched the bare expanse of your waist. You gasped.

“Because I do, in fact, want you.”

You didn’t say anything, although Wonwoo noted that you were staring back into his gaze with so many hues of simple human emotion pulsating behind your eyes—there was frustration, possibly at yourself and everything you couldn’t yet communicate, and twinkles of impulse that matched rhythm with your heart. Then, employing unforeseen abruptness, your fingers were running down the back of his neck all ticklish and he felt the warmth from your breath feather his lips as you moved in closer, smirking at him, hazy like a sunrise pouring its light through a thick cover of morning fog.

“If you can be patient for just a little longer, you'll have all of me.”

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully judging from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hedonistic, addictive sort of way) there were a few knocks at his door.

Your eyes rolled. “Is that your landlord or something?”

Wonwoo took a step back, letting you slide off the countertop while he adjusted his glasses and brushed down his t-shirt. How were you suddenly so casual? One second you were chewing nervously on your finger with the timidness of a newborn doe and the next—back to your typical self. He watched you approach the door, tilting his head.

“Uh, maybe? She usually texts me, though.”

“Or Seokmin with a batch of chocolate apology brownies.”

He chuckled, folding his arms. “Doubt it.”

Really, Wonwoo had no idea who it could be. It possibly was his landlord who had perhaps forgotten her usual warning text, or maybe his younger, sometimes irresponsible neighbour across the hall who would specifically ask to borrow his scent-free laundry detergent every now and then. As long as it wasn’t Lady Liberty on the other side (in Vernon’s tried and true nicknaming spirit) then Wonwoo had no reason to care.

“Welp,” you made a balmy, popping sound with your lips, “only one way to find out. I think I can smell the chocolate.” But once the door was pulled open, that little joking smile fell from your face concerningly fast, as though someone had plucked it right off.

Fuck—Wonwoo thought right off the cuff—it was Lady Liberty.

Your head quirked ever so slightly. “Uh, hello…”

Whoever the person was, they were just outside the threshold of what Wonwoo could see from his spot in the kitchen—except, now he didn’t think it was Mingyu at all, since your tone seemed more confused than anything else.

For a moment, Wonwoo just stood where he was, not particularly understanding why he couldn’t even twitch a measly finger.

“Hi—I’m sorry, is this the—is this—does Wonwoo still live here?”

From across the room, you shifted him a glance.

There was a heavy pause before you answered.

“… Yeah.”

“O-Oh, well… um… I’m so sorry, but are you living here as well? Is he home? I don’t mean to bother or anything. I guess I came by on a whim. It’s a little hard to explain… I can always come back later.”

At that point, Wonwoo was making his way beside you.

That voice—that delicate wispy voice, lighter than a tuft of cotton adrift through the breeze under a salt blue sky—there was such a familiarity about it that he was getting dizzier by the second. Your jaw was distinctly clenched as Wonwoo stopped at your side.

He took one look into the hallway and damn near fainted.

“What the fuck…” Wonwoo whispered, his mouth suddenly stark of moisture as he lifted a hand to grab the door’s edge, “Jeanie?”

“Uh, hey, Wonwoo.”

Wait—never mind, never mind—he panicked. Maybe he did want it to be Mingyu. In fact, Wonwoo would have anticipated Bohyuk showing up outside his door, or his parents, or his girlfriend of two weeks back in sixth grade who broke up with him over a juice box before he could guess that his ex who disappeared without a trace would be there.

It sounded borderline insane, but Wonwoo almost wanted to poke her just to test if she was even real. She looked real. She sounded real. You didn’t seem to be staring into empty space while side-eyeing him worriedly, rather you had very much acknowledged her. Wonwoo’s grip fastened to the door, then realizing he was using it as a personal crutch to keep him upright as his legs slowly regained their rigidity and strength. He also realized that you likely had no idea who she was until her name had been distantly tugged from his lips by his instincts.

Jeanie splayed out her hands in a demonstration of submission.

“If it’s a bad time, I can come back later…”

Wonwoo noted that you had taken a step away from the door, although you continued to stare at Jeanie with a countenance that refused to spoil much—it seemed inquisitive and curious but still hardened—the moment was probably overwhelming you, too.

He gulped dryly, flicking his eyes back to her. “Uh, well, I wasn’t even—you’re like, the last person I would expect to see and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll leave.”

Jerking back to you, Wonwoo nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Her—you don’t need to—”

But you shook your head.

Grabbing the cream purse off the couch and slipping back into your comfortable, clean white tennis shoes, you seemed eager to go while simultaneously jaded at the circumstances.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you stopped in front of Wonwoo, adjusting the strap wove around your shoulder, “this seems important, so… I don’t want to stand in the way of anything… I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Then, you turned to Jeanie, sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She looked to Wonwoo for a split second.

“Um, yeah, you as well…” Jeanie eventually accepted the handshake, sounding breathy with nerves, “sorry about all this.”

While making your way to the staircase, Wonwoo quickly stepped into the corridor and waved at you, feeling his chest tighten.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

You flashed a transient smile. He hated watching you leave.

Jeanie was watching you, too, hands politely folded at her abdomen, bunny rabbit teeth digging at the skin of her ruby-stained and calloused lips. She had always been a chronic lip-biter—anxiety, thrill, or stress, Wonwoo vividly remembered the blisters she absentmindedly inflicted unto herself from the bad habit, similar to the scars marking the cuticle of his thumb. After a year Jeanie looked different no doubt, but she also reflected an unchanged image through her conserved, fidgety behaviours. She was shy like a budding flower kept just short of the sun.

“Are you okay if I come in?” Jeanie mumbled, hardly able to maintain eye contact with Wonwoo for no more than a second or two.

He stepped back, beckoning indoors.

“Yeah… that’s fine, I guess.”

“Looks pretty nice in here…” she remarked soft-spokenly, taking a moment to marvel the space she once came home to every day, although she couldn’t seem more like a stranger to the apartment even if she tried—like a magazine cutout slapped onto a novel.

Wonwoo rubbed under his nose. “Well… I make due.”

Her hair used to be a symmetric, blunt length with her chin, but she had clearly grown it out over the months. The black tresses thrived in long and loose ribbons down her back, shinier than sea glass polished by rough waves. She was never one to wear much makeup either—trimming her eyebrows, glossing her lips, and flicking on some mascara was all she really ever cared to do, and Wonwoo remembered being in love with her simplicity.

Jeanie proceeded to walk behind the couch, squeezing the back in her hands. She was so tiny. That hadn’t changed much. He could only stand in one place, keeping still, examining her every movement and fighting against the trillions of voices clawing to his mind’s surface.

“Feels strange to be in here,” she laughed, running her fingers along the couch’s fabric, staring around the space, “I think it definitely has more of your touch now… it was nice to see Saskia again, too.”

“Yeah.”

She stopped on him. “You look well. Healthy.”

Wonwoo squinted at her. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t say it in a rude, impatient way. Genuinely, Wonwoo wasn’t angry with her, not like he might have been a few months ago.

But he was confused and feeling increasingly anxious. You were gone, probably on your way back home, though Wonwoo wished you hadn’t left at all, even if it were to make things sticky and awkward. Your presence in a room was the comfort he badly, painfully missed.

“Sure,” Jeanie cleared her throat, “I’ll explain. Care to sit?”

Together, they nestled onto the couch.

Wonwoo was kept to one end while Jeanie sat more in the middle, pulling at the long, flowy hem of her fern-patterned blue dress.

He tugged at the rim to his beanie, waiting for her to speak.

The girl gripped onto her knees, poised a soft, gentle look in his direction while taking in a breath. Their nerves seemed to be coalescing like different colours bleeding from freshly soaked paintbrushes. If anxiety were personified into butterflies, the room would start fluttering.

“I guess I thought it was time. Taking a shot in the dark, I know. I didn’t know if you would still be here, but I got lucky…” she clutched at her dress, fingers pulling into the airy material. “Wonwoo, it’s not like I don’t think about you, or wonder about you. I know what I did, how much it hurt… then I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back to here, with you. But I processed it all and it became an itch I had to scratch.”

Puffing out through his nose, Wonwoo almost laughed.

“Yeah—you wanted to see if I, what? Threw myself off the building or persevered, becoming some big money writer?”

Jeanie blinked at him a few times, furrowing her neat, straight brow, with every hair gelled down perfectly in place.

Wonwoo shook his head, lifting out his hand.

“Okay, my bad. That sounded like such an asshole thing to say.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Her cheeks flooded with a tide of rosy pink as she chuckled. “I-I just… well, you seem different now.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Jeanie clasped her hands together, thumbs tapping.

“Well, I guess you seem more... upfront, not as prevaricating. Maybe that’s how you’ve always been and I just never really saw it or you picked it up from someone else.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

“I am sorry. I know it was all so… sudden. I know this is sudden. I thought about calling... my hands would just shake so much whenever I picked up the phone, getting all sweaty and stuff. It felt like something that I had to just do. And, well, once I was back in the area, I didn’t even want to lend myself time to dwell. I only came in yesterday.”

“You went back home, then?”

“I did.”

“I figured… well, I got the hint pretty clear when your mom sent me that email. It was only a sentence or two long, but it hurt like hell.”

“It’s what I asked her to send. It’s all I felt you needed to know.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jeanie sighed, “I feel warranted in what I did… even so, I-I think I owe you an apology. Because, well, you were and still are someone I regard highly. You were going through something pretty serious… I mean, it’s obvious you’re taking such better care of yourself.”

 “It definitely hasn’t been linear.”

Tucking some hair behind her ear, the girl smiled. “Well, what in life really is? It only feels that way when you’re going straight down.”

He hmphed, thinking. “… Yeah. Really though, don’t worry about it. An apology isn’t necessary. You’ve always been too gracious.”

“I-I guess… but, I think it is, since—”

“Jeanie, c’mon. It’s really not. I was dragging you down.”

“Wonwoo, I feel like—”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, I’m telling you and it would mean a lot if you just let me speak and get this off my chest. Please. Then you can have the floor. Tell me to package it all back up. Whatever it is you have to say. But I spent our entire relationship just listening and trying to understand you and interpret all your vague signals when I should have been trying to understand myself, and what I wanted. I’m not the verbose type, I know that. Going off on longwinded tangents about my feelings has never been something that suits me but I’m here now and I owe it to the girl who just sucked it all up, all the time, trying to be this perfect girlfriend for you.”

He managed a long, introspective breath.

Fuck—he really did owe her that. He owed her so much more.

“… Okay,” Wonwoo nodded complicity, “you’re right.”

“Leaving was the very last thing I wanted. I swear it. I agonized over the choice every day. But you didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew it was more than bad, and whatever it was you were going through was just pulling you down so deep, like a whirlpool. It’s like… I would talk to you, and there was no one inside. When I felt like you needed space, I gave you space. When I felt like you had something hard to say, I would sit with you all day, trying to ease it out, waiting for you to say it.

When you seemed so angry at yourself and everything around you—I-I don’t know—I tried to be the best thing for you. But I was hitting wall after wall. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was my fault. If I had just been upfront about my feelings then maybe things would have been… well, you know, different. I guess I never did say much because it seemed like the last thing you needed to hear, like I would be adding to your already massive collection of burdens. You have to understand, I felt trapped, Wonwoo. Like I was in a glass box or something.

I was decaying from the inside out. If I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make that split second decision to phone up my mom and tell her everything that morning you left for work—then maybe we would have gotten even worse. Maybe we would have just drowned. I don’t know. I’m… glad, relieved, happier than ever, that I don’t know what might have happened. And now that it seems we’re both… whole… I feel like an apology is just a way for me to say that if I had the steel to speak for the both of us, maybe we could have spared so much pain in between.”

Jeanie’s doe eyes twinkled with tears. “I thought that being apart might heal us both… I-I did it ‘cause—in essence—I did it because I cared, Wonwoo. About you. So deeply. But I also needed to start caring about myself, too.”

The corners of his mouth flitted in an unbridled smile toward the girl, his gaze admiring how the evening sunlight warmed up her cool-toned skin and shimmered through her strong, healthy hair.

“I know,” Wonwoo finally answered. “I’ve known for a while.”

Jeanie stayed for about an hour longer, until the sky started darkening. Together, they filled each other in on the breakages in each other’s distant lives, like a spider reweaving a gash through its cobweb. He was pleased to learn that she was doing quite well for herself—now moved out from her family house and living with her younger sister, Jeanie held true to pursuing her ambition of managing the library she had always adored coming to during her childhood (he remembered it specifically as “the one with the bean bag corner and the giant toy crate with the giraffe.”)

Wonwoo felt he didn’t have much to say regarding himself, however, he had plenty to say about you.

Rubbing at a strand of her hair, Jeanie nodded. “Yeah, I remember Her. She—like—she did scare me a bit… I don’t know—she really seemed to know what she was doing. I was a little envious of that. And she had really great style. She could pull anything off. She came in looking for a textbook one time, but I made my co-worker help her instead. I think I was too nervous to talk to her.”

Wonwoo had his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, hands settled on his stomach. Itching at his eyebrow, he smiled. “I probably would have done the same, back then. Honestly though, she’s nothing like what she seems. I can promise you that.”

Jeanie was quiet for a moment, adjusting the legs tucked up underneath herself. “So… you two are… you’re dating?”

“No… it’s weird. I wish.”

“I recognized her when she opened the door. I was pretty confused since… of all the people that you could have over… she seemed like the most unlikely candidate. I-I mean, I’m not saying that you could never—I’m not saying that it could never happen—”

He tilted his head at Jeanie, grinning slyly. “No, just say it. You didn’t imagine I’d ever even be able to talk to someone like her.”

The girl’s face flushed. “Well, you’re quite the opposites.”

“In some ways.”

“I don’t think she’d like me.”

Wonwoo pursed his lip in disagreement. “That’s not true. To be fair, you’ve ever only got to see one side of her. She’s trying to figure shit out just as much as we are. You never really stop, I suppose.”

He felt Jeanie’s gaze still on him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching into a delicate, sincere smile made brighter by her eyes. “So… you figure she’d like me? Even if she knew all the details about us? How rough it all was?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, staring back toward her confidently. “I figure she’d probably like you more than me, actually.”

8:28 pm

“Hey, thanks for picking up.”

“Oh, no big deal. You called me at a good time. I was just about to start my skincare and I would have needed to sit for fifteen minutes doing absolutely nothing in a slimy face mask.” 

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m guessing your conversation is over and done with.”

“Yeah. She only left like, five minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t want to sit alone in your bedroom contemplating the universe for an additional hour with all the blinds drawn? Woah. Wonwoo, I am impressed. Finger snaps.”

“Finger snaps.”

“So… am I allowed to know how the whole thing went or did you just call me to hear the sound of my voice?”

“Both. But mostly to hear your voice.”

“Okay. Enlighten me then.”

9:45 pm

“Anyway… yeah. The conversation went well. I still can’t believe she actually came back to see me. Like, what a mindfuck, you know?”

“That took a lot of courage from her part.”

“Yeah, it did. Makes me proud, though. To hear her actually speak her mind. She really was just trying to be the best possible person for me and the only thing that got her is heartbreak. She’s putting herself first, now. She’s spending a couple days in the city with her sister.”

“… Do you think that you’ll want to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to?”

“Do you?”

“No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as it was a shock to see her again, there was great closure in it. If she had come to see me way sooner, no way would I have been open to it—I probably would have freaked the fuck out and had an anxiety attack or some shit—but I feel way better about everything now. I felt like I understood her choices, kinda like I was the one making them... but, you know, we’re evolved people at this point. We’ve veered onto two separate paths, neither one being greater than or less than the other… just different.”

“Right.”

“We just wished each other well.”

“No, that’s great. You put a bow on it. I just didn’t really know what the whole thing was gonna entail… so, yeah, I had gotten kinda worried… like—once I knew it was her—I thought she looked so perfect for you. You two just made immediate sense in my mind. She’s got such a sweet voice, and the kind, shy personality that everyone always adores. I think if you stuck her in a room with me, she’d hate my guts.”

“Ha—Jeanie hates no one’s guts. She’s got no room in her heart for that kind of stuff. You two are different for sure, but I think that’s what would make you interesting and attractive to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t think you’d like her either. But I told her you’d probably like her more than me.”

“What! She actually thought that? I mean, maybe I seemed a little damp when I left, but that was just my mind on overdrive.”

“Need me to arrange a date between you two?”

“Ha—she did have a great perfume on. Maybe ask about that.”

“Well, I will if I see her.”

“She doesn’t know about the book you were writing for her, does she? I can’t believe that’s been sitting on your laptop all this time.”

“No, she doesn’t. I used to sit there and stare at it every day, but I don’t think I’ve even opened the damn document in months… since I met you, my mind has gradually moved away from it, I guess. I think now it’s more of an effort thing. All the time I put into it. It’s like, if I delete it, I’m deleting that time from my life… does that even make sense?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

“… Did you ever finish your book for Mingyu? I know you wanted it done before your anniversary in December. It seemed like you were on track to have it done quite early, with all that time you gave yourself.”

“I did finish it, actually.”

“No fucking way—that’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah. Now I’ve just gotta decide what to do with it.”

—NOVEMBER 3RD.

Wonwoo was fairly surprised that Princess had invited him to her birthday dinner at Terra Cotta. At one point, he wasn’t certain where he stood with your closest friend, even if his relationship with her presented itself as amicable on the surface—he always thought that maybe deep down, Princess really did despise him. Then Wonwoo wondered if you had nipped at the birthday girl into inviting him, although that didn’t seem like something in your character.

Through all his fretting, thumb-scraping, and late-night pondering in the shower, Wonwoo eventually came to the conclusion that was probably the simplest and most accurate: Princess just liked him.

A call from Vernon came through right as Wonwoo was getting into bed last week, to which the rambling boy had impetuously thrown out, “yeah, I got an invite to Her’s best friend’s birthday dinner or somethin’ like that—what was her name again? Penelope? The sexy dark skin girl with the braids? Anyway, I told her I’d love to go, but I’m gonna be out of town for a few days in November. Said I could hook her up with a couple MDMA bombs, though. Y’know, as a gift.”

Thus, that concluded the story of Wonwoo having to sit at a rather large and reserved candlelit table in an expensive, esteemed restaurant, surrounded by some friends and strangers alike, with a plastic baggie of hard drugs shoved into his pants pocket that he couldn’t stop worrying about. Vernon had wanted him to leave it with Princess when appropriate. Most people invited were going to the club later in the night—Room 319—which he figured could only be survived by going buckwild off ecstasy. As his knee continued to ricochet underneath the tablecloth, Wonwoo was soothed by your hand sliding over his thigh.

You gave him a solicitous glance, smiling with care. “Why don’t I just put it in my purse?” The offer was whispered amongst the conversation.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but flit his eyes around the table, ensuring no one was giving his general direction a lick of attention. The waiters and waitresses would pop from the blue every now and then with bottles that seemed glued to their hands, scouring for anyone who needed a top up on alcohol. His glass had been seldom touched for the past half-hour.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Wonwoo,” you deadpanned at him.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh my God—just give me it. It’ll take me two seconds to dig it out from your pocket and shove it in my damn purse. Besides, I can’t enjoy myself when the anxiety is emanating off you in waves.”

His knee immediately stopped jerking. Wonwoo looked you straight in the eyes, the stiffness turning him into straw. “Is it really?”

“Yes!” You laughed quietly, your head hunkering down on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Now, give me it please. Pretty please.”

Sliding a hand into the smooth pocket on his pants, Wonwoo began fishing out the small plastic baggie while puffing, “fuck—alright.”

“Gosh,” he heard you mumble while discreetly taking the capsules from him, rustling them into your purse, “you could never be a drug dealer, could you? How are you even friends with Vernon? That dude probably walks around with sample sizes taped to his jacket.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo was finally able to roll out his shoulders and relax—even give you a humorous little smirk, “I have a way better chance of escaping the drug dogs than he does. I’ll get a nice head start.”

His thigh was met with a slap before your hand pulled away. “I’m acting like I don’t know either of you.”

To be fair, Wonwoo couldn’t picture his bad-mouthed, fairly uncouth friend in a snotty establishment like Terra Cotta, especially considering his ideal places to eat were twenty-four-hour diners and cereal pantries belonging to girls whom he’d just slept with. The restaurant was no doubt beautiful, though it was definitely for the upper echelons who could not only afford it, but also act the pleasant, opulent guise.

At least the table that Princess reserved was a bit more separated from the other tables in the restaurant—it was close to a waterfall built into the wall, encompassed by all sorts of burnish-looking smooth stones.

Neither Seokmin or Mingyu were at the dinner—two absences that no one seemed to be questioning. To Wonwoo, that was a gigantic relief—he assumed you felt the same. Clara was there, seated further down the table, but Bells wasn’t. Seungcheol was an obvious guest, and besides you, he was the person that Wonwoo had spoken to the most since arriving at the restaurant—he’d even given Wonwoo the slip on his secret gift for his girlfriend, which was a two-week vacation to the Bahamas after the winter exam season.

Wonwoo was a little jealous.

He would love for you and him to vacation somewhere.

Maybe even take you back to South Korea.

“So, you guys,” Princess had started a conversation with you and Wonwoo from across the table, hands folded underneath her chin while she smiled kindly between you, “think you’ll come to the club after?”

You pouted at her, “we’re passing, babe. A million sorries.”

“Awe, that’s okay.” She reached across the pristine tablecloth to lay her hand over top yours. “You already took me out for my birthday, anyway. And let me vomit in your washroom for two hours.”

“Mmhm. You’d do the same for me.”

Princess giggled, her grin luminous and wholly genuine. “Oh, of course. I have already done it!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about Room 319. The stories I’ve heard about that place—sounds like some shit from a movie.”

“Trust me, you’ll get the entire script in a bound book. I know the club thing isn’t for everyone—that’s why I did the dinner. And I’m doing cupcakes instead of cake! Remember those red velvet cupcakes we had that one night? And then that other night? Fuck—I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn things.”

“Oh, those were fucking delicious.”

“De-licious. Have you ever got to try one, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed, a bit jarred to be welcomed into their conversation that he had been happily listening to from the sidelines.

“I tried one. I liked it.”

Princess gasped at him. “Only liked? Be serious!”

“Well, ask me again later tonight. I wasn’t having it fresh.”

“I will be asking. How’s Vernon? I’m sad he couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sometimes he just mysteriously disappears from town for a couple days—I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. But, uh, he did leave me with a gift for you… if you didn’t already know.”

“Oh… oh! Right!” Princess straightened up, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. You can give it to me when we leave. Outside.”

“I have it actually,” you clarified, flickering a transient look at the tiny purse you had moved onto the table,  “when we take a girl’s trip to the washroom, you can have it. The dose is pretty high. I know I don’t have to worry about you and this stuff, but be careful, y’know?”

“Of course. Just make sure you hide the purse in your lap when the waiter comes back. They love offering to take bags and satchels and all that stuff to hang in the coat room.” After clearing her throat with a sip from her pink, frothy champagne, Princess curiously poked at you two. “So, how do you guys plan to spend the rest of your night?”

Wonwoo opted not to speak.

You grabbed your wine glass, swirling the aromatic alcohol around inside while shrugging. “Not sure. It’s chilly out. Hope you don’t freeze your tits off standing outside in the mile long line for the club.”

“That’s what this push-up is for. The padding’s so toasty warm.”

Laughing with Princess, you ended up snorting.

Seungcheol, who was sat beside his girlfriend and had been occupied in speaking to a friend Wonwoo forgot the name of, finally parted from his conversation, turning his head at the last second to hear the giggling.

“Push-up? What are you guys talking about?”

You shook your head. “Nothing—just her bra.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbled, “what about her bra?”

Princess smiled. “Just that with all this padding it’s got, it’ll keep me nice and warm when I’m waiting outside. Perfectly insulated.”

Rubbing a thumb and index finger along his jaw, Seungcheol grinned all relaxed-like while Princess rolled her dark brown eyes at his comment, the gold accents in her inner corners glimmering.

“I bet my hands would be a lot more efficient. Nothing warmer than skin on skin as they say.”

She shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “Who says that? Now, bedroom eyes away before I make you wear a bag over your head.”

“I don’t see a bag here.”

“As the birthday girl, I’m pretty sure I can request one.”

The dinner officially wrapped up around ten at night. Wonwoo was able to reaffirm with Princess that the red velvet cupcakes were indeed moist and delicious. As everyone stood right outside the restaurant in the nippy, cold November weather, giving hugs and farewells to those who weren’t clubbing, he made sure to wish Princess probably the twentieth happy birthday she’d heard that night. He waited for you to give her another speech about staying safe but still having fun, sprinkled with lots of “I love you’s” and inside jokes that Wonwoo wondered if he would ever understand, before you two left on your own.

Each time he spoke, his breath would come to life in a warm wisp from his mouth, meanwhile the streets lights reflected in the melted snow all over the sidewalk he aimlessly wandered down, with you sticking close to his side. It hadn’t been a heavy snow, at least.

“Be honest,” you said, glancing toward Wonwoo, “how relieved are you that we’re not going to the club? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Is ten the most relieved?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, completely unabashed. “Ten.”

Kissing your teeth, you nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

“So,” Wonwoo hummed, stopping beside you at the intersection while waiting for the crosswalk light to change, “what now?”

Your eyebrows raised. “Still want to do something?”

As the cars whipped past, throwing up brisk winds and exhaust into the twinkling city atmosphere, Wonwoo shrugged. “The night is young.”

“What's on your mind?”

“We’re not far from Centertown. It’s maybe a fifteen-minute walk or so at this point. There’s a bar there I want to try. The Honeymoon.”

He was glad you didn’t seem opposed.

“Sure. I’m down.”

Once the crosswalk was open and the floods of people started pressing forward, there was somebody who passed them—somebody who almost went completely unnoticed by Wonwoo until his memory reloaded and he suddenly found himself pausing to observe over his shoulder.

You pulled at his sleeve. “What?”

“Uh, nothing,” Wonwoo replied, wetting his dry lips while heeding your polite tug, “the woman that passed us—she’s dressed exactly like this prostitute that Vernon told me he saw last winter, hanging outside Room 319. She has the heels and everything.”

“What the fuck. Really?”

“Mmhm,” he laughed, “he called her Pink Heels Lady. To be honest, I thought he was lying… but I’m pretty sure that was her.”

“Spooky. Coincidence or fate, do you think?”

Wonwoo glanced at you, seeing the intrigued smile on your face.

“I don’t know, actually,” he responded after the question hovered around in his mind for an oddly long second, deciding to pick up your hand in is, “I assume it’s just the universe working its magic.”

Wonwoo was never particularly into bars, although he could tolerate them much more than a club despite their parallels. The seedy lighting, deafening music, and signature throw-up gutter in the street or alleyway right outside the building was crucial to both, he had realized.

The Honeymoon was a newer bar that had garnered some notable buzz. It was less like a pub, being slightly more formal with a touch of modernity that had landed it just below presumptuous, in Wonwoo’s opinion. At least the music wasn’t overbearing, nor was there intoxicated, flush-faced men hollering at sports teams on televisions that would never hear them. You decided to sit at the counter, sliding onto the heightened chairs and leaving your jackets draped over the low backs.

You bristled, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m cold.”

Wonwoo cupped his hands overtop your icy cheeks for a moment, allowing some of his warmth to seep into your skin.

“A drink will fix that right up.”

“How are your hands hotter than mine? You’re always freezing.”

He smiled at you, letting you have your face back. “I can warm them up at will to your benefit.” Wonwoo joked, bumping his knee against yours. “What do you think of the place?”

Your lip pursed as you glanced around, examining the bartenders filling up glasses with their silvery, shiny spouts, and then over your shoulder at the numerous other tables occupied by the city’s strangers. For a frigid November night, it was quite full.

“It’s nice. The lighting is pretty. Reminds me of Alley Cat.”

“Oh, yeah. Vernon took me there once to celebrate my exams being done, then he got into a fist fight with this university student over something I can’t remember—smashed a glass on the dude’s head.”

Predictably, your eyes rolled. “Only Vernon is getting into fist fights at Alley Cat.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Well, now he can’t get into fist fights there at all—management banned him and the other guy. Apparently, they’ve got this back wall of people who’ve been kicked out and he’s on there.”

“Figures,” you sighed.

“Oh my gosh! Wonwoo? It’s you!”

At the sound of his name being excitedly called, Wonwoo was soon met with the surprised but cheerful expression coloured to Sierra’s freckled face. He hadn’t forgotten that she worked there, but he was clueless about her schedule. She looked very pretty, glowing in a halo almost, with her coarse, reddish-brown hair pulled back slick into a ponytail and a crisp, clean black uniform tailored to fit her perfectly.

Wonwoo grinned. “Hey there. I didn’t know you worked tonight.”

Sierra set one hand onto the lacquered wood counter while the other stuck to her hip. “I don’t usually. Fridays are game nights with my little sister. But there was a call-in. A little extra cash never hurt.” The girl’s big, round eyes then flitted to you. “Her, right? I don’t think we’ve ever met formally. I know you’re one smart cookie, though.”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered, smiling back at Sierra, “you were at the party, weren’t you? The one Seungcheol threw this summer?”

She nodded, “I was. I made a few drinks here and there.”

“I never got to taste one,” you frowned, pouting.

Throwing up her hands, Sierra was quick to exclaim with her typical charisma and sugar sweetness, “what! Preposterous! I think I’m pretty wicked at it. What are you thinking of having?”

“To be honest, I’m not looking for anything too fancy at the moment. In fifteen minutes from now, I won’t be able to promise the same. I’d like to start off with a rum and coke, if that’s alright. For now.”

Sierra grinned. “No, that’s perfect. What about you, Wonwoo?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have the same. For now.”

“Well, for now, I’ll start you guys off with two rum and cokes.”

Leaning his elbows onto the countertop, he threw her a question.

“How’s it going with Carmen?”

While she prepared the drinks, Sierra blossomed into a smile. “Oh, it’s going great. She’s genuinely a blast. We’re going to the movies next week—that horror one is coming out, about the swimming pool—we think it’s gonna suck but that’s what makes it fun.”

Once Sierra slid you the cold glass, you tilted your head at her while fixing your lips around the black straw. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My girlfriend.” Sierra answered. “We met here, actually.”

“Ugh, no way,” you swooned, pressing a cheek into your hand as the next drink was given to Wonwoo, “that’s so fucking adorable. Does she ever tell you how beautiful you look in that all-black uniform?”

Giggling, Sierra wiped down the countertop and flushed. “I’ve heard it many times. It’s honestly just a t-shirt and slacks!”

“Well, you’re making it work.”

“Please—my face is heating up! You’ve got quite the gorgeous dress on yourself, you know. I always wonder where you get all your clothes. Wonwoo, have you complimented her yet, tonight?”

Mixing the ice cubes together to hear the satisfying clinks using his straw, he answered easily. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

Sierra nodded in satisfaction. “Good! Well, I won’t hover. But if you need any refills or have any questions, you can try to flag me down—or ask Jamie! She’s just down there. She’s great at martinis. Later!”

Once Sierra had left to busy herself with tending to others waiting service at the counter, you looked to Wonwoo, lips downturned.

“Jeez, she’s so freaking nice. How come I don’t have that kind of natural charm? Not that I’m not charming. But hers is so… magnetic.”

“Everyone’s got their natural quirks.”

“Yeah, well, my natural quirk is that I’m probably going to down this in the next two minutes. And then have three more after that.”

Wonwoo rubbed a hand to your shoulder, smirking into the glass that he raised to his mouth. “Just focus on the one you have now.”

3 more rum and cokes (+ 1 martini) later.

“No, no—but then, it gets even worse! Because not only had she been lying straight to his face the entire time, so was his best friend! They were seeing each other for weeks and weeks—he had no idea. What gave it away though, was the perfume. He was always telling her not to wear heavy perfumes and stuff because it will leave a scent on the sheets, but she messed up—so they freaked it, she spends the night, and then the next day when he’s over, he goes into his friend’s room looking for a charger and smells the perfume on the sheets! He puts it together! And then, and then—”

You paused, picking up the wide-mouthed martini glass to take a sip in the midst of your long-winded and passionate adultery story that Wonwoo had been struggling to follow for the past blurred time interval, the names now completely lost on his ears. There was hardly anything left in your glass, which led to your frustrated grumble, followed by an attempt to flag down the bartender, Jamie.

However, Wonwoo swiftly caught your hand despite his own impaired state, lowering it back to the countertop.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” He pushed forward the cup of water he requested for you. “The least you can be right now is hydrated.”

Although you weren’t happy about his thwarting, you did yield to the advice and drink some of the water. Wonwoo knew he should probably have some himself after his own splurge on the bar’s pricy concoctions, but he still felt that he was holding up quite well. Before Jamie could whisk by again, he made sure to ask for another cup.

“So, what happened next?” Wonwoo nudged your elbow while you stared off cluelessly, urging you to continue the story.

“What?”

“He smells her perfume on the bedsheets. Now what?”

However, you were suddenly slumping forward, forehead nestled into your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that without word, until Wonwoo couldn’t help his concern and touched at your bare shoulder.

“Not feeling well?”

You shook your head, whining out, “no, no. It’s not that.”

He frowned, scooting to the edge of his chair and securing his arm across your shoulders. His voice was softer and closer against your warm cheek as he attempted to gauge that sour, twisted expression past your concealing hands, wanting to understand your hiding.

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s bothering you?”

Again, you remained silent, biting your lip. There was such tenseness in your body that he could simply feel with just his arm.

Wonwoo leaned back, instead tugging at your wrist. “Can I at least see your face? Please?” You didn’t budge. “Her, you’re worrying me a bit, here. Do you need me take you home—”

“Okay, I have something to tell you.” Breaking abruptly from your husk, you were now staring straight and square at Wonwoo with distinct inebriation cloudy in your eyes, although there was something else too that compelled Wonwoo to bite his tongue and listen. “Honestly, I think I’ve held onto this long enough. And, I’ve wanted to confess this to you for a while now, but there was just so much debris in my life that I needed to sort through first. But you’re beyond important to me, and I just think that it’s time you finally know… so, can I tell you?”

“Um…”

Wonwoo’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and his pulse had spiked to the point where he could feel a vein along his neck start throbbing—he even pondered waving down the bartender for another drink to pacify his growing nerves.  

Ultimately, Wonwoo wouldn’t last that long. Pushing up his glasses, he nodded, noting that you hadn’t blinked once while you waited.

“Sure. Tell me.”

Your upper lip twitched.

“Mingyu’s been cheating on me, for two years.”

Wonwoo was quick to feel all his awareness become dull and drowned. He hardly registered his elbow shifting across the countertop, almost knocking over the glass of water onto the floor, nor did he realize the manner in which his mouth had subtly dropped open. You continued to stare at him with intensity, likely studying every tweak and fidget in his body language before swallowing deeply and choosing to continue the revelation.

He tightened up his jaw, trying to seem firm.

You looked ashamed of yourself as you admitted, “it’s been going on for two years, and I’ve known for about a year.”

“Really?” He answered, sounding mystified. “An entire year?”

“Give or take.”

Then, Wonwoo was shaking his head. His fist had clenched up tight, though it wasn’t the usual automated response that accompanied his anxiety—he found there was immediate distaste and anger swirling together like storm clouds in the pit of his stomach.

Your gaze was cast to the water glass on the countertop, which you moved away for no apparent reason, your expression emptied.

After a frail sigh, you continued, “do you remember that day I came into creative writing and got super upset at that guy for sitting in my seat? Remember how we talked about it at the nature museum, and I told you that I had a fight with Mingyu before going to class?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that day, I tried bringing it up to him. And it totally didn’t go over how I thought it would. Mingyu denied it all… of course, I only had some vague but suspicious texts to go off of, which he explained his way out of pretty poorly. But I just accepted it for the sake of our relationship. And I never brought it up again until… you know.”

Wonwoo let a natural, stagnant silence fall in between you, meanwhile the encompassing atmosphere was kept flowing by the various conversations of those around you—seemingly happy—with plenty to drink as they kept warm from the bitter cold just outside.

He was biting his tongue, though he couldn’t hold the question any longer, piquing his, “do you know who he was cheating with?”

A huff shot straight through your nose.

“I know…” you mumbled, “and you know her, too.”

Suddenly, a name popped to his mouth without thought.

“Bells.”

When you didn’t confirm nor deny, opting to stare off to the side to conceal the emotion springing forth, Wonwoo knew it was solid truth.

“Fuck…” he cursed, grazing his hand across the smooth leg that was folded over your knee, “I’m so sorry… I’m at a loss for words.”

You could only sigh while a glossy film developed in your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been through all the stages already—grief, denial, acceptance—whatever the other ones are—so I don’t know why I’m still getting so choked up about it. I obviously didn’t want to believe it… I mean, who the fuck does? Especially when you truly do have feelings for that person.” Shaking your head and sniffling, you exasperatedly flicked out a hand. “Her and her stupid sparkles. That was when I really started putting it together. Oh, I’m going out to play poker, babe! And the next day, I’m wearing his sweater, and I realize there’s these fucking little bits of glitter on it, inside it—it was like a fucking beacon that was just screaming at me—hey! Your asshole boyfriend is cheating!”

That was something Wonwoo had noticed himself, after Bells had bumped into him at the party—the girl’s adoration for sparkly clothing and makeup essentially left behind a glaring trail of glimmery breadcrumbs. Wonwoo had found them on his clothes once he took them off and could really see the fabric underneath the light. The confession suddenly painted your actions that night in a new colour.

Rubbing against your temple, you explained further despite the struggle to speak over that clogged sound coming from your throat.

“It’s not like I’m stupid, either, even if right now, in this situation, I seem like it. I know what Bells is like… she’s spoiled rotten—always has been—and is used to getting whatever the fuck she wants. But, you see, that’s the thing! That’s the fucking thing! Seokmin, Clara, Bells, even Princess—I only met them because of the webs my parents have in their business world. I was never really allowed to find my own friends. It really just shows how much they had a say in my life… don’t misconstrue, I truly do love Princess and she’s by far the most normal, grounded person amongst them. She actually listens, and cares. But I was only allowed to befriend her ‘cause my parents know her parents.

Mingyu seemed like the one person I was actually able to connect with on my own… but he’s honestly changed so much. It’s like, my parents were able to get their little fangs in him and warp him. And now… I really don’t think he loves me at all… I think he loves my image, and what I represent, and the opportunities that come with me… but, I don’t think he actually, genuinely loves me like he used to... like, back then, he was so, so sweet. He was always fumbling over himself, nervous, trying his best. I mean, you've read about it! He used to want to be an architect, Wonwoo. A freaking architect! He sketched all the time. He has a closet drawer full of sketch books from when he was younger. But everything's different now. He doesn't care. He hates when I bring it up! He hates me!

And I don’t just think—I know it, Wonwoo. He resents me, but he won’t let go. Instead, he just sucks the life out of me, like he’s trying to get me to hate myself, too. And I do. I guess, as long as I hate myself, it makes me perfect in their eyes. I’ll just keep letting them mould me until I feel complete.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

Hell, he didn’t even know what to say except for the fact that you were right—as long as you always felt subpar, or lacking, or frustrated with your drought of true identity, it would lead you back to the reliance you had on the deceptive characters in your life—it was nothing but a miserable cycle designed to bog you down and snuff you out. At least your tearful eyes had dried up.

You looked at him fondly, with a gentle smile. “That’s what I like so much about you… even if you didn’t intend to—which I know you didn’t, judging from what I’ve heard about you trying to avoid writing with me—” (he bit his inner cheek coyly, casting a somewhat anxious hand through his hair), “—you helped me realize parts of myself that were always there, but only needed some nurturing. You actually encouraged me. Supported me. And—okay—I know I said that I hate myself—but since I’ve met you, I’ve been replacing it with an understanding of my situation. I’ve been kinder. I’ve been more of myself. I like to think what we have is a sort of symbiosis.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you think that I’m… stupid… for staying?”

Immediately, Wonwoo’s face furled in disagreement. “No, no. Absolutely not. Mingyu’s been with you for so long. He has an integral quality in your life. It would be difficult to uproot yourself just like that. No one’s a better judge of that situation than you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

As you relaxed back into the bar chair, Wonwoo could practically see this heavy, dark mist levitate from you and dissipate into the air. He knew that feeling of relief and inner freedom very well, and there was almost nothing that could compare to it.

Wonwoo then sipped from his glass of water, continuing to watch the stiffness melt off you like ebbing spring snow. "So, what was his response like? To your accusations? Was he at least honest?"

"Yeah, I got it all out of him eventually," you revealed with a very cumbersome sigh. "But he was deflecting like crazy... I'd never seen him like that before... he was fumbling his words all over, like he used to when we were first dating. But it was different. It wasn't nerves, it was just blind anger. He said I was no better. I mean, he's convinced we've had sex, and he wouldn't accept my denial, no matter what."

"It's not black and white," Wonwoo said, squeezing your arm, "it seems to me like a natural consequence. You felt trapped and alone."

For a split second, Jeanie flashed in his mind. A sear of guilt snapped through him. Mingyu would have much reflecting to do.

Nodding your head, you looked to Wonwoo and graced him with the words he may or may not have been waiting months to hear: "it's all over now—Mingyu and I—I made that extremely clear. And I honestly don't care what anyone else has to say. My mom didn't want to believe it... she's been acting strange since. I don't blame her."

In response, he merely nodded, warming you up with his gentle eyes.

But then he was shifting forward in his seat, elbows settled to the counter. Although it was quite late and he felt exhausted from drinking, his curiosity about a particular matter was still sharp.

“So… I’m wondering… what's your reason for writing the book?”

You gulped. “I wanted a way of looking back on everything. Seeing if maybe I could find myself somewhere amongst all those memories. Maybe when I started losing Mingyu was when I started losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I was losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I never really knew myself to begin with.”

He shrugged, his face colouring with admiration for you.

“Well... have you found something?”

Your only means of response was a twinkle-eyed grin.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t as dreadful as Wonwoo anticipated, mostly attributed to the alcohol soaking up in your stomachs, keeping your blood warm even in the face of a tough, harsh wind. Back when it wasn’t so late in the night and his lips had yet to touch his first rum and coke, Wonwoo thought he would take himself home after seeing you off first. But now it was almost midnight, and he had this impending feeling of vertigo while he walked, and he was therefore very limp to fight the offer that involved a comfortable stay at your place until morning.

Wonwoo wasn’t exactly sure where he deposited his coat or his shoes, or even his phone—instead he found himself sitting at the end of your bed, listening to the muffled sound of a running sink behind a closed door as you were busy in the washroom.

He leaned over, removing the glasses already slid down his nose and rubbing a palm into his eye until stars traversed the length of his vision. So, Lady Liberty was a cheater. For the past two years. It did bring Wonwoo to wonder what else Mingyu had said during your argument. Did he ever give a reason for cheating? Did he feel boxed into a life that wasn't the enriching utopia he surmised it might be, but he was toughing it out for the sake of success? Was he cheating because he was mad at you or mad at himself?

Or was he honestly just an asshole?

The Mingyu he was familiar with was shifty, and hardened, and image-obsessed, and now Wonwoo knew for a fact he wasn’t delusional for feeling the tension between you and him whenever you were together. God—he could practically cut all the thickness in the air using Seokmin’s nose and serve it like pieces of cake. But Mingyu hadn't always been like that according to your allegories. Deep down there could still be traces of the man you fell in love with, flickering like shiny little minnows beneath murky, clouded water.

But it was too late now.

Fitting his glasses back on, Wonwoo rolled back the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt, proceeding to take a gander around your bedroom that he hadn’t revisited in quite some time.

The running sink in the washroom across the hall was finally turned off, although Wonwoo had stopped paying attention to the background noise in place of reading your every detail off the walls. In minuscule ways, the room had changed. There were missing photographs from the dresser, your makeup vanity drawers no longer left ajar in your likely last-minuting rushing to ensure everything was perfect. The closet seemed cleaned-out. Emptier than it once was.

“I thought you might fall asleep.”

He jumped slightly, realizing that you were in the bedroom now, setting down your heels in the corner before making a stride toward the closet where the dress over your arm was hung back up.

Wonwoo bit his lip. “I questioned it.”

You smiled, and within that moment he noticed the long t-shirt you were draped in was the dark blue, logoed math shirt, the one you’d picked after sprinting back to his apartment amidst a rain storm. He felt something in his chest swell and ache in response to how pretty you looked wearing it. Wonwoo knew he was staring, blushing, but he didn’t care. You had two of his t-shirts now. He hoped that collection might continue growing. He hoped that you wore them until his scent was naturally replaced by the strawberry sweetness of your own.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” You asked, arms folded.

Slapping a guilty little grin on his face, Wonwoo shrugged. “No.”

But then you started striding toward Wonwoo, uttering out something half-whispered that sounded a lot like “liar”, and now he truly wasn’t thinking about a damn thing, not even his own breath, as you proceeded to slide your arms around his neck and seat yourself in his lap. He was frozen. You hadn’t been this fucking close to him since you two had cuddled during Seungcheol’s party.

But this was worse—this was full-throttle intimacy with your penetrative, fluttering eyes eating up his soul while your bare thighs squeezed the sense out of him, trapping him, testing him.

“Scared?” You whispered, moving your face in closer.

Yes—he was horrified—he couldn’t even speak with you smiling at him so innocently despite the flames you were igniting.

Though, when he felt a wriggle from your hips that seemed to push against him in all the right places, Wonwoo’s hands were immediate on your waist, tight and stilling, and he swore there was a vulnerable, pliant spark in your eyes that he had never seen before. Maybe Wonwoo could have been more polite about the approach, but after waiting so, so long, he felt like a rocket ship rife with fuel.

He kissed you.

In one decision his lips were pressed to yours, and in a kiss that was full of friction and earnest want, he could only dig deeper. Your arms curled further around his neck, to which you slipped in a quick, sharp breath before pouring yourself back into him so suddenly, mouths moulding again and again, spit slickening, noses bumping. He would have paused to take off his glasses, though Wonwoo was in no place to leave your lips for even a second—especially when your playful tongue glided with his and the world around him melted like wax.

Maybe he was biased (or maybe it was love), but Wonwoo swore it had never felt this right to kiss someone. He knew it, somewhere outside himself, far out in the ever-expanding universe and every other version that belonged, that this moment felt destined to happened. Wonwoo had never particularly believed in fate.

But then he wouldn’t know how else to describe you.

His hands itching to touch more of your skin had gravitated to the thighs clenching at his hips. Your warmth and smoothness only made him greedier. As the kissing became messy in the desperation, he couldn’t help but slide his hands to your ass, immediately kneading his cold fingers into the flesh, pulling, squeezing, pushing you closer into him because he quite literally wanted you to engulf his body.

Then, you were gripping at the back of his hair. You had opened up his throat for your wet lips to continue exploring, and Wonwoo felt every suckle and teething bite draw him further from clarity.

Each kiss slithered lower, until you were gradually lifting from his lap and placing yourself onto the carpet floor. Wonwoo had leaned back to tightly fist the bedsheets behind him, although he would never waver his lusted eyes from the sight of you between his spread legs, on your knees, palming him overtop his dress pants while biting your swollen, glistening lip. He almost wanted the camcorder to capture it.

“How does it feel?” You hummed, staying focused on each pressured movement your hand applied to his prominent erection.

Wonwoo chuckled, clearing the huskiness in his throat, “like I’m gonna die.” His head tilted back. “Holy shit.”

Flashing nothing but a conniving, pleased smile, you tended to undoing his belt buckle. Wonwoo was burning up. As you pulled down the zipper to his pants and helped him shift down the waistband to his underwear an adequate distance, he couldn’t process anything but the fact that he might burst like an explosion of confetti the second your hand would touch him.

Except, you opted to sit back on your haunches.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him.

“I would like a demonstration, please.”

He almost choked. “A what?”

“A demonstration,” you repeated, shuffling closer in between his thighs and gazing up much too seraphically through your lashes, “won’t you show me how you touch yourself, Wonwoo? Please?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t produce one stupid fragment of a sentence, or even a word. God—it didn’t fucking help that you took reign and offered to get him started—your hand carefully reaching past his underwear, gripping onto him gently to spring his erection free. A shiver surged throughout his body at the sensation. Hotness spread like molten lava across his face as the result of your lascivious, teasing actions stood leaking and stiffer than wood right before your eyes, which were agleam with thrill and haze.

You seemed as though you were going to pounce on him.

But he could visibly see you swallow the temptation.

“Aww, you have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, wrapping a hand around him that was soft and warm, “would it make you feel better if I started you off, then? Gave you some help?”

Wonwoo’s fists were tangled so intensely into the bedsheets he was surprised the fabric hadn’t disintegrated. Holding his breath, he watched you lean forward until your mouth was hovering an agonizing distance over him, only to produce a line of spit that dripped onto his head. His jaw unhinged in a groan. Then you began working the saliva along his shaft, pumping a hand up and down, occasionally flickering your thumb over the sensitive tip only to remove the contact so casually, likely knowing it would rip him apart.

“Your turn.”

He took a second to push up his glasses and shake his head.

“M’not gonna last long, you know,” Wonwoo grunted, at last heeding your request and beginning to stroke himself for your viewing pleasure, “especially after that big display. You fucking tease.”

With an arm slid over his thigh and the drool collecting in your mouth, you couldn’t have looked anymore dazzled by the thirst you were experiencing, your eyes refusing to part from every tug delivered by his own hand. It was a spell, and you were unapologetically under it.

“Mmm, a tease?” You purred, smiling. “I was just trying to help.”

“Were you?” Wonwoo scoffed, pumping faster while continuing to twist up the bedsheets using his other hand. “Rubbing your fucking spit into my cock is tt-trying to help me? Is that what you think?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, straightening up as Wonwoo felt himself become tenser, felt the pressure in his abdomen climb.

He shuddered, a groan reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound of his fist wetly slapping up and down consumed the room and Wonwoo knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost it. You were basking in every sound and movement.

“Fuck, fuck, I-I can't—”

Suddenly, you’d pushed Wonwoo’s hand away. His stomach flipped upside down. Before he could recognize the brief loss and regain of pleasure, your suckling, wet, hot mouth was already sliding down around his erection, your grip fastening to whatever you couldn’t quite reach. Wonwoo bit his lip so hard at the sensation that something coppery-warm was tasted on his tongue, although that was the least of his concerns when you were throating him with messy desperation. His hand rested on your scalp, nervous to push your head down too firmly, but once he did, you moaned out so erotically around him that Wonwoo fragmented.

His hips bucked straight into your face while his fingers had tightened at the back of your scalp, feeling every intense throb expand against your throat, spurt after spurt filthy in your mouth. But you were diligent and zealous and Wonwoo knew you were swallowing it all despite the few tears trickling onto his pelvis. His length didn’t leave the velvet, pillowy confines of your mouth until every bit was expertly milked out from him, though had Wonwoo let his hand drift off your hair in case you wanted a breath.

With a hiccup and a wipe against your chin, you were tasting the bedroom’s heavy air and exhaling ragged as Wonwoo marvelled you.

“Trying to take my soul with you or something?” He huffed, using his thumb to remove some leftovers from the side of your lips.

You caught his hand in an instant. “No—” you piped up, quick to close your mouth around the digit and suck off whatever he politely removed, laving your tongue like you were licking a popsicle, “—I want all of it.”

He thought he might crumble, hearing you mumble such obscene words while tracks of tears dried overtop your cheeks, your voice sounding somewhat hoarse from the labour of taking him whole.

You were climbing back onto Wonwoo’s lap almost blindly, his next breath taken away by a passionate kiss you pushed so fervently onto his lips. There was another tangling of tongues, saliva mixing together, but neither attempting to take control— though at this point Wonwoo would gladly oblige to throwing you on the bed and twisting off those frustrating panties he imagined were sticking to you. He could feel your arousal dampening through the baby pink cotton as his length twitched back to hardness underneath you.

“Wonwoo,” you whined breathily into his ear while grinding your hips against him in search of friction, “I’ve got to tell you something I did.” You bruised up his neck with more kisses. “Something bad.”

His eyes were shut, hands continuing to grope your ass. “Yeah?” He mumbled, feeling your tongue drag across a vein in his neck. “You did something bad? What could that be?”

Your hands drifted down his chest, yanking open the buttons on his dress shirt in satisfying pops. Warm, feathery breath hit his ear. “That day I stayed the night in your bedroom… alone…” you kissed him on his mouth, letting it linger and last, “I couldn’t help it.”

Wonwoo had gripped the side of your face, meanwhile he rubbed underneath the waistband to your tiny, thin underwear.

“Couldn’t help what?”

He flinched as your hand sunk down to grab his cock.

“I touched myself,” you confessed just an inch from his face, “I laid back against your pillows, spread my legs all wide… I had my fingers stuffed so deep inside myself, but it still didn’t feel like enough.” Again, you were softly stroking him. Wonwoo continued to uphold that unwavering, painfully honest gaze you were pinning him in. “Nd’ I came all over your t-shirt, Wonwoo. I played with myself until my fingers were cramping and my legs couldn’t stay open anymore.”

He gulped—heavy—like swallowing a chunk of lead. His tender thumb grazed along your cheek and rubbed over your puffy lips. “I wanted to fuck you so bad that night,” Wonwoo soothed your confession with another, which was already quite obvious, “I dreamt about it. I wanted to bury myself so fucking deep inside your gut.”

You shook your head, eyes teary. “Why didn’t you?” He felt the delicate stroking motion along his erection come to a pause.

Wonwoo cradled your cheek. “It would have fucked everything up.”

“But I wanted it,” you whimpered. “I’ve been wanting it for so long and you just left me there. I would have been quiet. You could have put me face down in the pillows and just used me all you wanted.”

“No,” Wonwoo argued, “I would never want to use you. I want us to be together in everything. I know you wanted it. But lust makes you think different. Just like it’s making you think different right now.”

He softly slotted his mouth with yours, exchanging a much slower, sweeter kiss that lit a glow in his belly. You puddled right into the contact, curling your arms back around his neck to hold him tighter.

Much lighter kisses dappled the edges of your lips.

Wonwoo could feel you start to smile.

“I figured something was off the next morning,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t know how to face with you without thinking about it. I felt so dirty. But in the moment, I needed something.”

He nipped down your slender neck, letting his hot breath and reverberating, husky tone tickle your skin until your hairs stood up.

“How wet were you?” Wonwoo purred, smirking.

Immediately, your hips were pushing down on him. “Soaked,” you then whispered, “I was making such a mess. I tried so hard to be quiet. But part of me wanted you to hear.”

Wonwoo’s hands drifted up your t-shirt, gliding slow against your stomach, coming to reach the plump, sensitive breasts that he could only surmise were waiting for his attention. He cupped them in each palm, giving a tender squeeze and pull that pitched your breath into a squeak. Caressing your neck with more wet, open-mouthed kisses, he felt the absentminded grinding reignite the friction between you.

“Did you touch up here, too?”

His thumbs brushed your pert nipples. He felt you shiver.

“Y-Yes.”

Tsking his teeth, he pleasured them with slow, rubbing circles that you mewled in response to. “You’ve got the softest skin. I could touch you until I die, and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Mmhm,” he heard you exhale shakily, “I touch myself at home, too. Put my pillow between my legs. Pretend I’m grinding against you. Then let my fingers take me again and again until it hurts.”

How dare you fucking say that to him—how dare you put such an intimate visual in his mind to haunt him like a ghost to hallowed grounds. How many times had you done it? How many times had you stood right in front of him, smiling so innocently, despite knowing damn well what you had done to yourself the night before.

Wonwoo pinched your nipples, watching you flinch.

“Does it hurt right now?”

You nodded.

“Where?” He lowered his voice, sinking his hand back down the creases in your tummy until it paused right on your mound, his eyes trained to your suddenly very desperate, misty look. “Down here?”

“Yes.”

Holding eye contact with you, Wonwoo trailed his hand further along your panties until his touch was situated right between your thighs, directly feeling the wet fabric, the radiating heat, the aroused pulsations. Your fingernails were pricks in his shoulders.

“Fuck, you are drenched, aren’t you?” Wonwoo commented, rubbing his hand against you through the cotton material, your hips soon chasing the overwhelming pleasure. “Can feel you throbbing against my hand, you know that? Bet it aches so fucking good, hm?”

He grinned hard at your eyebrows knitting together. While he massaged you with one hand, the other gripped your chin where he pushed a hot, uncoordinated kiss onto your whiny mouth.

“Lay across my lap,” Wonwoo whispered in between the hasty break for air, “let me play with you instead, make you cum. Please.”

To his delight, your compliance came easily.

It didn’t take long for you to splay yourself in the desired position, with Wonwoo pushing up the shirt to bunch at your waist while your bottom was perfectly presented in his lap. He massaged you, leaning down to mark a trail of kisses along your lower back, along your ass—spreading you wide to see the large, soaked patch glistening on those easily rippable underwear.

“Just open your thighs a bit more,” Wonwoo instructed, to which you quickly listened, “fuck—perfect—all this, only for me.” He pushed his thumb against you through the panties and you instantly squeaked.

“Right?” He urged. “Is this all just for me?”

“Mmhm—yes, yes. I fucking promise. Just for you.”

Wonwoo bit his lip to stop the size of the immediate smile from breaking across his face. Your hips wriggled up as his touch drifted away.

“I need more,” you groaned in frustration, “please.”

“More here?” Wonwoo pulled back on one side of your glute to help reveal the sensitive area, then rubbing his thumb against your clit.

Your entire body jerked, and he noticed your fingers dig into the bedsheets, clawing them up. He figured the wet friction between his thumb and your panties was frustratingly amplifying every little sensation in a dull but very cruel way. He continued his ministrations, adding some more pressure for you to squirm and moan at.

“Does it still hurt?” Wonwoo asked, letting his other hand slide up your bare waist, the skin beginning to sweat and turn even warmer.

“Please,” you groaned, attempting to adjust your hips against the stroking from his thumb, “I feel like m’gonna fucking die, Wonwoo.”

“Still need more, then?”

“Yes!”

Deciding to throw you a bone, Wonwoo grabbed those thin, pink panties in his hand and helped you slide the constricting fabric down and off your legs. Once he spread you nice and wide, let the cold air ghost the slicken, swollen skin, you had gasped. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t speak—he only stared at you with all the stars in the universe collecting behind his eyes, glittering like a snow globe—at how beautiful and exposed and needy you looked.

He let his fingers slide ever so slowly along your clit, drawing up to your hole, then pushing back down to hear you whimper brokenly.

Wonwoo swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” He complimented, his fingers soaking in your arousal. “I knew your cunt would look pretty, but this is more than that. God…” experimentally, Wonwoo shifted a finger gentle into your opening, giving the digit a wriggle and few shallow pumps. Immediately your intense warmth clenched down tight before loosening, engendering him to effortlessly press in two more long fingers. “There you go… good girl…” he mumbled his encouragement as you gripped the bedsheets and moaned a guttural sound, “taking in my fingers so fucking well—they slide in so easy… make such perfect, dirty noises whenever they fill up this gorgeous cunt.”

His thumb touched at your clit, lending it some attention that had you twisting and bucking back to receive even more pleasure.

“God, Wonwoo…” you gasped, sounding lost to the ecstasy while letting him take his time with mapping out your inner walls with curious strokes, “that feels so fucking good. You have no idea. Feels like m’gonna pour all over you.”

He grinned, further stimulating your swollen clit, maintaining the pattern as you propped up on your elbows, tugged at the bedspread, and released a mellifluous, shuddering moan from your throat.

“F-fuck ye-yess…” you whined as his fingers squelched deeper and his thumb continued its circles, “yes, yes, yes, keep doing that—oh-oh, fuck! M’gonna cum all over your fingers—m’gonna make a mess!”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed, his chest tightening at how much arousal was pooling sticky around his digits, “that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted—make a mess all over me, like the pretty, desperate girl you are. Let me see it. Let me feel everything. Cum just for me.”

Your entire body proceeded to seize, Wonwoo’s fingers now struggling to pump, as this striking wave seemingly coursed through you and resulted in heavy fluids wetting his dress pants. It took a moment for you to power through the pleasure, though Wonwoo was at least able to maintain his stroking gestures against your clit until he noted the sharp, almost spastic twitches in your muscles.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo hummed in satisfaction while he gingerly eased his fingers out and left your poor, throbbing bud alone.

He smoothed his hand down your back, offering you a moment to relax, breathe, and ride out the electricity.

“Fuck,” you wiped at the sweat on the back of your neck, chuckling at the discomfort, “I can feel it all between my legs.”

Wonwoo smirked. Hard. He bent forward to peck your temple, then brushed his lips against your stinging hot ear. "How about I clean that all up for you?" The velvety whisper caused your body to jitter.

"Clean me up how?" You turned your head, catching his eye.

There was a swap of positions. Wonwoo lowered himself to the bedroom floor, the carpet spongey against his knees, while you lay down on your back and draped your legs off the edge of the bed. But he was hungry for you, and greedier than a treasure hunter, and you went limp as he hitched your knees over his broad shoulders.

Being face to face with your intimate heat was like the kiss of life—new energy was taking over him—giving him desire unlike any other.

He didn't know if he wanted to keep staring at you, your soft skin messy with slick and twitching anticipatorly at his closeness, or if he should stop prolonging the moment and just bury everything into you. Adjusting his glasses, Wonwoo licked his bitten lips. You were in the midst of shuffling up to your elbows, likely wondering what the hell he doing, staring between your thighs for so long.

But as quickly as you squeaked his name, it was interrupted by an intense gasp a second later. You leaned all your weight onto a single elbow, tossing your head back, panting for dear life as Wonwoo striped his tongue long and flat against your heat. His hands gripped your hips, sculpting them over your bone while he tasted your arousal, all sticky and musky and delicious to the point of addiction.

"O-Oh my god, Wonwoo," you cried, letting your body collapse onto the bedsheets, limbs becoming jelly, "that feels fucking amazing."

He licked into you like he were trying to reach the centre of a sweet, colourful jawbreaker. Every pass from his tongue was firm, encompassing, smothering you in pleasure and painting you with spit. But you reacted best when he toyed his ministrations around your sensitive clit—your back would jolt off the bed, arched, as your thighs hugged him tight—Wonwoo heard your begging akin to a distant echo. He would even smile into you, glasses all foggy, chin running in wetness, as you preached his name dumbly, losing your mind. Wonwoo pressed his mouth hot against you, flicking his tongue to your overstimulated clit, focusing hard on his pattern.

"Fuck, fuck!" You shouted, writhing into the sheets. "Please, Wonwoo. Please, please, please—I'm—I'm gonna cum! Please, just—k-keep—"

There was a surge of something warm and liquid that Wonwoo wanted to drink like a peach's nectar. You were throbbing right under his tongue and he loved it to a point that felt utterly insane. He didn't want to stop even if the world was ending. His face plunged in deeper, his hands grafting into your hips harsher, completely ignorant to your fingers pulling at his hectic locks of hair. Wonwoo only wanted you and nothing else and he was going to drown in it.

But you were attempting to sit up, your sweaty body becoming better at escaping his eager, hungry licks that dug into your slit, and once he heard you wince particularly sharp, he knew he had to stop.

He sat back, removing his glasses and wiping off his chin. You slid a leg from his shoulder, using a foot to gently prod against his chest—a light scolding for perhaps enjoying you a little too much.

"Are you starved?" You laughed heavily, gulping down a breath.

Wonwoo fit the glasses back to his face. "For you? Yes." He then licked at his teeth and lips, still yearning to find traces of your arousal, only to realize you were shaking. "Shit—I'm sorry if I hurt you." Standing up, he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you gentle on the lips over and over. "I'm so fucking sorry. You taste amazing, that's all. And you're so beautiful. I couldn't fucking help it."

With a giggle, you tousled his hair. "No, I'm fine. I like a little pain." Your eyes were back to shining. Then, you caught his mouth, stealing another kiss. "But I’m even greedier than you—," pushing yourself up, you nipped at his lips, “—and I want that pretty, long cock inside me to hit all the right spots.” The exchange had you seated back in Wonwoo’s lap, where your bare, soaked pussy was free to brush against his straining and achingly hard length.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smirked, welcoming your spit-smeared mouth.

Feeling your hips grind against him, you purred, “yeah.”

“I’ve got no protection,” Wonwoo admitted in between the make-out session, hardly able to pry your lips from one another as you slid backward on the bed with Wonwoo climbing over top.

Helping to shove off his dress shirt and slacks, discarding them to the floor, you shook your head. “Don’t need it.”

Returning the gesture, Wonwoo had you fully undressed. The entirety of your bare body on full display felt like something sacred—an artwork that had been crafted with unimaginable attentiveness to every single detail, no matter how miniscule. He couldn't liken it to anything else in his life but a distant memory from childhood—a grand mausoleum that he found himself inside with his older brother, the ceiling intricately chiselled with angelic, satin-like bodies.

Your words seemed distant. It took a second for him to remember.

“Don't need protection? Why?"

As your hands locked behind his neck, pulling him down close, you dug into his eyes with an emotional gaze. “Finish inside me.”

He stuttered, furrowing his brow, “seriously? You won’t—”

“No. I’m taking precautions, you know.” Brushing at his dampened, thick hair, you asked, “have you ever had unprotected sex?”

Wonwoo scoffed, surprised at the inquiry, “yeah. But—is that—you really want that? With me?” He stared down at you intensely.

“I only want it if you want it, too.”

He nodded, biting his lip, taking a moment to examine your perspiring face alongside the the rising and dipping of your chest.

“I want it,” Wonwoo reaffirmed, “I definitely want it.”

Truth be told, a splinter of nerves had lodged into his chest at the thought of having to perform to your anticipation—Wonwoo was never really sure if he would ever get intimate with you—and as his gaze again streamed your body, he felt overwhelmed. But then your fingertips were stroking down his bicep, seemingly drawing out the forthcoming anxiety from him like you were pulling out a thread of energy, and the easygoing smile he was met with tamed his heart.

Wonwoo eased closer toward you, allowing your expert touches to be the guide. Your hand had returned to his length for a few more thorough and especially lentamente tugs, prompting him to hiss into your neck while very flushed shades of pink crawled up his face.

He felt himself throb, wanting to simply collapse against you and climax at your hand for the second time. To make matters even more complicated, Wonwoo felt you shift slightly, and then the tip of his impatient cock was suddenly gliding all slippery like butter along your folds. Wonwoo’s arms started to shake.

You laid your palm gentle against his neck.

“How’s that feel?” You whispered in a trembling breath, meanwhile continuing the heavenly ministrations of tracing your clit with his length. “I-I think it feels quite nice—getting you all wet.”

“Amazing,” he answered, pressing his forehead to yours and pecking at your lips, “you want me to take it from here?”

Keeping silent, your grip drifted from his erection and you seemed satisfied to let the control sway now that Wonwoo was adjusted. Just before he aligned himself, however, he looked at you and laughed.

“Can you push up my glasses real quick?”

You chuckled, “seriously?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be see you properly?”

“Nothing,” you flashed a tender smile, then using your finger to help position the glasses back up his nose, “there you go.”

Wonwoo proceeded to slide himself inside you at a slower pace that allowed him to bask in the intimate sensation—he made damn sure every little squeeze, flutter, and convulsion your heat cushioned him with was felt—though that made it considerably hard for him not to release in pathetic fashion, before he had even made a good, swift thrust. You were soaking up the moment just as much.

He didn’t want to advert his eyes from the pleasure cascading like ripples across your face for even a second. Once he was buried in still and deep, completely stuffing you to the hilt, your breath had fogged up his glasses.

“Fuck—s-sorry—” you squirmed through the apology, your hips occasionally canting against his in unbridled twitches, “—I can hardly fucking think right now. Do you know how much you’re throbbing?”

He choked out a hoarse laugh, “do you know how insanely good you feel to me? Feels like m’gonna fucking break into a million pieces. ”

“I want you to break me into a million pieces,” you whined so needily, looping your arms around his neck, “fuck me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He was positive you had told him that in a dream once.

As euphoric as you felt clenching around him, Wonwoo truly did want the sex to last. His thrusts into your heat weren’t frantically impatient, rather they grooved incredibly, purposefully deep—each stroke was thoughtful but hard, slow but timely, and judging from your high-pitched keens and the nails scraping against his shoulder blades, he knew you were appreciating the moment just the same.

Wonwoo grasped your sweaty hands in his, your fingers interlocking tight, in order to hold them against the sea of silky pillows above your head. With another especially daggering thrust that made his teeth clench and his abdomen flutter, you had jerked and cried out his name, followed by a breathless, “rr-right there!”

A leg wrapped around his hips, your ankle digging uncomfortably into his side while he continued to push his length into the spot that was making you howl. But it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the tempo—your leg was tightening around him like a boa constrictor and your warmth was clamping down with plain strength, almost as though your body was attempting to lock him inside.

He merely squeezed your hands harder, losing his breath. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Taking advantage of another thorough stroke, Wonwoo had the bedframe thudding the wall, his words hotly pressing into your ear. “You’re trying to keep me suctioned in.”

Your whimpers were falling apart like crumbling clay. Wonwoo tried to understand what it was you were mewling at him, something involving his name, how good it felt, that he should keep going, meanwhile tears were springing to your eyes and wetting your glimmery cheeks. Wonwoo bit his lip. He was throbbing wildly inside your heat, knowing you were only getting dumber and turning incoherent as he speared you so intimately on his cock.

Wonwoo wasn’t going to last much longer and neither were you. He was already feeling himself burst and break—the convulsion ripped through him like a landslide and now your leg was fully hooked around his hips, pinning him against you while he emptied himself disgustingly deep inside your warmth.

The sensation must have triggered your own orgasm, because his cock felt like it was practically being suffocated as you squeezed down on him. Wonwoo thought he might blackout when you whined his name into the dim bedroom humidity, strung in a loud, trembling lilt that cracked beautifully in the middle.

Your arms were winding back around his neck, pulling his face to yours, a kiss crushed onto his awaiting mouth.

“I need more,” you panted in between the kisses, “don’t feel full enough yet. Cum inside me again, Wonwoo. Please, take me again.”

“Again?” He smiled, his glasses bumping your nose. You were completely uncaring, only nipping at him harder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life.” Suddenly, you were wriggling underneath him, rolling onto your stomach, and repositioning yourself such that you were face-down-ass-up. With eyes twinkling bright in pure, carnal lust, you threw him a a yearning glance from over your shoulder. “Fuck me again, nice and deep like before." His heart shot into his throat. When you begged, it was like his world was shrinking into a bubble where only you and him existed. "Please—I need it before your cum starts leaking out. I need to be filled by you, Wonwoo. Please.” You looked like you might cry if he didn't oblige the plead.

And so he did, his fingers planting a firm grip on your strong hips.

As much as you were willing to take, he was willing to give, finding himself submerge further and further into the intoxicating nature of it all until he started to lose his mind—all he knew is that it was concerningly late at night, your bedsheets were sticky and ruined, and you had gone from being thrust into the pillows to slapping yourself down on his cock while Wonwoo hazily watched. He loved the sight of your sweat, your glowing light, your bouncing breasts and pleasure-drunk face far too much. At some point, you had slumped forward into him, spent to fucking hell.

With your chests were pressed together, his cock still throbbing and stuffed inside you, there was a moment of nothing but thick, laboured breathing and heartbeats synchronizing. He kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around you, proceeding to mumble something sweet and half-asleep that contained your name.

You had squeezed his length unforgivingly in response.

“Fuck—don’t get me hard again. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I like when you use my name.”

He smiled into your cheek. “I can tell.”

Wonwoo had woken before you.

Mostly because the bedsheets had been gradually wrapped up and tugged away and progressively stolen from him during the night, letting the cool, morning air dust over him like spray from an ocean. You were a fidgety sleeper, he had realized, sometimes even a mumbler, although Wonwoo had never been able to discern what it was you were sluggishly declaring in your dreams.

He turned his head to you, saw the bare groove of your back, shapely like a flower petal, and your arm dug underneath the silk pillow, observing every breath your unconscious body took.

Then, Wonwoo was leaning over you, feeling his fingers sink into your fleshy waist while his lips touched a kiss against your warm cheek. He hoped you wouldn’t mind him using your washroom for a shower.

Afterward, Wonwoo retraced the apartment, finding his shoes a questionable distance apart—one stood square at the front door while the other was left in the hallway leading to your room. His winter jacket was tossed over the arm to the couch, meanwhile his phone involved a more in-depth search. For some reason, he’d left it atop a shelf beside the television, hidden by a clumsy stack of textbooks.

When he tapped the screen, it illuminated some text messages from Vernon that had been sent at around two in the morning—mostly inquiries about the birthday dinner and whether or not Wonwoo had bothered going to the famed and mysterious Room 319.

Though, he opted not to respond, realizing the details he wanted to share with his friend would likely require a sit-down discussion over burgers, fries, and sodas at Solar Pop. Making his way back to the bedroom, Wonwoo carefully creaked open the door to find you half-shoved onto an arm, making tired circles against your eye.

He smiled, coming to sit beside you, handing off the glass of water he poured for himself.

“Are you leaving?” Was the first question you blearily pieced together after accepting the water but not drinking anything from it.

Wonwoo shook his head. “No.”

You managed to sit up properly, the sheets settling around your hips while you continued holding onto the glass. For a moment, you seemed to just observe Wonwoo, your eyes still swollen from sleep.

“Where are you going, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “Nowhere,” Wonwoo laughed, pulling one leg up onto the bed. “I got up to shower. Went and found my things. Got a glass of water, which you’re now holding, by the way.”

You swallowed, looking down at your lap.

“Oh…” after a recollecting pause, you took a sip from it.

Wonwoo smiled, his eyes softening like fresh brown sugar, as he proceeded to unstick some matted hairs from the edge of your face.

“You’re a pretty big sheet stealer,” he said, continuing to spread his fingers about your features, removing fluffs and rubbing off bits of dried spit, “and you seem to like talking, even in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah… I should have told you that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I liked not knowing.”

“Did you?” With a laugh and smile, you drank some more water.

“Yeah. Because it’s you, it makes me adore it even more.”

“I don’t always mumble. I swear. Only sometimes.”

Wonwoo didn’t care. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I guess I should shower, too. Then I’ll change the sheets and get new ones on.” You abruptly raised the blankets at your lap, lifting up a leg to examine something Wonwoo couldn’t see. “Yeah, I definitely need to change the sheets… oh! And take my pill. Fuck. I can’t forget.”

“I can help with the sheets.”

“Okay,” you said while leaning forward to pull open a drawer on your nightstand, revealing a thin, silver cartridge of pills, “thanks.”

After you had showered and gotten dressed in a clean spare t-shirt, you changed the dirtied sheets to your bed together.

Then you and Wonwoo spent some time together in the open, bright living room, lounging on the couch. Maybe you had kissed a few more times, and maybe his naturally cold hands had found their way underneath your loose t-shirt to curiously massage and press along your pretty chest, and maybe you had kissed a little more after that while the sun rays slid up your sensitive skin.

You twisted away from Wonwoo’s lips with a giggle.

“M’kay, that’s enough, or else I’ll need another shower.” You grabbed at Wonwoo’s hands that had been squeezing your breasts.

Although he didn’t want to stop, he listened, relaxing against the pillow he had stuffed between his spine and the arm of the couch, now throwing an elbow behind his head. You were leaning back against him, getting comfy between his legs, and for a few minutes or so, the two of you gazed out those large, floor-length glass windows into the awakening, snow-capped city.

He felt you stir against him.

“You know… sometimes you don’t always speak English.”

Wonwoo itched his eyebrow, chuckling, “what?”

“Last night, like, when I was riding you—” your head tilted back onto his shoulder, beaming him a smile, “—you would start switching languages. In between English and Korean. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He adjusted his glasses, staring down at you while his cheeks became rosy. “I don’t know, it’s just something my brain does automatically. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”

You grinned; eyes sparkling. “When it feels too good?”

Ruffling a hand through his hair, he simply smirked at you.

“Having a front seat view to the most beautiful girl in the world riding me just happens to be something that makes me feel really good.”

You pushed your head up to kiss him, followed by a sweet and brief whisper that he smiled at, “compliment appreciated.”

A few more quiet minutes passed. Wonwoo thought he could spend the entire day just sitting on the couch with you warm in his arms, watching the snow tumble down like wisps of tender willows.

“Wonwoo?”

“Mm?”

You got quiet.

Then, your weight against his chest was gone, and you had half-turned yourself around to look at him, seeming nervous.

He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered, glancing down briefly before soaking him back into your agleam eyes. “I just want to apologize, actually.”

At that, Wonwoo stiffened. “Yeah? What for?”

With a sigh and another anxious moment to fiddle with the rolled-up cuff belonging to his wrinkled dress shirt, you were reserved.

“Ever since we fought, I can't help thinking about it. I mean, I’ve thought about what you said, and the fact you apologized, and explained yourself, and how you gave me time to process it all. You gave me so much grace, even when I felt like I hated you… but… I also said some hurtful things about you… I mean, back then I felt like you deserved it. And, I don’t know… maybe you did? Like, maybe we both needed to just be there, screaming at each other, digging our guts out, throwing up all this stuff to the surface because no one else has ever given us that freedom or made us feel like we could before. Anyway, I just feel like it’s only right that I say sorry, too.”

Scratching at his neck, Wonwoo swallowed. He never thought of it like that. “Uh, sure. If that’s what you feel you need to do. ”

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I really, truly am.”

He smiled, grasping at your hand and threading his fingers with yours. Pangs of regret were flooding your eyes, filling them up until they were undoubtedly teary and Wonwoo had to wipe it all away.

“It’s fine, I swear,” he whispered, moving in closer to you, brushing at your cheek as you sniffled. “Nothing has ever truly changed how I feel about you. You’re incredibly firm but sensitive, and have such fiery passion, and you’re curious about everything, and I know that it hurts so much to live without really knowing yourself. But I see you, and I feel like I know you. I never want to stop knowing you, alright?”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

Your mouth pressed against his, and he tasted the salt from the tears that beaded down the slopes of your cheeks, warm with life.

“I love you.” He felt the whisper touch at his lips. “I really do.”

Wonwoo held onto your face like he was cradling a big pearl. “I love you, too.” Another kiss sealed the expression into felt, tangible emotion. “But honestly, you already knew that.”

Later in the day, you came up to Wonwoo as he ate lunch at the table, only after having disappeared into a distant office space further down the hallway. You dropped before him a clear, plastic duotang, which held a notably thick stack of papers that had quite a weight to it upon picking up. It only took a few flips into the papers for Wonwoo to realize that it was the completed book he used to proofread for you—a series of chronological memories between yourself and the boyfriend you had gradually drifted apart from.

True to your word, you had forged ahead and finished the book alone.

He was proud to hold the evidence.

Wonwoo asked what you planned to do with the book now that it was done. He even wondered if you might let him read some parts he never got to work on, though he understood if you preferred to keep the contents private. As he was in the middle of lifting a hot spoon to his mouth, Wonwoo suddenly paused at hearing your response.

“I think I’ll just shred it.”

You didn’t seem to care.

The decision came easier than pressing a button. There was only one copy of the book, apparently, and you had plans to turn all its pages into literary confetti. But that was a very you thing to do, Wonwoo had come to accept. Writing served many purposes, and it seemed that the purpose you had sought out was met. Somewhere, in all those paragraphs, sentences, letters, and ink, you found the fulfillment you had always ached for. At last, you struck a glimmer of promising gold after digging through all the haze and confusion.

“Sure,” he answered, “shred away.”

—8 MONTHS LATER. END OF JUNE.

“It looks so pathetic!”

“What?! No it doesn’t!”

Peeking up from the mason jar of earthy blue water he’d been swirling together using some dirtied paintbrushes, Wonwoo saw you seated across from him, talking to a very dismayed, upset twelve-year-old girl. Sierra’s little sister, Cora, had enrolled in his landlord’s ceramics class over the summer, and thus every Saturday evening she spent her time moulding unwilling chunks of grey clay alongside other similarly aged students. It was only Cora in the shop since she had been the last to get her teapot in the kiln, taking extra time with every minute detail.

Though, despite her care and attentive pace, Cora was still not pleased with the teapot, leading her to grumble and shake her head.

You were sitting beside her, a hand rubbing along the little girl’s back while she continued scrutinizing her creation. Ever since you moved into Wonwoo’s apartment back in May, Saskia had quite liked you more than her average tenant, and that somehow transformed into an offer to help her teach the summer ceramics class (with pay).

Wonwoo was always there to assist in the clean-up afterward—his favourite part was submerging all the greasy, bristly paintbrushes into a clean jar of water so that he could watch how their colours bled out in thin, swirling hues.

“No, no, no—it’s just bad.”

“I’m telling you. It’s not.”

Cora picked up the lid to the pot, then placed it back down. “There—look—it doesn’t even close properly. And the spout is not spouty enough… it’s too thick, I think. Hardly any tea will go through!”

“Well, I really like it.”

Tucking a tuft of poofy, rust-brown hair behind her ear, Cora gave you a suspecting and funny sort of look that made Wonwoo smile to himself. She was a very shy student, but she talked to you the most.

“You say that about everything I make,” Cora sighed.

“So what?”

“So…” she nibbled on her small lip, looking off to the side, “you have to say that, because you're nice. You’re like my mom. She says she loves everything I make. But then why don’t I ever love it?”

“She loves it because you made it, obviously. And she loves you. I think love changes how we look at things. Even the impractical.” Then, you picked up her teapot and moved it closer. “You know why I like this teapot? Because it shows you’re determined. I mean, look at all those bowls on the newspaper over there—you’re the only one who did the teapot! And you did it mostly by yourself. You wouldn’t even let me help you roll out the clay. So, that’s why I like it. Because I see you in it. And when you tackle it again, you’ll know what to do differently. Plus, you know you can ask me for help, right? You know I’ll always help you.”

The little girl’s freckled face suddenly became less twisted with judgement and frustration. She set her elbows onto the table, scratching at a Hello Kitty bandaid along the back of her hand, while you gave her hair a quick ruffle. Wonwoo started drying off the paintbrushes using paper towel before moving them into the cup labelled “clean” with a piece of tape.

“What should I do with this, then? If it won’t work,” Cora asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now, just leave it with the other stuff. We’ll give it a nice glaze next time around. Make it even prettier. Then you can decide what to do with it—whether or not you want to keep it or smash it on the ground. It’s up to you, Cora.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “Why don’t you turn it into a miniature flower pot or something? Fill it with soil and plant something in it?”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “I like that idea, actually.”

“Me too,” you said, shooting Wonwoo a sly wink that he smiled very stupidly at, “look at this guy over here. Lurking with his good ideas.”

By the time Sierra was available to pick up her sister, Wonwoo had officially finished cleaning all the paintbrushes and whittling tools, as well as replacing the tablecloth with a fresh one. The three of you stood at the base to the shop’s very small stoop, exchanging some general conversation while a sleepy Cora held onto her sister’s hand and leaned her seemingly heavy head against her side.

The sky was a tame yellow shade, not as bright as a buttercup, but something delicate of the like.

“Hey—I heard you guys are planning a vacation!” Sierra chirped, adjusting the car keys in her hand, “is that all true?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, flashing Wonwoo a soft smile, “uh, we decided that we’re gonna spend some time in South Korea. I haven’t visited his family at all. But, yeah. Gonna leave start of August and come back right before October. So, a pretty good chunk of time.”

“No way!” She exclaimed.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Wonwoo commented, sliding his arm around your waist and digging his fingers into your hip. “But my brother won’t shut his mouth about meeting her. And my parents are obviously curious. Besides, there are some great places I want to show off.”

Sierra shook her head. “I’m jealous. And totally sure you guys will have a great experience together. We’ll miss you here, though.”

“Please do,” you laughed, and Sierra pinched your cheek.

She then looked down at her sister, who had her eyes shut.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this little dove home. Thank you so much for helping her at ceramics by the way. She talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You touched at your face, seeming flustered. “Well, I love helping her out. She’s a sweet girl with a lot of will on her shoulders.” Lowering your voice, you moved in closer to Sierra. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute gift she can have while we’re gone.”

After parting ways with Sierra and Cora, you and Wonwoo returned upstairs, back into the apartment to prepare for supper.

Both of you were feeling particularly lazy, and the shiny red tomato he was supposed to chop ended up being ignored in place of eating ice cream straight from its tub.

You were the one who grabbed it—Wonwoo was only following suit as he picked up a spoon and curved some out.

Something else interesting about you that Wonwoo had learned since moving in together was that you didn’t really care to ever sit on a chair, even when you were eating. It was either the sofa, the floor, or the kitchen table, in which you would be holding onto your food even though he always thought how easier it could be if you did sit down properly. The quirk was fun, nonetheless, and Wonwoo had admittedly started looking at the kitchen table in a different light after he proceeded to give you oral on it one night. Consequently, it bloomed a very dangerous habit between the two of you.

A habit that might become drastically less accessible once you two jetted off to his native country for over a month, confined between his parent’s cozy home where he grew up and the two-story apartment his wealthy brother and sister-in-law owned in the glittering heart of South Korea’s Seoul. He was nervous. You were nervous. But at least you were together.

Over the months, your parents had gradually come to accept him as your boyfriend, even if they weren't exactly warmed up to the idea at the start. Wonwoo revisited your home a few times alongside you to help in the explanations of your story and future prospects, although he partially understood that Mingyu was like a precious sapphire to your family and having him out so suddenly was hard to stomach.

He spent years nestling himself a comfortable burrow and smoothing out the bumps to make a crafty façade that, particularly your mother, couldn't help but outwardly adore. Like a son. Like Seokmin, too.

Wonwoo thought Mingyu might give him trouble.

In truth, he'd scarcely seen him, unless transient glimpses of his towering, quickly bustling figure from across a university campus or city street were noteworthy. Obviously, he wasn't inside Mingyu's head and he really had no inclination as to what the boy might be thinking on the occasion he spotted you and Wonwoo hand-in-hand at the park, or sharing breakfast at the café along Sunnyside.

But if Mingyu maintained even half the feelings that Wonwoo did for you, then he was positive it hurt like fucking hell.

Of all people, Wonwoo supposed he himself knew best.

—AUGUST 1ST.

“Wonwoo!”

He closed his dresser drawer, almost slamming his fingers inside. Your voice echoed from the living room, sounding hectic.

“Yes? What’s up!”

“The taxi’s here!”

Fuck. He immediately thought. The time was flying by.

Wonwoo had made a gigantic list of what to pack, but over time he kept adding and taking things away from it. Now, it was early morning, soft rain and cracks of bursting light coming down outside, and he was doing a final clean-sweep of the bedroom as well as his poorly scribbled list to ensure everything he needed was with him.

Quickly approaching the window, Wonwoo glanced outside to see the cab parked at the curb. Fuck. Again. Vernon always said he would happily provide you two a ride to the airport, but then the boy was unsurprisingly wrapped back into some trouble, and Wonwoo hadn’t seen his best friend in over a week.

Graciously, however, Vernon had given him a heads up and a proper goodbye beforehand. He’d even left him a voicemail to listen to, which immediately jumped into Wonwoo’s brain at random as he scrambled around the bedroom in search of his phone.

“Just give me one more minute!” Wonwoo shouted.

There was a pause on your end, and then a sigh.

“Do you need help?”

“No—all good. I promise. Can you let the cab driver know?”

“I will.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo sang, finding the phone blended into his bedsheets, then proceeding to open his inbox. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” You shouted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”

He let Vernon’s message play while also tossing his suitcase onto the bed, stuffing in a few more last-minute grabs with utter clumsiness.

“Heyyy, Glasses! How are things? I’m shooting you this cute little message at arounddd—oh! Looks like it’s two in the mornin’! It’s two in the fuckin’ mornin’ and I’m pulled up outside this dude’s house all ‘cause he can’t pay me back for my good, hard services. It’s nothin’ serious, though. Don’t get all uptight like usual. You know I’m good at handlin’ stuff and keepin’ my cool. Probably my better qualities. Anyway, I’m bored as fuck. I’ve spun this Lloyd CD about four times and I just can’t listen to that dude anymore. He can sing, though.

I am pissed you’re leavin’ me. And I’m pissed she’s leavin’ me, too. You guys are what I look forward to whenever I drive down into that shithole city. Well, I think just about every city’s a shithole city. In fact, the city I’m in now is probably more of a shithole… Seokmin texted me the other day—said he wants to talk—which is vague as fuck and to be honest, I’ve been ignorin’ it ‘cause I can’t get myself to give a god damn. But maybe I’ll hear him out. That guy was a cutie, wasn’t he? I still think you’re a bit cuter. And better at mini-put.

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re down there… it got me thinkin’ about the night when we first met. The New Year’s Eve party. You remember that pretty well, don’t’chya? I saw you come in with those guys—they didn’t look like your crowd at all—but then after a while you were alone. Wanderin’ around. It didn’t even seem like you knew anyone else was there. You had the blankest look on your face. Like you were stuck in a loop and you didn’t even know it. I don’t know that I felt pity or anything… hell, maybe I felt a little. I just talked to ‘ya ‘cause I wanted to know if you knew where you even were.

You knew you were at some stupid, loud, awful fuckin’ house party jammed with unfamiliar faces. You knew how much you hated bein’ there. But I don’t think you actually knew how you got there, or why, or what was supposed to happen next. It kinda drew me to you. I wanted to understand it. And you gave me the weirdest look, too, when I stopped you. But once I got you outside, away from all the bullshit, you loosened up just a bit and I realized I was talkin’ to this smart, well-rounded, thoughtful guy who was just a little lost in the weeds.

I know you didn’t really care about me like that. I was just some jumped-up weirdo who could give you mint weed at a sweet price. But I still liked you… I dunno… other people see you differently when they care a whole lot, don’t they? I guess they see things about you that others can’t, or they know exactly what you could be when others don’t. They see stuff even you can’t see. It’s like a superpower, I think… my best superpower is probably makin’ girls giggle. I’ve got a lot of charm, wouldn’t you agree? Ha—anyway—stay safe on your trip, tell Her that I’ll miss her a lot, too—oh! Oh!

Fuck! That’s it. That little fucker is comin’ outside—he can’t resist his two am darts on the porch. God bless you, nicotine! Okay, uh, guess this is me hangin’ up on you. Later, Wonwoo!”

At that point, everything Wonwoo needed was packed. But he’d taken the additional time to complete Vernon’s voicemail, now sitting on the edge of his bed while staring out into the early, glimmering rain shower and the water droplets collecting against his window.

Then, Wonwoo glanced down at the laptop he had open.

He hadn’t written in… months. Not even months—it had been over a year since Wonwoo wrote. And, somehow, it felt good not to write.

It felt necessary to step away from the craft.

Besides, writing would always be there. Just because he hadn’t filled up a document on his computer with harmoniously arranged words, or penned anything down in the journal he used to scribble poetry in, that didn’t make him not a writer. In fact, it could be crucial to know when to step away from something—when to let go of an invisible weight keeping one from progressing. While he hadn’t thought about it in months, it floated to the surface of his mind that there may be something he should let go.

The unfinished book. 01.

Wonwoo deleted it. Simple as that.

Shoving the laptop into his shoulder-sling bag, Wonwoo made sure to knab his journal from the nightstand before he left, just in case anything did excite him with a crack of inspiration as he embarked on his newest chapter with you at his side. Rolling his suitcase hurriedly behind him, Wonwoo rushed out onto the street, feeling the rain graze his hair and skin, while you were leaned against the cab, arms folded and teeth anxiously raking over your bottom lip.

He peppered the cab driver in apologies while he helped shove the suitcase into the trunk.

“Liar—” you grumbled after sliding into the cab, undoing the buttons on your coat, “—you said one minute, not one lifetime.”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo laughed, removing his glasses to rub off the mist and dew, “but that voice mail from Vernon distracted me.”

“Let me do it,” you said, taking his glasses with a sigh, “we should be fine. I know we’ll make it on time… I guess I’m just on edge.”

He watched you massage at the lenses gently with a sleeve. The driver climbed back into the cab, now pulling away from the pottery shop and driving toward the beam of light that sliced through the dense clouds, like the sun was handling a giant blade.

“Everything’s gonna work out, I promise… and I already told you that we’ll be staying with Bohyuk first, right? Him and Nari?”

Handing the glasses back to Wonwoo, you nodded.

“Yeah… god—I hope he likes me.”

“Oh, he will. You guys are pretty similar, actually.”

The look you gave him warbled slightly.

“What if that’s a bad thing? Every time you tell me a story about your brother, it usually involves you loathing him for something.”

“Those stories took place years ago.”

“But the feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo settled his hand over top yours, giving your fingers a soothing squeeze. He knew you wanted to make the perfect first impression. After all, first impressions were not something that could be easily taken back or erased, unless the people you were meeting were quite forgiving. And Bohyuk was fortunately the forgiving type.

It was only time that Wonwoo exercise the quality as well.

Leaning in close to your face, Wonwoo gazed into your eyes, watching their frantic nature become still like the surface of a calm pond.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?” He murmured.

Huffing out an intense, long breath, you nodded.

“Alright… can I have a kiss, please?”

Lifting his hand to graze against the side of your cheek, he paused to admire your beauty for a moment, only to properly cup your face and push his lips to yours—which tasted sweet and balmy—before feeling you push back firm. He proceeded to give you another soft kiss for good measure, one that cured you to smile all fluttery and coy against his mouth until he was inevitably smiling, too.

In fact, Wonwoo only ever found himself smiling that hard when he was with you.

—END.

heyyyy :] ramble incoming...

first and foremost, ABOVE ALL ELSE, i just want to say thank you! i know this was a very, very long fic for me to be uploading on tumblr. this site is not the most fanfic friendly (or creation friendly for that matter) so stomaching the fact that this needed to be split up into so many parts was like a dagger to the heart! for those who decided to buckle up and lock into this journey, i honestly thank you so much <3 life was not always kind in the process of writing this (hence the fact it took me 2 years, plus some extra) but i was so dedicated to seeing this story through! a lot of the frustration i was feeling toward myself was funnelled into wonwoo's character, so this is quite personal :3

nonetheless, i hope there's something, even a single thing, someone else can take away from the story as well! both wonwoo and her as characters introduce their own unique themes--wonwoo (at the core) is more so about learning to let go in order to progress, whereas her is about using creative tools to help guide the search for identity. i think that writing has helped me learn a lot about myself (even uncomfy, icky things) so i wanted that to be represented through her.

of course, these are not the only things they stand for! but these are the elements i based their characters on, to which other concepts sprouted from. i also loved the idea of pairing someone as lost and misguided and emotionally stunted as wonwoo with this girl who seems so bossy and firm. at first he doesn't like it, but that was really what he needed to accept some of the flaws holding him back. idk if you're familiar with the EXCUSE ME! HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES! meme but that's what comes to mind when i think of them xD

additionally: special shout out to vernon. he became a much bigger part of this story than i originally intended. he is in some ways wonwoo's foil. vernon knows he's flawed but that's sorta his strength and what makes him genuine. he witnesses wonwoo's entire journey, so at times he also feels like our role, the "reader" and gives wonwoo some wisdomy parting words without rly knowing it (but that's part of his charm <3 i don't want vernon's emotional intelligence to be underrated, which is also an ode to the conversation wonu & her have back in the museum. wonwoo knows there are different types of intelligence and emotionally he is lackinggg).

also small s/o to seokmin. SORRY! HAD TO DO IT!

this has been my slowest slowburn! i wasn't sure how late they were going to kiss. but i didn't want to force anything. i wanted to add the moment when i felt it was surely right! also, if you haven't yet listened to the playlist and you're curious, i recommend listening to the very last song, writer, by ellie goulding. i've been listening to that song for many years, and one day it hit me how coincidentally her lyrics overlap with some of the fic's storyline!

i think it adds a nice final touch <3

LASTLY!

upon contemplation, i will be uploading this fic to ao3 in the same chaptered format it's been posted here! i realize the convenience to bookmarking on that site (and it also doesn't give people's phones a heart attack when trying to read something lengthy) so i hope that appeases some of you who wish to reread with more leisure! i'll be under the username @/uglypluto!

i'll upload the final chapter (this chapter) to ao3 probably between late sunday & early monday.

THANK YOU x100! 💕

[endless-weightless]

Ford Pines x GN!reader headcanons!

I'm surprised it took me this long to get into Gravity Falls. Anyways this has both SFW and NSFW so beware. There's also a brief mention of being AFAB as a possibility but other than that it's completely gender neutral (I'm 99% sure, I didn't proofread too well lol).

SFW

Right off the bat, I’m saying he’s autistic because so am I and I said so.

If you’re someone who needs reassurance or is generally anxious/paranoid about anything he’ll go into long (often scientific) explanations to ease your mind and also throw in some fun facts.

Both a listener and a yapper. He loves nothing more than the sound of your voice but also loves being able to spout all sorts of things about his research and interests while you stare at him lovingly.

Can’t sleep unless you’re next to him. You don’t even need to be cuddling, your presence is just the one thing he needs to fall asleep.

That being said, he will NEVER pass up an opportunity to cuddle. Watching a movie? Cuddling. Working at his desk in the lab? Cuddling on his lap. Cooking something in the kitchen? He’s got his arms wrapped around you as he presses loving kisses into your temple.

He rarely swears, but when he does it always makes you do a double-take (and maybe giggle because it sounds so odd coming from him).

Probably tried weed once or twice in the '70s and was somewhat part of the psychedelic rock scene. Stan has some old photos of him during that time somewhere but Ford is absolutely mortified by the idea of you seeing him in bell-bottom jeans.

It doesn’t matter how long you two have been together, every time he sees you he feels the same as he did the day you two met. Ford will never stop becoming flustered at the sight of you.

Post-Weirdmaggedon he became very anxious at the thought of you being out alone or not being near him. He feels like he needs to be on guard at all times so that he can protect you. He eventually calms down after some reassurance from you and a fuck ton of therapy.

While he lacks some emotional intelligence he’s actually very attentive and knows exactly what you need when you’re upfront about your feelings. As long as you’re not vague and communicate, he knows what to do to help you.

Adding onto that, I think he briefly studied psychology in college so he’d have a pretty good understanding of any mental health issues you might have.

Said “No more Mr Nice Guy” one time and hasn’t heard the end of it from anyone.

NSFW

Has to stop himself from cumming too quickly when you tell him how good he’s making you feel. Stroking his ego (and other things) is the best way to get him horny.

Will always ask you for consent no matter what it is. You could be mid-fuck and he’d still ask if he could put his hands on your hips.

This is just my personal headcanon but I believe while he didn’t really have too much experience before he got stuck on the other side of the portal (probably hooked up with Fiddleford once or twice tho), I fully believe that after a few years of dimension-hopping, he would’ve had a few one-night stands (mans gotta blow off some steam). So when he gets the chance to fuck you, a real human from his dimension, he’s more than ecstatic, especially since he’s picked up more than a few tricks over the past thirty years.

Knows how to use all twelve of his fingers.

Since Ford was sucked into the portal in the early ’80s and spent thirty years in there, he’s super confused when you mention shaving down there or being embarrassed about your body hair (if you do either) since the last time he was around everyone preferred going all natural.

This one’s less sexy but I’m putting it here anyways. He avoided taking off his shirt for ages since he didn’t want you to see all the scars he’d gotten over the years or any of the tattoos related to the things he did in the portal, especially the ones related to Bill. Surprisingly not as insecure about his “Flirty Gal” tramp stamp.

Doesn’t understand that he’s ridiculously hot. 

You jokingly said “Yes sir” one time and he got hard so quickly.

Although he does rather enjoy you taking the lead.

Loves experimenting with cock warming and edging. Literally. He’ll time the both of you and have everything written down somewhere and draw a graph with extra info like if you’re someone with a menstrual cycle and how that affects the results.

[theraccoonslair]

Sacrifice (NSFW)

[Giving this a second chance because a friend and their kind words helped me see it under a different light.]

Characters: (Heian Era) Ryomen Sukuna x AFAB!reader

Synopsis: You've been chosen by your village to be the annual human sacrifice for the King of Curses. Little you know you're gonna quench a different kind of hunger...

Words: 3600⁓

Note: Reader is afab but I tried to keep anything else as gender neutral as possible, so description of body should be ambiguous. "sex", "labia" and "clit" used to describe genitalia. No pronouns used. This is a NSFW text, so please MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THANK YOU.

CW: mentions of cannibalism, blindfold, manhandling, a bit of blood play, pet names (reader is once called "good little thing"), fingering (mouth, vagina, anus), double penetration (yes, Sukuna has two dicks), a bit of edging and choking.

It is not really how you expected it to go. In your head, you always pictured this moment to be ceremonious, solemn, grandiose even. Your logical brain always knew it wasn't the case, but you didn't expect to be treated like mere pounds of meat: blindfolded, gagged, hog-tied and very unceremoniously thrown in one of his mansion's chambers. Yet here you are now, trying to even your breath, your remaining free senses trying to take in as much of your surrounding as they can, a feeling of impending dread crawling up your spine and covering you in cold sweat.

You still don't know what fate will await you the moment the King of Curses is going to enter the room. Ryomen Sukuna is famous for his voracious appetite: is he going to throw you to his servant and let them slowly cook you over low heat, is he going to straight up eat you like an appetizer, or is he going to toy with you like a child not so willing to consume the offered meal? You don't know and you're not that sure you want to find out either. But it is your duty, as the chosen one for this year, and there is no way of bailing out of it now. Well, there had never been a way in any case.

The sound of barefoot steps approaching the room makes your entire body freeze, ears pricking up to catch even the faintest shift of feet against the wooden floor. He's near, he's coming. The steps come to a halt just outside the door, but he doesn't enter immediately, instead letting a couple of minutes pass in complete silence. A hundred and twenty seconds of pure agony where your heartbeat starts to gallop in your chest and the cold sweat covering you penetrates right through to the bone marrow, silence so deafening it turns into a ring in your ears.

The door slides open in its tracks and Ryomen "the King of Curses" Sukuna enters the room. His presence is enough to immediately nail you motionless in your spot on the floor, even if your blindfold is keeping you safe from his sight, a thing you both find to be a blessing and a curse. You can't see him, but there's no need for it: his aura is so powerful you don't have any problem in pin-pointing where he is in the room. Guessing what he intends to do is a different kettle of fish tho, and you return to concentrate all your focus in what your ears can catch, but he's very silent, just the brush of feet on the tatami and of his clothes on him betraying the little movements he's making.

Circling around you, he's taking his sweet time to do anything relevant, the tension putting you back in that sense of dread that took over your body earlier. The almost inaudible sounds of his measured steps drive you crazy, breath starting to hitch and limbs trembling from the exertion of their tied-up position.

What is he gonna do? How am I going to die? Am I really ready? Oh gosh I don't want to die...ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods...why did they choose me?? WHY ME??? WHY M-

Warm, calloused hand is suddenly on you, making you somehow jump in your spot, your frantic thoughts a distraction powerful enough for you to not realize Sukuna approached and is now sitting at your side. Again, you don't need to actually see him for you to be intimidated: you feel him towering over you, his body radiating an aura of dominance and reverence, and again you find yourself frozen in your position, feeling like a frog ready to be dissected by a med student.

With slow yet firm motions, his big hand wanders on your body, barely covered by the haori you wore for the brief ceremony right before your offering. His touch is inquisitive, fingers digging from time to time into the softness of your flesh, as to asses the quality of the meat, thumb brushing in particular spots that catch his interest. Feeling your distress, he tries to sooth it, powerful digits hitting in the right spots and slowly turning your rigid muscles into something more tender, even though they don't completely surrender to his touch.

A second hand follows the first and their warmth dissipates the cold that lingered in your bones, making you relax a bit more. You can feel how he is more curious now, hands daring to venture under your clothes, groping, pinching, squeezing what is now his property. Finally, his hands stop their wandering on top of your tied limbs and, much to your surprise, he starts to undo the knots until your limbs fall with a thud on the floor, their stiffness making you realize how long you have been kept in that uncomfortable position. Then, as some miracle your mind have never dared to conceive, one hand goes to the back of your head and undoes the piece of cloth that has been put around your mouth.

Free to move and free to speak. Your mind still kinda processing those facts and you're turned around and on your back by his foot, that places itself on your stomach and pins you down. So big it cover the entirety of your midsection, the pressure is enough to keep you still, but not painful nor uncomfortable.

"Massage your wrists and ankles, make the sensitivity come back to your limbs" he speaks -no, he orders- for the first time since he entered the room and his voice sounds and echoes inside you like the rumbling of an approaching storm. You don't even think about disobeying him, so you force your hands up, numb fingers trying to move and do as he commanded: it takes you several minutes, but you gradually feel your blood rush back to your extremities and make them tingle.

You are still massaging the markings of the ropes on your wrists, his foot still planted on your stomach, when you feel his face descending on yours, just to stop at mere inches before your skins can actually touch. Your body stills, uncertain of his next move, and your mind starts to race through all the meat-based recipes you could possibly know, wondering how Sukuna will like your flesh best. His hot breath tickles your neck as his nose finds his way to the soft skin just under your jaw, and takes a good sniff of it. Involuntary goosebumps forms all over your body and you hear him chuckle directly into your ear, hair raising on the back of your neck.

"Are you afraid of me?" his voice his low, unexpectedly pleasant, and there's no threat in his tone, not yet at least.

You ponder for just a moment over your response, not wanting to upset the King of Curses, knowing well that your purpose is to win his favour over for another year on behalf of your village, but you also know that Sukuna is a man who doesn't like being lied to, so you give him what he's asking for.

"Yes... and no - you answer, your own voice sounding so feeble in your ears, but you can sense his brow rising and filling the silence with unworded surprise and curiosity, so you continue - I dread what awaits for me at the end of this night, what you're going to do with me...but there's a part of me that now feels...otherwise."

Honest thought it is, as you imagined his behaviour towards you to be indifferent at best and straight up predatory at worst. Well, he is predatory, something you muse is carved deeply in the very essence of his being, but right now he also feel almost...generous? If someone asked you before the ceremony, you would have never imagine that he would do such courtesy of freeing you of (almost) all of your restraints.

His chuckle is latched with amusement and when he talks again, huskily and low, his voice makes something warm stir into your lower abdomen, now free from the weight of his foot. "Good."

Giving you no time to ponder over his response, sharp teeth suddenly sink into your shoulder, making you yelp in surprise and pain. Delicious you may taste to him, as he doesn't let go of you, but bite harder, until his teeth break your skin and draw blood.

So this is how I go, uh? Consumed raw and alive by a monster in human skin...

Yet again Ryomen Sukuna surprises you, as he doesn't tear the first piece of your flesh away, but licks and sucks at your blood, before closing the wound with his Reversed Technique. Is he toying with you? Most likely. As it turns out, you seem to prove yourself as an entertaining one, enough to convince him into sparing your existence on this heart for a few hours more.

A shiver runs up your body, when you feel all of his four hands on you all at once. They quickly take care of your haori, tearing it into shreds with just one motion, and leaving you completely naked at his mercy. Have you thought it wrong? Does he really want to devour you right now and there?

And much to your surprise, instead of tearing and breaking as you thought they would, his hands really start to palm you, almost gently, the upper pair going up to your chest while you feel the lower ones caressing down your sides and legs. Eyes close under the blindfold and you start to tremble: of all the possible outcome of the night, this was not included in the ones you contemplated.

One of your nipples is reached by his big, deft fingers and is immediately pinched and twisted, making you squirm under him. "S-sukuna-sama..." you try to stop him, or at least slow him down, but he takes care of you in such a quick manner, that it takes your brain a full minute to realize what he has done: mouth over your other nipple, his free upper hand roughly pushing index and middle finger in your mouth, successfully silencing you, while his lower hands spread your legs open and keep them in position.

It takes you another minute to steady both your breath and your body, after the initial shock. The fact that you're unable to see starting to affect you more now that your body is completely immobilized again, but you try to calm down and slow your erratic heartbeat, fully aware that you had never had a say about the whole night. You are here just to give whatever he wants to take from you.

Sukuna waits patiently, lazily licking at your nipple and slowly pumping his fingers into your mouth at the same time, covering both your chest and chin with saliva. Once you let out a long breath through your nose and let your body relax under him, he resumes his attack and gives more vigour to his actions, the intensity of it all making you arch your back. His tongue is big and rough against your nipple, circling around the bud without mercy, while his big fingers relentlessly fuck your open mouth, almost leaving you without breath. It's all so intense, you struggle a bit to comprehend all the sensations and feelings travelling around your body all at once: the firm grasp on your legs, his calloused digits against your tongue, the sharp teeth that scratch your skin from time to time, the apprehension of blood being spilled again lingering in the back of your mind.

The grip on one of your thigh leaves and you feel his fingertips brushing the area around your sex, reaching your labia and spreading them open, the first traces of your arousal starting to drip out. He lets out a hum of approval and slips two of his fingers inside of you, making you moan around the ones that are still pumping inside your mouth. They immediately start with a fast pace, both set of fingers going in and out of you at the same time, and almost send your brain in short circuit. Too many fingers in and on you, too many stimuli calling for your attention.

Clinging to one of his arms, again you try to steady yourself in that sea of sensations that washes over you in big, strong waves. The room starts to be filled with lewd sounds: the squelching of your juices, his slurping on your nipple, your muffled moans, his occasional humming.

Once you think you got a hold of yourself tho, he starts to scissors his fingers, nicely spreading you open while your walls try to clench on them. You can feel the smirk on his lips, how is enjoying teasing you so much, taking you to your limits and making you test them, only for him. The sensation at the beginning makes you go tense again, not in a hurtful way as Sukuna seems strangely careful not to harm you, but in the way only of two of his fingers alone seem to fill you up to the brim. You feel them stretching and spreading, exploring your insides to find all your most vulnerable and sensitive spots: they press here, move in a circling motion there, and every time without fail, they make you react in the most delicious way.

Without warning, you feel another finger making its way into your entrance to join the other two, and a wave of anxiety tries to take hold of your brain: if you fell so full with two big fingers already inside, how is it going to be with a third one?

Frantically grabbing the arm that’s taking care of your mouth, with the last remnants of coherence left you try to ask for mercy, but your words are strangled by his fingers, forced to go back from where they came. Whines, moans, and grunts are the only sounds you apparently are allowed to produce, but you’re sure that, even if intelligible words had come out of your mouth, the King of Curses would not have had ears for them.

The knot that was building inside your lower abdomen is dangerously near to snap, but you try to keep it at bay, not sure what Sukuna really wants: does he intend to torture you all night long, or does he really wants to see you lose yourself in the pleasure he’s giving you? You look up at him even if you can’t see him due to your blindfold, so you miss his mischievous grin plastered on his lips, matching with the hungry stare that had his pupils overtake his crimson irises.

Your body has probably given you away, as he lowers his head until his mouth is brushing against the shell of your ear and whispers huskily “Don’t hold it from me, let yourself go and give it to your King” and going in pair with his sultry words is the tongue of his abdomen mouth, treacherously teasing your clit with its tip, moving slowly at first and then quickly taking up the pace.

It’s too much, it’s oh so fucking good, and it all overwhelms you.

And you give it to him.

Your orgasm hits you so hard you spasm and shake, your walls clenching hard on Sukuna’s fingers still deep sheathed inside of you. Lewd moans try to escape your muffled mouth while his second mouth laps and slurps at your spilled juices, his low chuckle all you can hear above the furious rushing of blood in your ears.

It takes you quite a few minutes to come down from your high, minutes where the King of Curses seems to be ever so patient, leaving you now free to regain your breath and composure. Your breathing returns regular and the roaring in your ears subside as well. Finally back in this plane of existence and you find yourself feeling his not yet satisfied hungry aura, looming expectantly over you, and you know the night has just only begun.

As if you are but just a mere rag-doll, he grabs you by your hips and turns you over, your hips then immediately raised until you have your ass up in the air and your face still plastered on the floor. No problems for your bottoms to be taken in a handful of his, big and calloused palms covering your flesh with no effort, grabbing, squeezing and pinching to their delight. Pressing you against himself and through the fabric of the clothes that are soon to be discarded, you realise how much of a demon he his.

You know that he possesses some attributes that barely classifies him as "human": unsettling double pair of cold eyes, two sets of muscular arms, and an additional very big mouth on his abdomen. He has double of almost everything... and apparently, he has double the normal amount of dick as well. You tense. But there aren't any other choices, are there? So you just have to relax, and do your best.

Inhale and exhale.

You convince your muscles to let go of the tension, becoming more pliable in Sukuna's hands, who starts to manhandle you even more eagerly. "Good little thing" he murmurs, the praise adding to the warmth that is slowly but relentlessly pooling in you again.

Making your flesh his playground, Sukuna continues to take care of it, now with his two dicks joining as players alongside his hands: one slides itself through your still soaked folds, the other mirrors the movement between your butt cheeks. From your position, you hear him make a strange sound, something near satisfaction not quite achieved. Your mind buzzes with thoughts about what you could have done to upset him, but after a moment you feel your fears being vanquished: a string of spit slowly descends where your skins touch and he resumes his stroking motions, spreading it nicely on your rear entrance.

A couple of times again, the amount of saliva being more and more every time, until you finally hear his satisfied hum rumbling low in his chest while now his cock slide easily on you. The motion of both of them on your private parts starts to have the desired effect on you and you start to move your hips in unison, seeking the friction your body craves.

However, he doesn’t indulge you immediately, detaching himself from you just enough to spit another time and let one of his fingers spreading it and prodding at your butthole. He enters slowly, almost gently, giving you time to adjust to the intrusion, before starting to gradually move his finger inside of you. Again, he leisurely explores your insides, taking notes of every one of your reactions and enjoying seeing you giving up all your restraints for him.

Not gagged by his fingers, you now let all your sweet sounds fall from your lips like a cascade, Sukuna’s name resonating loud and clear in between moans and whimpers. In the temporary absence of his cock, one of his hands sneaks under you, finding your puffed labia and your swollen clit and making you reach new notes in the musical scale of your pleasure.

When he takes all of his teasing fingers away and out of you, you let out a whine in protest, turning your head to look at him above your shoulder, even if you can’t see him. He gazes back at you with the same wolfish grin from before, while he slides both of his dicks inside of both your entrances at the same time. Eyes shut and mouth gaping in a soundless oh, you feel the first wave of him hitting you when he bottoms out.

Having you all ready and prepared with his finger, he doesn’t waste much time and just lets a couple more droplets of saliva down, before starting to move into you with a lively pace. And while you’re being fucked by two dicks, four hands are all over you body, wandering on chest, hips, clit, shoulders, neck, mouth: no part of you is being left untended for and soon enough your brain find itself bombarded by stimuli again.

The waves becoming bigger and stronger at every thrust, you drown under the intensity of his squall. The pleasure engulfs your body and threatens to throw you off the cliff, but the King senses your imminent climax and slows down, eliciting another frustrated whimper from you. And, as a cat who plays with their prey, the King takes a liking to this little game and shoves you almost off the edge to just catch you back before your fall for a few more times, until you’re a sobbing mess in his arms.

One of his hands comes to your throat and raises until you are flushed against his big chest, his low panting in synchrony with the squelching sounds made by the connections of your bodies. A quick clench and the air is briefly cut from entering your lungs, your brain soaking in the waves of pain and pleasure from the momentary lack of oxygen.

“Su-sukuna-sam..aaaa...puh-please..!”

His pace becomes more wild and intense, his cocks spreading you in the most fulfilling and delicious way, your second orgasm threatening to explode any moment now. But he’s not satisfied yet, he wants you to crumble under him completely so he finds his way to your clit and teases it, while your shoulder is once again subject to the attention of his teeth.

You finally fall from the cliff and it’s all white and oh so intense.

---

When you regain consciousness, you realize your blindfold is gone and you can finally see the man in the room with you, lazily munching some dried persimmons. He gives you one, an offering you gladly accept, your body aching in every joint and muscles you posses as you move yourself in a seated position.

“Hope you’re hungry as I am – he says with an husky tone, while offering you another fruit after you devoured the first one – because that was just the appetizer.”

[sleepysnk]

a/n: this is a repost. i hope y’all enjoy! <3 also sorry if my characterization of oliver is ooc or weird!! i tried my best </3.

pairings: oliver aiku x fem!reader

warnings: college au, friends with benefits, mentions of hookups, alcohol consumption (they’re not drunk tho), reader n oliver have feelings, possessive behaviors, mentions of jealousy, brief mention of sae itoshi x reader, nsfw, smut, jealous sex, slight exhibitionism (they’re at a party), bathroom sex, use of pet names (baby, my girl, babe, princess), dirty talk, very brief choking, creampie, rough sex.

synopsis: you and oliver had been hooking up for several months. your agreement with one another was never meant to be taken seriously by any means, but all of that begins to change a few months in and when oliver sees you talking with his roommate, sae, he can’t help but want you all to himself.

are you mine? ft. oliver aiku

The sight of multi colored strobe lights dancing along the walls of the party you were at filled your vision as you walked through the crowds of people around you. The music was vibrating throughout the house, making it unbelievably hard to hear inside of the living room you had now entered. 

You were currently searching for your friend that had disappeared into the loads of people who attended the party. Isagi always had a habit of wandering off with his other friends and finding random girls to flirt with. However, that didn’t stop you from having a good time at the party you had been invited to. It was one of the more popular ones that were held off campus. You felt kind of lucky since these events were usually pretty private depending on the person, but you were one of the people who had received an invite from the man who was hosting it himself. Kunigami never failed to throw some sick parties. He always knew how to get people hyped and provided the essentials to make a party fun. Drinks, marijuana, etc. He knew it all and always had a guy for anything that was requested at the party. 

Not to mention, the place he owned was huge and there was always enough space for masses of people to attend without the rooms feeling stuffy. Though, that was sort of inevitable considering that it was nearing the end of the semester and summer was approaching. It would be humid inside the house no matter how much space he had. 

You turned the corner and scanned the room for any signs of Isagi. There were so many people inside the kitchen that it made it almost impossible to differentiate who was who, but it was obvious that your friend was nowhere in sight. It sort of disappointed you, but you didn’t want to spend the entire evening by yourself. There were all kinds of people at that party and you didn’t want to run into the wrong person on your own. You figured you could message him and find out the details of his location. He couldn’t have gone very far, right? 

You were about to pull your phone out of the waistband of your skirt, but halted when you saw someone you knew very well standing just a couple feet away. 

Oliver Aiku, your friends with benefits. 

That’s what you’d like to call him. 

You and Oliver had been hooking up for several months prior to the party you were at. He was one of the first guys you met during your second semester of college, and you both clicked the minute you came across one another. Oliver was a sweet talker. He knew how to get you flustered and your cheeks burning. One thing led to another, and you both hooked up that night with each other. He made you feel like you were on the moon from how great the pleasure was. He also made you cum at least twice the entire evening, and that was a first for you. Most of the men at your campus never knew what the hell to do with their dicks, so it was a surprise to see that Oliver knew what he was doing. It was like he was already familiar with your body and he did everything to make you feel so fucking good. 

It didn’t end there, though.

You saw Oliver more than you had anticipated. He would sometimes appear at the dining hall you were eating at, or he would be walking around campus with his friends. Each time, he always made it known that he saw you. Whether it was a smirk or a little wink that no one else noticed but you. He was attractive. He was fully aware of what he was doing, so you gladly gave in the next time you saw him at another party. You ended up having sex with him yet again and it was even more erotic than the last time. He was just too hard to resist and you often craved him more than you liked to admit. Oliver Aiku had become an addiction you couldn’t get over, and he felt the same way about you. 

He was the one who proposed the idea of a hookup agreement with you. He told you that he couldn’t stop thinking of you on a daily basis, but he wasn’t searching for something serious like a committed relationship. You felt the same way on the topic and agreed to start a friend with benefits with the man. It was just casual sex. Sometimes you’d call him up to let him eat you out until your voice was almost gone from how hard you had been screaming his name, or he would be the one to reach out to you for some head. It was simple. 

Well, it was supposed to be.

As the months went on, there had been a connection formed between you both. Neither of you had the courage to drop the bomb on each other, so you both remained silent on the feelings that brewed inside you both. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, and you knew that. However, you just couldn’t help but feel a tug inside your chest whenever Oliver would be speaking with another girl in front of you. You knew he was free to do whatever he wanted, but you just couldn’t shake that feeling. Oliver wasn’t yours and you weren’t his, so that same topic applied to you as well. Though, there wasn’t anybody else like Oliver. Nobody could fuck you better than he did and you tried to find someone who could, but you never found that person. You figured at some point he would get bored and just find someone better. To be fair, Oliver was quite relevant on campus. He played soccer for the university team and he had a lot of friends. He was bound to find someone else and you would just end up as strangers.

Seeing Oliver at the party was no surprise. He was everywhere and he’d definitely make a move to speak to you. The fact that you two knew one another wasn’t a secret, but nobody was aware of what you did behind closed doors with him. 

You were standing there for way too long. It didn’t take a while for Oliver to shift his gaze onto you. Once his eyes latched onto you, that familiar smirk made itself on his features. Your cheeks burned the moment you made eye contact with your sneaky link. He was around a few of his friends, but he could care less for the mindless conversations they were having. All he could focus on was you. 

His eyes explored your body that looked absolutely perfect in the dress you were wearing. It hugged all of the right places and showed off everything he loved to see. Blood was rushing to his dick already and it made him shift around to hide it. Oliver was practically undressing you with his gaze and he couldn’t get enough. He decided to send you a text to get the memo through to you. He didn’t want his friends becoming suspicious of his sudden absence, so sending a message would do just fine to him. 

The moment you saw Oliver whip his phone out of his pocket, you knew what he was about to do. He had done it plenty of times before. It was like a secret code shared between the two of you. 

Your phone vibrated, bringing your attention down to your device. Oliver had sent you a few messages and you decided to read them rather than ignore them. 

Oliver: come here

Oliver: you look so pretty <3

You looked up at Oliver who was leaning against the countertop with his drink in his hand. He honestly looked kind of dumb standing there, swirling it around like he was at a bar but regardless you began to make your way over to him. There were several people who passed by you on the way there, but you eventually made it to Oliver who seemed very happy to see you beside him. 

Oliver could be such a tease sometimes. He liked to mess with you in so many ways and you honestly never got tired of it. Though, sometimes he did get on your nerves. He would drive you nuts by telling some weird jokes or even making shitty pickup lines to make you laugh, but he did it all to see you crack a smile. That pretty grin only deserved to be made by him, nobody else. He never liked to admit that he was possessive over you, but at times, it was very fucking obvious. There was an occasion where he gripped the steering wheel a little too tight when you mentioned a male classmate that had been asking you to study with him for a test. He never liked when other people had their eyes on you. It was kind of wrong of him, but he just couldn’t help himself. You were just too delicate to let some random guy mess with you or your heart for that matter. 

Once you were next to him, his friends didn’t really bat an eye. They were well aware of you and didn’t usually care that you were around. You were thankful for that because sometimes guys could be so weird about that kind of stuff. Luckily, they were fairly chill and never really said much besides a hello or a how are you. 

Oliver turned his head to meet you. His eyes shifted towards your pretty lips that were shiny with lipgloss. He was so tempted to makeout with you right then and there, but he had to keep his cool and act right. He didn’t need you to become a mess because he was trying to kiss you in front of his other friends. “How’s your night been so far, babe? Got anything interesting to tell me?” he took a sip of his drink, raising a brow at you once he finished asking the question.

You shook your head. To be honest, the party hadn’t been quite eventful at all. It was the same usual shit you had been used to since you were a freshman in college. “No.. not really. It’s been the same old shit.. you?” you cocked your head to the side. 

Oliver nodded, acknowledging your words loud and clear. He thought the party would have been more lively since it was getting kind of late, but much to his surprise, there hadn’t been much happening at all. He figured at some point he could bounce and have some of his own fun with you. You two had done it plenty of times before and it was much better than sitting around drinking the entire evening. 

He was about to open his mouth to speak when an idea flowed into his brain. He wanted to pass some time before he left the party, and since you were there, he wanted to mess around with you for a little bit. It wasn’t something he wasn’t used to doing. There were many times where he would poke fun at you until you had no choice but to smile at him from how stupid or corny he sounded. It was nice being able to do such a thing with you, so he figured he would give it a try since seeing you laugh made him happy. It would help take his mind off of how dry the party had become since he arrived there just an hour or two prior.

He let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. This made you turn to look at him with curiosity written on your features. He then started glancing around at the different people who were wandering the party house. “So, you see anyone you want to sink your teeth into tonight?” he questioned, turning his head to look at you. “I have my eye on a few.. but I wanted to know if you were interested in any new prey.”

His question took you by complete surprise. Oliver wasn’t really the type to brag about those kinds of things to you. He never really mentioned them before so it was odd, but it kind of bothered you to have him bring it up like that so casually. You weren’t sure what he was trying to get at. Did he want some kind of reaction out of you? It was weird. The other fact that he mentioned he had his eyes on someone else made your chest tug with hurt. It was stupid to feel that way about a guy who you referred to as your “sneaky link” but you couldn’t help but feel that way. 

You had to put on a facade and just tough it out. It was just Oliver. Guys like him could get a little airheaded and not realize what they said. You wanted to play at his game too. You didn’t want Oliver to get away with something like that, so you would test the waters on your next response. “Actually, yeah, I do. He’s around here somewhere,” you crossed your arms over your chest, searching the room for a guy you could point to. 

Oliver was stunned to hear your response to him. He didn’t think you would take his words so seriously, but hearing that there was a possible suitor lurking around at this party had alarms going off inside his head. He began to wonder who it could be. Could it be Isagi? He was well aware that you two had a friendship, but maybe there was something else going on behind the scenes that he didn’t know about. He started narrowing down the options inside his head and wondered who else could be there. He surely regretted asking you such a question, because it was honestly a joke if anything. 

“Wait, what? Who-“

“Oh! There he is! Gotta go!”

He was interrupted the second you walked away into the crowds of people that were formed in the living room. Oliver watched you disappear for a brief moment, but his eyes quickly caught on to where you were standing. You weren’t alone anymore, but the problem was who you were beside. 

His own roommate, Sae Itoshi.

The thing that struck Oliver by surprise was that he never knew you were connected with Sae. As far as he was aware, you two had never come into contact with one another. It made him question a lot of things. Did you know that Sae was his roommate? How long had you two been speaking with each other? Did Sae know he was fucking you for the last few months? He didn’t have a single answer to any of them. The times Oliver brought you over to his apartment he made sure that Sae wouldn’t be there. There was never a time where he would encounter you at his place, so how the fuck did you know him? He knew the kind of person Sae was and he could gladly get any girl he wanted into his bed, but Oliver didn’t want you with him. There was no way he would allow that shit to happen. He adored you too much to let you slip through his grasp like that. 

He sat back for a second, watching your every move intently. He didn’t want to dart over there and make a scene, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling he had inside his chest. 

Usually, Oliver wouldn’t bat an eye at things like this. He doesn’t get angry like this. Not at you, more specifically. He was well aware that there weren’t romantic feelings involved in the relationship you had, it was physical. Yes, it was all physical and there was no emotional connection between you both. He isn’t mad, there is no way he is mad at this or at you over this matter. However, he just couldn’t explain why he felt that green sensation coming over him. He couldn’t hide the scoffs when you laughed at Sae, or the way he would roll his eyes when you smiled a little too long at his roommate. He wanted to know most of all why the hell he wanted to storm up to you and Sae and pull you in for a kiss so he would see it. He wants him to know you belong to Oliver, not him. But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t feel that way. Right? Right.

He finished the rest of his drink, clenching his jaw when he saw you get just a bit too close to his red haired companion. He hated feeling emotions like this. He was so powerless in that situation it made him almost crush the solo cup he held in his right hand, but he had to keep his cool. You weren’t his. 

Oliver pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had too many questions for his own good, and he just wanted to know the basics. It would be nothing too intense, so he began typing a message to you. There were a few times where he would delete the text on his screen, but he eventually sent a few to you. He hoped you would see it, but seeing as you were too distracted in Sae, he wasn’t sure that would even happen. 

Oliver: baby

Oliver: i didn’t know you knew sae

Oliver: baby answer me

He noticed that his drink was empty as well, so he decided to get a refill real quick. If this went south, he knew damn well he was going to need a few to keep himself from losing it that night. 

He turned to the side, grabbing a bottle of liquor to pour into his cup. The stench filled his nose and made his mouth water from the desire to taste it. There were so many options at that party that he wasn’t sure what he should have, but he stuck with something simple instead of going crazy. He had to drive himself home that night and he didn’t want to get too intoxicated. 

Once he turned back, he almost dropped the cup in his hand. Your placement inside the living room was now gone and you were nowhere to be seen. Sae was also missing. The horror soon washed over him and his feet moved on his own to find out where the two of you had gone. He prayed deep down that you were just by yourself somewhere in the house and not in some random bed with Sae. No, there was no way you were about to fuck his roommate. 

He then walked around and might have shoved a few people in the process, but he could care less about what they had to say. He passed by the speaker that had music blasting from it which sort of deafened his ears for a brief moment, but that didn’t stop him from walking around the house to find you. Oliver then halted when he saw Sae standing in another part of the house. He was standing with a group of other people who were unfamiliar to Oliver, but he was relieved to see that you weren’t beside him at the time. Though, that begged the question of where the hell were you right now? He hoped that you were safe, but that was completely uncertain at the moment. All of his attention went to Sae, though. He couldn’t hide that he was kind of pissed off at him for doing such a thing. 

Oliver stormed up to his roommate, pulling him in by the collar of his shirt. Sae was taken completely off guard when he saw that the person grabbing him was his own friend. He was stunned and most of all confused. He could see this anger that swirled around in Oliver’s dual colored eyes that almost scared the living shit out of him at first glance. “Where is she..? Huh? Answer the fucking question..” Oliver’s tone was menacing and the grip on Sae’s shirt was only growing tighter the longer he held it. 

Sae blinked, confused as to what Oliver was talking about. He was blown away by his actions as well. There was no reason why he should be held like that. “Hey! Hey! Oliver, what the hell?! What are you even talking about?” he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to shimmy out of his friend's grip. 

He hated the response he received from his friend. He knew exactly what he was doing with you, but the last thing Oliver wanted to do was start something physical in the middle of the party. It could damage his reputation and he had soccer to worry about too. “Where’s the girl you were talking to, Sae?” his tone softened just a little, but it was somewhat firm at the same time. 

He then quickly gathered what he meant and remembered that he was talking to you just a few minutes prior. Sae nodded his head towards one of the corridors that led upstairs to the top floor. “She went up there to pee..” he replied. “What’s this even about? Are you dating her or something?” 

That’s all Oliver needed to hear.

He then released his friend, sending Sae a few inches backwards. He was still completely appalled by what Oliver had just done, but he decided not to chase after him. He didn’t want to possibly lose a damn limb because he was looking for some girl. It was still very confusing, but he refrained from continuing on with any questions. 

You were sitting inside of the restroom that you really needed to use for the past ten minutes. You did have a bit to drink and alcohol tended to run right through you. It would be quick, but you couldn’t stop staring at the messages Oliver had sent you just a few minutes prior. He seemed quite insistent on getting your attention with them and it honestly puzzled you as to why he was interested in your relationship with Sae. To be honest, you didn’t know a single thing about him besides his name and that he played soccer for the university team. It was no wonder that you did, but why was Oliver so damn curious to know? You never questioned his ties to the random girls he used to talk to. It would irritate you to no end but you never made a big deal out of it because you knew Oliver would make a huge joke out of the whole thing. 

Eventually, you finished your business and went to wash your hands. The soft thump of the music playing down below you filled your ears. The night was barely just beginning. You still had yet to discover where Isagi was hanging out at. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if you found out that he had left the party or something. 

Once you dried off your hands, you went to open the bathroom door. You twisted the knob and pulled it open, but there wasn’t an empty space. Instead, you were faced with a very irritated looking Oliver. He practically scared the living shit out of you when your eyes landed on where he was standing. You didn’t think he would come up here or even seek you out. You knew damn well it was probably Sae who revealed those details to Oliver, but it still made you curious on how the two of them knew one another. Also, why did Oliver care so much about it? He never really paid much attention to those kinds of things before, so why was there the sudden change of heart on his end? Sometimes guys could be so fucking nosy and Oliver was one of those men who had to be in your business. 

You decided to clear your throat to shift the obvious tension that had formed around you both. Oliver had his eyes fixated on you intensely. “Oliver-“ he then cut you off, forcing himself inside of the bathroom and slamming the door with his foot. 

He looked down at you with serious eyes. Your heart began to beat rapidly inside your chest at his sudden actions. You hadn’t seen Oliver behave in such a manner in the entire time you had been having sex with him. He backed you up so you were now pressing against the counter behind you. He had you caged in with his arms that were resting on either side of the sink. “Why did you do that, baby? You like having fun with my roommate?” his voice sent chills up your spine from how hoarse it was. Seeing him act that way had you pressing your thighs together. You never believed there would be a day that you would see Oliver Aiku jealous over his own roommate. The one you didn’t even know about.

You avoided his gaze, but you could feel him burning holes in the side of your head. You knew you had to say something eventually, so you did your best to come up with a response. “Oliver, I never knew about Sae like that..” you looked up briefly, then settled your eyes somewhere else in the room. “But most of all, why do you even care? We aren’t dating, Oliver, you know that.” 

He kissed his teeth at your words. He was so tired of hearing that you weren’t his girlfriend, but that didn’t mean shit to him. He was ready to throw out that idea and become exclusive with you, because the thought of Sae having you all to himself made him pissed. He didn’t want anyone else to have you but him. There was nobody else that could treat you better than Oliver could. “I don’t care.. you’re mine, (Y/N).” he leaned towards your level, so your foreheads were now pressing together. 

Before you could reply, Oliver pressed his lips against yours. The kiss between you two was gentle and it almost made your knees buckle from how sweet it was. His hands found their way towards your waist and then to your hips where he groped at your flesh. You could feel his stubble against your chin as he continued kissing you. Heat began to pool between your thighs, making you all the more needy for Oliver to continue touching you. He knew all of the places to poke and brush against that would make you melt in his hands like butter. He loved that about you. You were so easy to crack and break apart. Sure, he could take his time and be patient with you, but he knew that wasn’t going to be possible tonight. He had this ache inside of his shorts that was begging him to be freed. You didn’t seem like you were in much of a position to wait around either for him, so he figured he would get things going as soon as possible.

Oliver pushed your legs upwards with strong arms. You were now sitting on the sink with both of your thighs around his waist. His large hands squeezed at the fat, allowing a whimper to escape your lips. Instinctively, you opened your legs just a little so Oliver could gain better access to you. He couldn’t hide the smirk that wrote itself on his features when he pushed his hands up your dress and felt that damp spot on your panties. He had done so little, yet you were a soaked mess down there. If he had more time, he would have devoured you and gotten a taste. He always loved seeing your reactions whenever he would go down on you. 

He pressed the pad of his finger against your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked at the feeling of electricity that spread along your belly. Oliver pulled away from the kiss, making eye contact with you. He rubbed small circles on your sensitive bud, earning a few moans. “Needy, huh, baby..?” he chuckled, pecking your lips. “So fucking wet.. ‘gotta have you now.”

With trembling hands, he pulled your dress backwards so he could expose more of your skin. Goosebumps littered your skin when the cooler air brushed against your bare flesh. You watched with heavy lids as he untied his shorts, pulling them down along with his boxers so he could free his cock. You chewed on your bottom lip, anticipation bubbling inside your belly at what was to come. Oliver was on the bigger side. You always had chills whenever he would take it out and fuck you with it. You were surprised you were able to take it the first time from how great the girth was. He was probably the largest you had ever taken. 

He pushed your panties aside, positioning his cock near your dripping hole. The tip dragged along your slick folds, allowing noises to come from both of you. You needed Oliver more than anything right now. Your hands went to rest on his broad shoulders, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. “Oliver.. fuck, don’t tease m-me!” you threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed over your bud. “Need you..” 

Oliver grinned at your need for him. He couldn’t lie. He honestly wanted you more than you wanted him. The two of you hadn’t fucked in a long time, so having a moment like this was bound to bring in lots of fun. He knew you had to be quick, considering that you were doing this in a bathroom at a party, but part of him did have the desire to take it slow. If it were anywhere else he would have his tongue buried between your legs until you were making a mess on his chin. “Tell me how much you need me, princess.” he teased your hole, making you whine. “Tell me – fuck – tell me how bad..”

You disliked how he was making you wait. All you wanted was for him to be inside you already, but that was becoming impossible from his actions. You decided to just give in to what he wanted. It would get things started much faster. “Oliver..! I need you so bad, ah! P-Please.. fuck me!” your nails dug into the fabric of his t-shirt. 

Your voice was like music to his ears. 

Oliver then pushed his cock inside of your dripping cunt. A sharp gasp left your lips from the sensation of his dick filling your pussy up. You could never get used to how thick his cock was. He was splitting you apart with every inch, and you found yourself almost crying from the stretch. Your pussy was sucking him in so perfectly that he was fighting with himself to not completely ravage you right then and there. You were so fucking tight. Nobody else compared to the way you made him feel. It didn’t matter if he went and slept with someone else. They never made him feel this euphoria that you were able to create for him. He never desired to see those people again, but when it came to you it was such a different story. All he could crave was you. Being inside you, having your walls squeeze his cock. He wanted you more than he would ever like to admit, but most of all, Oliver wanted you all to himself.

His palms placed themselves on your hips where he finally fully bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full with him. Oliver wasn’t sure if he should move yet, but when you began to grind on his cock he knew that you were more than ready for him to fuck you. 

He slowly began to thrust forward into you. Your moans were much softer and delicate this time, but he knew they would begin to grow louder once he started to move more. He gripped the plush of your hips tightly as his pace began to pick up just a little. Fuck, you were so perfect like this before him. Your sweet pussy was taking his cock in so nicely. He was already losing control of himself. Oliver never realized how badly he missed you until that moment. You were on his mind so much and the thought of losing you struck fear into him. He didn’t want anyone else to think they had a chance with you. 

You were lost in complete bliss at his actions. He was going at a decent pace, but you were already feeling like you were on the moon from what he was doing. The scent of his cologne, his grip on your body, the way his cock split you apart. All of it was so perfect. “O-Oliver! Shit.. it’s so good!” you squeezed your eyes shut, holding on to his shoulders for support. He had you completely wrapped around his finger. 

Hearing your pretty voice made his dick twitch inside of you. He loved whenever you said his name like that. All whiny and needy like he was the only one you needed at the end of the day. There was nothing better to Oliver than hearing you cry out for him. He couldn’t help but rut his hips a bit harder this time, giving him a slightly better angle to those nice spots. He wanted to make you feel good. Your pleasure always came before his. “Yeah? You like this, princess? Like when I fuck your p-pretty cunt with my fat cock?” he grabbed your face with his hand, pressing your cheeks together. 

You nodded vigorously at his question. Oliver thought you looked so fucking nasty like that. Shaking your head like you were a bitch in heat. It was erotic. He thought it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 

His hand retracted from your face and went to circle around your throat. He held it there firmly, but not hard enough to the point where you were losing oxygen from his grip. Oliver just couldn’t keep his eyes away from you and your body. You were beautiful, truly. He hadn’t ever seen someone with such enthralling beauty before. He just couldn’t help but feel mesmerized by your features. There was so much to like about you. He couldn’t pick just one thing to focus on. He knew a girl like you could be snatched up by someone else within a heartbeat. There were probably loads of people waiting for you to give them the time of day, and he was fully aware of that. He saw the way people turned their heads whenever you walked into a room. Oliver was one of those many faces that stared at you with admiration any time you strutted by. He loved that people also thought you were pretty, but it also brought jealousy. You were too good for some of those shitty guys he encountered on campus. The last thing he would want is someone breaking your pretty heart into tiny pieces. 

That’s why seeing you with someone like Sae angered him. 

Oliver knew he shouldn’t have acted the way he did towards his friend, especially over you, but there was just something about having you in someone else’s arms that pissed him off. Someone seeing you naked and fucking you drove him mad. He was the only one who should have access to you like that. The idea that someone else could possibly have that chance lit a fire underneath Oliver’s ass. He didn’t want that, not one bit.

He didn’t realize it, but he had begun fucking you at quite a rough pace. He was just too pissed off about what happened with Sae earlier that he was taking it out on your cunt. You didn’t seem to mind that much though. You were a moaning mess and your hold on him was tight. You were practically clinging onto him like your life depended on it. Oliver shifted his angle, so he could feel more of your cunt around him. As he thrusted, the items on the sink moved with him and a few things almost fell over. However, he didn’t give two shits. 

The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Several grunts had rumbled in Oliver’s throat while he thrusted into you. He knew you were getting close by the feeling of your walls slowly tightening around his dick. He had this need for reassurance. He had to know and hear from you that you weren’t going to go off with somebody else. “Fuck.. tell me you’re mine, baby.” he looked down at you with a serious stare that made you shiver. 

You whimpered when his hand around your throat began to squeeze. He was making you look at him while his cock dragged along your walls. This kind of energy was turning you on so much. You could almost cum on the spot from just his voice. “I-I’m yours, Oliver!” you whined. “I promise..!”

Those words made him feel so much better. He couldn’t hide the smile that had appeared on his features. Oliver gritted his teeth from how fucking great you felt around him. You could feel the knot inside your belly tightening with each rut of his hips. All you could crave was that climax. Your nails dug into his shoulder, leaving marks on his skin even though he still had his shirt on. 

With one final cry of pleasure, you finally reached your orgasm. Sparks of euphoria danced along your skin from the intensity, and your legs began to shake. Oliver gasped sharply when your walls clamped tightly around his cock. He didn’t expect it to happen, but he actually came himself. He filled your cunt with his cum, covering your velvet walls with white thick seed. The warmth inside your abdomen made you tremble a bit, but you were too lost in your thoughts to even think about what just happened. Oliver had come inside you before, so you could care less. Those words must have pushed him over the edge, because he didn’t expect for his high to hit him that hard.

Oliver snaked his arms around your waist. The two of you were both quite messy and the restroom you were in was humid. He brushed his lips against your ear, making you feel goosebumps. “I mean it.. you’re my girl, baby.“ he rubbed small circles on your back, soothing you. 

You tucked your head underneath his chin, letting your eyes fall shut. “I don’t mind that..” you whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Really? I mean-“

BANG BANG!

“Hey! Who’s in there?! Some of us have to piss!”

You and Oliver looked at one another, then started giggling when you heard the person on the other side. He quickly kissed your forehead, smiling down at you. “Come home with me tonight.. I can’t stay away from you anymore.” he said, cupping your cheek.

You grinned. “I want nothing more than that.”

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 24. I like- no- love you.

Warnings: not proof read very well

note: WRITTEN PART AGAINNN (shits happening y'all) also i think it's longer than the last written part(?) not too sure tho

“Ready to go?” You turned to the boy in front of you. Everyone else had already left, leaving you and Yuta to get home on your own.

“Hm? Oh, yeah I’m ready to go.” The boy responds, looking back out towards the lake again.

You take the spot beside him, resting your arms against the railing and leaning your weight him. He didn’t respond, only letting out a small grunt when your bodies came in contact.

“What’s got you looking so serious?” Your eyes never leave the water.

“… nothing.” He sighed.

“Oh, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Yuta offered a small smile in hopes of getting you to drop the topic. You didn’t.

“Yeah like I believe that.” You playfully push the boy, tugging him back from the railing. “Come on! Let’s go home, you can tell me on the way.”

The two of you began walking around the lake, Yuta had suggested you take the long way around, to spend more time together, he told you.

It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves at park stationed near the entrance, where you eagerly dragged Yuta towards. You sat on the swings for a while, seeing how high you could go before launching yourself off and landing on the gravel.

“I win.” You give Yuta a cheeky grin as you stood a few inches ahead of him.

The boy gave you a playful pout, rolling his eyes as he went back to the swing set. He began swinging slowly, seemingly trying to find the right words to say.

“Yuta?” You chime. “What’s wrong?”

"It's nothing, just a little tired." He sighed.

"Let's go then." You took a hold of his hand and dragged him away towards your house. "You can tell me whatever you wanted to tell me on our way back."

Thus leading to Yuta's first failed attempt to confess of the night.

The two of you ended up somewhere in town, strolling through the dimly lit streets as you passed stores and booths as you went.

"Come on! We're almost home." You pick up your pace as you dash under the street lights with Yuta jogging behind you.

"Slow down a bit." The dark haired boy calls out and his hand slips through your grip.

When you didn't slow down, Yuta let out a soft chuckle and ran after you, quickly catching up to you. He grabbed you hand and planted his feet, forcing you to an abrupt stop.

Only, the momentum you had was enough to throw off of your feet.

"Ack-" You fell backwards, grabbing for whatever you could to break your fall. And you managed to grab something. Or someone. You latched onto Yuta's arm and pulled him down with you.

"Why'd you drag me down??" Yuta pushed himself up with a smile.

"You're the one who sabotaged me in the first place!" You pull yourself up and wipe the dust off of your clothes.

"Nope. That was all you." He chuckled.

"Whatever." You roll your eyes and keep walking again.

"... really like..." You heard faint mumbling coming from behind you. Yuta was looking away with a blush on his face.

You stop walking, turning around to face him fully. "Did you say something?"

"Nope. Nothing at all." The boy started walking faster, brushing past you.

"Suit yourself." You shrug as you jog to catch up to him.

Meanwhile, Yuta is internally cursing himself out for chickening out once again. His second failure of the night.

"You're good to shower now." You step into your room, refreshed and ready for bed.

"Okay." He grabbed his spare clothes from your closet and walked down that hall.

You were left alone with your thoughts as you heard the water running from the bathroom. It didn't take a genius to notice Yuta had been acting strange. But what was going on in his mind that he couldn't ask you for help?

As your thoughts continued to stir, you were completely oblivious to the fact that the water had stopped running and in stepped Yuta soaking hair and a towel around his neck. He immediately hopped into bed beside you, effectively pulling out your thoughts.

"Now what has you looking so serious." He smiled.

"We're best friends right?" You turn to look at him.

The boy looks at you with a confused look, like you had just said something ridiculous. "Of course we are, why?"

"You just seem so out of it today, like something's bothering you. And I just thought you'd tell me if anything was ever bothering you." You mumble.

Yuta gives you a soft look, he hadn't realized how different he was acting, or how much it bothered you. He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"No, nothing is bothering me. I just..." He trailed off.

"Just what?" Your curiosity peaked.

"Nah, it's nothing. Don't worry about, I promise you, I'm just tired." The boy offered you a weak smile before pushing himself up and off the bed. "I'm going to dry my hair, you go to bed first, alright?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, shifting your body to lay down and pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "Fine. Goodnight."

As Yuta walked out, you were once again left with your thoughts. So many questions were swirling about in your mind. What was he trying to say earlier? Why was he giving you such mixed signals? Does he secretly hate you? And he was planning on breaking off your friendship, but felt guilty about it because you guys had known each other for so long???

All your thoughts came to a halt as you heard the door open again. You stilled yourself as you felt Yuta's weight settle beside you. He let out a heavy sigh as he made sure to pull the blanket back up to cover you fully.

He looked over your shoulder to your face, checking for any signs of consciousness. When he saw none, he leaned closer, and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"I like- no- love you." He pulled away. "I'm such an idiot."

The boy settled under the blankets and fell asleep, completely unaware that you had heard the entire thing.

Third time's a charm... kind of.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— you forced yuta to sit in the baby swing as you pushed him (he got stuck)

— yuta is a heavy ass sleeper

taglist: closed!

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @meguemii @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny

@frumira @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082 @koiir @g0rep1ty @k4romis @beaniedoodz @seventhcinema @macimcnaron @pumpkin6969 @wowowwin @neigee @someonethatisnobody @vndl-1 @yoyo-yui

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[quitealotofsodapop]

Even after e erhthing settles down in the pilot and they're able to finally, properly, have a chat... Peaches is still nervous around DBK. It's hard for him to go from jsut being Pigsy's nerdy eldest son to Wun Wukong and he's still skittish from being chased across the entire city and over the seas by a scary demon bull. He's also not quite convinced DBK won't hurt him... it takes a lot of gentle prodding for DBK to get his fur to stop puffin up in fear every time he comes near. He is very much regretting how he handled his resurrection and seeing Sun Wukong so soon after his release.

Yeah, once both families make it to FFM and see the signs pointing to Peaches *being* Sun Wukong with memory loss, things get really awkward. Not just between the Noodle family, but with the addition of the Demon Bull clan, who vow not to fight Peaches until he regains his memories of being Sun Wukong.

The Bull fam also point out that Peaches, for all his powers and Staff; doesn't remember any of his training from Subodhi or his brethern. All three of them make up the very few people who knew Sun Wukong enough to help Peaches regain his experience.

Of course initial training doesn't go as planned; "Bad Weather" occurs not due to an attempt at taking over the city, but through a training session gone awry. It ultimately leads to the Monkey Bros deciding to split Sun Wukong's powers between them; two clumsy demi-god monkeys are easier to manage than one *super powerful* one.

But again, as you said; trust doesn't come easy. And these monkeys are puffing up like scared cats the next couple of times they see DBK or his family.

DBK is trying his best not to scare the little guys. He oft forgets that Peaches isn't exactly his xiandi anymore, tho he acts a lot like Wukong did when he was a younger monkey. The major difference being the absence of his responsibilities as King and the influence of the Brotherhood. And of course the addition of two fathers, a fishy uncle, and a loyal little brother and friend. DBK and PIF may clash with MK and Mei at times, but they admit that they are good influences on their reclusive son.

And of course there's Pigsy and Tang to contend with. The pair, as shocked as they were to discover Peaches' origins, aren't eager to throw him into the light as a hero.

Pigsy: "Please, you have to understand. For the last 18 years he hasn't been some demi god or whatever, he's been my son. And I can't stand the thought of anything happening to him." DBK, touched: "I... I understand your pain. Sun Wukong helped save the life of my own child before my imprisonment. You have my word as both a father and a king, I will not ever harm your son." Pigsy: "You better not. Cus' if you do, I ain't sure which of us will kill you first." (*DBK looks over to see Tang, Mei, Sandy, Mo, and MK glaring at him with distrust in their eyes*) DBK: "I wouldn't have it any other way."

It's the confirmation from Dadsy that DBK is chill that ultimately helps warm Peaches to him and to training with the Demon Bull fam.

[acidxinxwonderland]

Heyoo, Im needy for some angst, so can I get "how the glamrocks would react to accidentally hurting them"? Like for example roxy accidentally scratching them, or Monty losing control with his anger?? You don't have too tho!!! Thank you :)

This is a VERY late response to this ask, I apologize! This sounds like a very fun, yet also sad idea. Let's start, shall we? Starting least angsty to most.

TW: Choking, slight blood, shoving, head getting bonked, just overall angsty for the last two.

Glamrock Chica

During night watch you hear rummaging in the kitchen, steeling your nerves and going to check, Chica is there going through the trash.

She bawks and throws a can straight at your head

"Oh my stars?! Are you alright?"

She feels incredibly guilty, keeping you company through the shift

She constantly checks the growing bump on your forehead

The next night, you find a neatly packaged cupcake. The perfect apology

Glamrock Freddy

Freddy is having a slight malfunction in his arm. You are the one to repair him.

"Please be cautious. I feel... Strange."

You weren't cautious. You failed to reconnect a wire.

With a roar you've never heard before, the wind is knocked out of your lungs from a great force. It wasn't until you are on the ground that you realized he used his other arm to shove you away.

There is a stunned silence that falls between you too. He can't believe he did such a thing, he felt as if he wasn't in control. He hates being out of control.

"Superstar, I am so sorry." Remorse is heavy in his tone, reaching out to you with the hand that just pushed you away.

You're bewildered, out of all the animatronics, Freddy has never laid a hand on you in such an aggressive way, you shrink from his touch.

Watching you shrink away, his hand closes, simulating a sigh as he his head falls. "I don't know what came over me. I..." He trails off.

Your eyes soften, getting up from your spot on the ground. "It's alright bud, you told me to be cautious."

As you continue working on him you have to constantly reassure him that you didn't see him any differently. Although for the next few weeks whenever he brought his hand up near you, you can't stop yourself from flinching away.

He can't bear seeing you afraid of him. Although it takes you weeks to get over it, it takes him months upon months.

Roxanne Wolf

On patrol once again, you hear crying off in the distance while roaming down the large, dark corridors of the Pizzaplex. The closer you get, the easier it was to make out. It was Roxy...

You urge on until you reach the staff's bathroom, entering to see the animatronic wolf near a mirror, covering her eyes as she let out heart wrenching sounds.

"Roxy...?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her hands are quick to fall from her face, staring at you through the mirror with glowing eyes. "What are you doing here?! Get out."

There is nothing but concern on your face as you walk towards her with slow steps, as if trying to sooth a cornered animal.

Getting in her space was your worst mistake. "I said get out!" She pivots towards you, swinging her arm at and you thought it was game over.

Your eyes screwed tight, you didn't even realize. As you slowly open them, relieved to know you are alive, you feel warmth trickle down your cheek, dripping down onto your uniform.

You both now stare at each other in complete disbelief. Roxy takes a step forward, labored breath leaving her voice box, something you've never heard before.

"I..." Her voice falters, reaching up to collect some of the blood on her finger. "I didn't mean to."

She hurt her number one, it didn't matter what she was upset about before. How could she do this to you of all people?

You grab her large hand, tears welling up in your eyes as you try to push past your own feelings. "I know you didn't Roxy."

You stayed in the bathroom all night, sitting on the sinks counter while she sunk down onto her knees in front of you. You stroked her hair as she cried, her head resting on your lap. You barely understand what she says through her sobs besides murmured apologies.

Montgomery Gator

You were tasked to check on Monty during one of his many melt downs

He was in a rage due to an argument with Freddy, yelling and punching the wall

You are petrified as you go into his green room

He immediately senses your arrival, halting for a moment to stare at you with eyes filled to the brim with unbridled rage. There was simulated huffs coming from him, as if he was ready to attack any moment.

"What are you doing here brat?"

Monty sees you as a close friend, one of the only people he trusted in the Pizzaplex. He didn't want you to see him like this.

"I'm here to help."

"Help?" His fists clench at his side. "Who said I wanted any help?"

"Well... Management sent me in but I also-"

Your words are cut off from a loud growl of distress. He was hurt, hurt by the fact that you didn't come here on your own terms and angry at management to send you in when he knew he was out of control.

He punches a hole in the wall, he can feel his fingers malfunctioning. It was as painful as it could be for something made of metal. "God damn it!"

He can't hurt you, he can't hurt you, he can't. He would never forgive himself, he won't do it.

It was as if he blacks out, and once he comes to, his hand is around your neck and you're up against the wall.

You're struggling to breath, suspended in the air as you weakly claw at his forearm.

He sees that pleading look in your eyes, and never has he been more terrified.

He lets go of you, you fall to the ground on your knees, gasping out.

Monty sees those marks on your neck, he sees the damage he has done. He can't believe he would ever do such a thing, not to you. You. He...

He hates himself for it.

"Leave."

You don't think twice, managing to get up on your feet and stumbling out of the green room as you massage the forming bruise on your skin.

He sits there in the green room, quiet as quiet can be as he thinks about what he has done. He looks down at the hand, remembering feeling your pulse against his finger tips.

He has to stay away from you now. He must. The only one he could trust. Yet he lost yours, and there was no coming back from it.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

omg yes please write something for bodhi, i’m trying to find something because he just sounds such a nice person and hope he appears more in the next books, i also love xaden but i think he belongs with violet so i don’t wanna interfere there ahaha

If u want ideias idk maybe like a new student who was also obligated to go to the riders quadrant and she’s a sunshine and so he got a soft spot for her even tho they shouldn’t fall in love because that quadrant is ruthless u know? ahaha

At the first glance

Bodhi knew it was done and dusted the moment he caught a glimpse of your hair twirling across your face as you tried to keep your posture steady while on the parapet. For some reason the moment his eyes caught a glimpse of you that was the only thing he could look at. The only thing he could focus on. And something about that exact moment made his heart clench.

He had watched so many cadets cross that path. He was done flinching. Done caring that much. Bodhi too had mastered that cold expression Xaden wore but something about you, had made him lose all of that cool demeanor. A stone chipped beneath your feet making your right leg dip and Bodhi took a step forward without even thinking. "What the fuck are you doing?", Xaden hissed beneath his breath. But Bodhi didn't as much as stopped to listen, stepping closer to the very end of the parapet, to get a better look. "Bodhi", Xaden called out once more.

Your body swayed as your eyes darted down. Fatal mistake Bodhi thought to himself. A scream left your lips as you tried to find your footing, panic making you even more clumsy. "Eyes up here", Bodhi shouted through the wind. He could hear Xaden walking closer to him but he wasn't gonna budge. "Hey, eyes up here!", he shouted at the top of his lungs. And that's all it took for your frightened gaze to dart up.

From your frail body, Bodhi could tell that you had never even planned to be here. Pale skin was yet another indication that you spent little time outside. So there was no way you had magically woken up and chosen this fate for yourself. "You got this, you're almost there", he shouted as you rose back up to your feet. "We don't do this, Bo", Xaden pulled at Bodhi's arm but the male yanked it free instantly, "You interfere and I will throw you over the edge". Something gleamed in Xaden's eyes. For a second Bodhi was convinced that he was going to be the one airborn but not on his dragon this time. However, all that Xaden did was back away as he scowled at the crowd that had formed, making the noisy group break apart.

Bodhi's eyes were back on you as you neared the very end. Only now did he catch a glimpse of your damp cheeks. The bleeding lip no doubt from you biting it hard as you tried to concentrate. He knew the rules, he couldn't interfere. Couldn't help. No upper hand was allowed. Yet the closer you got the more Bodhi's hands itched to reach forward. You gasped as the solid ground neared. Nearly crashed into the rider waiting for you on the other side.

Bodhi's arm instantly wrapped around your lower back as he lifted you off the end of the stone ledge and into the solid balcony. Your knees buckled but Bodhi held onto you firmly. His other hand brushed over your damp cheeks, "Pull yourself together till they mark your name, then I'll find you a safe corner", he whispered, softly, blocking you from the rest of the people there. All you managed to do was nod as you pretended to shove him away, trying to take self-assured steps.

Bodhi met Xaden's eyes across the room. The look was displeased, to say the least. But they were family. They understood each other. So Bodhi didn't need to plead. Didn't need to pull any strings, at least not for now, to keep you safe. "Name", Xaden asked. You braced yourself against the table. The wing leader knew that hazy look all too well. "Name cadet?", he repeated. You blinked a couple of times, "Y/n Y/l/n", it was barely a whisper.

A loud cry echoed from behind you. Some gaps filled the room as the cadets rushed towards the windows. Someone no doubt had fallen and death strangely entertained people up here. Xaden looked at Bodhi, with a quick nod, pushing past you. And then you felt hands on you. You tried to move away, push yourself back but it was for nothing. "No, please", you breathed out but a hand quickly clasped over your face. Then the darkness of the side corridor fell upon you. "You're safe, I won't hurt you", Bodhi muttered, looking over his shoulder.

You eyed the man in front of you. You heard stories about the riders. About the brutality of it all. Bodhi turned back to you, "I'm Bodhi, you did good out there". You swallowed thickly, "I nearly fell...", you muttered. "But you didn't, you just can't show anyone your weak spots", his hands held onto your forearms, "The moment someone sniffs out your weak spot you're dead", Bodhi himself frowns at the coldness in his tone. Your eyes gloss over with nee tears that rip at Bodhi's heart.

"I never wanted to...", you brace yourself against the wall, looking so small that Bodhi had to fight an urge to wrap you up in his arms and snarl at anyone who looks at you the wrong way but he knows that wouldn't get you far. "I'll help you get through this", he said firmly. You shook your head, "I have nothing to give you", you wiped the tears away quickly. Bodhi simply smiled at you, "Let's call it a partnership at first glance", he extended his palm to you. You looked at him with confusion in your eyes for a moment before you shook his waiting palm, "Welcome to the rider's quadrant, sunshine".

[s-4pphics]

i fucking love ur ballerina reader series dude ur like my new favorite writer rn ughhhh. can we pls get another part with a strap???

this is so sweet baby thank u!! and of course y’all can :3 

wc;cw: 1.06k uh oh, MDNI, reader being mean n nasty n a painslut we been knew that tho, her panties make a return slayyyy, some dirty talk, strap sucking, riding, choking, spanking, more breeding n daddy kink omg, spit🤭, ellie being obsessed??, slight dumbification again hehe, uh i think that’s it idk

you were having a very, very terrible day. 

your dance director had been grilling you about the small errors you made in your port de bras because he hates you(if you want to be the lead, act like it! you look sloppy!), and to put it frankly, you were seething. 

you ended up excusing yourself into the bathroom to calm yourself down so you could finish rehearsals in peace: you were literally about to kill somebody. you checked your phone as you patted the sweat off your forehead and paced, and—much to your delighted surprise—ellie sent you a little kiss emoji. your mood lightened slightly, she is so cute!

she promised that she would pick you up after rehearsals today so you could hang out at her apartment(u can spend the night if u wanna :p, she’d texted right after her first invite, not knowing your overnight bag was packed and waiting by your dorm door!), and you couldn’t wait to suck her dic—

the door pushed open and you jumped before the familiar voice of your roommate blurted out he's lookin' for you, baby, c'mon out! you rolled your eyes as you released a heavy sigh, discarding the damp cloth in the garbage, adjusting your black leotard and heading back into the dance studio to your instructor’s relentless berating. 

you were fucking pissed and sore as you waited on the curbside of the parking lot next to your dorm building. your instructor did not leave you the fuck alone for the remainder of your class. 

he’d been breathing down your neck the entire two hours, and you’d been this close to ripping the barre off the wall and bashing his head in with it. 

you had some time to run upstairs to you and your roommates shared space after rehearsals to take your ice bath and roll your leg and feet muscles out before ellie came to get you. 

a few minutes passed, and you heard the familiar stutter of ellie’s dented, rusted car pull up to you. she excitedly rolled her windows down with a bright squeal of hiii, baby! before she noticed the blank face on your cute ass face, watching you throw your bag on the floor of her car while you sat in the passenger's seat. 

“hey,” you said simply. 

“hi.. what happened?” she asked, brows pulled down in concern. 

“rehearsals sucked today, don’t wanna talk about it, to be honest.” 

“okay… you ready to go?” 

you only nodded as you turned the radio on, tears glossing your eyes. ellie said nothing, but she grabbed your hand in your lap and gave it a gentle squeeze as she pulled out of the parking lot. 

ellie held your hand in hers as she led you into her complex and onto the elevator, hitting the number ‘4’ as the doors shut. you leaned back against the wall and thudded your head against it with your eyes shut. you were so tired. 

“are you hungry? we can order whatever you want,” she asked softly as she leaned against the wall with you, pressing soft kisses into your clothed shoulder. 

you only nodded at her as she nuzzled you before a loud ding! rang through the enclosed space, silver doors opening to show the hallway. 

she grabbed your hand again and led you out the elevator, walking two doors down and unlocking her home. 

she pulled you in before she softly closed and locked the door behind you. 

she nodded towards her plush-looking couch with a small smile, “sit down and tell me what you wanna eat.” 

“ellie.” 

“mhm?” 

“where’s your dick?” 

and she damn near choked and died. whatthefuckwhatthefuck—

“where’s my… where’s my dick?” she replied, slurring slightly. 

“yeah.” 

ellie had your purple, sheer panties stuffed in her mouth as you rode the fuck out of her. 

the minute she guided you to her room and revealed her cleaned, navy blue strap shoved into her bottom drawer, you pounced on her. you’d pushed her onto the bed, tore her clothes off, and shoved your face between her legs without a word and she let you. you made her cum in your mouth with her shaky legs over your shoulders and your fingers inside her and she was losing her mind. after she nutted in your mouth, you silently reached for the dick and passed it to her, wordlessly ushering for her to put it on as you undressed yourself. 

she’d strapped it over her pussy, shuddering slightly whenever it brushed over her clit, before you pushed her down onto the bed, got on your knees, and sucked it into your mouth and ellie knew she was going to die she would die—

she doesn't even remember how the two of you got here, her bed was banging on the wall as you bounced on her, your hands balancing yourself on her knees, your propped up and your feet digging into her bed with your head thrown back. 

“y‘dick feels so fuckin’ good, daddy, fuck!” 

she couldn’t even say anything back to you, and it wasn’t because of your wet underwear in her mouth, but because she forgot how to fucking speak! if she couldn’t remember the alphabet how was she going to talk you through your nut! her eyes were rolled back and her hands were on your hips as her thumbnail dug into your little flower tat that she gave you and she was gonna cum so hard. she’d already came once in your mouth and another time when you first sat on her cock, but she felt this one building in her throat, all the way down to her toes oh shit oh shit—

you tore the panties out of her mouth before you moved to sit on your knees, grabbing her throat with both your hands, squeezing hard, forcing her to hold your intense gaze. 

“gonna cum inside your pussy, daddy? yeah? gonna make a mess in me?” 

she couldn’t speak due to how loud she was, only whining out weak ‘uh huh uh huhs’ as you grinded the strap onto her clit and she couldn’t sit still, so she slapped your ass hard and nodded fast because she was right there and it felt so good—

she barely noticed that her tongue had been sticking out dumbly before she felt you harshly grab her cheeks with your hand and spat a glob right on her tongue, small specks landing on her cheeks and she was cumming she was cumming!—

“fuuuck! fuckfuckfuck—uuggh!”

“yeahyeah, give it t’me, gimmegimmegimme!—“ 

ellie swore she was going to fucking faint. she hasn’t come this hard in her life since… ever! she mindlessly reached up to grab your tits as a grounding, but she accidentally ended up digging her nails into your nipples hard and you came so fast from that alone—

…you felt so much better afterwards!

[xoxoavenger]

I Only Need Ten

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, BestFriend!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: when Eddie decided to go no contact with Y/N after a drunk night, his worst nightmares come to life at a party (based on scene from Daisy Jones and the Six)

word count: 2896

warnings: drug use (cocaine), over dose, terrible boyfriend (the oc not eddie), a small mention of murder and killing (deserved tho), near death experience

masterlist

"I think you're delusional." Steve says as him and Y/N walked up to the party, Robin practically running ahead to get there quicker. It was her first time at a party that was barred from high schoolers, meaning it would probably have hard drugs. Parties weren't usually her scene, but she was ready tonight. Y/N had been hyping it up for ages, begging Robin for years to go - since the younger got out of high school.

"Do you ever let anything go?" Y/N asked, already slurring her words. Steve rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bottle from her hands, one of his own wrapping around her arm when she stumbled a bit. "God, I mean, I think if Eddie liked me he would have said something." Of course they were arguing about Y/N's new boyfriend, her rebound from Eddie after they drunkenly made out and passed out with each other's hands halfway down their pants. Eddie made it very clear he wasn't interested after he slipped out before she woke up and avoided her like the plague, not answering any of her calls and leaving her to talk to Wayne awkwardly.

"Maybe he's afraid." Steve said, wincing as he took a long swig of the hard liquor she had procured; he already felt the hangover. Unfortunately the massive amounts of partying he had done in high school did not help as he got older. Just smelling alcohol aged him ten years.

"Please," Y/N snorted, walking through the people that were in the lawn, music blaring even outside. On the patio table someone was cutting cocaine, and before Steve could stop her she was breathing it in and throwing her head back in a laugh.

"Alright," Steve grabbed her and pulled her into the house, hoping she would only do one line. When Y/N was heart broken, she tended to go a little overboard. Her boyfriend wasn't very good at stopping her, and Steve didn't trust him.

"Steve, come on! Don't act like you're such aaaa," She trailed off, not knowing what to say. "I don't have a good comeback." She laughed loudly, and Steve took another swig of the drink. This was gonna be a long night.

~

"You are such an idiot." Dustin magically appeared at Eddie's side, holding a beer in hand like he did this every night. The two were leaning against a counter in the kitchen, where you could see everyone going in and out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Eddie yanked the beer away, spilling half of it as Dustin protested, "C'mon, man! I'm seventeen now!"

"And what if Steve sees you?" Eddie knew it was a trump card, since last month Steve had been forced to pick up the kids from a party after it was busted and Will threw up in the roses out front. He hadn't said anything that night, picking them up and taking them to his house, calling Mike's mom to tell her they were all safe and had crashed at his place after meeting up with Eddie. He held El's hair back when she threw up, multiple times, and got them orange juice in the morning while Dustin lived in the bathroom. And then lectured them for an hour and told them that while he would always pick them up when they needed, he was going to tell their parents and let them deal with that next time.

"Steve's gonna be here?" Dustin looked around, but he didn't see Steve. Eddie wasn't even sure how Dustin got into this party; he has seen high schoolers get kicked out at least four times in the last fifteen minutes of him standing in the kitchen and looking for Y/N.

"Yeah, I think he's coming with Robin and Y/N." Eddie tried not to seem weird when he said her name, but Dustin was a perceptive little shit.

"We all know you two have a thing going on." While they all knew that Y/N and Eddie did in fact have some tension, the teenagers were not aware of exactly what had transpired a couple weeks prior.

"You don't know shit." Eddie chugged Dustin's beer, grabbing his arm as he tried to leave before he could go get a new one.

"I know plenty of shit." Dustin rolled his eyes, shrugging Eddie off and walking away, definitely going to grab another beer. Seems Steve's threats didn't work very well.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" Eddie shouted, leaning against the counter and drinking out of his own cup filled with something a little bit harder.

He wanted to get wasted.

~

"Where's Blake?" Y/N slurred as she looked around. Her eye caught more coke on a corner counter, and when she lit up Steve felt himself tense.

"Have a cig," Steve pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, hoping it would distract Y/N enough that she would temporarily forget about the cocaine that she definitely did not need. He was just about to light it for her when he saw Dustin walk by with a beer in his hand.

That little punk.

"Dustin!" Steve yelled, mind filling with rage at the fact that Dustin had not learned at all from him. "Hey, come here, you little shit!" Steve was off, looking over heads to track Dustin as he snaked through the crowd.

Y/N immediately forgot about the unlit cigarette as soon as Steve was gone.

"Babe!" Blake threw an arm around Y/N as she came up from snorting a line, not even giving her time to breathe before putting a cold hand to her face and kissing her breathless.

Eddie watched the whole thing, watched as Blake threw back his drink and took a hit in one breath, watched the couple laugh and kiss messily. He couldn't take it, seeing her with him. He knew he had fucked up, that knowing her rejection would have been better than this.

He walked away, going to help Steve corral the other little shits that had snuck into the party before they got into serious trouble.

~

Y/N wasn't sure what she was laughing at. All she really knew was Blake had just pushed her off the bed they were jumping on, but her head was fuzzy and her body was heavy, so maybe he was doing her a favor. She liked laying on the floor, breathing deeply.

"Do you ever stop laughing!" Blake yelled at her, making her head spin even more. Suddenly, she felt less of the fun fuzzy feeling and more unclear and in the dark. What was going on?

She could barely breathe, she didn't feel in control of her own body. She could feel her brain shutting down as she closed her eyes. The panic set in when she was unable to open them more than slits, but it was quickly replaced by nothingness.

Across the party, El was screaming.

She was yelling incoherently at Eddie, who felt way too sober for everything. Max and Will and Mike were at her sides, trying to get her to calm down, but she was hitting the older man, grabbing his jacket and pointing up the stairs. He almost put her over his shoulder to walk out, thinking she was clearly wasted, when he heard something he knew was actually English.

"It's Y/N!" That got Eddie moving, running to the last bedroom he had seen Y/N go into. He had kept an eye on her, had watched her get progressively more unhinged and high, but he thought Blake had it. He is her boyfriend after all, and the last thing Eddie wanted to do was intrude.

How could he have been so stupid?

Steve marched behind him, the kids bee-lining to follow. Once Eddie got to the door and found it locked, he pounded on it so hard it rattled the walls.

"Blake? You motherfucker, you better get out of there before I break this goddamn door down!" Eddie's voice was deep and loud, making the kids shiver. They had never heard him sound like this. Blake unlocked the door to stick his head out.

"Go the fuck away, freak." Blake said, but he seemed out of breath and his voice was too high.

"Where's Y/N?" Eddie demanded, trying to push through the door.

"She's fine. Everything's fine. Just go." He rushed out, still trying to shut the door on Eddie. "Go, please." He begged, setting off warning bells all throughout Eddie's head.

"Open the door." Eddie seethed, tilting his head in anger.

"No," Blake started, shaking his head and pushing.

"Open the fucking door." Eddie pounded once more against the half open door, red hot rage engulfing him as he could think of nothing else but Y/N. The way Blake had said that she was fine so quickly, wanting him to leave, it didn't sit right with Eddie.

"She's not your's, man! You had a chance," Before he could finish his sentence Steve and Lucas were helping Eddie open the door; it was overkill, and Blake lost the fight quickly.

"Y/N?" He called looking around. It didn't take long to find her on the ground, unmoving. She looked uncomfortable laying there, not right.

Eddie's heart dropped so far it cracked the carpet.

"Oh my fuck," He ran to her, hands cupping her face. "Y/N? Y/N." He repeated her name over and over again as he lightly slapped her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she didn't he pressed his head to her chest, but he felt no movement.

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered as Eddie let out a quiet sob, the younger man stepping back slightly as he took in the scene.

"Steve!" Eddie called, not daring to look away from Y/N. "She's not breathing, man!" He could barely get the words out, his throat constricting in time with his wildly beating heart.

"No, no," Max's hands went to her mouth, feeling Lucas behind her. She turned into him and he cradled her head to his shoulder, making sure she wouldn't see the scene in front of them.

"Y/N? All right, all right, all right." He was convincing himself that she was fine, that any second now she was gonna gasp for air and laugh and he would kiss her senseless. He had been stupid to not talk to her, to not hear her out. Now, as he maneuvered her into his arms, he felt sick at the thought that he had lost time with her. "It's okay, I'm here, Y/N." He pulled her around and made sure her head was tilted up, not realizing how much he was shaking. He tried to calm himself by rocking back and forth.

"Dustin, go find a phone, call the cops, don't give any names. If we can't get her awake, they'll help." Steve ordered, taking charge of everyone before they could continue freaking out. "Will, go with him. El and Mike, go find Nancy. Tell her Y/N overdosed, that she's nonresponsive. The rest of you, tell Nancy to give you her keys and go to her car. Keep your heads down, we don't have time to bail any of you out of jail." The kids moved quickly, leaving him, Blake, Y/N and Eddie in the room.

"Y/N? Y/N." He was still repeating her name, smacking her lightly with the arm wrapped around her head, knowing he would do anything to see her chest move again, hear her heart beat.

"It's gonna be okay," Steve said, but Eddie wasn't listening.

"C'mon." Eddie begged, only looking up when Steve yelled out at someone. He saw Blake moving to the door, halfway out of it. "What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie yelled, head melting at the fact that here he was, holding Blake's girlfriend as she died while Blake was leaving.

"I'm sorry, I, I can't be here, so, um, I'll, I'm sorry," And with that stuttering mess Blake ran out the door, leaving Steve and Eddie alone with Y/N. The two didn't have time to be angry at Blake, too focused on Y/N.

"Steve?" Someone called from the hallway.

"In here!" Steve yelled back, and Eddie was relieved to see it was Nancy holding a white cloth.

"Put this here," Nancy slid to her knees in front of Y/N and Eddie, Robin and Jonathan trailing behind her with horror-stricken looks. Nancy pressed the cloth, which smelled strongly of alcohol, onto Y/N's nose as Eddie held her head up, tears beginning to run down his face.

"All right, stay with me. Stay with me." He begged, not letting himself think about what would happen if this didn't work. "Wake up. Wake up." He gripped her tighter, tears falling off his face and onto hers.

"Hold on," Nancy muttered, because this wasn't working. Y/N still lay unmoving in Eddie's arms.

"Please. Please, please, please, please." He had never begged for something this hard in his life, had never wanted so badly to be able to go back in time and change everything. He felt the guilt of this. He knew it was his fault. If he hadn't pushed her away, too afraid to face his fears, he would have been with her tonight. "Please don't, please don't." Someone was rubbing his back, telling him to breathe, but all he could think was that he wasn't the one that needed help. He felt the air draw out of him, the room closing in as more time passed without Y/N opening her eyes.

Eddie pulled her as close to his chest as possible, pressing kisses to her forehead in between muttered prayers and pleas for her to just stay with him, to breathe and open her eyes.

"Please," He muttered once more, raising his head to the ceiling and calling on anyone who was listening to help him. When he looked down again, Y/N's eyes were open - hooded and dilated, but she was responsive.

"It's you." She whispered, looking at him for a moment longer as he put his hand to her cheek before she closed her eyes once more, this time still breathing.

"The cops are here!" Robin called from the window, and everyone started moving. Steve and Eddie picked Y/N up, who's eyes are closing an opening at the rate of a turtle's.

"C'mon, we gotta go," Steve encourages, and Eddie has never been so grateful for someone who knew what to do. Usually, he likes to be in charge, likes to take control of situations, but right now he can't think. He's straining his ears as if he could hear her heartbeat somehow.

"She's not conscious." Eddie tells Steve, who silently leans down to help Y/N up. They had her arms over their shoulders, her feet dragging on the floor as the two boys carry her out.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Steve mutters as they get to Nancy's car, people running around and creating the perfect cover.

"I'm getting to him first." Eddie isn't seeing red yet, because he has to get Y/N to safety, but he knows as soon as she's okay he's going to go insane.

It takes three seconds for Y/N to be placed into the care of Robin, who looks up and expects Eddie and Steve to climb in.

"Make sure she's okay." Eddie says. He's already imagining every way he's going to hurt Blake.

"What?" Robin barely says before Steve is slamming the door shut and walking back into the house.

The men are lit by red and blue police lights as they make their way back into the house.

"Hey!" A hand on Eddie's shoulder stops him, which should top them off that they know this person because they went for Eddie's shoulder knowing Steve would wait. Eddie would not have had Steve been the one who was stopped. "What the hell are you two doing?" Hopper is standing there when they turn, arms crossed.

"I have to go kill someone." Eddie says, as if he isn't talking to the chief of police.

"Can I ask why?" Hopper doesn't seem very concerned, but he's sure Eddie is telling the truth by how angry he looks.

"You don't wanna know, Hop." Steve starts, knowing that Y/N won't get in trouble from him but not sure he wants to expose her.

"Are the kids okay?" Hopper asks, concerned.

"We got them out." Steve can tell Eddie is itching to break some bones, and he's not sure how happy Hopper would be about that.

"What happened to Y/N?" Hopper knows that the only reason Steve and Eddie would be marching into a party together is her.

"Hop," Steve starts, knowing that if they tell Hopper he'll probably tell them to leave so he can arrest the jackass. He needs to pummel Blake's face himself. He needs to let Eddie almost kill him and pull him back before any murdering actually occurs.

"She ODed and he pushed her off the bed before he left her not breathing on the ground." Eddie is about to turn around when Hopper grabs his arm. "You're gonna have to arrest me to keep me off of him, and if you're gonna do it you better do it now."

"Listen to me," Hopper says quietly, looking around to make sure the other officers are all doing something else. "I will keep them away from you. Whatever happens in the next fifteen minutes, I don't know about it. When I find him, it better look like a fight gone wrong and not a homicide. Got it?" His voice scared Steve, but invigorated Eddie.

"I only need ten." 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @xxhellfiregirlxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren