#millennial door

[valerioeliogabalotorrisi]

3/4 Bath Bathroom in Austin

The large cottage's bathroom Bathroom design with 3/4 white tile, medium tone wood floor, and brown floor, a two-piece toilet, white cabinets, black walls, a console sink, and quartz countertops.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Hoagie & Wally definitely the type of parents who use slangs wrong to tease their kids, like mixing early 2000s slangs with 2020s slangs

Are they doing it on purpose… or do they really think that’s how YOUTH speaks?

Bonus:

They had to be prepared.

[theboookwitch]

I’m loving the dramas coming out recently about burnt out millennials having mental breakdowns bc nothing is more relatable to me as a burnt out 34 year old constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. Except I’m so mentally fried that I cannot even contemplate dating or falling in love.

But I did recently find out my childhood-18 year old best friend divorced her husband and came out as a lesbian…I should call her.

[tootalltech]

okay. i feel like theres still Some People who may check the land of stories tag on here the way i occasionally do i know theres some fans of the series here at least. since a while back i wrote out an entire paragraph to briefly explain why im insane about lloyd bailey to my friends who dont know tlos, i figure, WHY NOT POST IT ON HERE where people who also know the series (and therefore this character) might see it <3 its at least a little funny to see how i try to explain things in tlos like the hall of dreams briefly with little to no details. this is also kind of like a brief summation of everything we know about lloyd AND JOHNS childhood which is interesting. see below.

sits down. let me set the scene. lloyd bailey is the younger son in a set of two. his mother is a very powerful fairy (#fairygodmother) who’s kind of like the chancellor of an entire kingdom. lloyd and his older brother john both very much have magic in their blood because of this. lloyd’s father dies when he is very young. he is “not the same” afterwards. he thinks his older brother john, who handles his fathers passing arguably “better”, is the favorite child. john is happy and cheerful and everyone loves him. lloyd sits in his dark room and reads books like the iron mask all day. lloyd’s mother does not know how to get to him. she figures out how to make a potion that can bring books to life, since he likes to read so much. she offers it to him. he turns her down. she goes into this magic little hallway (infinite space) where she can see what people truly desire. lloyd the 11 year olds desire (i don’t know how old he is.) is to take over the world. hm. a bit concerning. his mother takes him out into the forest on a nice walk, chains him to a tree, and drains his magic from him. lloyd is not a fan of his mother for this. he tells her that she never would’ve done this to john. his mother considers her action stopping him before he wreaks havoc on everything. lloyd considers this having his “birthright” stripped from him for “a crime [he] never committed” (direct quote). lloyd despises his mother. he runs away from home not long after. he considers the potion his mother made his. he only comes back home to try and steal it. he fails. he is sentenced to life in prison. his mother gives him a mask to wear so no one knows he’s her son. john moves to the otherworld and starts a family. lloyd rots in prison. lloyd’s son who he doesn’t know about is born. lloyd rots in prison. john dies. lloyd rots in prison. his mother loves john’s children and starts to train one of them in being her successor. this could’ve been lloyd. lloyd rots in prison. he doesn’t escape until his niece and nephew are teenagers and his niece is about ten times more powerful than him. because she has the gift that was ripped out of his hands. lloyd hates the world he lives in and its people and seeks to destroy it as soon as he’s out. i wonder why. in conclusion. im normal about him.

[onemomentaryremembrance]

Freshman year. Book 2. Pages 10-11.

*This post contains non-original work. Lyrics from Love Me Two Times (1967), performed by The Doors

[the-almighty-gob-john-langley]

Language, Gen X, LGBTPQRS - whatever!

Having already lived through 'ist' and 'ism' being tagged to almost everything by the millennials, my awareness of just how much our language has become diluted - When familiar terms misappropriated so as to become a catch-all, rather than being specific to origin became luminously apparent. This degeneration of a generation appears to have continued as if hereditary, with terms such as 'hatred' and 'hate speech' now having the broader translation of disagreeing by means of simply feeling offended, which, in itself, can mean all things to all people, as if, somehow, feeling offended is mandatory.

The fact that we were all born with free will and the ability to make choices seems to have been conveniently bypassed in favour of feelings towards something, or someone, and plain common sense that we would normally apply in such circumstances is bordering on non-existent nowadays. If I happen to strongly disagree with a female's perspective on something for example, then another catch-all term comes into play - 'misogyny,' and I'm somehow prejudiced against women. Utter bollocks!

I've also noticed quite starkly how nowadays it's become almost de rigueur for people to take it upon themselves to be offended on behalf of another, without realising just how patronising that can be in practice, with white, middle-class, young people engaging in a BLM march and it becomes all about them, and how they feel, when bizarrely they outnumber those who are black, as just one example. The overbearing sense of entitlement by Gen X in particular, from one point of view could be argued that it reflects a sense of freedom of expression and confidence in belief. Although conversely, there is also the perspective of this being more of an underlying insecurity in an increasingly less secure world Notice how terms such as 'crisis' and 'emergency' have become popularised so as to yet again be attributed to anything where 'situation,' or 'challenge' would otherwise suffice.

You see, going back a generation, or three, the pre-millennials were, by and large, brought up to be more robust, resilient, and stoic because pre- World War two it was almost embedded into the bloodline that nothing was handed down on a plate, there was no bank of mum and dad, parents were parents - and not 'friends' to their children: and nothing in life came easy. Now, while I'm no advocate for war, I cannot help but think that maybe another widescale war would hit the reset button. Because as things stand right now, if there was a war Gen X would be lining up to buy adult nappies off the shelves, so to speak.

It's become a very selfish world, I've noticed. A world of self-entitled, me-me's. None potentially worse than that faction of the LGBTPQR whatever movement: and more particularly the 'T' element. Now, to set out my stall from the get-go, I have absolutely nothing against trans people per se, for several years I had around 180 trams (MtF) friends who were regular visitors to my home and would come and stay for days at a time. On occasion, I've administered their hormone injections when asked and offered advice when relevant questions that would further enable and empower their journey forward were put to me.

To all intents and purposes, these were chics with dicks, and despite them all having received breast implants they were always very vocal as to still being male through bone density, pelvic shape, and muscular strength. Yet, see them in the street and you would absolutely believe that they were female in every sense. So, it came as no surprise that their comments towards what we see as Gen X, 'faux' trans, scruffy appearance wannabees, with facial growth while wearing a dress kind of gender centaurs, were less than favourable in content. Do people have the right to dress as they choose? Absolutely! It's arguably just their seemingly visual indolence that sets them apart from the 'real' trans people. So, if anyone chooses to dress like a female, good on them, just at the very least put some bloody effort into it because, generally speaking, women, for the most part, take pride in their appearance, wash their hair regularly, and don't go out looking like a WTF!

This, and other factors when it comes to Gen X heavily suggest a general malaise towards life where it's believed through learned helplessness, that self-entitlement is the magical key that opens the door to nearly everything, and in its naivety of such belief, the Gen x trans faction has created a degree of toxicity towards itself. Why? In the main because their entire world appears to be all about 'me'. Now, this is where we get down to 'brass tacks' interesting because it reverts back to language and how it's been manipulated to whatever collective narrative suits at that time, and it it doesn't fit people will soon find a way to shoehorn it in. So, people choose to 'identify' as …………

The keyword here is 'identity,' and identity is something we assume based on, for the most part anyway, the immediate environmental influences that we accept as most resonating with us as we grow through the various stages of our lives. So, as a for instance, when I was a child I clearly remember playing various roles as a doctor, fireman, soldier, and cowboy because those were the roles I identified with, largely due to television, and as I grew older my identities evolved again, and again, and again to where I am now as an older adult. However, identity does not make us who we are because identity is a construct: an idea or theory containing conceptual elements, and therefore entirely subjective because there is no empirical evidence to support it, other than it being someone's fantasy world: and based on life being a big stage in which we all play a part, the Gen X trans would be there in costume, and possibly look like something between the audition rejects of the Rocky Horror Show, and a drag queen's worst possible nightmare. Basically, the misfits.

Now, remember when I referred to the Gen X trans faction creating a "degree of toxicity towards itself"? Well, It will come as no great surprise that the reason for this is due to their mission creep to manipulate the law into believing that their concept is real. So, from that, my question is how can an entirely fictional concept ever be regarded as affording people equal rights, and the politicisation of such? Because if it does we're suddenly finding ourselves in a never-never land where the law of this country is concerned.

Let's say that tomorrow I decide to identify myself as a dwarf, and change my name by deed poll to 'Mini-Me.' Now even though I'm a little over six feet tall, as this would now be my legal identity, if anyone dared to challenge that I would be within my legal right to claim that I'm being discriminated against under the Act, and put forward an argument to say that compared to those who are far taller than me I'm dwarfed by comparison, because there is no counter-argument against that. It's an incontrovertible fact.

Okay, while I fully accept that was a random example straight off the top of my head while typing and there are far better examples of the point I'm making, you'll be intelligent enough, I hope, to envisage where I'm going with this.

There are people around the world who have paid thousands and thousands, if not their entire life savings to look like their favourite celebrity, and they'll walk, talk and adopt every possible mannerism of that person. Does it transform them into their favourite celebrity? Absolutely not.

Again, it's entirely conceptual. So, while I'm not in any way uncomfortable with people living the life they choose to live and for them to be happy with it, the message is for Gen X to check their egos and not get carried away with their delusional selves. Out of all the genuine trans people I've known, not one of them has ever made a big deal about it, would never dream of politicising it; or expecting some kind of special treatment by being trans. In fact, they are predominantly the most confident and happiest people among those I've met from all walks of life.

[eshabeautyblogs]

The Best Personal Finance Books You Need to Read

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[terribly-late-for-tea]

Aaaand Retrokid.ca is about to rob me blind... again...

[daeluin]

there are rumors already that taylor's team is planing to add up to two more dates in buenos aires like

girl we're in the middle of a fucking economic crisis and these people are dropping more than 70k on tickets to see tswift like estamos todos locos

[epellucid]

me: 

a millennial: oh my god this reminds me of **insert very widely known pop culture reference from the late 90s/early 00s** haha I know I’m showing my age but I’m just soooo old. You probably don’t even know what I’m talking about! I’m totally ancient!! do you even know what a CD is? lol I’m so old!!!

[banannabethchase]

Me: I need to research something for this fic.

Me *twenty minutes and 6 videos of Hangman later*: OH SHIT I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING SOMETHING.

[cutebat]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

The Other Half

Warning(s): Yandere themes (at the end), neglect, mentions of pills (but she doesn't actually take them), a lot of swearing, stealing, mentions of cheating and bribery, attempted guilt tripping, forcing to drop out, reader is just a millennial in the 2020s

(This chapter is basically the other part of the prologue, and I fixed some things. Most of this chapter just shows reader's personal life at school.)

~~~~~

How long has it been has you stopped being Batgirl?

Days... Weeks... Months... A year?

Honestly, you don't really care. It's more like you don't feel to care anymore.

After you threw out your costume in that dumpster, you just lost all hope of whatever you'll become.

You were walking down the hallway of the Wayne manor as you think about all of this.

If nobody really cared about what you did, then why bother keep going? I mean, your family didn't really give you a lot of praise.

You let out a heavy sigh as you enter the bathroom. When you locked the door, you couldn't help but stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your eyes were still kinda empty but a little bright at the same time. Your hair feels so smooth and soft. And your skin... it just looks so perfect. This makes you think to yourself...

Since when did you become so pretty?

After staring at yourself in the mirror, you were about to leave the bathroom before you gaze lands on something.

It was an orange pill bottle.

"SSRI..."

You mutter out as you read the label.

You opened the door to peak to see if anyone was in the hallway. Coast clear.

With that, you took the pill bottle and put it in your top since you didn't have any pockets.

~~~~~

The first week when you started eighth grade came by quickly.

You were just wandering down around the hallway alone as many students walked by you to either go to class or skip to go somewhere.

As you walked down the hallway, you spotted someone approaching you.

"Uh, hey."

The voice calls out to you as the person walks towards you.

It was a guy with slightly bushy blonde hair with brown eyes. He seems to be around your age.

You only blinked before you spoke up.

"Hi."

You responded blankly.

"Um, are you new here?"

He asks as he rubs the back of his head.

"I've been going here for two years."

You said as you just stood there, staring at this boring looking guy.

"Oh, cool... I just thought that since I've never seen you around here before. Anyway, do you know where your classes are?"

He asks which makes you tilt your head to the side a bit.

"Kinda. I've seen all of the classes here around this building, so I think I'm going to be fine."

You said as you place your hand on your hip.

"Okay, that's cool. I'm Peter, by the way. What's your name?"

The guy whose name is Peter introduces himself with a small smile.

You were silent for a bit, surprised that someone actually spoke to you. You decided to... be nice, I guess.

"(name)."

You simply replied with your hand still on your hip.

"Aw, cool. It was nice meeting you (name). Hey, if you want, maybe we can hang out. You know, as friends? Maybe more...?"

Peter said as if he had high hope.

You just blinked before you replied.

"I literally just met you."

"Well... yeah, but-"

The guy tries to explain himself before you caught him off again.

"Well, I'm going to find my class now. See ya."

You said before you turned and walked away.

Was that guy really trying to hit on you?

~~~~~

You enter the classroom that seems to look like any other classroom.

"Ah, we have our first tardy student. Welcome to English 2. My name is Ms. Tucker, what is yours?"

The teacher said as she turned to you.

You stayed by the doorway for a moment, looking unfazed.

"Um... Beyoncé?"

You replied which made the students in the class laugh.

"Settle down! I have to look it up in the attendance sheet, then..."

Your teacher said with a sigh before she pointed at an empty desk, indicating that your new seat was.

As you sat down, Ms. Tucker speaks up again.

"Alright then, now I see that everyone's present, I want to start off with some first day reading. Basically, like silent reading time."

She said before a girl raised her hand.

"Can we read manga?"

She asks, which makes the teacher raise her eyebrow.

"Is that like... a comic book?"

"Does it even matter?"

"Well, I don't think they're fitting for your age."

"You literally just said to 'read a book'. Manga is technically a book."

"I'm not sure if that's school appropriate."

"I just saw a manga section in the school library earlier, how the fuck is that not school appropriate?"

"Not getting to the point here. I'm just saying to read something more like you kids would like."

"And what's that?"

"How about... The Catcher in the Rye? Written by J.D. Salinger?"

Everyone fell silent before you spoke up.

"You're such a fucking white mom, it's not even funny."

This made everyone in the class burst out laughing.

"Excuse me, young lady?"

"You heard me, bitch."

The students laughed even more.

"Go to the headmaster's office!"

Ms. Tucker yells as she points to the door.

~~~~~

"You're on thin ice on the first day, (name)."

The headmaster said with her hands on her hips.

"It's not my fault that Ms. Tucker is such a bitch and also, there was this other girl who interrupted her."

You said as you were seated in front of her.

"Don't shift this onto someone else, (name). We're talking about you right now."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Accidentally call my teacher a fucking white mom?"

"You're supposed to follow the school rules and not insult your teachers. You should've known this."

"I do."

"Then, why did you do it anyway?"

You purse your lips before you respond.

"Because it's funny."

Your response made your headmaster sigh to calm herself down.

"Well... if this doesn't work out for you, we can always transfer you in an alternative educational system instead."

She suggests using a calm, patient expression on her face.

"I swear to god if you put me in one of those schools that have nothing but those weird, delusional people who believe in 'those' kinds of inclusivity topics, I will actually bully the fuck out of all of them."

You told her with a slightly irritated expression on your face.

"I wasn't implying to those schools, (name). We have other educational systems for students who don't seem to get along."

Your headmaster said which made you raise your eyebrow.

"Really now?"

"I wouldn't try to get into them if I were you. Please believe me when I tell you that the school you're in right now is actually a good thing."

She explains to you which made you seem to be in more thought.

~~~~~

Later in lunch, you were sitting at a table alone as you stared down at the food that Alfred made for you.

"Damn, it's fucking freezing in here. Why do they always turn up the AC?"

You mutter to yourself as you slightly shiver.

"Fucking tell me about it."

A voice pipes up that makes you look up to see two girls who are wearing the same uniform as you, walking over to you.

"Oh, sorry. Were you guys sitting here? I can move if you want."

You said before one of them shook her head.

"Nah, it's fine. You seem cool."

She said as she and the other girl sits down in front of you.

"I'm Noelle, and this is Sasha."

The girl in the bob cut said as the other girl nodded.

"I'm (name)."

You said in a bored tone.

"(name)... such a cute name. I like it."

Noelle said with a small smile.

"So, where did you come from?"

"The headmaster's office."

You said as you roll your eyes.

"Damn, the headmaster's office on the first day? What did you do?"

Sasha asks as she rests her chin on the palm of her hand.

"I told Ms. Tucker that she was a fucking white mom."

You respond in an emotionless tone.

"She is, isn't she?"

"Yeah, except I don't think she's married or anything."

"You don't need to be married to be a mom."

"That's true."

"Anyway, that was really good."

"I know."

You said with a small smirk on your face, feeling a sense of pride in yourself.

As the three of you were chatting, someone walks up to your table.

"Hey, guys. Hey, Sasha..."

Looking up, you see a slightly tall guy with brown hair, towering over the three of you.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Sasha asks as she glares up at the guy.

"It's me. Ian? I was in your social studies class last year. You know, year 8? You used to copy off of the tests that we took. I'm also in your geography class right now."

He said as Sasha just blankly stared up at him.

"Okay... cool."

"So, anyway, I actually wanna ask you something."

Ian said as he glanced down at the three girls below.

"Who?"

You ask with your eyebrow lifted.

"You, actually."

"Wait, me? Why?"

"I heard about you calling Ms. Tucker names and got sent to the office for that. I want to say that's actually pretty cool."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Yeah, so, anyway... I want to know if you're free either tonight or tomorrow."

"Why do you want to know?"

"I actually want to... take you out on a date."

"A date?"

You ask out loud with your eyes wide.

"Yeah. It's not going to be too extreme... just a simple night out at my favorite spot."

Ian said with a smile.

"And where's that?"

You ask with your eyebrow raised.

"The arcade at the alleyway."

"An arcade? Out of all the places, an arcade is your go to spot?"

"Yeah. It's pretty old, but it's also kinda cool."

You just blinked as you were in thought. The guy himself seemed pretty boring, but on second thought, you don't really want to go back home after school.

"Yeah, sure."

"Wait, really?"

Ian said out of suprise.

"Yeah, I have nothing else to do. My home life is pretty shitty anyway, so I have no problem."

You tell him.

"Oh, sweet. Okay, then. I'll give you my number to send you the location. It was nice meeting you."

He said before he placed a piece of paper in front of you before he walks off.

"Holy shit..."

Noelle mutters out.

"You got asked out by a grade 9 student."

Sasha said as she stared into you.

"Yeah... Is that a problem?"

You ask.

"No, not at all. It's just that... you got asked out by someone on the first day. That's pretty impressive."

Sasha said in an amazed tone.

"Yeah. I won't be that surprised that it's a super lame dude, but an older dude is kind of just... wow."

Noelle said with her eyes wide.

"So, if I get asked out by an older guy, does that mean it's a good thing?"

You ask as you lean back to your seat.

"Well, it depends on the guy. If he's just a few years older than you, that's fine. But really old dudes, no way."

Sasha said as she stares at your food.

"Hey, are you going to eat that? My mom won't make me anything cause I told her that her new haircut looks like a really trashy lesbian would have, and the school lunch here is just not it."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. The temperature in here made me lose my appetite."

You said as you pushed your lunch towards her.

~~~~~

After school, you went through a very long day.

You had your date with that Ian guy at the arcade. It's pretty trashy but kinda fun. He even got you this massive bunny plushie. After the date, he wanted to take you home, but you just left before he could say anything else. Then, you end up meeting a guy who seems to be around a few years older than you on your way home. He took you to an abandoned building, but he ended up falling asleep the second you two entered. So, you ended up taking his wallet for an Uber. Once the driver dropped you off, he gave you his number for some reason. It was weird, but you took it anyway cause, why not.

~~~~~

"Whew, what a day..."

You muttered to yourself as you entered the Wayne manor.

"Miss (name), where on earth have you been?"

Alfred, the family butler, asks out of shock as he comes downstairs to find you coming inside.

"At an arcade."

You reply in a blank tone.

"So, I'm supposed to believe the story of you being at an arcade after school all night?"

The old butler wonders with his eyebrow lifted.

"All night? I was there for about what... Two or three hours."

"It's two in the morning, miss (name)."

"Oh, wow. I really hung around that building for that long?"

You mutter to yourself out of surprise.

"What building are you talking about, miss (name)?"

Alfred asks as he walks up to you.

"Some abandoned building I went to after my date at that shitty arcade."

You tell the butler as he kneels down to your height.

"How far away were you? Did you walk? Your uniform is a mess!"

He asks as he took a look at you.

"Nah, I got myself an Uber. It's fine."

You tell him with your tone still blank as ever.

"Miss (name), I don't think it's a good idea to accept rides from strangers."

Alfred said with a heavy sigh as he led you upstairs.

"That's how Ubers work, Alfred. You just find someone pretty close to your location and let them drive you anywhere you want. It's like going on a taxi."

You explain to him as he takes you to your bedroom and lets you sit down on your desk chair.

"I suppose. However, you could have given Master Richard or Master Jason to pick you up. I think that'll be a safer option."

Alfred said in reply as he took out some comfortable clothes from your closet and handed them over to you.

"Why the hell should I call these fuckers? They don't give a shit about me anyway."

You snap at the butler as you snatch your clothes from him and go inside your own bathroom.

It was silent as Alfred stood in front of your bathroom door with a concerned expression and a heavy heart. Then, he speaks up again.

"I tried to talk to them again today, especially to Master Bruce. But, I got no response from all of them. I really tried. I'm really sorry, miss (name)."

His words made the old butler pursed his lips as he let out a sigh. He feels guilty that he didn't try enough for your family to at least give you a glance. He's been doing this ever since you got neglected and tried every single day with no response.

That's when you open the bathroom door with you wearing the clothes that he gave you. A yellow sweatshirt and a black skirt.

"It's fine, just forget about it. I appreciate though."

You tell him as you look up at him.

"Sorry for snapping at you a second ago..."

You added as you put some of your hair strands behind your ear.

However, the butler only smiles as he kneels down to your height once again.

"I understand, miss (name). It's not your fault. None of this is."

He reassures you as he places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"Even though they might not pay attention to you that much, I will always be by your side."

He tells you that made you smile a little.

"Thanks, Alfred."

You mutter out.

"Also, let's keep me coming back home a secret, okay? I know that they won't care if they find out, but still."

You add with a chuckle that made the butler smile.

"Alright. But, I will advise you to go to bed now. It's a school night, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Meanwhile, unknowingly to you, someone was beside your bedroom door, listening in the conversation.

~~~~~

Since then, you've never felt so... free.

You became friends with those two girls from lunch, and more guys asked you out while you two timed them the same time, and some of the teachers were so easy to bribe off that you ended up skipping most of your classes. At least you were still passing.

You also stayed up at night to do stuff like going out, doing some more lame dates, and most of all, just chilled out.

As long Alfred kept quiet about all this, then none of this would have a problem. Not that you have too much to worry about.

Life is going so well for you.

For now.

~~~~~

When the first semester ended and winter break started, you had a packed schedule ahead. You're planning to go on dates for the next two weeks straight. It was going to be tough, especially hanging around with a bunch of weird guys, but hey, at least they're buying you things that you want.

As you entered your bedroom because you forgot your phone, you were suprised to see...

Bruce?

He was sitting on your bed and seemed to be deep in thought before he looked up to see you standing by in the doorway.

"What are you doing in here?"

You ask as you walk into your room.

Bruce seems to be nervous before he lets out a sigh.

"(name)... we need to have a talk."

He said as he looked straight into your eyes which made you groan.

"Oh my god... Can we talk about this later? I have a date to go to."

You ask that made him a little frustrated.

"You're not going anywhere tonight, (name)."

He said that made you a little surprised.

"Why the hell not?"

"Watch your tone, young lady."

"Since when did you address me that?"

"Not the point right now."

Bruce lets out a sigh before he looks down at you.

"Look, I... was told about your behavior for the past months and I took a look through your things to check up on what was going on. I... didn't know what you were going through. None of us did. We didn't know that this the reason why you're behaving like this at school and started hanging out with the wrong people."

He tells you as he places his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry, (name)... I really am. Even though you can't forgive me for what I did, I'll try my best to be the best father you've ever had. I told the others about this and they'll start behaving and treat you the way that you deserve."

You just stood there, as if you heard the biggest news of your life, except not in a good way. It's as if something hit you right in the gut.

"Oh, shit! Um... okay."

You mutter out as you just stare at your adopted father.

Sensing your tenses, Bruce decided to go into more detail. Which was not a good idea...

"Because of this, I decided that you should be around people who me and the others will find alright. Since I don't know who you're around, Damian will check who your friends and the people you date are. Also, the family wants you to be around them. Such as spending time with them and basically having fun. Something that you never got to experience."

Now, this. This felt like a nuclear bomb dropped into your head.

"Are you serious...? Like, are you actually fucking serious right now?"

You ask as your eye twitches a bit.

"You really thought I could just accept whatever shit that comes out of your mouth because you suddenly remember what you and those other fuckers treated me? Now, you want me to drop out of the life that I kinda enjoy? You sure are funny, are you?"

You said in a bitter tone before your lips curled into a snarl.

"I will never forget about the shit that I went through to please you and that shitty family that I was forced to be a part of."

You added as you walked to Bruce and got in his face before you spit out the next two words out of your mouth.

"Fuck you and your family."

With that, you stormed out of your bedroom as Bruce calls out for you.

~~~~~

Your mind was flooded with so much anger that you ended up forgetting about the three dates that you were supposed to go to today.

This wasn't the way you wanted to start your winter break.

You don't know why, but you stormed into the attic and sat down on the floor.

"Fuck!"

You yelled out as you panted slightly.

As you were panting, you looked down to finally notice a glittery diary in your hand. Since when did you get your hand on this?

You can't help but open the diary to find all the pages empty. It's not really a suprise then you never used it in your life. You don't even remember when you got this.

So, you looked around before your eyes landed on a random pen lying on the ground. Without thinking, you picked it up and opened the diary to the very first page.

With that, you started to write your 'entry'.

It's time to show the world of this game that you're forced to be in.

•

•

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15 @lilyalone @seraph101 @lain3iwakura @tacodeemon @whiterabbitxxx @yuyuzi-ling @lilithquillete @amisupposedtomakesenserightnow @una1002289 @spacetravelr @luckyangelballoon @illytian @ghostdoodlen @imaginarydreams @flyingpansaurus @wrenbirde @kimzzz18 @ohnoivefallen @ferakillia @f1lover4ever @asahi20789 @livingforloves @moonieper @rosecentury @waitingforanarchicaddiction @missmannequin @mischiefmanaged124 @hanselate @doli09 @chocolatemoose26 @enjisthings @stitchtheseconde @purple-lemon-8 @milliu @blublock404

(If you want to be in the taglist, let me know!)

[buckets-and-trees]

Whining to Bucky that you're horny, but also that it's too hot and you're too sticky for sex 😫

Title: Too Hot Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 700 Summary: Standalone part of the Desperate to Devoted story. Summer in the city. Heatwave. Too hot. Boyfriend doesn't care.

Content/Warnings: established relationship, vaginal fingering, excessive heat wave, vibranium arm special features

Author Notes: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO READ ANY OF THE REST OF THIS SERIES. True stand-alone but does take place after Big Conversation, so they're at the point of an established, committed relationship. Week six of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "I won't be able to stop myself." Also filling my April box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with the "gradually moving in together" prompt.

Flat on your back on your bed, you heard the buzz of your phone on the mattress next to you, but you didn’t want to move.

You’d finally edged out of being miserably hot after laying under the ceiling fan and enough of the day’s heat wave levels of heat only just beginning to dissipate outside.

Checking the text would require moving, and your limbs still felt like too much of a burden.

Bzz.

You weren’t sure if it was another text or the reminder that you had an unopened message, so you didn’t open your eyes.

Bzz.

Bzz.

You smiled and finally reached for the phone. Only one person would be sending you multiple texts.

Bucky.

Lifting the phone and opening your eyes, you saw you were right and unlocked the screen to read the messages.

BUCKY: Just landed, will head your way as soon as we debrief.

BUCKY: I know it’s only been two days, but I missed you like crazy!

BUCKY: Should I pick up something for dinner?

BUCKY: Can’t wait to hear your laugh and feel your lips against mine you have me crazy for you…

Your smile turned into a grin, and you rolled over onto your stomach and began typing your reply.

YOU: No food, only ice cream. Too hot.

YOU: Missed you, too, but no touching. Too hot!

You sent the red, hot-faced emoji for good measure.

His reply came through a few moments later.

BUCKY: No can do, I’m dying to sink my cock into your cunt.

Your stomach instantly flipped reading those words.

“Fuck you, Bucky Barnes.”

YOU: Hot is winning over horny.

At least for now. Though your core was feeling enticed, the rest of your body rebelled against the thought of the heat of another body anywhere close to you.

BUCKY: We’ll see about that… I won’t be able to stop myself.

Your stomach flipped again.

Six months ago, Bucky was the man you begrudgingly worked with when assigned to missions for his team, and now he was your insatiable boyfriend.

YOU: When you get here you might change your mind…

An hour later, you heard Bucky’s key turning in the lock of the front door. He hasn’t moved into your place, but he’s over often enough now that you gave him a key.

“Damn,” he said, voice raised enough for you to hear him in the other room, though your place isn’t terribly large. “I had no idea it was this hot!”

“Air conditioning is out,” you replied. You heard him setting a couple of bags on the counter – likely food he picked up. “They have someone coming tomorrow to look at it.”

“You should’ve gone to my place,” he said, “even when I’m not there, you’re always wel-,” he paused when he stepped into the bedroom doorway, “-come.”

He groaned.

“Do not even touch me,” you warned in all seriousness.

“This is not fair,” he replied. “You expect me to leave you alone when I haven’t seen my girl in two days, and you’re laid out in only your underwear on the bed?”

“I do not want any skin on my skin, Barnes.”

It was a testament to how hot you were that your brain had not even come close to thinking of the key Bucky had also given to you to his place.

You didn’t open your eyes, too exhausted from the heat, but you could feel his gaze roaming over your form.

“You’re making this hard in more ways than one,” he grumbled.

“I’m resigned to my melted fate.”

The mattress dipped with Bucky’s weight, and you groaned. “No.”

But then you gasped and your eyes flew open when very cold vibranium fingers skimmed up your inner thigh.

“No?” he chuckled.

“I didn’t know you could…?” you trail off, distracted when his fingers slip beneath the gusset of your panties and begin to tease your wet folds.

“It’s not a feature I usually need.”

You gripped the cool metal of his arm, holding him firm against your pussy.

“I want one orgasm from my girl, and then we’re staying the night at my place. It’s too hot here for anything, and definitely too hot for everything I want to do with you tonight.”

You whimpered and let your legs fall open when two of his fingers entered your aching hole. “Deal, absolute fucking deal,” you agreed.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

....I'm sure that was not the intention when Suri programmed his limb to be able to drastically change temperature, but certainly coming in handy at this moment. 😏

[chaos0pikachu]

word of honor is a comfort show specifically for scenes like when Cheng Ling the accidently adopted child of two mass murderers gets kidnapped by Soft Butch Assassin and her girlfriend High Femme Assassin for a piece of the glazed donut when Zhou Zi Shu shows up like "UNHAND MY CHILD!!" And CL is all "omg I'm your son 🥺🥺" and ZZS is like "I suddenly can't read I don't know mariah carey.gif" meanwhile our lesbian assassins are like "god people have no respect for torture time anymore" and they all have a swirly twirly fight b/c everyone is dressed to the NINES b/c if you're gonna be a murderer in a wuxia show you are also gonna look PEAK FABULOUS thank you very fucking much and then ZZS is like "oh no my nipple nails of cancer are acting up" and whenever his nipples are aching who shows up but Wen Ke Xing busting through the door like the koolaid man with the energy of a queen lip syncing for her life on Rupaul all "HOW DARE YOU HARM MY HUSBAND AND OUR CHILD" and ZZS is like "he's not our child!!" and another swirly twirly fight happens and the lesbians dip so our marital arts family chases them outside only to be confronted by ZOMBIES or crackheads whichever and WKX is like "husband, take our child and run" and ZZS is obviously not gonna do that cause like both a feral cat & a millennial he's always Down to Fight and also lacks general self-preservation so WKX is like "dying alongside you is also a beautiful way to die" meanwhile CL in the back wondering if they could all just not die like he didn't stick a piece of the glazed donut in his stomach and hang out with his boring, beige, busted uncles for 2 weeks just get eaten train to busan style the fuck

and then Scorpion King (not the rock) floats down from the sky in slow mo like a Jrock act floating down onto the stage playing his little guitar like "HELLOOOOOOOO ANCIENT CHINA!! HOW WE FEELING TONIGHT?" and ZZS is like "not a fucking band kid" so he throws smoke bombs naruto style and they all dip

and in the end of all~~~ of this CL is like "so I'm your son right?" and ZZS is like, "fuck it, fine" and signs the adoption papers while wwx is like planning an autumn wedding

[gyummigon]

☆ my days with you (they are always happy)

beomgyu x gn!reader

୨୧ genre: fluff/comfort ୨୧ word count: 4.4k ୨୧ summary: after having a crush on your best friend for months, you have a silly, very silly, confession of feelings. ୨୧ a/n: truth be told, this is a little silly, and cheesy, but I wanted needed to write something that felt easy and refreshing. it's a little longer than i originally thought it would be, but it was fun. hope you like it, have a nice day:))

You liked Beomgyu. You liked him because of the way his eyes sparkled when he hummed his favorite song while doing the dishes, when he collapsed on the bed after an endless list of complaints about how tired he was, or when he spoke with overflowing emotion about the things he liked. You liked him because you found in him a kind of gentleness that you didn't find in the rest of the world, that you didn't think you could get from a man. And the amazing thing is that he was a man, but when you were with him, it was as if you saw the world through the eyes of a child. Eyes that saw happiness and didn't twist it, but made it bigger, spread it out and expanded it until those eyes - brown and deep and enchantingly beautiful - were the last thing left.

Perhaps you were in love with one of your closest friends. Or maybe you were just in the right place.

This thought was even harder to resolve when you arrived at your parents' house that Sunday afternoon, having checked off every single item on your mother's shopping list. You had only been out shopping for an hour, but it was as if you were returning home for the first time after the days out of town you had left behind. You didn't even know when you'd left the bags of groceries at the front door, or when you'd turned back to the garden to see that beaming smile with the wrinkles in the cheeks, let alone when your voice, shaky and too anxious for your taste, uttered an embarrassed "hey".

Beomgyu, who until then had been laughing at a ridiculous joke he had shared with your father, turned to look at you with an enchanting calm that could only be found on a beach at sunset, when the moon was doing its thing and the tide was ebbing in deep, sentimental sighs. The boy seemed to see something you couldn't define on your face, for his smile shrank to a soft, almost shy line.

You didn't take your attention off your face as he approached, hands hidden behind his back, and stopped in front of you. Despite your father's loud voice, the mischievous laughter of your younger siblings, and your mother's scolding of the dog to keep it away from the meat ready for roasting, the only thing you found yourself paying attention to was the disturbingly fast beating of your heart.

"Hey," you repeated, no less awkwardly. "What is this, I travel for a few weeks and suddenly my family has already adopted you?"

Beomgyu kept his shy smile and leaned against one of the wooden boards of the porch for a moment. His checkered shirt billowed slightly in the soft summer breeze.

"I think it's your father who decided to adopt me. He says I'm the exact representation of his youth: charming, talented, and outrageously beautiful."

"I think he says that to every young person he meets."

"Are you saying I shouldn't believe him?"

You didn't know when you started smiling, but your cheeks were sure to hurt if you didn't relax the muscles in your face soon.

"No, I'm just saying my father talks too much."

"A sincere and open man, I like him."

"As sincere as a politician in an election debate."

Beomgyu laughed and looked out into the garden, where your father was still sitting in a folding chair with a scowl on his face, trying to light the wood-burning barbecue. In a measured, polite voice that you didn't know he could have and that almost made you want to mock him, Beomgyu offered to help; but when your father looked up and - in the most millennial, bland way possible - gave him a thumbs-up before shouting a friendly "I've got it under control, son," for some stupid, irrational, and probably childish reason, you blushed. You blushed badly.

What the hell, since when did your father call Beomgyu "son"? And since when did your family normally invite one of your friends to join them on Burger Sunday? Was that your mother putting another plate on the table? Was that what Beomgyu did while you were away? Eat your burger in your place?

Beomgyu seemed to read the thoughts embodied in your expression very well, because he laughed softly and lifted a shoulder with an unseemly shyness. Surely, that's how you had captivated them all.

You little harpy.

And yet, to see him as vibrant and jovial as when you left was like a Band-Aid that lightened the burden of stress you'd endured these past few days. When you arrived in town last Thursday night, the first thing you thought of was to look for him, but the idiot had gotten sick from drinking bad milk and had begged you not to visit him until his diarrhea was over. He hadn't texted you since the night before, and you were beginning to think he'd dropped his phone in the toilet during one of his diarrhea attacks, but what you didn't expect was to find him at your house on your way home from the supermarket, nor did you expect to feel the way you felt: nervous, with words thought but never spoken, with desires intensified but more terrifying than ever.

"So... how was the convention that starved you for almost a month?"

You looked up as your younger brother ran past you, the dog not far behind. Before reaching the short stairs that led into the house, Beomgyu scooped your brother up in his arms and spun him around in the air before setting him down and encouraging him back to where your parents were. Your brother ran off with the dog behind him.

You blinked.

"It was a month of physical pain. I didn't know what an international accounting convention would be like until I went to one. I thought it would be like the boring lectures we had in high school and college, but apparently businessmen have fun with taxes and returns."

Beomgyu snorted in amusement and shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he turned to lean against the railing, looking you in the eye with that sweet smile of his.

"I missed you."

"Oh, did you?" you asked, keeping a neutral expression on your face as you raised an eyebrow. Despite your coolness, it wasn't hard to notice a slight blush spreading across your cheeks. It wasn't that you had been away from him for a long time, you had been apart for months at other times, but there was something different about his words this time that made you wonder if he really missed you or if he missed you the way you felt.

"Is that why you snuck into my house as an undercover usurper?"

"See, I've been taking over your family members one by one," he said with mock seriousness as he gave you an exaggerated look. But then the mischievous smile returned to his face, and he took a step closer. "What's the matter with you, aren't you going to confess that you missed me, that you were writhing in agony without my presence?"

"You've been texting me almost every day for the past three weeks, Beomgyu. I don't know how I could have missed you."

Her lips curled into a pout of indignation as she frowned. You noticed that one of his hands was on the railing, inches from yours. "That's really cruel. He was really unhappy."

"Right, how's your diarrhea?"

"Uhmm," he hummed, and from a distance you could tell he was trying to maintain a disinterested expression as he looked away. "I'm a feisty guy, you know? A diet based on soda crackers and oral electrolytes and puf, good as new. Why, are you going to make fun of me? Because let me tell you, you won't make me suffer as much as Yeonjun and Soobin already have."

"Diarrhea teasing is not my strong point."

Beomgyu let out a gasping, feigned sigh and placed his right hand over his heart, his eyes dramatically wide. "Is this empathy real, is it possible you'll come back a little softer?"

You snorted and shook your head. You couldn't remember when last summer had been like this: quiet conversations, laughter, and a silence that seemed somehow comfortable even when tension was building between you. You had forgotten the ease that had always existed between the two of you. You used to hate these months of excessive heat and aimless days, but ever since you met Beomgyu, you begged for every chance to laugh together, no matter the season.

"I'm not going to laugh," you said, lowering your eyes to your hands. You were about to say something else, but the words died in your mouth as he moved even closer, sliding his hand over yours on the railing.

You nearly choked on your own saliva. God, why did you get so nervous, didn't you just talk about diarrhea a few seconds ago?

You said nothing, and neither did he, but you watched his cautious, anxious expression before looking down again at your joined hands with his hand: yours flattened against the light wood, covered by his slender fingers and the soft, delicate pads of his thumbs, almost always rough and calloused from constant use of his guitar. His hand was warm, and you felt your heart flutter as he ran his thumb over the knuckles of your hand. It was a gentle, casual, maybe even innocent gesture, but it felt like a million fireworks on the skin of your hand.

"I... I thought about you while I was away."

He didn't answer, he just turned to look at you, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beat faster when you saw the look on his face. His smile was still there, but it had changed, it had become softer, and you felt like it was the only thing you could hold onto to keep from blurting out the pile of words that had begun to form on the tip of your tongue.

"It's stupid, isn't it?" you added, trying not to notice the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as his fingers brushed harder against yours, as if encouraging you to speak, to spit out the words before they bloated your stomach and turned you into a useless ball of desire and... God, weren't those lips so beautiful? "I've missed you. I've missed you all week."

"All month?" He corrected quietly, and you just rolled your eyes as you tilted your head toward the floor and kicked an invisible rock.

"I guess I miss you every day since I met you."

Even though you saw his smile widen out of the corner of your eye, he didn't respond right away, and that made the knot of apprehension in your chest grow. However, the wave of fear dissipated as soon as it came. His thumb was right on your pulse, probably sensing the way it had quickened for him. His touch was tender, nothing more than the gentle pressure of his thumb against your skin, but you were so mesmerized by the soft gesture that you barely noticed when he took a step closer, his body so close to yours that it was as if you were enveloped in the soft scent of his cologne. It felt like a secret moment, the way that even with your whole family gathered around the grill preparing dinner and the two of you, separated by the noise, just a few feet away, you didn't seem to notice anything but each other's presence.

"Tell me more about it." His voice was lower, softer, sending shivers down your spine.

"You want me to talk about how I missed you?"

He bit his lip as he gave you a mischievous, perhaps very silly smile and... No, it definitely wasn't the smile of someone who wanted to grab your heart and run away, was it? Because, hell, it felt like that.

You forced yourself to look away from his lips. Nothing could make you stupider. Nothing could make you freak out more. You had to avoid them, avoid the madness. But it was in vain, a deluded attempt to escape the traps of your heart, because just as you looked into his eyes, he dropped his gaze to your mouth for a moment, and you were convinced he could feel your pulse fluttering under his thumb. He took another step. Now he was close enough to push your back against the railing, his hand fully clenched over yours, and his eyes lost on your lips, begging you to speak up and do something stupid.

And so you did.

"I... I can tell you how I think of you when I see something funny. Or something frighteningly beautiful. Like those pink sunrises we barely see if we're not lazy and stay in bed till noon. Or two cats curled up on the sidewalk. Not that I want to cuddle with you, mind you... Well, it's not that I don't want to. The point is, cats are cute. Like you."

With a grimace, you paused to take it in and then forced yourself to pretend you hadn't said that. But you were strong, and you didn't let yourself stop, because you had already screwed up, and you knew that if you didn't say those words right then, you could never say them again.

"Today I was surprised to see you with my father, laughing and joking, when my father doesn't laugh with any boy who is related to me. Then I was even more surprised that it felt so intimate, so familiar, so close. I don't know if it was like one of those equations that I know at first glance will make me lose my mind and want to give up life at the slightest attempt to solve it, or one of those formulas that, even unsolved, look like one of the most beautiful in the mathematical world. Yes, I... I just made a metaphor using the words "beautiful" and "mathematical" in the same sentence. Okay, okay, stop laughing. It's just... You laughing with my father, what a disaster. What a disaster to realize that every aspect of my life likes you and what a disaster that every aspect of my life clings to you so much. I think that's why I miss you even when we're close. I don't want there to be any distance between us.

There it was, you said it. Done. Now you could breathe. Now your heart could relax a little, take a blanket and wait for the rainbow or the misfortune. It could go get a bunch of duct tape and Band-Aids or get naked and pole dance around an artery. It could get a funeral box or start believing that it's immortal. And it all depended on the guy in front of you.

Beomgyu's gaze was soft, as soft and gentle as the scenarios that automatically began to form in your head when you saw the mixture of surprise and tenderness that ran through his expression when you finished speaking. He looked down at his hands clasped against yours and exhaled a laugh that came out a little shaky. Then he returned to your gaze and stood there, silently studying you.

"I want to answer you," he whispered, "but I want to make sure I find the right words.

Idiot.

You tried very hard to keep a serene expression on your face, as if your world wasn't hanging by a thread. Then he did something you'd never seen before: he swallowed spit, his gaze sliding down to linger on your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes and swallowing again. "Wait a minute," he said hoarsely.

Without warning, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing against the railing as you struggled to catch your breath.What the hell had that been? You watched as he walked over to the garden table, grabbed a soda, then walked back over to you and leaned against the railing next to you.

He cleared his throat, took a sip, then looked back at you.

"Are you kidding me?" there was a mix of emotions in your voice, amusement, confusion, embarrassment, insecurity, indignation..., the urge to grab the soda can from him and bash his head with it.

Beomgyu blinked, seemingly surprised by your statement, then laughed, his mouth twisting into a smile that felt like a prize.

"What?" he asked, his eyes flashing. You tightened your mouth and he laughed even harder. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"What an asshole," you muttered, nudging his side.

He laughed, but his arms shot out to hold you, just as your nudge knocked him off balance for a moment. His hands wrapped around your arms and he straightened up, but he didn't let go of you or wipe that goofy grin off his face. You struggled to keep up the gesture of annoyance, though it didn't work very well when he pulled you to him.

"I... I'm actually pretty nervous."

His gaze had dropped to your mouth again, and when it came back up to meet your eyes, he bit his lip. His gaze was intense, as if he was struggling to find the right words to say whatever it was he was thinking. He let go of your arms to lean against the railing next to you, keeping his distance so close that your shoulder was trapped between his right arm and his side.

"I want to kiss you, but your dad is right behind me and I'm afraid he'll leave me without a burger," he joked, but his laugh came out too quickly and you realized he was really nervous. His gaze landed on your mouth again and he held it there for what seemed like an eternity before he let out a loud breath and closed his eyes. You were still processing the fact that the words "I want to kiss you" had just come out of his mouth.

"I'm sure you can live without a hamburger, Beomgyu."

His gaze returned to your mouth and your heart skipped a beat as he came even closer. Now he was so close you could feel his breath caressing your lips as he brought his hand to your waist to pull you even closer, and his lips - so soft, so tantalizing, and so agonizingly close to yours - parted and they were about to say something when suddenly your father's voice boomed across the yard.

"Hey, guys," he said in a hoarse voice. "Dinner's almost ready."

The sound of his voice made you jump, and you were surprised at how quickly Beomgyu turned away, taking several steps back and moving as far away from you as possible. His face was red and he held his arms carefully at his sides as your father looked up at the two of you.

"Is everything okay here? You two looked very... lovey-dovey," your father joked, his eyes narrowing as he watched both of your reddened faces and Beomgyu desperately trying to act normal.

"Eh-" Beomgyu opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He opened and closed his mouth as if he was struggling to come up with an excuse. Your father, who was now smiling broadly, looked from Beomgyu to you and back to Beomgyu, who was still struggling. "Sir, I am in love with your daughter."

His unplanned statement came out in a rush, and your face quickly turned to him, mouth agape. He was also surprised by his own words, his eyes widened even more and he now looked at you in disbelief, his lips parted slightly as he processed what he had said. My goodness...

Your father had dropped the lid of the grill, your mother had stopped making the salad, and your brothers had stopped torturing the dog to look at you and Beomgyu. There was silence; no one moved or said anything. For a moment there was only the humming of the grill and the whisper of an occasional breeze. You were sure that Beomgyu could hear your heart beating in your chest and you were sure that you could hear it when he swallowed spit. He was so red, so shocked, that you thought he would faint right there, or run out first and then pass out in front of your house.

"Gee, well." After a long silence, your father nodded and added, "I'm sure dinner will be a long one."

You wondered if the seriousness in his tone was real.

Beomgyu shivered like a tired old oak leaf. Your mother shook her head, struggling to keep a smile from peeking out of her lips. Your siblings, like you, just stared at him, eyes wide.

Your father broke the second silence by clearing his throat and tapping the lid of the grill.

"I think the burgers are ready."

Before you could find the stability to move towards your family, Beomgyu's hand wrapped around your arm and his eyes, now wide and ridiculously expressive, shouted the words you had been waiting for.

"Listen."

"Yes?"

"I... I... It slipped out of my mouth."

"I know." Oh, God. No. You didn't know. You didn't know anything. You weren't thinking clearly. Your heart had eloped to a party and your brain had followed.

"Your dad likes me, look, it doesn't look like he's going to let me go without a burger."

"Beomgyu, I..."

"Listen," he repeated, and you would have told him to lower his voice if you hadn't seen his determination. "If your father banishes me from your house and I don't survive the heartbreak to tell you, I want you to know that I've been thinking about you all this time, every day, at all hours; especially in the morning, which is why every day starts out well now and is all happy and pretty and cheesy and all that. You're so... so fucking cute and distracting, which is why you saw me with my shirt on backwards the other day, which also explains the toothpaste stain on my sweater; oh! And the different colored socks. I didn't know that... This, that... you know, yeah... Love made people so clumsy and clueless, but now I know that if I get hit by a tricycle going three miles an hour, it will be because I was thinking of you”.

He was still talking, the words coming out of him as fast as the stream of water coming out of the hose one of your brothers was using to wash a sausage he had dropped on the floor. You just stood there, mouth agape, struggling to take in and process all those words.

"And just a moment ago I was so excited, so high, such an idiot for what you said to me, I can't believe I almost left without telling you, because I've been wanting to tell you forever. I don't know if it was those beautiful cheeks that I want to cradle and pull and pinch and bite all the time, or if it was the way your lashes whispered romantic tales and happy endings to me. I... I don't know how you did it, or what seductive trick you used to trap me, but you can take as much from me as you want; I don't know how much I have, only that I was empty until you came”.

Beomgyu finished, paused for a moment, and then smiled and shrugged, such an adorable and nervous and yet ridiculous and funny gesture. "Well, that... that's it."

There was no air in your lungs. Your heart, which had come back drunk, racing and out of breath, was beating so fast that you couldn't think of anything but the deafening sound it was making in your chest. One, two, three minutes passed and you still hadn't regained your mobility. Beomgyu inhaled sharply, shrugged again, and gestured to the table where the rest of your family was already sitting, looking at you, trying to pretend they weren't listening.

"I think they're all waiting for us to eat."

Fortunately, he made the decision for you and took your hand to lead you to the table. You still had your eyes fixed on him and your mouth hanging open as he led you to your seat. You sat down and your trembling legs were grateful, but your hand felt empty, sweaty and scared when it came away from his.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, blushed at the sight of you and murmured, "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" Then he left, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

Your father looked at you as if he expected you to say something, but he must have seen the embarrassment and confusion on your face, because he then turned to your mother. "Did you understand him? I didn't understand him."

Your mother laughed. "I love that boy, but God, he talks fast."

"He wants to bite her cheeks," said one of your siblings.

"And pinch them." Said the other.

Your father nearly choked on his soda, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"What? What is he talking about?"

"He wants to bite her!" your younger brother nearly howled with laughter. "He's always talking about biting her cheeks."

"And pinching them."

You covered your face with your hands and grinned like a fool. You didn't mind the dozens of questions your father asked and the teasing of your siblings; you looked at your mother's smile, full of peace, hope, promised laughter and dreams to be fulfilled, and you admitted to yourself that the days with Beomgyu would always carry a load of happiness that was capable of subtracting the importance of everything else.

At the same time, Beomgyu was leaning against the wall and facing the closed bathroom door, trying to sort out his thoughts. As he stood in front of you, the words came out of him so fast that he didn't even have time to realize how hasty and awkward his statement was. He felt exposed, vulnerable, he needed a moment or two or many to recover, but he was undeniably happy.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking of you and laughing for no reason.

"Oh my God..." he murmured. "I'm so fucked up."

୨୧ txt - masterlist ୨୧ © gyummigon | all rights reserved. copying or adaptation prohibited.

[highvern]

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

m.list + support my work

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

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives. 

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?” 

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.” 

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary. 

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand 

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :) 

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s. 

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.” 

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically. 

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?” 

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time. 

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.” 

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?” 

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.” 

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?” 

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again. 

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect. 

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company. 

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.” 

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them. 

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter. 

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television. 

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body. 

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation. 

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again. 

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel. 

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between.. 

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm. 

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure. 

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in. 

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it. 

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge. 

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your  underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again. 

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover. 

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered. 

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough. 

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence. 

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine. 

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut. 

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing. 

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight. 

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing. 

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day. 

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door. 

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live. 

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat. 

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.” 

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.” 

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior  drowsiness transforms into irritation. 

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

 It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy. 

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man. 

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.” 

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.” 

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra. 

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head. 

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came. 

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair. 

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago. 

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway. 

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet. 

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently. 

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.” 

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes. 

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy. 

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch. 

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up. 

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you. 

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.” 

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants. 

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath. 

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones. 

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back. 

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt. 

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions. 

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want. 

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place. 

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action. 

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start. 

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate. 

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls. 

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?” 

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples. 

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue. 

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own. 

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half. 

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper. 

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance. 

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught. 

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again. 

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you. 

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips. 

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?” 

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing. 

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.” 

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy. 

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole. 

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant. 

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care. 

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

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