#music with words can be a bit distracting so it helps me focus

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

�� masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.�� 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[chelseeebe]

too sweet (for me)

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of violence and drugs. eddie is a dick but not when it comes to r <333 :} female!reader

eddie munson had been hardened by life. how could one night possibly demolish all of the walls he had spent so long building?

a/n: sorry for being mia again lol i am trying i swear!! i have another eddie fic coming that i love and probably the other parts to the steve zombie au! i’m usually never busy but these last few weeks have been wild

read part two here.

the club is too loud, too busy and too sweaty. eddie wasn’t a fan, never had been.

he squeezes past the crowd, grumbling to himself as he goes. eddie preferred to be in bed by three. his mom was very spiritual and had drilled into him that nothing good could come out of being awake at the witching hour.

something or someone knocks into him, or vice versa, he can’t really tell. it’s too dark and he’s had too much to even really care.

“watch it,” you snap, twisting around to send the dirtiest glare.

“what the fuck? you bumped into me,” he shouts over the loud thumping beat. immediately wishing he could swallow his words, noticing your eyes narrow, sizing him up. you’re the prettiest girl in this place, the only one he’s even looked at twice and now you hated him.

“whatever asshole,” you snarl, before continuing your way to the busy bar.

eddie hesitates for a moment before shoving through the path you’d made, angering another ten people on his way. he didn’t care, that couldn’t be your only impression of him.

he catches up, squeezing into the tiny space next to you, leaning against the sticky marble as you wait patiently.

his hand brushes your arm, earning another sly glance, face screwing up as you realise he’d tailed you to the bar.

“sorry,” he starts, not giving you the opportunity to tell him to fuck off first. “i wanted to apologise.. i was rude,” tongue resting on his bottom lip, appreciating the new found lighting and how it made you glow.

“you were,” smiling pointedly, eyes trailing down his chest, “but you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

eddie stares, mouth agape at your brutal, up-front attitude before it turns to a tiny smirk, “i think that’s fair,” honestly he admired it. the only girl in here worth a second glance.

“vodka,” you add, making room for him to order.

he takes one last admiring look at you before turning to the bartender.

you tunnel your way back through the crowd, your friends long gone by now. eddie didn’t mind keeping you company, not one bit.

his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you gently back towards him. rightfully earning another scathing glare as you stop, inches in front of him.

“you’re not gonna even tell me your name?” he leans in, smirking as he does.

your lips brush against his ear, name soft as silk as you mutter into his hair. it sends shivers down his spine, wanting your lips on his ear and his neck.

“eddie,” he replies, resting his hand on the small of your back, keeping you close in the packed club.

“are you a dancer, eddie?” the way his name rolls off of your tongue makes him unfathomably crazy.

“not really,” he mumbles, tongue poking out of his lips.

“too bad,” your smirk, pulling towards the bustling dance floor before he can argue against it.

he didn’t like clubbing nor dancing but if you insist, he couldn’t say no.

the music ripples around him, hazy when all he can focus on is you and the way your hips twist in time to the beat. you’re not even trying and yet he’s completely encapsulated by your body.

there’s an attempt at dancing along with you, though he’s not any good. itching to just place his hands on your waist and let you guide him.

the purple light catches your eye as you move closer, eddie’s eyes latched onto you the entire time.

“you’re really not a dancer, are ya’?” you lean in to whisper.

“can’t help it, i’m distracted,” he purrs, daring to place his hand on the small of your back.

you purse your lips, keeping whatever snarky comment to yourself.

fuck it.

“d’you wanna get out of here?” eddie asks, “i know a place.”

your brow quirks, “hm? how do i know you won’t kidnap me?”

he tilts his head, meeting your eye, “you’ll just have to trust me,” offering his hand for you to take, eager to get you out of this club.

really, he’d go anywhere if it meant he could look at you properly without getting elbowed in the back by sweaty drunks.

you hesitate for a split second, which he supposes is fair, before placing your hand in his, permission to lead you from the dance floor and out into the chilly night.

your arms wrap around yourself, shivering in the cold.

eddie doesn’t hesitate, taking his jacket off and placing it around your shoulders. “it’s not far from here.. we can walk?”

your eyes narrow once more, pulling his jacket tighter, “lead the way, eddie.”

he knows you’re trying to taunt him, maybe rile him up a little and by god is it working. taking your hand once more as you start the walk to his apartment, anticipating coursing through his veins.

-

the elevator ride up to his floor is hell, fingers twitching to touch you. he’d do it too, if you were alone. plagued with one of his neighbours just trying to get home as you hang off of his arm.

eddie’s thankful his floor is first, losing the will to not just grab you right then and there.

your mouth falls open, eyes flitting around the apartment he definitely didn’t pay someone else to decorate for him.

“you live here?”

eddie didn’t grow up around money. he lived in a trailer for most of his life, cramped into the tiny home with his uncle in some dead end town until he finally found the nerve to move himself to chicago.

there were dreams of a music career that wilted away pretty quickly after he realised that there were a hundred and one other screwed up teens just like him, all wanting the same thing.

selling drugs wasn’t exactly his chosen path but he’d sold a little weed in high school and found he wasn’t awful at it and now here he was.

with more money than he knew what to do with and a reputation for being a hard ass.

he doesn’t entertain your amazement, sidling over to you with his hands already finding their place to your waist.

“the bedroom’s even better,” eddie smirks, feeling your fingers twist around his t-shirt.

“go ‘head,” half-smile on your pretty lips.

your body brushes against his as you trail behind, not wanting to waste another second. he hasn’t even kissed you yet, has no idea how addicting you’ll taste, the slight hint of vanilla in your smudged lipgloss.

expertly twisting you around, stumbling over just slightly before he catches you, planting his lips on yours, manoeuvring your entwined bodies around the darkened room.

he’s done this dance a hundred times, but something about you feels different. you’re mailable, trusting in his hands to guide you to the bed while your hands sit atop his shoulders.

falling back onto the mattress, tugging him down atop of your body, fingers clawing at his collar while his hands roam your body, grabbing at your hips and waist.

eddie haphazardly reaches for the lamp, disconnecting your lips for a brief moment before the orange hue fills the room.

you groan in response, sprawled out on the mattress underneath him.

“i wanna see you,” he remarks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you properly again. a full battle between teeth and tongues, barely catching against one another, lips wet with each other.

you sigh softly into his mouth when his hand travels beneath your dress, sliding between your aching thighs, panties already wet and begging to be torn off.

he doesn’t though, wanting to draw this out just a tiny bit longer, removing his fingers from your heat to toy with the hem of your dress.

“fuck,” you gasp, breaking away from his lips, “don’t be mean,” swollen bottom lip jutting out to make it all that much worse.

“okay,” eddie laughs quietly, “i’m done,” sticking to his word as your dress comes down in one rough tug, grunting as he does so.

he sits up on his knees, admiring the sight of your quivering body below. “worth it,” he remarks, tearing off his own t-shirt, and launching it across the room somewhere.

his jeans are next, shaking them off of his leg as they land on the floor with a soft thud.

your hand instinctively covers your chest, shying away from his hungry gaze.

“nuhuh,” eddie bites, pulling your arm away, pinning it underneath his as he comes back to your level, hovering just above. “don’t do that.”

you blink, pulling him closer with your free hand. the cat and mouse routine had been going on far too long, even for him. feeling your heat against his cock, almost painful to the touch as it strains his boxers.

“well if you hurried up..” you start, tilting your chin towards him with a tiny smirk.

eddie laughs loudly, yanking your panties down abruptly, “alright sweetheart, i hear ya,” returning his hand to between your thighs, spreading you open with his middle finger before sliding the digit in.

you huff in response, mouth falling open as that melodic tone he’s been waiting for falls from your lips, dancing around his ears.

your head falls back against the soft pillow, opening your legs further as he shifts fully in between, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“that better?” pumping his finger between your slick folds, your breath quivering with every move.

you nod quickly, readjusting your grip on his shoulder, taking a deep breath when his thumb finds your clit.

he can’t hold off any longer, pulling his fingers out and tugging his boxers down, cock springing up against his stomach.

“mhm,” he groans, teasing your sopping cunt with the tip of his already leaking cock, lapping up every last whine of appreciation you let slip.

eddie slides in, staggered breaths as he pauses, adjusting his position to allow his hand to find your hand, fingers intertwining while you huff into his ear.

“shit,” he utters, slowly thrusting his hips, gripping your hand tighter, pressing you into the mattress.

he wouldn’t have fucked around so much if he knew this is what you’d feel like.

your thighs squeeze around his waist, the soft skin encasing him. goading him on with your sweet breathless whines, repeating his name like gospel.

working his way to the hilt, debating why he could just sit there for a while with his cock buried deep inside of you or not.

your fingers twist around his curls, gently tugging on the messy mop atop of his head.

whimpering into the tiny shared space between your faces, your eyes fighting to stay open. cheeks warm and flushed, incoherent babbling trailing from your mouth.

“you.. you feel fuckin’ insane,” eddie growls, wishing he could swallow that familiar twist in his stomach, keep this going forever and ever.

the air is warm, filthy sounds of his skin against yours fill the room as you desperately move your hips against his. loosely connecting your lips in a hazy kiss, he can feel you tighten around him, whimpers strained and needy as you near your orgasm.

“ahh fuck,” eddie mewls, burying his head into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving lazy kisses in the crook. hoping he can hold out for just a minute more while you tremble around him. coming undone right beneath his body.

you hum into his ear, running your fingers along his scalp, pulling gently on his hair.

eddie can’t stop himself any longer, pulling his cock out of your cunt before he cums, letting his release cover your thigh instead.

your nails continue to trace through his hair while his mouths babbles a bunch of nonsensical bullshit into your neck, surely condemned by a life in hell for the blasphemous shit he was saying.

coaxing his head out of the comfort of your skin to gaze into his tired eyes, your heartbeats coinciding with one another.

instead of saying anything, you grin, laughing quietly to yourself. eddie thinks you’re crazy and yet, he’s sure he might’ve just fallen in love.

-

eddie feels like a creep, watching as you sleep, your leg twisted somewhere between his making him terrified to even think about moving.

he doesn’t want to startle you, in fact he doesn’t really want this to end. he knows that once you wake, he’ll be lucky to see you again.

maintaining relationships wasn’t exactly a skill he possessed.

you stir sometime later, feeling your way up his chest as you come around. maybe you’d think he was a freak, maybe you’d regret it and decide to file a restraining order or something.

“morning,” you croak, lips plump with sleep, eyes barely open as they peep at the other side of the bed.

“hi,” wanting to cringe at his complete lack of charm.

“you talk in your sleep,” you say pointedly, shadows of a smile on your lips.

“oh really? what was i saying?”

you shrug, “something about a fire,” scrunching your nose up. idyllic as you bask in the morning light, a real picture of beauty.

“a fire? that’s weird, i was dreaming about you,” undecided whether it were too much too soon.

you curl away from him, shying into the pillow when a bang at the door interrupts everything, damn near rattling his entire apartment.

you look to him again, confusion threading your brows together, “who’s that?” worry seeping through your tone.

“i don’t know,” well, he had a pretty good idea of who it probably was and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with that right now.

they bang again, eddie unfurling his arm from your waist, “i’ll be two minutes,” frowning to himself as he pulls his boxers on.

as expected, gareth and jeff stand outside, gormless as their eyes fall to his bare legs.

“woah,” gareth exclaims, eyes wide.

“what d’you two want?”

“you not gonna invite us in?” jeff presses, still marvelling at his legs.

“no.”

“why?” gareth peers into the apartment, “who’ve you got in there?”

“your mom,” eddie quips, “why are you here?”

the two idiots share a look, half-offended, half trying to figure out if eddie was telling the truth or not.

“well-“ they come closer, “we’ve got that shipment.. for the thing,” brows wiggling, “couple’a weeks and it’ll be in.”

this leads to eddie closing the door further round, in fear of you overhearing. he’s not sure how well received that’d be on your first morning together.

“shh,” he hisses, looking around the very empty corridor, “you couldn’t have told me this later?”

they shake their heads in unison, “murray said to let you know, no phones.. no paper trail.”

eddie searches both of their blank faces before nodding, “alright.. alright, you can go now.”

they oblige but not before jeff grabs his crotch, winking at eddie which makes him slightly uncomfortable and letting out an almost inaudible have fun before disappearing into the elevator.

the urge to knock their heads together had never been stronger, returning to his apartment to find you stood in the middle of his bedroom, staring at the pictures on his dresser.

“i used to be cute, right?” he knows exactly which one you’re looking at, startling at the sound of his voice.

you turn, still holding onto the frame, “is that your mom?”

“mhm,” he hums, taking the frame from your grasp, “she..” clearing his throat, “she died when i was younger,” tracing his thumb over the image of her crazy hair.

“oh,” you frown, looking at him with pitiful eyes, “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, hair falling out of the loose bun he’d thrown up, “don’t apologise,” placing the photo back in it’s rightful place, “she was sick,” turning to you with his half-moon eyes.

he wishes he hadn’t even said it, the look on your face was too woeful, especially after the large grin you’d had plastered on it just this morning.

eddie sniffs, jumping to action, “get dressed,” he practically orders, wanting nothing more than to change the subject, “we’re going out,” telling, rather than asking.

“where?”

he shrugs, opening the large closet which mostly consisted of plain black tees and his jeans.

“i don’t have any clothes.. or my toothbrush, give me an hour and-“

interrupted by a shirt flying over, just about catching it before it lands on the ground, “wear mine, there’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” eddie nods, sliding into his own clothes.

you stare dumbfounded at the cotton, before glancing back at him, “uh.. i don’t- what if people think..”

he turns, smile already peaking through, “if people think what? that we fucked? oh no,” riddled with sarcasm.

“you’re not funny,” you pout though you shimmy into the t-shirt, “i didn’t mean that i just..” trailing off into silence.

eddie’s eyes widen, something about seeing you in his shirt invigorated something within.

“don’t look at me like that,” shying away though there was really no need. he’d seen it all already.

“i can’t help it,” he remarks, standing wide-eyed.

your eyes roll in return, turning away to slip into his sweats though that makes everything worse. eddie instantly jumps to grab you, squeezing your arms against your sides, eliciting a high pitched squeal from you.

“maybe breakfast can wait,” growling into your ear, tripping over your legs as he barrels towards the bed.

-

eddie sighs, eyeing the seemingly stagnant clock on the dash. he knows you get off at three, toying with the idea of telling you he’s coming to get you or just turning up outside your building.

he figures he’s close enough that he won’t bother, shifting into drive. you’d only seen each other yesterday but he couldn’t get enough.

girls came and went in his life, never sticking around long enough for him to really get to know them. it felt different this time, he was itching to be with you, this constant need to be near you, with you. it scared him deep down, turning his stomach at the thought of someone actually meaning something to him.

he watches the door like a hawk, positioned outside so that you can’t possibly miss him.

it’s five after three by the time you emerge from the grand door, closely followed by who he assumes are your co-workers. eyes narrowing at the sight of the spindly guy following behind.

eddie clocks the exact moment you spot him, ducking your head as you break away from the group and slide into the passenger seat.

“what’re you doing here?” you flush, though your smile is evident, creeping onto his own face.

“i can’t come pick you up from work?”

you shrug, still coy as your co-workers dawdle, staring into the car with eager eyes.

“why’re you so shy all of a sudden? not even gonna kiss me?” eddie teases, feeling the eyes of your colleagues hot on his face.

“shut up,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

he takes this as a challenge, leaning over the centre console to press his forehead to yours, waiting for your approval before embarrassing you any further.

your lips lock onto his before he can think about it, deciding to turn the innocent kiss into what he can only describe as a sloppy, over exaggerated makeout session. something similar to his first attempts at kissing.

you pull back, groaning in disgust, averting your eyes from the nosy gaggle of colleagues that still stood gawping.

mission accomplished.

eddie grins before speeding away, not bothering to acknowledge them another time.

you want to be annoyed, eddie can tell. tutting in your seat as if you didn’t enjoy that just as much as he did.

“who was that? your boyfriend?” only half-joking.

there’s another sigh, “i wish,” as you mess around with the dials on the dash.

eddie would normally smack your hand away but for you, he couldn’t.

an absolute sucker for the way your fingers danced around the tortoise shell interior, making yourself comfortable in his car like you should.

-

“you’ve never been to brunch?” you fret, looking at him with pure amazement over the table.

“no,” eddie chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee, “why would i?”

“why wouldn’t you?” smiling wide.

there’s been a lot of firsts for eddie these past few weeks.

you’d dragged him for a walk around the park in front of his complex, perplexed that he’d never even bothered. he’d been into a florist for the first time, hand picking some overpriced bouquet just for you.

he shakes his head, shrugging. there wasn’t any time for brunch when you had to move kilos of cocaine for rich aristocrats.

“you don’t live,” you scoff, sipping on your 11am mimosa as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

it’s ridiculous how soft you make him feel. he’d do brunch in some gentrified neighbourhood every day if it meant you smiled at him like that.

everything about you is too sweet, your clothes, the perfume you doused yourself in, the lipstick stains you’d leave behind on shared cigarettes. even last week when you’d made him stop for some cat food for the tiny stray that hung around your garden. who does that?

“some of us have to work, sweetheart,” eddie teases, shuffling around on the far-too-fancy chair.

“i work,” you hit back, “only difference is that what i do, isn’t illegal,” whispering the last part of your sentence, smug as you take a drink.

he looks on in pure awe. the fact that you could speak to him like that and yet still end up his favourite person was a miracle in and of itself.

“d’you want me to pay for your fuckin’ brunch or not?”

“i can pay f’myself,” you huff.

“but i don’t want you to.”

your eyes glint, pursing your lips to the side, “i don’t want to either.”

-

eddie’s already trembling in the car, murray droning on about the importance of gloves next to him. this all seemed like a good idea a couple of weeks ago and now his stomach flipped with every turn.

that was before he had something to lose, before he met you.

maybe weeks of you loosening him up had ruined him. the soft life was a dream in comparison to this. the complete fear coursing through his veins was enough to make him never want to leave the serene calm of your arms ever again.

a couple of years ago he was just some kid selling weed to the losers that hung around the block and now he’s clutching a pistol, contemplating whether he’d survive if he just jumped out of the car.

murray wouldn’t let him. he’d find him, make him pay for being such a pussy.

eddie’s eyes fall shut, head lolling back against the seat, conjuring up images of you in his head. if he had to do it, he also had to make it out alive.

for you.

-

a ringing bellows through his head, fumbling with the keys as his fingers shake.

he couldn’t remember if you were at work tonight, hoping you wouldn’t have to see this. get pulled into his ridiculous life.

eddie stumbles through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom when your voice calls out from the kitchen.

“eds?”

choosing to ignore it, focussed on the churning in his stomach and the need to empty whatever was rumbling around in there.

it all comes out into the toilet, heaving and retching as you round the corner completely perplexed by whatever was going on.

he’s slumped on the cold floor, gasping for air when you speak, “eddie?” terror in your voice.

“what happened?”

eddie barely looks up, focused on not throwing up again. he can’t explain it, there’s no words to tell you what happened without incriminating himself.

your eyes fall to the red splatters on his shirt, the cuts that littered his knuckles and the purple hue that had started taking over his cheek.

any idiot could put two and two together.

he’s been cryptic about what he does for work, never saying too much but just enough for you to understand. he didn’t want to tell you, to have to drag you into all this. that wasn’t fair.

for a moment, he thinks you’re about to run out of the door and never look back. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.

instead, you take charge, stepping into the bathroom with your hands resting on your hips, “get up,” you order, tugging at his arm.

he doesn’t. still partially curled around the toilet bowl, confused about your attitude.

“i said get up,” barking again, holding onto his elbow with an iron clad grip.

eddie obliges this time around, shakily standing up. he feels like a child, waiting for you to tell him what to do, to make him feel normal again.

you pull him to the sink, running the warm water, scrubbing his hands with yours. the water runs a murky colour, red and brown alike.

“get under your nails,” you add, lathering the soap on his palms, laser focused on his hands rather than the sorry state that had overcome him.

he does as you ask, scrubbing under his nails. standing aloof when you turn the water off.

your hands find the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, “off,” nodding towards his jeans.

it’s a little unsettling that you know exactly what to do, but eddie’s not complaining. grateful for your presence, for your forward thinking. who knows what he would’ve done if you weren’t here. he thinks he probably would’ve handed himself straight into the cops.

you hold a bag open for him, gesturing for his clothes to go in. “we’ll.. we can get rid of them tomorrow,” eventually meeting his eyes again.

he nods, allowing you to guide him through to his bedroom. pliable, completely at your mercy. if you told him that jumping off of bridge would help, he’d do it.

you dump the bag of evidence on the floor before pulling out a fresh shirt and sweatpants, flinging them on the bed.

“get dressed.. i’ll get you some water,” before flouncing out of the room.

eddie hated himself for dragging you into his life like this. it was always supposed to be something separate, something isolated from your relationship.

he’s barely dressed by the time you return, feeling like a pitiful mess. if the look on your face were anything to go by, he looked like it too.

“eddie,” you begin, that same sad tone you’d had when he told you about his mom, “i don’t..” stepping closer, “need to know what happened- i don’t really want to know either but.. you can’t let it fuck you up,” looking at him earnestly, which honestly hurts more.

he nods, “i know,” because he did. “i’m sorry for-,” he sighs, “for getting you involved, i never wanted you to see this.”

you respond by throwing your arms around his waist, squishing your cheek against his chest, “don’t.. don’t start with that.”

his chin finds the top of your head, nestling into your hair, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

it’s a nice type of silence, the air heavy with unspoken words but he thinks that’s okay.

you understand anyway.

[zoofzoofxx]

—The art of eyecontact—

Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader

Summary ; Upon arriving in Barcelona with your group, Miyagi-Do, to participate in the prestigious Sekai Takai tournament, you encounter a tall and formidable opponent. Your initial meeting is less than ideal, leaving both of you with a poor first impression of each other. However, everything changes when you uncover a surprising secret about him. This discovery shifts your perspective entirely, prompting you to confront him. What begins as a tense interaction unexpectedly evolves into a deeper understanding, and the two of you gradually grow closer in ways neither of you anticipated.

Trigger warning ; Physical abuse, violence, emotional abuse.

Pt. 1

୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧

After arriving at the hotel, exhausted and looking as though I haven’t slept in weeks, I pick up the key to my room, which I’m sharing with Sam. I give her a quick nod to let her know I’ll head up to the room, and she simply nods back, already engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend, Miguel.

With my suitcase in one hand and my bag in the other, I put my AirPods back in and turn on my music before stepping into the elevator. The ride is quiet, and I find myself zoning out until the familiar ding signals that I’ve reached my floor.

Pulling the handle of my suitcase, I step out of the elevator, scrolling through my phone without bothering to look up. Before I know it, I collide with someone and fall to the ground, one of my AirPods tumbling out in the process. Startled, I look up, ready to apologize for not paying attention—but before I can say a word, he beats me to it.

‘Watch where you’re going,’ he says, rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance

‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly, standing up and grabbing my fallen AirPod.

He sighed, his gaze feeling as though it pierced directly into my soul. He appeared cold and tense. ‘Just don’t let it happen again,’ he said, not giving me a chance to respond before walking away.

I exhaled slowly, gathering my belongings and glancing at my hotel card to find my room number. As I looked around, I realized I had ended up right in front of my hotel room. With a soft sigh, I stepped inside, taking a moment to settle myself. I reminded myself that I still had two hours to prepare before we needed to leave for the city tour. The quiet of the room allowed me to relax for a brief moment, and I moved calmly to unpack and get ready, focusing on the next part of the day without letting the earlier encounter distract me.

—

As I stood in the bathroom, the cold water from the shower running over me, I couldn’t help but think about the guy from earlier. He was likely my opponent. He was tall, with striking blue eyes and brown hair. There was something about him—he seemed unbothered, almost arrogant, yet calm and tense all at once. The mix of qualities made him difficult to read.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door. It was probably Sam, letting me know she had arrived back at the hotel as well. I turned off the shower, quickly blow-drying my hair before slipping into a simple white long-sleeve shirt and grey Nike sweatpants.

Walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed my makeup kit and sat down, ready to get prepared for the evening. The calm of the moment allowed me to focus, shifting my attention away from the earlier encounter and onto the night ahead.

—

‘Team events will begin tomorrow,’ Sam remarked as she adjusted her outfit in the mirror. I sat quietly, scrolling through my phone, waiting for her to finish and let me know when she was ready to head out. After a few moments, she signaled that she was all set, and we made our way to the lobby to continue with our plans for the evening.

‘So… are you feeling a bit stressed?’ Sam asked, her tone casual as she glanced at me. ‘With the fact that Tory is now in Cobra Kai and you’re the captain?’

Tory had left right when she was about to win against Samantha, which led to me having to compete against Sam for the captain’s position. In the end, I came out on top.

‘No, I’m just worried about Tory, that’s all,’ I replied, stepping out of the elevator. As soon as I did, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me. It was the guy from earlier—the one I had bumped into. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I quickly looked away, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort wash over me.

I turned to Sam and told her about the encounter, and she glanced at him quickly before nudging me with her elbow, a playful smirk crossing her face.

‘Ow,’I exclaimed, flinching from the sudden nudge, and Sam responded by wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that silently reminded her she had a boyfriend. Sam simply raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning, and then walked off toward the bathroom. I waited outside, shaking my head.

—

The photographer announced that he wanted a group photo with just the captains. I stood next to Robby, both of us smiling for the camera. The photographer then said something about the guy in the back, urging him to smile as well. I glanced over, and there he was—smiling at the camera before his gaze shifted to meet mine. A sigh escaped me as I quickly looked away, a familiar nervous feeling creeping up once again.

—

The next day, I felt the weight of stress settling on my shoulders—today was the first day of the tournament, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanting to shake off my nerves, I left the hotel early to give myself a chance to warm up. As I made my way toward the locker rooms to drop off my things, a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and there he was—the mysterious guy from yesterday.

He was training with his sensei, who was urging him to move faster. The guy struggled to keep up, failing repeatedly, much to his sensei’s frustration. Unexpectedly, the sensei struck him multiple times, demanding he try again. The guy made another attempt, but once more, he failed and took a few more hits. As he turned to face me, our eyes locked for a brief moment.

I quickly looked away, eager to leave without drawing attention. I hurried into the locker rooms, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. The encounter left me unsettled, and I stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened. I didn’t know how to feel about the situation.

—

The first competition ended in a swift, crushing loss. As I left the court, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. I kept replaying the match in my mind, second-guessing every decision and wondering if I had let my team down. It felt like the entire tournament might slip away because of me. Despite my best efforts to stay calm, the guilt and stress gnawed at me.

I was the first to retreat to the locker room, hoping to find some solace and a bottle of water to clear my head. But as I opened the storage, I saw that all the bottles were empty. I sighed, trying to steady the nervous energy bubbling under the surface. Deciding to head to the canteen, I reminded myself that there were still two hours before the next event. That gave me time to regroup and pull myself together—or so I hoped.

As I entered the canteen, my eyes landed almost immediately on him. He stood near the fridge, tall and poised as ever, with his hair styled perfectly, as if he hadn’t just come from the chaos of competition. My stomach tightened, and my heart began to race, though I desperately willed it to stop. Of all people to see right now, it had to be him. I didn’t want to face him—especially not now, when I felt like a failure. My shoulders tensed as I resolved to stick to my plan: grab a bottle, stay invisible, and leave as quickly as possible.

I moved swiftly to the fridge, avoiding eye contact and keeping my head down. My thoughts were a swirl of self-consciousness and unease. Did he notice me? Was he going to say anything about the match? Every moment I spent near him felt like an eternity, but, to my relief, I managed to grab the water and make it to the line without incident.

As I stood waiting my turn to pay, I tried to focus on anything but the awkwardness still lingering from the match. My hands were fidgety, and I shifted my weight slightly, anxious to get out of there. Then, as if the universe had decided I needed one more challenge, my opponent from the earlier competition lined up behind me. I could feel his presence without even turning around— it was palpable, a stark and unwelcome reminder of the loss I was already struggling to push from my mind.

When it was finally my turn to pay, I reached into my pocket and froze. My wallet wasn’t there. A cold wave of panic swept over me as I realized I’d left it in my bag back in the locker room. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I quickly turned to the cashier and asked if she could give me a moment to retrieve it. Her response was curt and final: the line was too long, and she couldn’t wait.

Humiliated, I had no choice but to leave the canteen empty-handed. The sting of rejection added another layer to my already fragile mood. I stepped outside into the crisp air, taking slow, deliberate breaths in an effort to calm myself. I stretched, more out of habit than necessity, and tried to regain a sense of control.

Even as the fresh air began to soothe my nerves, the doubt lingered. It felt like everything was spiraling, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was all my fault. Still, I reminded myself that there was time to turn things around. The tournament wasn’t over yet, and I couldn’t let this moment define the rest of the day. Though the insecurity remained, I resolved to keep pushing forward, however shaky my confidence felt.

—

After returning to the locker room, I sat down quietly next to my bag, letting the silence of the space settle around me. As I unzipped the bag, my eyes were drawn to two ice-cold water bottles lying inside, their surfaces glistening faintly. I paused, blinking at them in mild confusion, trying to piece together how I hadn’t noticed them earlier. I looked up, my thoughts momentarily scattered, unsure whether to feel relieved, amused, or simply puzzled by the discovery.

‘Was anyone here?’ I asked Demetri, holding up the bottles of water and glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. My voice was calm, but my mind raced slightly, trying to make sense of their sudden appearance.

‘Yeah, the girl from Iron Dragons, Zara, I think,’ Demetri explained quickly. ‘She said you needed some water but forgot your wallet, so she brought these for you.’

The Iron Dragons—that was the team the tall guy was from. From what I knew, Zara was their captain. I hadn’t expected her to do something like this, but I couldn’t help feeling a slight wave of gratitude. I decided I would thank her later, once the next competition was over. For now, I just needed to focus on what was ahead.

I grabbed the water bottle, a quiet wave of gratitude passing through me. It was a small gesture, but it made a difference in that moment. Taking a deep breath, I decided to search for my teammates and gather them together. I needed to rally them, give them a motivational speech, even though, deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the loss in the first competition was mostly my fault. Still, I knew I had to set that aside and focus on getting everyone back on track for the next round.

—

It was time for the next event, and the pressure was mounting. There were different categories, but we lost almost all of them. The only victories came from the 2vs1 match, where Miguel secured a win, and the Bojutsu (staff technique/ art of stick fighting), where I managed to come out on top.

The following day brought a small victory—we won once, but it came with its own challenges. Our task was to force the opponent to fall from the podium, and only Miguel managed to win and stay on it. The weight of it all hit harder when I saw our team nearly at the bottom of the standings. The stress was becoming overwhelming; we were running out of time, and the gap between us and the top seemed to grow wider with each passing moment.

The next event was the elimination phase of Sakai Taikai, and as the moment drew closer, an overwhelming sense of anxiety crept back into my mind. I couldn’t shake the thought that I might lose because of my own small mistakes, and it was a nagging feeling that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.

It was a 2v2 on a high platform, a challenging setup that added to the pressure. The Iron Dragons went first with their demonstration. The tall guy—who I knew to be an exceptional competitor—was flawless. He moved with such grace and precision that he wasn’t even touched once by his opponent. I couldn’t help but watch in awe as he maneuvered effortlessly across the platform, his every movement exuding confidence and skill. Before I could think much more about it, I overheard Demetri and Hawk talking nearby. Their conversation snapped me out of my thoughts as they referred to the tall guy as a “monster” because of his skill. The words hit me differently than I expected—guilt crept in. It didn’t feel right to hear them speak about him behind his back like that, especially when he was right there, demonstrating his abilities so effortlessly. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if they were undermining his talent. I couldn’t let it slide.

‘Don’t call him a monster,’ I exclaimed, my voice firm. ‘You don’t know him or what he deals with.’

They exchanged glances before looking at me, their expressions softening. I could see the apology in their eyes, and for a moment, the tension in the air seemed to ease. They nodded slightly, acknowledging what I had said, and I felt a small sense of relief. It wasn’t right to judge someone so quickly, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen.

They announced that it was our turn. Roby and I were the first to step onto the podium to fight. As I climbed the stairs, the height of the platform hit me all at once, and my knees felt like they might give way, soft as cotton. Despite the flutter of nerves, I focused on doing my best, trying to shake off the unease.

Then, suddenly, our eyes met—the tall guy again. For a brief moment, I froze, distracted by the connection. My opponent saw the opening and almost pushed me off the platform. Just as I was about to lose my footing, Roby took a risk and managed to eliminate two opponents at once. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I heard the rush of feet as the other competitors came charging in, with Sam joining me on the platform.

Time passed, and it all came down to the final two opponents. Now, it was Miguel’s turn to step in and help me finish it. As we worked together to eliminate them, I felt a small surge of pride. I hadn’t fallen once, and that, in itself, was enough to bring a little bit of happiness in the midst of the chaos.

—

Everyone in our group was cheering after the competition. We were relieved and excited that we hadn’t been eliminated and that we still had a chance to continue in Sakai Taikai. But amidst the celebration, Miguel was nowhere to be found.

Just as Robby and I were catching our breath, we were called to the side by our Senseis. Their faces were serious, and I could feel the shift in the air as they delivered the bad news. One of our Senseis, along with Miguel, had to leave immediately. Miguel’s mother had been hospitalized, and there were complications with her pregnancy.

The weight of the situation hit me hard. Not only were we down one Sensei, but we were also losing a teammate. I couldn’t help but feel a deep concern for Miguel’s mother. I hoped she would pull through and that everything would turn out okay. It was hard to focus on anything else when I knew Miguel’s family needed him, and I hoped she’d recover quickly.

—

While everyone else was out partying at some random club in Barcelona, I found myself binge-watching a film series. After a while, I decided I needed a change of pace and thought a walk along the beach might clear my mind. I threw on a white hoodie and some black leggings, grabbed a bottle of water for the walk, and headed out. The evening air was cool, and I was ready for a little solitude by the ocean.

—

I walked for a moment, my thoughts still lingering on the events of the day, until I found myself at the beach. As I looked around, my eyes landed on someone standing nearby, shirtless. I blinked, and as I drew closer, I realized it was the tall guy from earlier.

The brown-haired boy was diligently practicing a series of movements, each one executed with remarkable precision and fluidity. Despite my exhaustion and the haze clouding my thoughts, I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away. There was something captivating about the way he moved, as though every motion was deliberate and purposeful. My fatigue seemed to fade into the background as I became mesmerized by his focus and technique. It was almost as if everything around me disappeared, and I was entirely absorbed in watching him. I couldn’t help but wonder about the discipline and dedication that went into mastering such skills, but at the same time, I felt too drained to even process the thoughts fully. But then, my attention shifted when I noticed some red marks on his back. They stood out against his skin, drawing my gaze away from his fluid motions, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten there.

Suddenly, he executed a move that caused him to turn and face me directly. His expression shifted from focus to surprise, and for a moment, he froze, caught off guard by my presence. It was as if the sudden shift in direction had momentarily thrown him off balance, and we stood there in an awkward silence, both taken aback by the unexpected encounter.

‘Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I exclaimed, taking a step closer. As I moved, the cold wind hit me, sending a shiver down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill, but my attention remained on him, feeling the awkwardness between us linger in the air.

‘Uhm… I’m Y/n, by the way,’ I said, tilting my head to the side, feeling a bit shy and insecure. My voice was soft, unsure of how to break the silence. I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there, hoping my introduction might ease the tension, even though my nerves made it hard to feel at ease.

‘Axel,’ he said, his voice a little stiff as he shifted slightly, looking tense and uncomfortable. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation either, and his unease mirrored my own. The air between us felt a little thick, and I found myself wishing I could think of something to say to make it less awkward.

‘That’s a pretty cool kata. What’s it called?’ I asked softly, hoping to break the awkward silence. My voice was tentative, but I genuinely wanted to know. It felt like the right way to ease the tension between us, even if I was still a little unsure of myself.

‘I’m not supposed to talk to the opponents,’ he exclaimed, his tone a bit stubborn. There was a hint of defensiveness in his words, as if he was trying to set a boundary, but it only added to the awkwardness. I could tell he was trying to stick to some kind of rule, and I immediately felt a bit embarrassed for having spoken up.

‘We’re not on the mat,’ I said with a small smile, feeling the blush creep up my nose. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the embarrassment, or my own shyness causing the heat to rise in my cheeks, but I tried to brush it off. The awkwardness was still there, but I hoped my attempt at humor might ease the tension just a bit.

‘It’s pretty late for training,’ I exclaimed, sighing as I tried to warm up my hands by rubbing them together. The cold was starting to get to me, and I couldn’t help but feel the discomfort in my fingers. I glanced at Axel, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a casual comment, but the tension still lingered between us.

‘Always time for training,’ he said, his tone firm and matter-of-fact. His words carried a quiet determination, and for a moment, I felt like I was glimpsing a side of him that was completely focused, almost unshakable.

After he said that, he reached down to grab his shirt from the sand. As he moved, the red marks on his back became more visible, standing out sharply against his skin. I couldn’t help but notice them, the vividness of the marks raising questions in my mind.

‘Whoa, whoa… what happened to your back?’ I asked cautiously as he pulled his shirt over his head, my voice filled with concern as I took a few small steps forward. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was overstepping, but the marks were too striking to ignore. My curiosity and worry outweighed my hesitation.

‘Uh, from the bo staff competition,’ he answered quickly, his tone dismissive as he avoided meeting my concerned gaze. It was clear he didn’t want to dwell on it, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the marks told a different story.

‘Nobody’s been able to land a point on you yet,’ I said, my tone light but observant. His reaction was immediate—he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze even more than before. The tension in his demeanor made me pause, debating whether or not to bring up what I had seen earlier during his training with his sensei. The memory of those moments weighed on my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure if addressing it would make things better or worse.

‘I saw what happened with your sensei,’ I said softly, breaking the silence. My tone was careful, not wanting to sound intrusive, but I felt the need to acknowledge what I had witnessed.

‘My sensei wants me to be the best. It’s because of him I never lose.’ he said coldly, his sharp tone cutting through the air as he looked directly at me. His gaze was steady, but there was an edge to it, as though he was daring me to challenge his words.

‘There are other ways of teaching,’ I said, my voice laced with concern. I couldn’t help but feel worried, sensing that his sensei’s approach might be pushing him too hard. I wanted to say more, but I wasn’t sure if I should press further.

‘I mean, I got to admit, your dojo’s pretty great,’ I exclaimed, offering him a friendly smile. I hoped my words would ease the tension, acknowledging his dedication while keeping the conversation light. Despite my concern, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.

‘Thank you,’ Axel said, his tone softer, looking a little more at ease now. ‘You’re pretty… Your… Your dojo’s pretty good too.’ He added quickly, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks, though I suspected it might have been as much from the cold as from his sudden shyness. His words caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the tension ease between us.

‘We try,’ I said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him. I could see the tension easing slightly, and I wanted to keep things light. The moment felt less awkward, and I was relieved for it.

‘Mind if I join?’ Axel asked, and the question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice that made me pause for a moment.

‘You want to switch dojo’s?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows in shock. The idea hadn’t crossed my mind, and I was curious about why he’d bring it up. It seemed like a bold move, especially given how dedicated he was to his current dojo.

‘Your walk. I was going back to hotel.’ he said, pointing towards the route I was supposed to take. It took me a moment to process what he meant, but then I realized he was offering to join me on the walk back, which felt unexpected but kind.

‘Oh, yeah,’ I laughed awkwardly, caught off guard by the offer. ‘Yeah, sure,’ I added quickly, hoping to reassure him. As we started walking, I couldn’t help but notice the height difference between us—he towered over me, and I felt a little small in comparison, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just another thing that made the moment feel a little surreal.

As we walked along the beach, the soothing sound of the waves crashing in the background, our conversation turned to travel. We began talking about the countries we had visited, sharing stories of our experiences in different places. The gentle breeze and the calming rhythm of the ocean made the conversation feel easy and natural, and for the first time that night, I felt completely at ease. From what he mentioned, it seemed like he had traveled to every country in Europe. He shared details about different cities and cultures he’d encountered, his experiences coming across as both vast and fascinating. It made me realize just how much he had seen and done, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at his travels. He also asked me a few questions, curious about my thoughts on Barcelona. He wanted to know what I thought of the city, what I hoped to visit, and what I wanted to do while I was here. His questions felt genuine, and I found myself sharing more than I had planned, enjoying the flow of our conversation. It was nice to talk about my plans without feeling rushed or pressured.

We laughed and enjoyed the moment, the conversation flowing easily, until one of our opponents from Tory’s team approached us with a few of his friends. The sudden interruption broke the easy atmosphere, and I could feel a shift in the air as they came closer.

‘How cute!’ Kwon exclaimed, tilting his head in sarcastic awe. His tone was playful yet teasing, as if he was trying to get a reaction from us. It was clear he wasn’t just making a casual comment, but rather trying to stir things up a bit

‘Little rival team play time, huh?’ he said with a grin, his words slurring slightly. It was clear he was definitely not sober, and his carefree smile made the situation feel a bit awkward. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to provoke something.

‘Just ignore them,’ I said with a sigh, glancing at Axel. I could feel the tension creeping in, but I didn’t want to let it ruin the moment. I hoped Axel would let it slide too, as it was clear Kwon’s words were meant more to tease than to start a real confrontation. I tried to walk past them, but they shifted right in front of me, giving me a big, smug smile. It was like they were blocking my path on purpose, clearly enjoying the chance to get under my skin.

‘Say the magic words,’ Kwon laughed, raising his eyebrows playfully. His grin widened, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.

‘Move aside,’ I said, my tone laced with clear annoyance. I wasn’t in the mood for their games, and I made sure they knew it as I stood my ground.

‘Wrong,’ he said sternly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more confrontational. The tone in his voice made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily.

‘Just leave us alone,” I sighed, frustration creeping into my voice. I was done with their teasing and just wanted to move on, hoping they’d finally get the hint. Kwon kneeled to my height and smiled, his expression mocking yet somehow amused. It was as if he thought the whole situation was a game, and I was the one missing the joke.

‘Only if you say please,’ he laughed, getting uncomfortably close, his face now just inches from mine. The mocking tone in his voice made my irritation grow, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him get under my skin.

That was the final straw for Axel. His expression darkened as his fist clenched tightly at his side. One of Kwon’s friends caught the movement and took it as a signal to strike, delivering a swift kick to Axel’s stomach. To my surprise, Axel barely even flinched, standing firm as if the attack hadn’t phased him.

At the same moment, the other friend of Kwon lunged toward me. Axel reacted immediately, dealing with his opponent effortlessly, his precision and speed almost intimidating. Inspired by his confidence, I focused on my attacker, countering their moves and managing to take them down just as effectively. The entire exchange was over in moments, leaving Kwon’s friends clearly outmatched.

Axel and I turned our attention to Kwon, who stood his ground with an overly confident smirk. ‘Come on, I’ll take you both. Let’s go,’ he taunted, his bravado thick in the air. But before he could make a move, one of his friends grabbed his arm and urged him to stop.

‘Let’s get out of here. The cops are coming,’ his friend said, the urgency in his voice cutting through Kwon’s bravado.

Sure enough, the faint wail of police sirens echoed in the distance. Without hesitation, Axel and I exchanged a quick glance and bolted in the opposite direction, heading back toward the beach.

By the time we stopped, both of us were out of breath, the cool ocean breeze offering some relief as we tried to collect ourselves. The tension of the moment slowly gave way to exhaustion, the sounds of the waves a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just escaped.

‘Cobra Kai… those assholes,’ I muttered between breaths, my frustration evident as I leaned forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but the tension was beginning to ebb, replaced by a simmering annoyance at what had just unfolded.

‘Nice round kick,’ he said, his tone genuine as his eyes stayed fixed on me. There was a flicker of admiration in his gaze, and it caught me off guard for a moment. I straightened up, still trying to steady my breath, feeling a mix of pride and self-consciousness under his watchful look.

‘Nice counterstrike,’ I said between breaths, managing a small smile.

Axel returned the gesture with a genuine smile of his own, his gaze never wavering from mine. There was something steady and unwavering about the way he looked at me, and it made me feel oddly at ease despite everything that had just happened.

For a moment, the only sounds between us were the crashing waves in the distance and our labored breaths as we worked to steady ourselves. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind a strange sense of calm in the cool night air.

I exhaled deeply, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. My eyes scanned the area cautiously, the sound of the waves in the background grounding me. After another moment, I sighed again and checked once more before turning to Axel.

‘I think the coast is clear,’ I said softly, breaking the silence.

When I looked at him, I realized he was still watching me, his expression unreadable but intent. There was something in his gaze—an almost admiring quality—that made my heart skip for a moment. I quickly glanced away, unsure of how to react to the unexpected attention.

I took a quick glance at Axel, my heart racing when I saw he was still looking at me. Our eyes locked, and something shifted in the air between us. Feeling the pull, I couldn’t look away and decided to meet his gaze.

He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes, the height difference suddenly feeling more pronounced. He gently cupped my cheek with one hand, his touch warm and reassuring. With the other, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. His expression softened, his eyes flickering between mine and my lips.

The closeness was intoxicating, and before I knew it, he began to lean in, his face inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I was ready to give in. But then, a sudden rush of doubt and hesitation swept over me.

‘Woah, no, no…’ I stammered, taking a few quick steps back. The air between us suddenly felt thick with tension, and I could feel the familiar rush of awkwardness creeping back, just like it had at the beginning of our conversation.

I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the ground, unsure of what to do next. The moment that had felt so intense just moments ago now seemed like a mistake. Why had I pulled away? I had no idea, but the uncertainty left me with a knot in my stomach. Axel didn’t say anything right away, and for a second, the silence stretched between us like an unspoken question hanging in the air.

I tried to steady my breathing, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made things even more awkward.

‘I-I’m sorry… I thought-‘ Axel started, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right thing to say.

He seemed just as uncertain as I was, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and it made me feel even more guilty for pulling away.

I bit my lip, unsure of how to break the silence. The tension hung thick between us, but neither of us seemed to know how to ease it. It felt like everything had shifted in an instant, and now I wasn’t sure how to fix it without making it worse.

‘It’s already after curfew. We should get going,’ His voice was cold, the warmth from earlier now completely gone.

The shift was immediate. The tension between us that had been so palpable moments before evaporated, but not in a way that made me feel better. Instead, it felt like we had just snapped back to some kind of awkward normalcy—where he was distant and aloof again, and I was left fumbling for the right words.

I couldn’t tell if he was still hurt by my reaction or if he was simply shutting himself off, but either way, the walls between us were up once more, and I wasn’t sure how to bring them down.

—

The walk to the hotel was silent—so silent it felt suffocating. Each step felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. The usual ease between us was gone, replaced by an awkward distance I couldn’t seem to close.

I stopped abruptly, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. Axel walked a few steps further before halting, turning back to look at me, his expression confused.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been since… well, since everything had changed.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. But I could tell that whatever had just happened between us—whatever I had done—had shifted something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt like the space between us had grown wider than it had ever been before.

I grabbed my phone and glanced at the clock—it was 5 p.m. In an hour, the sunrise would begin. A sudden urge to be by the ocean took over me, the need for some space, for clarity. I sighed quietly to myself and turned to Axel.

‘I’m going back to the beach,’ I said softly. ‘You can head back to the hotel. Goodnight.’

I gave him a small wave and started walking away, my footsteps steady, but my mind still racing.

But then I heard them—footsteps. I stopped, turned, and looked back. It was Axel, walking a few paces behind me. We locked eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded. His gaze was soft, unreadable, but it felt like there was so much unsaid in the space between us. He didn’t say anything, not a single word, but his presence spoke louder than anything could.

I stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Neither of us moved, but neither of us looked away either. The silence lingered, heavy and familiar.

I smiled softly, then turned back and began walking toward the beach. By the time I arrived, the air was colder than I expected, A crisp chill in the air made me pull my hoodie tighter around me, trying to keep the cold at bay. I sat down, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to find warmth in the stillness of the night.

Without a word, Axel appeared beside me. He gently draped his jacket over my shoulders, the warmth of it wrapping around me, offering more comfort than I realized I needed. I looked up, my breath catching for a second as I met his gaze, but he was already taking a few steps back, distancing himself.

He sat down a bit further away, his eyes fixed on the beach and the waves rolling in under the dark sky. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on everything, but I found my attention drifting back to Axel. I couldn’t help it. His quiet demeanor, the way he observed the world around him—it was like he was in tune with everything. For a moment, I caught myself admiring him, his profile soft in the moonlight, his posture relaxed yet strong.

The silence between us felt comfortable, not awkward. It was as though, in this moment, there was no need for words. We just existed together, the sound of the waves, the chill in the air, and the quiet understanding between us.

The sun was about to rise any minute, and I glanced over at Axel, who looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. I felt guilty for dragging him out here. Standing up, I walked over to him and handed his jacket back, noticing how cold it was and how he only had a sleeveless shirt on. Without saying anything, I sat next to him, gently placing his head on my shoulder, offering him the warmth I could.

I heard Axel sigh softly, and when I looked over at him, he seemed lost in thought. My gaze drifted to the waves, and just then, the sun began to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The sight made me straighten my posture, while Axel stretched and yawned, still staring at the horizon in silence. I couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful moment, before standing up and grabbing my phone to capture a photo of the sunrise.

I gently patted Axel’s head, feeling his messy hair beneath my hand. He looked so relaxed, yet on the verge of falling asleep. He looked up at me, and I gave him a soft smile, an unfamiliar flutter starting in my stomach. He slowly stood up, taking a few steps back before raising his phone. I turned to look at him, and to my surprise, he was taking a photo of me with the sunrise behind me. I couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling a faint blush creeping up my nose as I realized how much I enjoyed this moment.

As Axel put his phone down, I walked over to him, unable to resist the urge to give him a big hug. There were no words exchanged, just the sound of silence, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore, and the warmth of the moment. As we pulled apart, the sunlight hit Axel’s face, casting a golden glow. He squinted slightly from the brightness, but the way the light accentuated his features made him even more captivating.

Without thinking, I reached out, cupping his cheek gently. He looked down at me with a soft, almost questioning gaze, and I couldn’t quite place the feeling swirling in my chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the long day, the weight of everything that had happened since the Sekai Taikai, or maybe it was just the way Axel made me feel like I was losing control of my thoughts.

I leaned in, my hands cradling his face, giving him one last, lingering look. His breath caught slightly, and for a moment, I hesitated, unsure of what was driving me. But the pull between us was undeniable. Without thinking further, I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his.

The moment our lips met, everything seemed to pause. It wasn’t forceful or rushed, but rather soft, tentative—like we were both unsure yet certain at the same time. The warmth from his skin, the faint scent of the ocean mixed with the remnants of his cologne, surrounded me. I felt the gentle press of his lips against mine, a quiet reassurance, as though he was waiting for me to pull away if I needed to.

I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him just slightly, feeling the way his hand hesitated at my waist before it gently rested there, steadying both of us. His lips moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. There was a vulnerability in it, an unspoken question, and it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.

Time seemed to stretch, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else became a blur. It was just the two of us, caught in this quiet, intimate exchange that somehow spoke louder than any words could.

When we finally pulled apart, my head rested on his chest, breathless. My heart was pounding, my body still humming from the kiss. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes soft with something that felt like understanding—maybe even a little awe. Neither of us said anything, but in the silence, there was a shared certainty. It had happened.

—

Walking back to the hotel was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was that kind of silence where everything felt right, where words weren’t needed to fill the space. We just enjoyed each other’s company, the soft rhythm of our footsteps in sync.

When we reached my hotel room, I turned to face him, my hands resting gently on his shoulders. Before either of us could say anything, he leaned in, and we kissed again. This time, it was different. It was deeper, more intense, as if we were trying to memorize every sensation in case it was the last time. The kiss held a sense of urgency, an unspoken longing. Even though we both knew we’d see each other again that evening, in that moment, it felt like saying goodbye.

We pulled back reluctantly, but neither of us wanted to let go. Axel gave me a quick, soft kiss on the lips before stepping into the elevator. As the door began to close, I waved at him, my cheeks flushed with a mix of warmth and the excitement of the moment.

The elevator door closed with a soft ding, and I turned to face my room, my heart still racing. I knocked on the door, hoping Sam would be inside, but there was no response. No sign of life from the other side. Sighing, I leaned against the door, feeling a little deflated but still smiling, the feeling of Axel’s kiss lingering on my lips.

—

I leaned against the wall for a few minutes, the silence of the hallway around me, letting my mind replay the moments with Axel. Then, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, surprised to see a notification: Axel had followed me on Instagram.

A smile tugged at my lips as I quickly tapped the follow button to return the gesture. Right after, I saw the message pop up from him. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it.

‘Have a nice sleep. Thank you for today,’

I sighed, smiling to myself as I replayed the events of the night in my head. The warmth from our kiss still lingered, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness that was hard to shake. But then, suddenly, a thought hit me—I didn’t have a room to go to.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized that Sam was probably still out and I hadn’t made any arrangements for the night. I glanced at the empty hallway, feeling a little lost. The idea of wandering around the hotel wasn’t exactly appealing

‘Axel, could you do me a favor?’ I typed, my fingers pausing before I hit send.

‘Of course, what is it?’ The text said and I sighed.

‘I seem to have forgotten my room key, and I don’t really want to wake up Sam. Could you help me out and let me crash in your room for the night? Just until morning,’ I texted, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.

I smiled, feeling a mix of relief and excitement as I read his message. Room 415. I quickly grabbed my things and made my way to the elevator. My heart raced a little faster than usual, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety—it was more of an anticipation.

As I stood waiting for the elevator doors to open, my phone buzzed again. Another notification from Axel.

‘Don’t worry, the bed’s big enough. You can relax.’

I chuckled softly to myself, feeling even more at ease. With a quick breath, I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed behind me. It wasn’t much longer before I reached his floor.

I walked down the hallway, my footsteps almost echoing in the quiet of the night. When I arrived at his door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.

The door opened almost immediately, and Axel stood there with a relaxed smile on his face, clearly having been waiting for me.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, stepping aside to let me in. ‘Make yourself at home.’

I stepped inside, feeling a warm sense of comfort wash over me. The quiet intimacy of the room felt calming, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace.

I looked at Axel, taking in his casual yet somehow perfect appearance: a black hoodie, a white shirt underneath, and grey sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly handsome. There was a comfort in the way he stood, relaxed but confident.

I walked up to him, my heart pounding a little faster, the distance between us growing smaller with each step. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently cupped his face before leaning in and kissing him softly. The kiss was light at first, tentative, but as I started to pull away, he caught me by the waist, pulling me closer. His lips met mine again, this time with more urgency, more passion. The kiss deepened, our connection intensifying, as if neither of us wanted to let go of this moment.

My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his hoodie, while his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. The room around us faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his touch made my heart race. It was a kiss that said more than words could, a kiss that made everything else feel insignificant.

After some time, we reluctantly pulled away, the lingering warmth of the kiss still filling the air. I yawned, suddenly feeling how exhausted I was, the weight of the day catching up to me. Axel, noticing, gently handed me some clothes, and I smiled gratefully at him before heading into the bathroom.

The shower was quick but refreshing, the hot water washing away the tension and fatigue. I quickly braided my hair, feeling a little more awake as I stepped out of the bathroom. When I emerged, I saw Axel lying on the mattress on the floor, his eyes closed, clearly trying to get some rest. His posture was relaxed, and he seemed so at ease in the room, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.

I paused for a moment, watching him. There was something so comforting about how he looked there, in his own little world, yet still so present with me. With a small sigh, I walked over to the edge of the mattress, sitting down beside him. He opened one eye, glancing up at me before offering a sleepy smile.

‘Getting some sleep now?’ I asked softly, trying not to disturb his calm.

‘Yeah, just waiting for you,’ he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness. ‘But, I’m not going to last long.’

I smile. ‘Why are you on the floor?’ I ask softly, gently caressing his cheek. ‘You can sleep with me if you’d like.’

Axel hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked up at me. The offer hung in the air between us, quiet but filled with unspoken understanding. He blinked slowly, clearly processing my words.

‘I didn’t want to make things awkward,’ he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. ‘I figured you’d prefer your space.’

I smiled, brushing my thumb across his cheek gently. ‘It’s not awkward,’ I reassured him. ‘You’re always welcome to be close. Don’t worry about it.’

He looked at me for a second longer before giving a small, almost shy smile. ‘Thanks.’

Without another word, he shifted, moving toward the bed, his body still tense but clearly relieved. He laid down next to me, a little awkwardly at first, but then his body relaxed as he settled in.

I pulled the blanket over both of us, my hand finding his, squeezing it gently. The warmth between us was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt right. We both closed our eyes, the silence between us now peaceful and easy, as we drifted off to sleep together.

A/N; hiii everyone, just finished watching cobra kai part 2 and I LOVE ITTT! I have such a MASSIVE crush on Axel :p I wanted to apologise for my spelling mistakes 😓 have a nice day further! love yourself and drink a lots of water :)

love ya

xoxo Z.S.

[ghstyles]

Car wash | H.S

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The Sigma boys are running a car wash fundraiser.

Main Masterlist

Windows Facing Masterlist

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The sun beats down mercilessly on the Saturday afternoon, turning the frat row into a humid playground of college chaos. Outside the Sigma house, shirtless boys with washcloths and soap buckets have taken over the street, their "CAR WASH $10" sign tilting precariously against a tree. Music blasts from massive speakers someone has dragged outside, bass thumping so hard it makes the windows of surrounding buildings vibrate.

Y/N sits cross-legged on her bed, textbooks spread around her, golden-brown hair piled in a messy bun atop her head. She's trying—and failing—to focus on her psychology reading. The music alone is distracting enough, but it's the occasional bursts of laughter and shouting that keep pulling her attention to the window.

She sighs, pushing her reading glasses up her nose, when a sudden splash hits her window, making her jump. Water trickles down the glass, distorting her view of the chaos below.

"What the—" she mutters, moving to the window just as another splash hits, this time partially coming through the small opening at the bottom, sprinkling her shirt with water droplets. "Are you kidding me?"

Below, Harry Styles stands with a garden hose in hand, water glistening on his bare torso, dark jeans soaked and clinging to his thighs. His hair is pushed back, curls damp and wild, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

"Oi! Sleeping Beauty! Your tower's looking a bit dirty!" he calls up, his British accent carrying clearly over the music. "Thought I'd help with the cleaning!"

Y/N pushes the window fully open, leaning out with narrowed eyes. "Some of us are trying to study, Styles! Not everyone has the luxury of coasting through college on daddy's money and good hair!"

Harry clutches his chest dramatically. "She thinks my hair is good! Did you hear that, lads?" he calls to his friends, who whoop in response. "Come down and join us! We're raising money for..." he turns to Niall, who's soaping up a Honda nearby.

"Children's hospital!" Niall shouts.

"Mental health awareness!" Louis corrects from somewhere.

"Our spring break trip to Cancun!" Zayn adds honestly, earning a splash from Harry.

Harry turns back to Y/N with a grin. "Very worthy causes, as you can see. Your psychology expertise could be valuable!"

"I'm studying!" she calls down, trying not to notice how his wet jeans cling to every muscle.

"Studying what? How to be boring on a perfect Saturday?" Harry aims the hose again, this time getting a direct hit through the window, spraying her shirt and face.

"STYLES!" she shrieks, slamming the window shut as he doubles over laughing below.

Y/N storms away from the window, grabbing a towel to dry her face and now partially soaked white t-shirt. She's muttering curses when a knock sounds at her door. Three quick, rhythmic taps she recognizes immediately.

She ignores it. The knocking continues, more insistent.

"Y/N! I know you're in there! I can hear you plotting my murder!" Harry's voice calls through the door.

With an exasperated sigh, she throws the towel down and marches to the door, yanking it open to find Harry leaning against the frame, still shirtless, water droplets trailing down his chest and disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. His hair is pushed back, curls starting to dry in the ridiculous way that somehow looks perfectly styled.

"What. Do. You. Want." she enunciates each word through gritted teeth.

Harry's eyes immediately drop to her wet shirt, which is now slightly transparent, clinging to her curves. His smirk widens. "Well, this is a lovely welcome."

Y/N crosses her arms over her chest, her cheeks flushing. "Eyes up here, frat boy. You have ten seconds before I slam this door on your pretty face."

"You think my face is pretty too? The compliments just keep coming," he grins, stepping forward uninvited. "Our blender broke. Need to borrow yours."

"You have an entire house of boys and not one working blender?" she asks skeptically, not moving from the doorway.

"Liam tried to blend a whole pineapple. With the skin on." He shrugs as if this explains everything. "Also, I need some ice. And cups. And maybe that tequila I saw last time I was here."

Y/N raises an eyebrow. "You mean when you climbed through my window because you locked yourself out of your room? That was tequila for MY margarita night with MY friends."

"Sharing is caring, love." He pushes past her into the apartment, leaving damp footprints on her floor. "Also, do you have any of those little sandwich things? The ones with cucumber you made for that study group? The lads are starving, and you're a much better cook than any of us."

Y/N closes the door, watching in disbelief as Harry makes himself completely at home, opening her fridge and peering inside.

"You know, most people call before they drop by. Or, I don't know, ASK before raiding someone's kitchen." She leans against the counter, trying to look annoyed despite the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Harry grabs an apple from her fruit bowl, taking a loud bite. "Most people aren't me, though, are they?" he says through a mouthful. "Besides, you love my spontaneous visits."

"I tolerate them at best," she corrects, reaching for the apple and snatching it away. "And you're dripping all over my floor."

Harry looks down at the puddle forming around his feet, then back up with a shameless grin. "I could take the jeans off too if that would help?"

"Don't you dare," Y/N warns, though her eyes briefly flicker down his torso before she catches herself. "Why aren't you downstairs washing cars like the rest of your fraternity minions?"

"Taking a strategic break. Louis said I was hogging all the attention from the sorority girls." He leans closer, dropping his voice. "But really, I just wanted to see if I could make you blush again. Mission accomplished."

Y/N rolls her eyes, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks. "You're insufferable."

"You're beautiful when you're annoyed," he counters smoothly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

She swats his hand away, but not before a small shiver runs through her at the contact. "Flattery will not get you my blender, Styles."

Harry's smile softens just slightly, something genuine breaking through the usual cockiness. "What will, then? I'll do anything. Liam's determined to make these frozen daiquiris for the after-wash party, and if I return empty-handed, I'll never hear the end of it."

Y/N pretends to consider this, tapping her chin. "Anything?"

"Within reason," Harry clarifies quickly, knowing her too well.

"Fine. You can borrow the blender IF you promise to keep the music down after 11, AND you owe me one favor to be determined later." She crosses her arms, looking pleased with herself.

Harry narrows his eyes, considering. "You drive a hard bargain, psychology girl. But deal." He holds out his hand to shake.

When she takes it, he pulls her slightly closer, his green eyes locking with her hazel ones. "You should come to the party tonight. Might be fun to see you let loose for once."

Y/N pulls her hand away, ignoring the lingering warmth. "I have studying to do."

"All work and no play makes Y/N a dull girl," he sings, moving to her cabinet where he knows she keeps appliances. "I'll save you a dance anyway."

As he locates the blender, Y/N can't help but notice the muscles in his back flexing with the movement, the way water still clings to his skin. She quickly averts her eyes when he turns around.

"See something you like?" he teases, catching her gaze.

"Just making sure you don't steal anything else," she retorts.

Harry clutches the blender to his chest, backing toward the door. "Just this and your thoughts, love. See you tonight?"

"In your dreams, Styles," she calls as he opens the door.

He winks, that infuriating dimple appearing. "Always, Y/N. Every single night."

The door closes behind him, leaving Y/N staring at the wet footprints on her floor, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips despite her best efforts to suppress it.

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Taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy @toosarcastic03 @practistyles @sstyleszzz @sassamanda77 @wheredidmyeyesgo @pbandnutella @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinemaa @bethiegurl19 @harryssunflower17

a/n: please let me know if I’ve forgotten anyone.

[otto-s-alskling]

Bars and bathroom breaks

Simon Riley X Reader (It's a smut, deal with it)

TW: Mentions of alcohol, praise kink (if you squint), breeding kink, did I say alcohol?, semi public sex, a lot of drunk Simon talking

Another mission success. It was to be expected that on missions that went as hard as this one gets its reward, namely by getting as wasted as the team could. Soap managed to wrangle them all into a new pub that's filled with probably the biggest shelf of alcohol that Ghost have seen in a local place, and surprisingly, a band stage, DJ station, and a dance floor in the other half, swarming with locals and tourists alike, much to Gaz's delight. Price chuckled as he surveyed the scene before looking at the four.

"Alright, you know the rules. Don't subtract from the population, don't add to the population, don't get us kicked out, don't get us into jail. If you get arrested, you're on your own, I ain't posting bail." The captain reminded them just before losing sight of Soap who most likely went straight for the bar.

Gaz shrugged before smiling, "I'll go help with the drinks, the usuals for now."

Ghost begrudgingly nodded before grasping your arm, following Price who found a free booth, luckily.

"Big place, am I right?" Price commented as he sat down, which earned an eye roll from behind Ghost's medical face mask.

"Too crowded for me." He muttered and placed his hand on your knee, as if he'd lose you in the crowd despite you just staying in your seat.

The older Brit shook his head, chuckling, just as the other two members returned with a tray of drinks and to Ghost's horror, Soap with a tray of probably at least three rounds of shots for everyone. God have mercy.

•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•

Alcohol flowed and alcohol went. The team lost count of how much they had and had Soap charming a random brunette in a corner, Gaz talking to a few ladies in a different booth, Price on guard duty on the table and surprisingly, you and Ghost on the dance floor.

The music was mellow, definitely meant for couples, but the intoxicated Brit didn't care, just swaying against you slowly, humming along with the melody.

"... Hm, you're quiet." He whispered against your ear, earning a soft huff.

"Just didn't expect you to be a dancer." Your voice whispered back as his hands tightened around your waist.

"It's just a bit of swaying, innit? Can't be that hard of a lad to do." His accent was more punctuated, more pronounced in the last hour that everyone had been getting wasted on. "Reckon you deserve one for surviving out there."

"Just a dance, huh?" You joked and he chuckled before pressing his mask against your ear, almost as if he's... Kissing your earlobe.

"Maybe a bit more than a dance." He huskily whispered. That got your attention as you looked up, seeing him scanning the surroundings and if the others are thoroughly... Distracted. Before you can utter another word, he grabbed your hand, tugging you down the hall to the bathrooms and immediately entered the gender neutral one, locking it behind him.

"Lieutenan-" Your words were halted by his gloves on your mouth as he pulled his mask down before shushing you with a torrid kiss.

You felt his stubble against your chin, his hands landing on the back of your head and one on your hip as he wrapped his arm around you. His tongue was insistent, pressing against your lips before sliding in, finding yours and twirling around it, the taste of alcohol on his tongue and breath almost as intoxicating as a brand new shot.

It was so mind numbing that you didn't notice the hand on your head guiding yours to wrap around his neck, then sliding down to your ass, touching the soft flesh and hoisting you up the countertop. He pulled away, panting before latching his lips on your jaw and neck, fingers gently tracing on your jeans and flicking your pants' button open, zipper finally jolting you to focus as he opened it.

"Shhh ... Don't make a sound, don't want us getting caught now, yeah?" He gruffly murmured as he pawed at you, as if the alcohol in his mind had unleashed the tension that had been brewing between the two of you for weeks. He took no time before pulling you off the countertop, making you face the mirror, seeing your face as red as a tomato, making him chuckle as he licked your ear. "All red for me... Let's see if you can hold back from screaming." He amusedly added as he finally pushed your pants and underwear down, followed by his belt buckle clicking off.

"Eyes on the mirror, love. I wanna see this." He murmured as he held on your jaw while his other hand guided his cock close to your heat, running the tip up and down your hole, teasing but not yet entering. Bastard. He smirked as he watched your reaction, that neediness in your breath and the way your hips followed, as if beckoning him to end your suffering already.

He played the white knight advocate and slowly, fucking achingly slowly eased his cock in, watching the o of your mouth and the way your eyes rolled back as he pushed inch by delicious inch all into your heat. "Shh... Shh... Good girl... Fuckin hell... Better than I imagined..." He was gonna let you adjust but you just had to grind back. "Fucking bitch in heat."

He pushed down on the small of your back, pressing you on to the countertop while his other hand grabbed onto your hair, grasping from the base of it as he made you arch up, forced to see yourself in the mirror as he ruts into you like a madman.

"Bitch couldn't fucking wait huh? Greedy little pussy just had to get more? You're such a - God, fuck, you feel so fucking good." For a man who was as stoic as Ghost, he was vocal against your ears, taunting and praising, the scent of alcohol and sex now filling the bathroom and the rhythmic slapping of wet flesh against flesh.

His hands moved from your hair to your jaw, cradling your face as he kept slamming his hips into you. "Look at that face. Picture perfect." He murmured as he watched your reactions of you getting railed on the mirror.

A few thrusts in got your eyes rolling, cheeks flushed and the thing about keeping quiet has been thrown out the window as you moaned in tandem of his movements. Amber eyes bore into your face before he made you turn to the side and kissed you deeply, tongue twirling against yours sloppily.

"Gonna cum like this? Gonna milk me, baby? Ain't got no rubber, you still want it?" He taunted but you were too cockdrunk to care and just nodded vehemently in between moans. He chuckled darkly as he adjusted and wrapped his arms around your waist, eyes still trained on the mirror.

"This cunt's mine." He muttered before using the countertop as a leverage, slamming his hips hard into yours, making you clutch the edges, profanities spilling out from your lips as you began feeling the tightness in your core hike up fast. You could barely say please before a blinding hot static filled your mind, your knees buckling as you came and creamed all over his cock.

"Fuck, that's it. That's it. God, fucking milk me!" He crazed, still watching your face fill with euphoria on the mirror before his hips stuttered and hilted deep, painting your insides with his warm spurts of virile seed. "Fucking perfect... Oh yeah... God, gonna breed you... Fuck."

He stayed inside for a bit, watching you collapse on the countertop as he chuckled, kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. "Good girl. Perfection... Gonna stay in for a bit, yeah? Make sure it takes."

First actual smut. Wow. Where did my fluffy writing go? 😅😅😅

[scarletsknight]

f*ck me like you’re famous

wc: 3.3k

pairing: eddie x fem!reader

synopsis: the man everyone wants only wants you 

cw: 18+ mdni!!, rockstar!eddie, non canon au, smut, use of marijuana, mentions of alcohol consumption, established relationship, pet names, teasing, eddie's rings (y’all alr know), choking, fingering, oral sex (giving/receiving), orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, reader has an oral fixation (lowkey), multiple orgasms, mirror sex (not really but kinda), lil bit of possessiveness, overuse of the word fuck, marking, sex while under the influence, unprotected sex, aftercare, fluff?

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts since my first acc got snipped and just never reposted 😭 but i lowkey wanna get back into writing for this account. pls don’t come for me if i don’t follow through tho life is just fucking crazy rn but i miss this blog and i miss you guys so i’ll try. but until then i hope y’all enjoy this!! 🫶🏽

Eddie wasn't expecting much difference when Corroded Coffin started playing at the Hideout on Fridays instead of Tuesdays. But the crowd more than quadrupled in size, and it seemed to keep growing every week they came back. 

In the middle of one of their songs, Eddie spotted you not too far from the small stage.

You had been fixated on the band's lead guitarist since you got here, barely taking your eyes from him as he expertly moved his fingers over the strings of his instrument. 

This is what Eddie's always wanted; playing for an actual crowd of people and not just five drunks. But now, as he hears the cheers and sees everyone headbanging along to the music, a dream he's had for so long, all he can do is focus on you. 

After their set was over, Eddie was surprisingly quick to start loading their things into his van.

Eddie was getting no help from his bandmates as they were distracted by the group of girls that had come up and started talking to them. One of them even tried flirting with Eddie, but he quickly excuses himself once he finds you again, smoking.

He weaves his way past the people crowding the alleyway behind the bar, walking through clouds of smoke.

With your back turned to him, you didn't see him coming as you were in the middle of a conversation with your friends, passing a joint around. 

Eddie's eyes slowly drank you in as he approached you.

To say you look good would be an understatement. Not that Eddie would ever think otherwise, but it was something about the fitting leather pants you were wearing that he was slowly growing obsessed with. 

You feel two hands on your hips, and your back meets his chest. Eddie snakes his arms around you. 

Resting your head against Eddie's shoulder, you turn your head to face him. 

"My love," you lazily grin at him. 

"Hi, angel," Eddie cupped your jaw and brought your lips to his. He could taste the faint traces of alcohol on your tongue and the smoke your lips still tasted of. 

The friends you arrived with all commended Eddie and his band for their performance before you added onto the praises.

"You guys were fucking amazing," you tell him. 

"You really think so?" he asks. 

You turn your body toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"Yeah, of course," you nod, "And I could tell your little groupies thought so too," you said. 

Eddie scoffed, "Groupies? I don't have groupies."

"I beg to differ," you say. Eddie follows your eyes, looking at the same girl from earlier, watching you and Eddie, seeming a little mad that someone else has their hands all over him. But you don't give a shit; Eddie was yours first. 

"You jealous?" he teases.

"Never. You're so fucking hot," you tangle your fingers in his hair pulling him closer as if there was any space left between you, "And I don't know, I kinda loved watching everyone go crazy over you, knowing you're gonna fuck my brains out later."

Eddie backed you up against the side of your friend's car, deepening the kiss as he held your face. 

"Keep talking and looking at me like that, I'll take you right here," he threatens, and you laugh. 

Eddie slid his leg between yours, making you hum against his lips, and you felt his thighs come into contact with your core. 

"Eddie," you murmur. From the look in your eyes, he could already tell what you were thinking. 

"Wanna get out of here?" 

"Do you really have to ask?" you smirk.

You bid your friends goodbye, Eddie thanking all of them for coming and letting them know when and where Corroded Coffin is playing next. Walking to his van, hand in hand, Eddie opens the passenger side door for you after you said your byes to the rest of the band. 

Eddie kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested on your thigh. Briefly looking over at you, Eddie feels his chest swell. He watches you roll a joint for him, not wanting to waste any time once you get home, and he couldn't be more in love.

Watching your face twist up in concentration as you wrap the paper around the bud, using the skills he taught you, only made something stir inside Eddie. His hand on your leg started inching higher and higher, firmly squeezing your thigh. 

"Babe, don't start. I'm tryna concentrate," you said, rolling the paper between your fingers. 

"Can't help it when you're the hottest girlfriend on the planet," he grins. 

You glance over at him out of the corner of your eye. "Just shut up and keep your eyes on the road, Munson," you said. 

But Eddie didn't miss the smile that stretched across your face from his words. 

Once Eddie was parked, he hopped out of the van with the freshly rolled joint between his lips, still unlit. He was humming one of Corroded Coffin's songs as he waited for you with his held hand out for you to take as you got out of the van. 

Knowing the whole place was empty, Eddie loudly sang as the two of you slow danced into his trailer. Eddie, dramatically swaying and spinning you around, had giggles spilling from your mouth as you made your way to his room. 

Taking off his shoes and jacket, Eddie swipes a lighter from his desk before sitting at the edge of his bed and sparking the joint. 

Eddie hummed delightedly as thick clouds of smoke entered his lungs. He fell back onto his bed, staring up at his ceiling, taking another drag. 

Having gotten distracted by your boyfriend's immense music collection, not knowing what to put on, you finally make your way over to him. 

Eddie feels the bed sink on either side of his legs as you climb on top of him. He rests one hand on your hip while he smokes with the other. 

You pluck the joint out of his mouth, bringing the filter to your lips and taking a hit for yourself. 

Both his hands are on you now, moving up to your waist. You readjust yourself in his lap, and you hear Eddie sigh. You start subtly dragging your hips against his as you expel the smoke through your nose.

Eddie looked up at you like you were a goddess he was more than ready to worship. 

"God, you're so fucking perfect," Eddie said, "And all mine." 

You would've clenched your thighs together if Eddie's body wasn't between them. You leaned down, grabbing Eddie's jaw and bringing his lips closer to yours. Eddie parted his lips as you blew the smoke into his mouth. 

"And you're mine," you whisper, kissing his face. 

You both sit up, your lips still connected to his. 

"You know that I love you," he stared up at you, his big brown eyes drowning in adoration for you.

"I know," you lean your forehead against his, "I love you too," you tell him before pressing your lips to his.

"Ever since high school. The moment you walked into O'Donnell's class 30 minutes late wearing that goddamn skirt," Eddie slides his hands up your thighs.

You hum into his mouth, kissing him deeply.

"Just promise you won't forget me when you guys become famous," you joke.

"I would never," he says, "You think I'm crazy enough to give this pussy up."

"I hate you," you giggle against his lips.

"Didn't you just say you love me?"

"Yeah, well I change my mind and take it back," you teasingly say, getting out of his lap.

You turn your back to him, but Eddie doesn't let you get too far before he's on his feet too, wrapping his arms around you. Laughs spill from your lips as he holds you against his chest, burying his face into your neck.

"Tell me you love me," he said lowly in your ear, the raspiness of his voice causing slick to pool between your legs.

"No," you said like a moody child.

"Come on, sweetheart, just tell me."

Eddie's fingers found the buttons on your pants, starting to undo them. You wiggle your hips a little assisting Eddie in getting the leather down your legs. He slipped one of his hands between your thighs, stroking your clothed heat.

If Eddie's arm wasn't wrapped around your middle, your knees would've buckled. Between being high and having been incredibly horny for your boyfriend all night, you were extremely sensitive to his touch.

"Let me hear it," he rasps in your ear.

"Eddie," you let your head fall back against his shoulder.

"Mhm?" he hums into your neck.

"I-" the words die on your tongue when he slips his hand into your underwear.

You whimper, feeling the cool metal of his rings against your warm skin. He runs his fingers through your folds, letting your slick coat his digits, purposely neglecting your clit.

"All this for a man you hate?" he scoffs.

You whine, squirming in his arms, trying to move your hips against his hand. But Eddie's strength doesn't allow for it.

"Tell me you love me and I'll give you anything, baby."

You quickly drop the act, falling deeper into this headspace, desperate for Eddie to do anything.

"I love you, Eddie."

"See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it."

He kisses your cheek, starting to rub small circles on your clit. You practically melt against his body, and he falls back onto his bed with you between his legs. You turn your head to capture Eddie's lips in a kiss. At the same time, you're lifting your hips and pulling your underwear off, carelessly letting the piece of fabric hang from your ankle.

Eddie grabs your thighs, keeping them apart. He brings his hand back down to your pussy, lazily playing with your clit.

"Look at you, baby," you follow Eddie's eyes to the mirror by his bed. The sight of you between his legs as he toyed with your clit should've flooded you with embarrassment, but you were already too far gone to care. "So fucking beautiful." he kissed your temple.

"Eds," you start squirming.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Please," you grabbed his wrist, directing his hand where you really needed him.

"So so wet," the tip of his finger teasingly circled your hole before slipping inside you, "And so fucking tight." he then added a second.

You braced yourself with your hands on Eddie's thighs, your nails scratching the denim of his jeans.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Y-Yes. So good."

Eddie pressed his lips to yours as he found a steady rhythm for his fingers. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, and you moan around the wet muscle as he curls his fingers against your soft walls.

"Oh god, Eddie—please," you tell him.

Your legs threatened to close around his hand before he pulled them apart with his other hand. The same hand trails up your body, cupping your boob over your shirt, feeling your perky nipple beneath the material since you opted for no bra tonight. He tweaked the sensitive nub between his fingers, causing you to gasp and your pussy to flutter around his fingers.

"Fuck-m'gonna cum."

"Yeah? you wanna cum all over my fingers, pretty girl?"

"Yes! please please l-"

You let out a broken cry, feeling your orgasm being so abruptly ripped away. You heard Eddie laugh as your hips tried to chase his hand before he left you untouched.

"That's what you get for acting like a brat," he said.

That teasing little fucker.

Turning yourself around to face him, Eddie sees the pout on your face before it's taken over by a smirk.

"I'm sorry, baby," you slowly let your fingers trail down his chest, "let me make it up to you," you fluttered your lashes at him.

Eddie grinned as your hand reached the front of his jeans, palming his semi hard on through his clothes.

He pulled his shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere in the room. You quickly undo his jeans, slipping your hand inside his boxers and beginning to stroke his length.

"Fuck, princess," Eddie groans when you squeeze your fist around him.

You started pulling his jeans off along with his underwear, and Eddie kicked them off his legs the rest of the way. You positioned yourself between his legs, circling your thumb around the tip, smearing the beads of precum all over his cock.

You look up at him through your lashes before you take him into your mouth. You start slow, only sucking on the head, letting the salty precum land on your tongue while you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just like that," Eddie sighs, stroking the back of your head as you take more of him into your mouth.

Whether it was your high or just your infatuation with this man, you couldn't get enough of the feeling of Eddie in your mouth. The weight of his cock on your tongue and his breathy moans were enough to have you pressing your thighs together.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, coating his length in your saliva. Eddie ran a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as if he didn't want to miss a thing. Even with tears in your eyes and spit pooling out of the corners of your mouth, Eddie still couldn't take his eyes off you. 

The muscles in Eddie's stomach contracted as he started to roll his hips against your face. You slowly started taking more of him into your mouth, focusing on breathing through your nose as you relax your throat for Eddie. You didn't care about the limits of your gag reflex, taking Eddie's dick deeper down your throat.

Eddie tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you off him. You whine, not just from the pleasurable pain throbbing from your scalp but the loss of his cock in your mouth.

"Shit, you almost made me cum," he said, shallowly breathing.

"So why didn't you?" you ask, ready to slide him back into your mouth.

Eddie's hold on your hair tightens as he holds you where he wants you.

He smiles as you weakly moan, "Cause as much as I love watching you take me down that pretty little throat of yours, I really need to fuck you."

You moan again, but this time at his words. 

"Please fuck me, Eddie," you didn't care how desperate you sounded. "Please."

"I know, angel, I know."

Once every piece of clothing was discarded, your teeth clashed with his in a heated kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, easily dominating the kiss. Your head met the pillows as Eddie's laid you down. He took his place between your legs, looking down at you. 

Your eyes travel down Eddie's body, studying the ink littered all over his skin like you haven't hundreds of times before.

The muscles in his arm flexed as he pumped his cock in his hand, and you wanted desperately to squeeze your thighs together. 

"How bad do you want it?"

"I want you so fucking badly, Eddie. Been thinking about having you all night. It was hard not thinking about getting up on that stage and letting you have your way with me in front of everyone, so they know who you belong to."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at you before you shrug.

"I told you, not jealous. Maybe just a little possessive."

"That's even hotter," Eddie tells you, "You're mine just as much as I'm yours," you felt his cockhead nudging into your entrance. 

"Yours...Mine," you moan out the word as he slides into you.

You thought the feeling of Eddie inside of you, filling you up, would make you delirious. 

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good."

"Eddie~" 

Eddie started moving slowly, only rocking his hips into yours steadily. 

Eddie knew you as well as the back of his hand. From every movement you make to the noises that spill from your lips, it's like he could tell what you wanted without vocalizing it.

He circled his arms under your legs, your calves resting on his shoulders. 

"Yes—my fucking god, Eddie," you buried your head into the pillows. 

You reach out to him, your nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his skin as he folds you over, pressing your knees to your chest. Eddie's cock deliciously stretched your walls, feeling him so deep you were sure he was in your guts. 

Eddie dropped your legs from his shoulders to kiss you. He swallowed your moans, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

"You're so fucking wet," he groans against your lips. 

"You feel so good," you whimper. 

Sitting back on his haunches, he spreads your legs wider, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you. 

His cock twitches against your soft walls, seeing you fucked out beneath him. Your tits bounce with every one of his movements. Goosebumps rose on your skin from his rings as he slid his hand up your torso. He didn't miss the chance to tease you, rolling and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers. 

You grab Eddie's wrist, silently telling him what you want as you bring his hand to your neck. Eddie wraps his fingers around your throat, applying pressure to the sides, sure to not crush your windpipe. 

Your eyes rolled back, and Eddie could feel your pussy pulsing around him. Feeling the stainless steel digging into your skin added to the euphoria coursing through your veins. 

Eddie saw the smile etched onto your face as he pounded into you and thought he couldn't be more in love. 

"Shit, angel, I don't know if I'm gonna last any longer."

"Please don't stop. I'm so close."

"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

"Yes...Please, Eddie." 

"I want you to cum with me," Eddie's hand finds its way between you, rubbing uncoordinated circles on your clit. 

All you could do was weakly nod at him. 

The music was barely heard over the sounds of your moans and heavy breaths with the obscene squelching coming from where your bodies connected. You blink your eyes to refocus on the man above you. Eddie's messy hair clung to his forehead and neck from the thin layer of sweat covering his skin. The guitar pick he has on the small chain around his neck dangles above your face, and you slightly tug on it to bring him back down and meet his lips with yours. 

"I fucking love you," you said to Eddie as you came. 

Eddie couldn't hold off any longer, cumming after you said those words to him. His cum painted your walls white, slowly thrusting into you as your pussy milked his cock. 

"Fuck, I love you too," he mumbled into your mouth. 

You lazily made out, the both of you taking your time to come down from your highs. 

Eddie finally moved from between your legs, and you could already feel his cum start to spill out of you.

"Don't move," he tells you. 

"Like I have a choice. Unless you want another addition to the collection of stains."

"Like you aren't responsible for half the stains on this bed."

You gasp dramatically, "And whose fault is that!?"

Eddie laughed, picking up his boxers from the pile of clothes on the floor before leaving the room. He came back shortly with a damp washcloth and took his place back between your legs. 

You saw Eddie lick his lips as he stared at your pussy, messy with his cum. 

"Baby, the sheets," you remind him.

"Right," he snapped out of his thoughts, "It's kinda hot, though," he said with a smirk, wiping your sticky skin. 

"You're so gross," you shake your head. 

"But you love it," he grins.

a/n: feedback is appreciated!! thank you for reading <33

[yeagerprincess]

anon, i hope you know i took this VERY seriously. i dont play bout Sally 🫶🏿🩷

So I wrote this because I had a pretty bad migraine and wanted some comfort. MAJOR TW FOR MIGRAINES!!!! Reader is having a retinal migraine WITH an ocular aura. Very descriptive detailing of symptoms.

Your legs were draped across Sal's lap, his thumbs gently smoothing over your thighs while a slasher movie played on the TV. His piercing blue eyes occasionally dart over to you, sensing your unease, though he can't figure out what's got you so distracted. You don't seem to be scared of the movie or nervous from his closeness, just mentally elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the eye-floater in your peripheral vision began to grow in size, slowly inching its way to the center of your vision. Normally an eye-floater would disappear after a few seconds, but this one had been growing and distorting your vision to the point that it looked like TV static whenever you tried to look at something.

"I'm having an Aura. I'm gonna have a migraine," you state abruptly, rising up from the sofa and heading to your bedroom in a panic. "I have to leave, Sal, I'm sorry."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hey, hold on," he calls to you in a gentle voice, palms raised in an attempt to put you at ease as he approaches you. You try at look at him, but half his face- ironically enough- is engulfed in your Aura, rendering him nearly invisible.

Once his hands are gently resting on your shoulders, he whispers, "You told me before that you usually have about 20 minutes before the pain starts, right?" You nod. "So let's use that time to get you comfortable so you can sleep it off. That's the only thing that helps, isn't it?"

It's true. The pain is unbearable when it sets it, leaving nauseous and dizzy. You become sensitive to sounds, smells, light, even temperature. It's miserable.

Sal's voice is hushed and calming when he speaks to you, easing you down the hallway and into his bedroom where he pulls back the blanket for you. "You just focus on getting comfortable, okay? I'll go get some melatonin for you."

Once he's done tucking you in, he leaves the room for a bit longer than you had anticipated, only to return with a handful of freezing cold towels, some ice water, and a little white pill. "How'd you get those towels so cold so fast?" You ask, quickly taking the melatonin before settling back into Sal's blanket.

"You told me that putting a cold towel over your eyes is soothing when you have migraines, so I started keeping towels in sandwich bags in my freezer. Just in case."

You told him that forever ago.

Sal clicks off the light and shuffles into bed beside you, making sure to give you enough space and not overwhelm you with physical contact in your current state. "Oh, and I dropped the temperature to 60 degrees. I know it helps you feel better when it's cold."

Fuck, you loved that man.

Your eyes flutter shut as the sound of the air conditioner powering on lulls you to sleep. "Thank you," you whisper quietly, gripping onto Sal's sweater with just your thumb and index.

"Don't worry about it," he answers softly, "just get some rest, baby."

Hours later, you languidly rise in bed, hair slightly disheveled and eyes half-lidded. When you turn your head, you see him there, unmasked, tapping away at his Gear Boy. The sound of you stirring in bed makes him toss his game into the nightstand, cyan locks swishing as he quickly turns his head to face you. He's stunned to see you already staring daggers into his blue eyes.

Without a word, you crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders as you ease your thigh over his lap. He rests his hands on your hips, slowly running them along your thighs as you straddle him, warm thighs locking him in place. He's a bit awkward at kissing, given his split lips and scars, but damn if he doesn't try. Oh, how he consumes you.

The gasp he lets out when you roll your hips down into him only coaxes one from your lips right after. And the music of your rapturous gasps triggers more sweet music from him. Back and forth, you exchange blissful melodies between hungry mouths. Sal grabs a fistful of your band tee and lifts his hips to meet yours. A slight change, but a drastic one. Through your black and red striped panties, your blooming clit slides up perfectly against him.

With his other hand, he grabs onto your hair to tug your head to the side and expose your pretty brown skin for his ravenous teeth. You suck in a sharp breath through your own teeth as Sal sinks his sharp ones further into that perfect spot right where your shoulder meets the base of your neck. "Baby," you whimper as you tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

"Do it faster," he chokes out, slowly dragging his tongue up your throat, stopping at your ear, and then nibbling on the shell of it. You squeal with delight upon having your weakness exploited so deliciously, pulling Sal into a tight hug as you hump against his dick at a desperate pace. He clings to you just as tightly, falling back onto the mattress with you in his arms. "Baby, I'm gonna cum!" You mewl into his neck, nails digging into his flesh as your ruthless hips writhe on top of him.

"Mhm," he answers, chasing his own release right with you. "Fuckin' cumming," he growls as his hands find your ass, gripping tightly as he ruts up into you.

You're the first to surrender, your hips spasming on top of him as you sing your pleasures into his neck. The feeling of your slippery tongue sliding all over his throat makes him give in right after, painting the inside of his sweatpants with his bliss as his hands struggle to settle on which part of your body to grab onto to for anchorage.

It takes quite a bit for the two of you to come down from your highs, offering each other sweet kisses and soft touches as your chests rise and fall together.

"Sal," you start breathlessly, "you make me feel seen," you admit shyly, thinking back on all he did to comfort you without even having to be asked.

"Then let my eyes feast on you." Sal wastes no time rolling you onto your back, holding your gaze as he crawls down your body and spreads your soft thighs to expose your wetness. It's seeping through your panties, sticking to the fabric as Sal rolls them down past your ankles, and he cant help the way he drinks you in with his eyes. You're still sensitive when he begins to drink you, his mouth closing around your entire pussy, slowly closing around your clit and pulling away with a lewd slurp. Your thighs twitch around his face as he gorges himself on your essence.

You grab onto his hair as you begin to thrash wildly underneath him, still dangerously sensitive from your last orgasm. A needy whine escapes your lips when you feel him hooking his arms underneath your legs and holding them in place over his shoulders, his fingertips deep in the tops of your thighs. "Too much, t-too fuckin' much, I'm gonna cum!" Your eyes roll back in your head as your body tenses up from pleasure, your second orgasm wracking through your core as you try and fail to thrash your way out of Sal's devious grasp.

When you finally come to, Sal is already there, kissing his way up your heaving body as you gently drag your nails all over his skin until they reach his chest. His hands drag all over your hips as he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "Let me know when you're ready for a bath, okay?" He asks sweetly, his gently knuckles caressing along your cheek and jaw as he watches you breathe.

He's going to have to write a song about this as soon you're asleep.

[huhmiya]

CHEF KISS | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: he cooks a meal as a small gesture of gratitude for all that you do for him. this way, both of you can enjoy a meal together tonight, even though that won’t be the only thing he’s eating night.

warnings: smut, oral female receiving, swearing, use of y/n, ass grabbing, pet names (baby, darling, love).

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. I didn’t know what to name the title..

WORDS: 1.5k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

-

You have been doing everything for Chris ever since you started dating, and even before that, it seemed like you had put your own life on hold to help him with his, and you were perfectly content with that.

He was grateful for all you did for him, as he didn't believe he deserved it, but the main reason was that he always felt he wasn't doing enough for you.

Although he wasn't the best cook, he had an idea to prepare a meal and made an effort to learn by reading instructions to make it perfect for you.

He was wearing headphones as he was home alone since his brothers had gone out and offered him to join them, but he preferred to stay in and focus on cooking without any distractions.

He took longer than expected to prepare the meal because he wanted it to be flawless, even though he wasn't used to cooking or doing such tasks.

While you were out all day with your friends, you decided to stay a bit longer, which would make you arrive at your boyfriend's house late.

He was aware that you would be coming around 10pm, as you had mentioned staying with your friends earlier. The loud music blared through his headphones again as he prepared your favorite food, hoping that his subpar cooking wouldn't spoil it for you.

"Shit," he muttered upon noticing a call coming in. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain of the caller as he accepted it through his headphones. However, upon hearing your voice, his face lit up with joy.

"Are you okay, baby?" he inquired, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he continued cooking. You reassured him, "Yes, I'm just ten minutes away, then I'll be at yours."

He responded with a sweet remark, acknowledging your imminent arrival. With ten minutes to spare, he focused on completing the cooking.

As you ended the call after a minute, the music resumed playing on his headphones. He didn't mind, instead smiling as he savored the sound of your voice, which warmed his heart, knowing you were the perfect girl for him.

He had just finished the meal when you arrived, creating a pleasant atmosphere after setting the dinner table. As you entered through the front door with your key, you called out loudly, “It's only me!”

However, the house's unique layout made it seem quiet to him, as he was upstairs.

You made your way upstairs to find Chris with a wide grin on his face. He greeted you with a hug, which you reciprocated, prompting him to plant a kiss on your head.

Stepping back, he proudly showed you his handiwork. Your eyes widened as you observed his efforts, then you glanced at him. Without a word, he understood your unspoken thoughts.

“I did everything, even cooked the meal. I hope my cooking skills aren't too shabby,” Chris said with a smile, brushing your hair away from your face.

“This is so thoughtful, Chris,” you murmured, to which he simply chuckled, pleased that you appreciated it. After a moment of silence, he embraced you once more, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. To him, you were light as a feather, and it was no exaggeration.

He quickly place you down and pulled out a chair for you to sit on while taking a seat himself. His gaze alternated between you and the food in front of him.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it y/n,” he said, observing both the dish he had prepared and your reaction. He didn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t enjoy.

As you began to eat, you found it delicious. It was possibly the best version of your favorite dish you had ever tasted.

He held back from eating first, wanting to gauge your response. When he saw that you liked it, a smile spread across his face.

“It’s amazing,” you exclaimed, prompting his eyes to light up as he nodded in appreciation. He then began to enjoy his own meal, pleasantly surprised by his culinary skills.

While you both ate and conversed, he listened attentively as you recounted your day. Occasionally, he interjected with questions about your activities, eager to hear more.

Throughout the encounter, his gaze remained fixed on you. Your hair was tousled by the wind outside, adding a carefree charm to your outfit that caught his attention. He couldn't help but notice the fresh love shirt you wore underneath, a detail he had glimpsed earlier while you were changing in his room.

"Checking me out, huh?" you teased, prompting him to roll his eyes and chuckle softly as he continued eating.

"Shut your pretty mouth, will you darling?" he retorted, meeting your gaze and playfully silencing you with a finger on your lips, causing your cheeks to flush.

After ensuring you were quiet, he bit his lip and glanced at you one more time before leaning back in his seat.

Soon, he rose from his seat to clear his plate, prompting you to watch him as you finished your last few bites and followed suit.

With a grin, he reached out to tousle your hair as you rinsed the white plate. "Are you sure it was okay? You weren't just saying that because I made it, were you?"

"I assure you, everything was fine. Why didn't you enjoy it?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. He just laughs and stops stroking your hair.

"I did like it, but you know what I would like even more?" he whispers, his voice deepening as he moves your hair to the side, exposing your neck.

"What would that be?" you inquire. He simply looks at you before gently kissing your neck and then speaks.

"Well, I'm still hungry, but this time I'm hungry for you," he says before giggling. "I didn't expect it to sound so cringy," he whispers.

He then kisses your lips and pins you against the kitchen counter, grabbing your wrists and making you wrap your arms around him. You respond by kissing him back.

His hands soon move to your backside, squeezing it before lifting you up onto the clean kitchen counter.

He maintains eye contact as he slowly removes your jeans, admiring your naked thighs before placing your jeans on the floor.

Your eyes widen, but he hadn't noticed. He traces patterns on your thigh before moving his hands up to your waist and then glancing at your shirt.

"Can I keep your shirt on? I find it so fucking hot when you wear my merchandise," he says, his voice filled with desire.

You nod, indicating that you are okay with it. He lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach, removing your bra in the process so you are left only in your shirt and thong.

"I'll be fair and make it a bit more comfortable for you to keep your shirt on," he says, aware that you may find it uncomfortable wearing a bra as he has heard you complain about it before.

You push his hair back as he raises an eyebrow in confusion, but doesn't say anything. He removes your underwear and notices how aroused you are.

“You are so beautiful, love," he whispered, gently holding your legs before leaning in to kiss you. His stubbled beard grazed between your legs, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes closed in pleasure.

He then kissed your intimate area and flicked his tongue over your folds, teasing you with each sensual touch. His nose brushed against your clitoris as his tongue circled around your entrance, causing you to bite your lip and whimper with delight.

His whispered words, “you like that, huh?” preceded the moment he sensually explored you with his tongue, causing your eyes to widen and your back to arch as he held you in place by sitting on the kitchen counter.

He savored the taste of you, wishing he could always have you. Your moans grew louder, and he didn't attempt to silence you since it was just the two of you in his house.

He intensified his movements, expertly pleasuring you with his tongue, causing your legs to tremble. His thumb deftly teased your clitoral hood, eliciting moans as your orgasm approached.

"I'm close, Chris," you warned, to which he simply nodded. He spread your legs wider, continuing to pleasure you until you released all over his tongue.

Your orgasm dripped onto his chin and the kitchen counter, but he paid it no mind, proceeding to clean you up and lick you thoroughly.

"You taste so delicious, darling," he murmured as he pulled away, licking his lips and gazing at you. As you moved to wipe your essence from his lips, he stopped you, using his thumb to clean them before sensually licking it off.

Your eyes widen as he chuckles before lifting you up gently and taking you to the bathroom to freshen up.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[frozenmxngo]

✧*̥˚ In Between the Lines | Choi Beomgyu *̥˚✧

✧ beomgyu x selective mutism fem!reader ✧ summary: y/n, a university student with selective mutism, finding solace in solitude. when beomgyu, a curious music student, starts noticing her, their paths cross, and he learns to navigate her silence. ✧ warnings: panic attacks, social anxiety, mute!reader, swearing, angst, verbal abuse, eventual smut, virgin!reader, slow burn?, trauma, fluff, a bit of self-hatred (let me know if i missed anything! i’ll add more tags for each part as needed) ✧ part one, word count 14k

✧ an: helloo, honestly i wanted to use this fic to spread awareness for selective mutism as a lot of people are unaware of it, i hope this can help people be more understanding and patient with others. ty, i hope you enjoy the read!

MASTERLIST next »

The library was quiet, the hum of the air conditioning blending with the faint rustle of pages and the soft clack of keyboards. Y/N sat at a small table in a tucked-away corner, surrounded by open books and notes. It was her safe haven, away from the chaos of campus life. Shelves upon shelves of books surrounded her like a fortress, muffling the outside world. 

Large bay windows let sunlight pour in, casting a warm glow over the silent corner of the library. Her notebook lay open on the table, half-filled with neat, tiny sketches of animals—an owl perched on a branch, a cat curled up asleep, a bunny mid-hop.

She didn’t notice him at first, too focused on the notes sprawled across her desk. With a big test looming next week, her attention was locked on the video playing softly through her headphones. Her pen hovered above the page, but instead of jotting down key points, she found herself sketching a tiny mouse in the notebook’s margin.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, was anything but quiet as he weaved through the aisles, earbuds in, barely paying attention to where he was going. He wasn’t reckless, just distracted, his focus split between the music blaring in his ears and his search for a textbook he desperately needed for his next assignment. He wasn’t much of a library person—too quiet, too stuffy—but today, he was desperate. 

Beomgyu had been wandering the library for what felt like hours, his eyes scanning the shelves with no success. The textbook he needed was nowhere to be found. He checked the library’s online system twice already, double-checking the section he was once in before, but it still wasn’t showing up. In reality, though, it had only been half an hour.

A sense of helplessness started to creep in. He wasn’t used to asking for help. He liked figuring things out on his own, but right now, he was at a dead end.

Frustrated, he let out a sigh and dragged his hand through his hair, turning to look at the rows of books around him. That’s when he saw her—sitting at a table in a quiet corner, her head bent low as she scribbled something in her notebook.

Beomgyu blinked for a moment, momentarily distracted by the scene. He hadn’t noticed her before, but there was something about her that drew his attention. Her focus seemed unshakable, and the way her pen moved across the page made him pause.

But then he realized something: the music blaring in his ears was so loud, that he could barely hear his own thoughts, let alone anything happening around him. He fumbled with the earbuds, awkwardly tugging them out of his ears with one hand, hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself. His music, still playing loudly, thumped through the air, and he quickly scrambled to turn it off.

He winced, realizing just how distracted he had been by the music. He probably looked ridiculous.

After a brief moment of awkwardness, he gathered himself. “Excuse me,” Beomgyu said, taking a few strides over to the girl. 

Y/N didn’t look up at first. Her headphones were on, but the volume wasn’t high enough to block out the world entirely. She’d grown used to the assumption that no one would ask her for help. It was rare.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, more self-conscious now. “Excuse me,” he tried again, his voice quieter this time, trying to avoid sounding out of place. He took a few more steps toward her, his voice still hesitant, though more intentional this time. “I’m looking for a Music Theory book. Do you know where it is? Or, um, any books on music?”

Y/N’s pen paused mid-stroke. She didn’t look up immediately, as though she were processing his words. Her fingers hovered over the notebook for a moment, before gently putting the pen down.

Beomgyu shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a strange tension knotting in his stomach. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, especially not when asking for help. Normally, he was the type to speak his mind, loud and clear, without a second thought. But something about the silent library and her focused, unbothered presence made him second-guess himself.

Why was he suddenly so awkward? He'd approached strangers for help plenty of times before. Was it the stillness of the library? Or maybe it was the way she was taking her time, processing everything so calmly like she was in no rush to answer him. It felt different than usual, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

When she finally did glance up at him, a faint flush spread across her cheeks. Recognition flickered in her mind—he was in her lecture, always a bit too loud, usually with his friends, his voice always cutting through the room. The sudden focus on her made her feel small, as though she were being pulled out of her quiet world. She hesitated, her eyes flickering between him and her notebook, trying to figure out how to navigate this. Her mind raced, knowing she couldn’t react the way others might, and for a brief moment, the silence between them felt deafening.

“Uh, I took a photo of the section where it’s supposed to be, but... I swear the section must’ve been moved,” Beomgyu said, his voice tinged with discomfort as the silence stretched on. He pulled his phone from his pocket and awkwardly shoved it in front of her face.

Y/N’s gaze dropped to his phone screen, her eyes scanning the library catalog photo. She quickly noticed the error—it was mislabeled, and she immediately knew where the books had been relocated. The music books had once been in the section he showed her, but now they’d been moved to the history section; the two categories had swapped. She knew this simply from the countless hours she’d spent in the library.

Her eyes darted briefly back to his face before she stood up, her movements slow but deliberate. She gave him a small, wordless nod, avoiding his gaze as she stepped past him. Without a word, she made her way toward the section where the history books used to be. 

Beomgyu fell into step beside her, his hands buried in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say. The silence was starting to feel a little too heavy, so he took a deep breath, deciding to break it.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” he asked, hoping to make the situation a little less awkward. “I mean, it’s pretty quiet. A good place to focus, right?”

Y/N’s eyes flickered briefly toward him before she quickly looked away, focusing ahead as she walked. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, and now, with Beomgyu walking beside her, she felt the weight of every step. Her fingers twitched, lightly fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve as she tried to calm the nervous energy building up.

Beomgyu noticed her fidgeting and quickly tried to back off, his voice quieter this time. “Sorry, I guess I’m just rambling,” he said, chuckling lightly. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed for not picking up on the cues that maybe she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

Y/N’s eyes darted toward him, just for a moment, before she looked away quickly. She was still unsure of how to respond but decided it was easier to just let the silence sit. It was what she was most comfortable with.

Beomgyu glanced at her, studying her subtle movements. She wasn’t giving much away, but something about her quiet presence made him want to keep trying. He had a knack for talking to people—usually. So why did it feel so different now?

“I’m Beomgyu, by the way,” he added after a beat, his voice soft enough to match the library’s quiet atmosphere. “Not that, you know, you were dying to know or anything. Just thought I’d introduce myself.”

Y/N’s grip on her sleeve tightened slightly, her pace steady but her mind racing. She didn’t dare meet his eyes again, unsure if acknowledging him would invite more conversation or make things more awkward. She gave him a slight nod, not even sure if he had caught it or not. 

They turned a corner, the rows of books stretching ahead of them like endless possibilities. Beomgyu’s gaze flicked between her and the shelves as he tried to gauge whether she was annoyed, shy, or just indifferent. He wasn’t used to feeling this uncertain.

As they approached the section where the music books had been relocated, Y/N slowed her steps. She hesitated, briefly scanning the spines of the books before pointing to a specific shelf. Her small gesture was precise, her hand lingering just long enough to guide him.

Beomgyu followed her gaze, then backtracked to where her finger had pointed. “Oh, here it is! You’re a lifesaver,” he said with genuine relief, pulling the textbook off the shelf.

Y/N gave a faint nod, her eyes fixed on the floor as she took a small step back, giving him space.

“Do you, uh, study here often?” Beomgyu asked, trying to keep the conversation alive. “I mean, you seem to know this place like the back of your hand.”

Y/N’s face flushed deeper as she glanced up at him, their eyes meeting for the briefest moment. She gave a small nod before quickly looking away, her gaze flitting to the books on the shelf—anywhere but his face.

Beomgyu tilted his head slightly, curiosity sparking in his expression. He couldn’t help but be intrigued. She hadn’t spoken a single word to him. In all his life, he’d never had an interaction quite like this. Sure, he’d met shy people before, but even then, he’d always managed to get at least a word or two out of them.

“Oh,” he said, his voice softening as understanding dawned. “That’s pretty cool. No wonder you knew exactly where to go.”

He let out a light chuckle, his usual confidence tempered by the realization that this wasn’t the time for his typical charm. “Really, though, thanks. I’d probably be pacing these aisles for the next hour if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Y/N met his gaze for just a second before offering a small, shy smile, her fingers lightly brushing the hem of her sleeve.

Beomgyu shifted the book in his hands, unsure if he should say more or let the silence linger. For someone who thrived on conversations and easy banter, this felt foreign—yet oddly intriguing. There was something about her that pulled him in, even without words.

He glanced at her again, watching as she took a half step back, her eyes flickering to the shelves as if searching for an exit. Not wanting to push too far, he cleared his throat, offering a tentative smile.

“So… Do you work here or something? Or are you just, like, the unofficial library expert?” he asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Y/N hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to respond but didn’t. Instead, she just shook her head, her small smile returning for a brief moment before she looked down at her shoes.

Beomgyu nodded, not sure what else to say but also reluctant to let her slip away just yet. “Well, you definitely saved me. I owe you one. Maybe… I can return the favor someday?”

Her head tilted slightly at his words, and though she didn’t respond, her expression softened, as if the offer had caught her off guard in a good way.

Before he could overthink it, Beomgyu laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or, you know, I’ll just try not to get lost next time.” He gestured to the book. “Anyway, thanks again. Seriously.”

Y/N gave a small nod and took a step back toward her corner of the library, her movements quiet but deliberate. Beomgyu watched her retreat, his mind already racing with curiosity about the girl who had barely said anything but somehow left an impression.

As he turned to leave, his footsteps slowing, he found himself glancing over his shoulder, wondering if she’d look back at him.

And she did. The moment his back was turned, Y/N raised her eyes, her gaze following him as he walked away. There was a flicker of something in her expression—curiosity, maybe, or a faint trace of amusement—but when Beomgyu didn’t turn again, she let out a hushed breath and returned to her seat.

The library was Y/N’s sanctuary—a place where she could exist quietly, without the weight of expectations pressing down on her. But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the warm glow of the street lights flickered on, she found herself heading back home, her silent retreat fading behind her.

Home was a different kind of quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful stillness of the library but a silence filled with tension, unspoken words, and carefully maintained boundaries.

Y/N slipped through the front door, her movements silent and deliberate as she kicked off her shoes. Her dad was in the living room, the soft murmur of the TV playing a news channel filling the space.

“Hey, sweetie,” he greeted, glancing up briefly. He was one of the few people she could speak to comfortably, but even then, her words were rare. She offered a small smile in response, her eyes darting toward the stairs.

Her stepmother’s voice echoed sharply from the kitchen, tinged with irritation. “You’re late again. Dinner’s been on the table for an hour.” She emerged into the living room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Y/N froze, unsure how to respond. She gave a small, dismissive nod toward her bag, a quiet way of saying she’d been at school, but her gaze never lifted. The floor seemed safer to focus on.

“Figures,” Her stepmother muttered, the frustration in her tone clear. “You always lose track of time, don’t you?”

Y/N didn’t respond. She simply slid past her stepmother, the familiar weight of tension hanging in the air. She ascended the stairs to her room, the soft click of the door closing behind her bringing a wave of relief. The noise and expectations of the house faded away.

Her room, a quiet refuge, was exactly as she’d left it—shelves lined with books and small trinkets, her desk cluttered with notebooks and unfinished sketches. She sank into her chair, feeling the familiar warmth of the space wrap around her like a soft blanket. With a contented sigh, she grabbed the remote and flicked on her favorite drama, the low hum of the small TV filling the silence. As she began to sketch, the pencil moved instinctively across the paper, her fingers dancing to the rhythm of the drawing. She found herself humming softly, her lips curving into a smile as she let the characters on the screen distract her for a while. In this room, it was easy to forget the outside world. Here, she could giggle, whisper to herself, and just be—no pressure, no expectations.

A few days later, Beomgyu sat in the lecture hall, his focus flickering between the professor and the scribbled notes in front of him. His mind kept wandering back to Y/N, the girl who had quietly helped him in the library. The memory of her sketching in her notebook, so immersed in her own world, stuck with him. It felt odd that he hadn’t really noticed her before, considering how often they must have been in the same place. He couldn’t figure out why, but now, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He had seen her once or twice in the halls before, but it was always fleeting—a brief glimpse as she walked past, her presence never lingering in his mind. It was only now, as he glanced around the lecture hall, that he realized she was sitting in the same class. Her name had never crossed his mind, and he certainly hadn’t noticed her before, but there she was, standing up and packing her bag as the lecture ended.

A strange realization hit him, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She was so calm, moving with that quiet grace he’d seen before. His heart raced a little. This was his chance—he had to talk to her. He had to know her name.

Without thinking, he stood up quickly, trying to weave his way through the sea of students heading for the door. His eyes stayed fixed on her, determined not to lose sight of her this time. When he finally opened his mouth, he called out to her, his voice cutting through the chatter in the room. “Hey!”

Just as he was about to push through the crowd to catch up, he felt a hand grab his arm. It was Taehyun, his friend’s grip firm as he pulled Beomgyu’s attention away.

“Beomgyu, wait up!” Taehyun’s voice was a mix of impatience and excitement. “I need to ask you something before you head out.”

Beomgyu’s gaze flickered from Y/N, who was making her way toward the door, to Taehyun. His heart sank as he realized he’d lost his chance to talk to her.

"Ah, come on, I’ll only be a minute," Taehyun continued, unaware of Beomgyu’s internal struggle.

Beomgyu hesitated, torn, but Taehyun was already steering him away. He shot one last glance at the door where Y/N had just disappeared, frustration bubbling up inside him. He hadn’t even gotten close enough to say anything.

Across the room, Y/N had heard Beomgyu call out to her, his voice cutting through the chatter like a sudden unexpected burst of noise. Her eyes flickered back toward him for a brief moment, catching the earnestness in his expression, before quickly looking away. The tension in her chest flared—was he expecting her to speak? To respond? She wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Her anxiety gnawed at her, whispering doubts in her ear. She couldn’t disappoint him. The skin on her palms felt clammy, and her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. The tightness in her chest made it harder to breathe, her heart thudding faster than the noise of the students around her. With a quiet breath, she pushed herself forward, her steps quickening as she made her way to the exit, each one carrying her farther from the conversation she couldn’t bring herself to have.

Y/N stepped out of the lecture hall, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her chest. The bustling noise of students moving between classes surrounded her, but it all felt distant—muted like she was underwater. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her knuckles pale, as she made her way across campus, her head lowered to avoid the curious glances of strangers.

Her mind replayed the moment Beomgyu’s voice cut through the crowd, his tone almost hopeful. She’d seen the way he looked at her like he was trying to bridge some unspoken gap. And she’d ignored him.

Her heart clenched, the guilt nagging at her. Why didn’t I just stop? The question circled in her mind, but her anxiety offered no answers—just a familiar wave of self-doubt. She had felt so sure in that moment that she couldn’t face him, but now the decision left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Without a clear destination, Y/N wandered toward the quieter part of campus. A shaded bench under a tree caught her attention, and she sank onto it, letting out a shaky sigh. Her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag. The crisp air felt sharp against her flushed cheeks, but it did little to calm the storm inside her. Her guilt, no longer just a whisper, grew louder with each passing second, her thoughts pulling her in circles. She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the worn fabric of the strap of her bag.

Why couldn’t she stop? Why couldn’t she just turn around, meet his eyes, and… do something? Anything? She’d seen the look on Beomgyu’s face—earnest, almost hopeful—and yet she’d walked away. Her chest tightened, a familiar ache spreading through her ribs as her mind replayed the moment over and over, each time adding more weight to the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Her eyes fell to her lap, where her fingers now tugged at the hem of her sleeve. She wanted to cry, but no tears came—just the dull, suffocating heaviness of disappointment in herself. She pressed her lips into a thin line, her gaze drifting to the ground as students passed by, their chatter blending into a dull hum around her.

It wasn’t like Beomgyu had done anything wrong. He wasn’t pushy or rude—just curious. Kind, even. She groaned softly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. A part of her wanted to go back, to find him and explain—though she wasn’t sure how to do that without using words. But another part of her—the louder part—convinced her it was better this way. She couldn’t let him down if she kept her distance.

The minutes ticked by, and Y/N stayed rooted to the bench, the world around her moving while she remained still.

A soft vibration in her pocket broke through Y/N’s spiraling thoughts. She pulled out her phone, blinking at the bright screen.

Jiwon: Hey, where are you? Are we still on for our study session??

Y/N’s heart sank, the weight of guilt pressing down on her chest. She’d completely forgotten. Her mind had been too preoccupied, overwhelmed by the wave of emotions she couldn’t seem to steady. The memory of Beomgyu’s voice calling out to her, the fleeting glance they’d shared, and the way she’d rushed out lingered, replaying in her mind like a broken record.

She stared at Jiwon’s message for a long moment, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Y/N: I’m so sorry! I forgot. I’ll be there soon!

Her thumb hovered over the send button, hesitation gripping her. A small part of her wanted to come up with an excuse, to avoid facing anyone right now. But Jiwon wasn’t just anyone. She was patient, understanding, and someone Y/N didn’t have to constantly explain herself to. If there was anyone she could lean on without judgment, it was Jiwon.

She sighed softly, pressing send. The message was delivered with a quiet whoosh, and Y/N slipped her phone back into her pocket. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she leaned back against the bench. The faint hum of campus life carried on around her. Students chatted as they walked by, their voices blending into a low murmur. It felt like the world was moving forward while she was stuck in place, weighed down by her thoughts.

“I need to get out of my head,” she whispered to herself, her voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the breeze.

Forcing herself to move, she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, her steps slow at first as she made her way across campus. The walk to the library gave her time to collect herself, though the heavy guilt still clung to her like a shadow. She replayed the moment in the lecture hall, questioning her reaction, wondering if Beomgyu had been disappointed or confused by her silence.

As she approached the library, the familiar sight of the towering building brought a small wave of comfort. Pushing the door open, Y/N stepped inside, her eyes scanning the rows of tables until she spotted Jiwon. Her friend was already settled near a window, her laptop open and a cup of coffee beside her. Jiwon glanced up, her face lighting up in a small smile when she saw Y/N.

“There you are,” Jiwon said warmly as Y/N approached. “I was starting to think you ditched me.”

Y/N shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she slipped into the chair across from Jiwon. She pulled out her notebook, the familiar action grounding her.

Sorry, she wrote quickly on the corner of the page before sliding it toward Jiwon.

Jiwon’s smile softened as she read the note. “Don’t worry about it. You okay?”

Y/N hesitated, her pen hovering over the paper. She wanted to say yes, to brush it off and pretend everything was fine. But Jiwon’s expectant gaze made her pause.

I had a rough day, she finally wrote, keeping the explanation short.

Jiwon nodded in understanding. “Well, if you need to talk—or write—I’m here.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread in her chest, the kind of comfort that came from being around someone who understood her without needing a thousand words.

She wrote back with a small smile.

Thanks

Jiwon reached for her coffee, taking a sip before changing the subject. “Okay, so, where should we start? I’ve got a million things to catch up on, and I could definitely use your help.”

As Jiwon launched into a conversation about their upcoming assignments, Y/N found herself relaxing, the tension from earlier slowly easing. For now, she let herself focus on the steady rhythm of studying and the quiet companionship of her friend.

After an hour of focused studying, Jiwon glanced up from her laptop, noticing that Y/N had grown quiet again, her usual energy a little more subdued. The silence between them had stretched longer than usual, and despite her attempts to distract herself with assignments, Jiwon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“You know,” Jiwon said, breaking the stillness, “I think it’s time for a snack. What do you say? The vending machine’s calling our names.”

Y/N looked up, eyes wide, as if caught off guard by the suggestion. She hadn’t said much since they’d settled in, and though Jiwon respected her space, she couldn’t help but worry.

Y/N hesitated, her pen still tapping gently against the notebook. Jiwon noticed the small details—the way her friend’s gaze flickered downward, avoiding her eyes.

“Come on,” Jiwon coaxed with a soft smile. “A little break will do us both good.”

Y/N gave a small nod, and together, they made their way to the vending machines, the sound of their footsteps the only noise in the quiet space. 

As they reached the vending machines, Jiwon casually scanned the selection, but her eyes kept darting back to Y/N, sensing the weight of her silence. 

“So,” Jiwon began, her voice light but tinged with concern, “what’s going on? You’ve been awfully quiet today, and I can tell something’s on your mind.”

Y/N glanced around the hall, her gaze flickering nervously before meeting Jiwon’s. “I…” she whispered softly, her words barely audible. “I’ll tell you when we get back to the table.” Her cheeks flushed as she grabbed a packet of cookies from the vending machine.

Y/N quickly returned to the table, her heart thudding in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about what she was about to say, even though Jiwon would never judge her. Her fingers tightened around the packet of cookies as she set it down, her gaze briefly meeting Jiwon’s expectant eyes.

Jiwon settled back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest, waiting patiently. She’d always given Y/N space when needed, but today, something felt different. She could tell her friend was carrying something heavy.

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes glancing down at her notebook as she pulled it closer. The familiar act of writing helped her focus, and she quickly scribbled the words that had been bothering her.

I feel guilty for avoiding someone. I don’t know how to fix it.

She pushed the notebook toward Jiwon, her anxiety rising, hoping her friend would understand even though the words felt simple.

Jiwon didn’t immediately speak. She carefully read the note, her expression softening with understanding. After a long moment, she placed the notebook down and leaned forward, her voice quiet but filled with care.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jiwon said gently, meeting Y/N’s gaze. “Avoiding someone… it’s tough. But it’s also okay not to know what to do right away. You’re allowed to take your time to figure it out.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her heart easing a little at Jiwon’s comforting words.

Jiwon took a sip of her drink before speaking again, her tone playful but still full of understanding. “You know, I don’t think cookies are going to fix this, but it’s a good start. Want to talk more about it?”

Y/N chewed on her lip, feeling a bit of pressure to open up more. Maybe, just maybe, telling Jiwon a little more wouldn’t hurt.

Her mind was racing. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share, but something about Jiwon’s presence made her feel like it was safe to open up. After a long pause, she finally wrote again, her hand steadier now, but her heart still heavy.

It’s a boy from my lecture... He tried talking to me, but I got too nervous. I don’t know what to do.

She pushed the notebook toward Jiwon, her pulse quickening as the words hit the paper. It was the first time she was saying it out loud, even if it was just on paper.

Jiwon’s eyes widened as she read the note, and she looked up at Y/N with a soft, almost excited expression. “Wait, a boy from your lecture?” she repeated, her voice filled with surprise and a little bit of wonder.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks turning pink as she fidgeted with her hands.

Jiwon leaned forward, her eyes lighting up as if a whole new world had just opened up. “Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” She grinned widely. “You’ve gotta talk to him! He likes you, I’m sure of it.” Jiwon’s voice softened as she continued, “I mean, it’s totally normal to feel nervous, but he wouldn’t have tried talking to you if he wasn’t interested, right?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at Jiwon’s words, but the anxiety still lingered. Talking to him felt like a mountain she wasn’t sure she could climb.

“I don’t know if I can,” Y/N whispered, the feeling of self-doubt creeping back. She jotted down in the notebook once more.

What if I mess it up again?

Jiwon’s expression softened, her voice gentle but encouraging. “Hey, you don’t have to be perfect. Just talk to him when you’re ready. I want you to have fun with all this stuff, you know? Talk to boys, go on dates—just do all the girly things I’ve been dying for you to experience!” She paused, giving Y/N a playful look. “Besides, he’ll probably think you’re super cute the way you are.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little warmth spread through her chest at Jiwon’s support. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to take the first step. After all, Jiwon had a way of making things feel easier, even when they seemed impossible.

Y/N hesitated, her pen hovering over the notebook. She glanced at Jiwon, who waited patiently, her head tilted slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Y/N took a steadying breath before starting to write.

His name is Beomgyu. I met him in the library a few days ago. He needed help finding a book, and I helped him.

She slid the notebook toward Jiwon and sat back, chewing on her lip again as her friend read.

Jiwon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, so this isn’t just some random guy! You’ve already talked to him before?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded slightly, scribbling another note. Kind of. He talked. I pointed him to the book he needed. That’s it.

Jiwon’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “And what’s he like? What’s your impression of him so far?”

Y/N tapped her pen against the notebook for a moment before jotting down. He’s loud. That’s all I know.

Jiwon laughed softly, shaking her head. “Loud, huh? That’s kind of cute. So, why do you feel guilty about avoiding him? He doesn’t sound like the shy type—you think he noticed?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed as she wrote. I don’t know. Maybe? He tried talking to me, and I just froze.

Jiwon’s smile softened. “I get why you feel bad, but it’s okay, Y/N. You didn’t mean to ignore him. It’s not like you were trying to be rude.”

Y/N nodded, but her pen started moving again, her words spilling out onto the page. I just feel bad because… he seems like the type of person who’s good at talking to everyone, and I couldn’t even say anything back.

Jiwon’s expression turned thoughtful, her voice gentle. “Well, if he’s the kind of person who talks to everyone, I’m sure he’s not going to be upset about it. He probably understands that not everyone’s as outgoing as him.”

Y/N glanced down, a small part of her feeling reassured.

Jiwon tilted her head, her tone shifting to something more playful. “So, what are you going to do if you see him again? Maybe help him find another book?”

Y/N shook her head quickly, her cheeks heating up as she wrote. I’ll probably just hide.

“Y/N!” Jiwon gasped dramatically, though her grin showed she wasn’t actually upset. “Don’t hide! Come on, you already helped him once. If he talks to you again, just smile or wave. Baby steps, okay?”

Y/N hesitated but eventually nodded, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Jiwon’s encouragement felt comforting, even if the idea of facing Beomgyu again still made her stomach twist with nerves.

Jiwon leaned back in her chair, stirring her drink idly. “So… Beomgyu. What kind of loud are we talking about? Like, constantly talking over everyone loud, or just someone who naturally fills a room?”

Y/N hesitated, tapping her pen against the edge of her notebook before writing. He’s confident. Like he knows what to say, and doesn’t overthink it.

Jiwon tilted her head, her lips curving into a curious smile. “Confident, huh? That’s an interesting word to use. So, he’s not just loud—he actually knows how to carry himself?”

Y/N nodded slightly, her cheeks warming as she wrote again He’s the type of person people probably notice right away. I mean… not in a bad way.

Jiwon grinned, leaning forward. “And you noticed him. That says something.”

Y/N’s hand froze mid-air, her face heating up. She quickly scribbled. Only because he came up to me in the library! He needed help finding a book.

Jiwon laughed softly, her tone teasing but gentle. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop connecting dots. So, what happened after that? Did he say something that stuck with you?”

Y/N thought back to their brief encounter, her stomach fluttering as she remembered his bright smile. She shook her head and wrote. No, not really. He was just… nice. But when he talked, I felt like I didn’t know how to respond.

Jiwon softened at that, her teasing replaced by concern. “Y/N, that’s okay. You were caught off guard—that doesn’t mean you messed up or did anything wrong.”

Y/N pressed her lips together before writing. But what if I see him again?

Jiwon leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “If you see him again… like I said before, take baby steps. Just give him a smile, show him you’re not avoiding him. You don’t have to say anything—just a simple nod and that beautiful smile of yours.”

Y/N hesitated, her pen tapping lightly against the notebook. Jiwon was always so good at talking to boys, and Y/N trusted her advice… Not that she was trying to impress Beomgyu or anything.

Y/N nodded slowly, the tightness in her chest loosening ever so slightly.

“And honestly?” Jiwon added with a grin. “If he’s confident like you said, I bet he’ll find a way to talk to you again. Guys like that aren’t easily discouraged.”

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that crept onto her face, a soft laugh escaping as she looked down at her notebook.

Jiwon beamed at the sound, pleased to see her friend relaxing. “Alright, now that we’ve dissected your charming classmate, can we focus on our assignments? Unless you want to write me a whole essay about Beomgyu…”

Y/N shook her head quickly, her cheeks burning as she turned the page in her notebook. Jiwon laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it—for now.”

The two fell into an easy rhythm as they returned to their study session. But even as Y/N jotted down notes and worked through her assignments, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see Beomgyu again—and if she’d have the courage to do anything differently.

The next few days passed in a blur, each one blending into the next. Y/N kept herself busy with classes, studying, and working at the university café. It was a routine that helped her stay grounded, and she liked the quiet, easy tasks—stocking supplies, making drinks, and cleaning. Currently, she was on drink duty again, and she found comfort in the rhythm of it, even as her mind wandered.

Her back was to the café entrance when she heard a familiar voice, just a bit louder than necessary.

“Taehyun, I’m telling you, I need something to wake me up. Maybe an iced latte?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Beomgyu. She had heard that voice enough to recognize it, even without seeing him.

Trying to stay calm, Y/N kept her focus on the drinks she was preparing. She wasn’t ready to face him. She wasn’t even sure what she’d say, let alone if she could keep her anxiety from spilling out. Beomgyu and Taehyun were ordering, and she hoped—no, prayed—that they wouldn’t notice her.

Beomgyu’s voice rose, this time giving his order, “I’ll have a caramel macchiato, please.”

“One matcha frappé, and a caramel macchiato, coming right up!” Y/N’s coworker called out the order.

Beomgyu and Taehyun moved aside to wait for their drinks, talking casually, their laughter carrying through the small café. Y/N kept her back to them, eyes darting nervously between the drinks she was making and her coworker who, to her dismay, was too busy cashing out a group of customers to help.

Her heart was pounding now. She knew she’d have to hand the drinks to Beomgyu and Taehyun. There was no way around it. She couldn’t just hide forever. But she didn’t want them to look at her, not now.

Her hands trembled slightly as she prepared their drinks, praying they wouldn’t catch her eye. Her movements felt clumsy, each step taking longer than it should. As she finished the drinks, Y/N glanced at the counter, barely managing a quick, panicked glance at the pair. She kept her face turned away, her back still facing them.

Beomgyu and Taehyun were deep in conversation, and Y/N took the opportunity to push the drinks toward them as quickly as she could. But she wasn’t quick enough. As she glanced up, she found Beomgyu’s gaze meeting hers.

Beomgyu’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, and then his gaze dropped to her name tag. He smiled, a little surprised, before meeting her eyes again.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his tone casual but warm. “Y/N, right?” He glanced at her name tag again, as if confirming what he’d just read. "I didn’t realize you worked here."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. His smile was friendly, but the direct attention still sent a wave of heat to her cheeks. She nodded, her throat tightening, not sure what to say next.

Taehyun, noticing the moment, raised a brow as he looked between them, but said nothing, content to let Beomgyu lead the conversation.

Beomgyu waited for her to respond, his smile still in place, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

Y/N’s heart raced, her mind spinning as she tried to recall what Jiwon had told her to do. Smile! That’s what she said, right? she thought, panicking slightly.

Forcing her lips into the smallest smile she could manage, Y/N quickly nodded in Beomgyu’s direction. It felt stiff and unnatural like her face wasn’t cooperating with the nerves flooding her body. She immediately looked down at the counter, hoping her awkwardness wouldn’t be too obvious.

Beomgyu, however, seemed to notice her discomfort. His smile softened, and he looked at her with a trace of curiosity, not at all bothered by her nervousness. He turned to Taehyun but lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his gaze still on her.

“Our drinks look great,” Beomgyu commented, taking both cups and passing one to Taehyun. He looked back at Y/N, offering a quiet, “Thank you,” before turning to head toward a table with his friend.

As Y/N went back to the counter, she tried to focus on preparing the next drink, but her thoughts kept circling back to Beomgyu. Was that it? Was that all? Maybe he didn’t really want to talk to her, or perhaps he had only been polite because he noticed how awkward she was. She hadn't said a word, so it made sense that Beomgyu might’ve thought she wasn’t interested in talking.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she made the next drink, her mind racing. She hadn’t realized that Beomgyu had actually been trying to be kind to her, his smile soft, his words gentle, trying to make her feel at ease without pushing her. But to Y/N, it had felt like she’d somehow missed something important. The small part of her that had hoped for something more—maybe even just a longer conversation—started to feel foolish.

With a quiet sigh, she focused back on the task at hand. She had to remind herself that it was just a casual exchange, just like any other day at work. Nothing more to it. But the nervous fluttering in her chest didn’t go away, and as she handed off the next drinks to her coworker, she couldn’t help but steal a glance toward the table where Beomgyu and Taehyun had sat down. And then, just as quickly, she froze.

Beomgyu was staring at her.

No, wait—maybe it wasn’t me he was staring at, there’s a ton of people here, she thought. Her heart skipped a beat as she glanced away, feeling a flush creep up her neck and cheeks. She couldn’t be sure, but it definitely felt like eyes were on her. She tried to shake off the feeling and focus back on her work, but the nervous flutter in her chest wouldn’t go away.

Her shift passed in a blur after that, the lingering buzz of unease settling in her stomach. By the time she stepped out of the café, the evening air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth still clinging to her face. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, letting the familiar rhythm of her walk to her car settle her thoughts.

By the time Y/N got home, the weight of the day pressed down on her—not from exhaustion, but from a restless energy that refused to settle. She slipped off her shoes at the door and made her way upstairs, the familiar quiet of her room wrapping around her like a warm embrace.

After setting her bag down, she collapsed onto her bed, staring at the ceiling as her mind replayed the moment in the café.

He was staring at me… right?

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to customers looking her way—it came with the job—but this was different. This was Beomgyu. And the way her heart had reacted to him, the way her breath had caught in her throat, made it impossible to ignore.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and grabbed a notebook from her nightstand. Instead of writing, she flipped to a fresh page, letting her pen glide across the paper in small, aimless doodles—a pair of mismatched socks, a tiny bear with round ears and stubby paws sitting beside a cup of coffee, and a star with a sleepy face.

Drawing always helped settle her nerves, but tonight, her thoughts kept drifting. To the way Beomgyu had said hi. The way he had left so casually, as if the whole moment had meant nothing.

Maybe it was nothing.

She tapped the pen against her lip, staring at the page. Then, without thinking, she sketched the messy outline of a person—shaggy hair, a hoodie, a slight tilt of the head.

Y/N blinked.

She closed the notebook a moment later, pressing her palms against the cover as though trying to erase the drawing.

Nope. Not thinking about this.

Grabbing her blanket, she curled up into a cocoon, burying her face into the fabric. Tomorrow, she’d forget about it. Beomgyu was just another customer.

She just wished her heart would believe it.

The quiet of her room settled in, the gentle hum of the outside world barely making it through the thin walls. For a few moments, it felt like the perfect escape. The world outside her room could wait.

But then, she heard the creak of the floorboard outside her door—heavy footsteps that didn’t belong to her dad.

Y/N’s chest tightened.

A sharp knock at the door broke the silence. "Y/N," came the voice from the other side.

Her stepmom didn’t wait for an answer before pushing the door open.

"Don’t you think it’s time you stop with all this silent treatment?" She asked, her voice tight with the familiar frustration that seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow. "This whole ‘I’m too quiet to speak to anyone’ routine is getting old."

Y/N didn’t respond, her face still buried in the blanket. She knew what was coming, but she couldn’t bring herself to face it right now.

Her stepmom took a step further into the room, arms crossed over her chest. "You could’ve said something at breakfast this morning, but instead, you just sat there, barely even looking at me. I’m trying, but I’m getting tired of it."

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, but she didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Not right now.

In her mind, Y/N silently disagreed. Her stepmom wasn’t trying at all. She never had. Not when Y/N was a child, when her silence was met with anger and frustration rather than understanding. Her stepmom had always used her quietness as a way to control her, to make her feel less, to force her to change in ways she wasn’t ready to. It had never been about helping; it had always been about power.

But Y/N couldn’t say any of this. Not now.

Her stepmom’s voice cut through the silence again, sharp as ever. "Maybe if you actually spoke up, you wouldn’t feel so isolated all the time. You wouldn’t have to hide away in your room."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to argue, to say it wasn’t that simple, but the words were stuck, trapped behind the knot in her throat.

Her stepmom waited for a response, but when none came, she sighed heavily. "You know, it’s not normal to shut people out like this. I’m trying to help you." The words were layered with frustration, but Y/N knew better. Her stepmom's so-called "help" had never been anything more than a way to force her into compliance.

Y/N didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her. She could feel the weight of the situation press down on her, the suffocating silence stretching on between them. Her stepmom was still standing there, waiting. But Y/N wasn’t going to give in. She never did.

"Don’t you think it’s time you grew up and spoke for yourself?" Her stepmom’s voice softened, but it was the kind of soft that felt manipulative, like it was meant to break her down, make her feel guilty. "I’m just trying to help you, Y/N. But you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be."

Y/N’s chest tightened. It was always like this. The same cycle, the same words, the same push to make her speak, to make her perform for her. She was so tired of it.

The silence that followed seemed to last forever.

With a sigh, Y/N finally sat up, the blanket slipping down to her waist. She didn’t meet her stepmom’s eyes, but she could feel her gaze on her, sharp and expectant.

The silence between them felt suffocating, pressing against Y/N’s chest, until the knot in her throat finally became too tight. She had to do something. But what?

Her stepmom’s voice broke through the silence again. "I’m not going to stand here all night, Y/N." The words dripped with frustration.

Y/N’s hands trembled beneath the blanket. She could feel the weight of her stepmom’s expectations, her anger, all of it crashing down on her. And yet, the words refused to come. The silence—her silence—was both her defense and her prison.

For a moment, Y/N almost considered speaking. Maybe, just maybe, saying something would make it stop. But she knew that wouldn’t work. It never did. Her stepmom never wanted to listen. She just wanted to force her to speak, to force her to be someone else.

The thoughts swirled in her mind, the tension in her chest growing heavier, until it felt like she might suffocate. She wanted to yell at her stepmom, to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, that she couldn’t just speak up because her body refused to cooperate. She wanted to say that she wasn’t choosing this silence, but the words never came.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, biting down on her lip to keep the flood of emotions inside. She tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like something was lodged in her throat, a thick, suffocating pressure that kept her from making a sound.

Her stepmom’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "Why can’t you just say something? Is it really that hard?"

Y/N flinched, her entire body tensing as if the question might break her. She wanted to scream, to shout that it was hard—that she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t. But her throat remained tight, her voice locked away.

"I just want you to be normal!" Her stepmom’s voice cracked with anger, her words sharp and biting, as though the pressure of everything had finally erupted.

Her stepmom waited, the air thick with expectation, but Y/N could only curl further into herself, gripping the blanket tighter, wishing she could disappear.

"Fine," her stepmom muttered, the bitterness in her voice clear now. "Keep hiding. You always do." She turned sharply and left, the door closing behind her with a finality that stung.

Y/N sat motionless, her legs pulled up to her chest, the blanket now pulled tightly around her body. The quiet in her room, which usually felt like a soft cocoon, was now suffocating. The hum of the outside world couldn’t mask the tension that still lingered in the air, thick with the weight of her stepmom’s words. It felt heavy now, the silence pressing in on her, amplifying everything she couldn’t say, everything she wished she could change.

The anger from their confrontation burned in her chest, but it was a slow, bubbling kind of anger. The kind that twisted inside her, gnawing at her with each passing second. She wanted to scream, to yell everything she’d never been able to say, but the words were stuck. Her body felt frozen, caught in this never-ending loop of failure.

Her stepmom’s voice echoed in her mind, each phrase repeating over and over like a broken record. "Why can’t you just say something?" "I want you to be normal." The words cut into her, digging deeper into the wound her stepmom had been picking at for years. And yet, despite the anger that flared up inside her, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her stepmom was right.

She hated herself for it. Why can’t I just be normal?

The question lingered in the air, gnawing at her. She curled in on herself tighter, her nails digging into her arms. She could feel the anger rising in her chest, but it wasn’t the kind of anger that would help her break free—it was the kind that ate away at her from the inside, tearing at the pieces of her that were already fragile. The kind of anger that made her doubt herself, make her feel smaller, weaker.

She felt so broken. And for a moment, she wished she could tear herself apart and rebuild herself into someone who wasn’t so defective. Maybe if she were someone else—someone who could speak, who could just act normal—things wouldn’t be this way. Maybe her stepmom wouldn’t see her as a burden, as something to fix.

But the truth was, she didn’t know how to change. She didn’t know how to be what everyone expected her to be. And every time her stepmom spoke to her like that, it felt like the pieces of her own self-worth chipped away, leaving behind something less than what she’d been before.

Normal—that word had never felt more unattainable.

Y/N closed her eyes, but it didn’t make the feeling go away. It only made the weight of her own silence feel more suffocating. The pressure of trying to conform, to fit into a mold she didn’t belong in, was like a vise tightening around her chest. Her stepmom’s disappointment echoed in her head, filling up every empty space. Why can’t you just speak?

She didn’t know how to speak when everything inside her felt like it was locked behind a door she couldn’t open. Every attempt to break free from the silence had always led her back here, to this suffocating place where she couldn’t even breathe right.

The self-hatred was familiar now. It had been a constant companion for as long as she could remember. She hated herself for not being able to meet expectations, for not being enough in the way everyone seemed to want her to be. She hated that her stepmom was right—that she was different, that she didn’t belong, that she wasn’t normal.

Her breath hitched as the frustration built up, an unbearable knot in her throat. She wanted to shout, to make it stop, but all she could do was lie there, trapped in her own mind, fighting with herself. It always felt like this. Every time, the words would slip away, and she'd be left in this awful silence, all alone with her thoughts.

But more than anything, Y/N hated how small she felt. How her stepmom's words had a way of making her feel so insignificant, so unworthy. It was as though, by not speaking, she was failing in every way possible. The thought of her years in speech therapy stung. She'd tried. She had. But somewhere along the way, things had fallen apart. In middle school, she’d made progress. But high school? That was when it all came crashing down. She'd had no therapy, no guidance, and the silence crept back in like an old friend—unwanted, but familiar. And now, here she was, stuck with the same old weight in her chest, the same crushing inability to speak.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but it wasn’t just sadness she felt—it was anger, raw and bitter, mingling with the self-hatred that had always lingered under the surface. She wanted to scream, to yell everything she’d never been able to say. She wanted to shout at her stepmom that she wasn’t broken, that it wasn’t her fault. But the words, once again, were stuck, trapped behind the same invisible barrier.

Instead, she let herself cry, angry tears streaking down her face. She didn’t even know why she was crying anymore. Was it because of her stepmom? Or because of everything she could never say? The frustration built in her chest, but all she could do was let the tears fall, each one carrying the weight of her silence, of her inability to just be like everyone else.

Her fingers, trembling, found their way to the edges of her sleeve. She began rubbing the fabric between her fingers, a mindless gesture, but one that had always calmed her in moments like these. The soft, repetitive motion felt grounding, like it was the only thing in her control when everything else felt so far out of reach. She didn’t even notice she was doing it—this small act of comfort that was as much a reflex as it was a way to cope with the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing over her.

As the minutes dragged on, she felt herself sinking deeper into the shame and frustration, the thoughts spiraling out of control. How many times had people thought she was rude? How many times had she been told she was unfriendly, cold, because she couldn’t speak up? She’d seen the looks, the whispers behind her back. She knew what they thought of her. A shy girl? No. They thought she was stuck-up, standoffish, even rude. They didn’t understand that it wasn’t about not wanting to talk—it was about not being able to.

Her head fell into her knees, her body shaking with the force of the tears she couldn’t hold back. If only she could just be... normal. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. And it hurt more than anything.

A few days later, the evening had fallen, and the café was quieter than usual. The last of the customers were finishing their drinks, and Y/N’s coworker had settled behind the counter, casually handling the few remaining customers. Since the café wasn’t busy, Y/N had been given the task of cleaning up—sweeping the floors and wiping down the tables. It felt like a peaceful end to her shift, one where she could quietly focus on the tasks at hand.

As Y/N moved around the café, her mind was distant, absorbed in the repetitive motion of cleaning. She didn’t notice when the door jingled open and someone walked in.

Beomgyu entered the café with a relaxed air, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/N. She was still focused on her task, oblivious to his presence. His gaze softened, watching her for a moment before he stepped up to the counter to place his order.

“I’ll just have an iced green tea, please,” Beomgyu said, his voice light, but loud enough for Y/N’s coworker to hear.

Y/N’s coworker nodded and got to work making the drink, his attention now split between the counter and the lingering emptiness of the café. Once the drink was handed to him, Beomgyu moved to the side, taking his usual spot by the window and casually sitting down at a table, his eyes naturally drifting back to Y/N as she moved about.

He noticed how focused she seemed, her hands gently wiping down a table. She was lost in her own world, unaware of the quiet gaze that followed her movements. For a moment, Beomgyu simply watched, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Y/N continued cleaning, unaware of his eyes on her. She moved to the next table, pausing to scrub at a stubborn spot. It wasn’t until she reached for the cleaning supplies near the counter that she noticed Beomgyu sitting at the window, looking in her direction.

Her heart skipped, and for a moment, she froze. Was he... looking at her? She quickly turned her gaze away, hoping she hadn’t been caught staring. Y/N busied herself with finishing up the last of the cleaning, trying to shake off the nerves that had suddenly crept in.

Beomgyu, however, wasn’t making things easier. Every now and then, his eyes would flick back to her, but he never made a move to interrupt her work. Instead, he took a sip of his drink, his attention still lingering on her, as though waiting for the right moment to approach.

Y/N stole another quick glance at him, her stomach fluttering when she realized that yes, he was indeed looking her way. She quickly looked down at her hands, wishing for the floor to swallow her up. He wasn’t making any attempt to talk to her, but just knowing he was there, watching her, made her feel exposed in a way she wasn’t sure how to handle.

She returned to the counter, hoping to stay busy so she wouldn’t have to overthink the situation. Y/N tried to keep her movements casual, even as she caught herself glancing in Beomgyu’s direction again.

Beomgyu smiled to himself as he watched her, taking another sip of his drink. He wasn’t in a rush to leave. He liked how she didn’t seem to know he was watching, giving him the chance to enjoy the quiet moment with her without pressure.

The café had grown quieter as the clock ticked closer to closing time. Y/N’s shift was nearing its end, and she was finishing up the last few tasks—restocking and collecting stray cups. Her coworker, who was managing the counter, had been keeping himself busy with a couple of remaining customers. Y/N stole a glance at the clock, noting that her shift would end soon. Her heart, however, was still racing from the nerves that had built up ever since Beomgyu had entered the café earlier.

She glanced over at his table, finding him still seated alone, but this time, his gaze seemed to be fixed on his phone. She quickly looked away, trying to ignore the feeling in her chest. It was hard not to notice the way his eyes lingered on her all night, but she kept herself busy, hoping the discomfort would fade.

After about half an hour, Y/N finally made her way toward the counter, preparing to clock out. Her coworker was chatting with a customer, so Y/N walked over to the register to grab her things, trying to keep her movements casual, trying to pretend she wasn’t aware of Beomgyu sitting just a few feet away. Eager to be away from work, she quickly untied her apron, folded it neatly, and slipped it into her bag

She pulled her bag over her shoulder and then successfully clocked out. Just as she was about to turn to leave, she felt a light tap on the counter. She looked up, startled, to find Beomgyu standing there with a soft smile.

“Hey,” he greeted her, his voice calm. “Are you about to head out?”

Y/N felt the tension in her body rise again, but she nodded.

Beomgyu’s smile softened as he looked at her. “Ah, I see. Well, I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute before you go. If that’s okay?”

Y/N froze for a moment; she hadn’t expected Beomgyu to approach her again, and part of her was still unsure of how to react. With a slow nod, she looked up at his face.

And that’s when it hit her—up close, Beomgyu was even more striking than she had realized. His eyes, warm and expressive, were just a shade lighter than she remembered, and his smile was disarming. There was something about the way the dim café lighting caught the curve of his jaw and the easy confidence he wore like a second skin.

Y/N found herself momentarily breathless, her thoughts scattering as she studied him. His features were so effortlessly handsome, she hadn’t truly noticed before, distracted by the nervousness whenever they crossed paths. Now, with him standing so close, she realized he had a presence that made it hard to look away, even for a brief moment.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Y/N quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed her brief lapse in composure, but the moment of silence stretched out between them.

Y/N took a deep breath, still feeling the nervous flutter in her chest, but she could tell Beomgyu wasn’t trying to pressure her. His smile was genuine, and there was a kindness in his eyes that made her feel a little at ease.

She glanced at the clock, seeing that the café was about to close, and then back at Beomgyu. With a soft exhale, she nodded. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk, even if it was just a little.

Beomgyu’s eyes lit up, his expression softening. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’re willing to chat. I know it’s late, but if you’re up for it, we could head to the library. It’s quiet, and I know that’s where we first met… Thought it might be a good place to continue the conversation.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t sure about leaving the café, but the idea of being somewhere familiar, like the library, felt less intimidating. She nodded again, her fingers brushing the edge of her apron nervously, but she made the decision. It was just a short walk. She could do this.

Beomgyu smiled brightly at her response. His expression a mix of relief and warmth. “Great! Let’s head over then.”

The walk to the library was quiet, the cool night air brushing against their skin as the campus felt peaceful. Most students had already headed home, and the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated the path ahead. Y/N could feel her nerves easing a little as she walked beside Beomgyu, his presence somehow calming despite her earlier anxiety.

They didn’t speak much during the walk, and Y/N was thankful for the silence. It gave her time to think and process everything that had happened. She kept her gaze forward, but she could feel Beomgyu’s presence beside her, his footsteps light and steady. Every now and then, she could hear him humming softly, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was nervous too.

When they reached the library, the door automatically slid open, and they stepped inside. The soft hush of the building immediately enveloped them, the sound of footsteps echoing in the empty hall. Beomgyu led the way, gesturing toward a table by one of the large windows.

“Here’s good,” he said with a smile. “I like this spot. It’s peaceful, and you get a nice view of the campus at night.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the quiet atmosphere. She felt the weight of the day lifting off her shoulders as she took a seat, she placed her bag in the chair next to her and then pulled out her notebook.

Beomgyu settled into the chair across from her, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “So… I guess I should start by saying thanks for meeting me. I know this might feel a little random, but I just wanted to talk with you more.”

Beomgyu shifted in his seat, the quietness between them feeling heavier than he’d expected. He wasn’t used to moments like this—he thrived in conversation, in laughter, in noise. Sitting across from someone so silent was unfamiliar, and for a moment, he wondered if he’d made things awkward.

Y/N glanced up at Beomgyu briefly before opening her notebook. She hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing over the cover as if steadying herself. Flipping through the pages in search of a clean spot, she tried not to feel the weight of Beomgyu’s gaze.

As she turned the pages, Beomgyu’s attention was drawn to the scattered doodles filling the margins and corners—tiny cats curled up in intricate poses, a few birds in mid-flight, and even a tiny turtle peeking out of its shell. The sketches were charming and full of personality, giving him a glimpse into a side of her he hadn’t noticed before. He couldn’t help but smile, but his smile quickly faded as realization set in.

But as she kept flipping, it dawned on him. She’s never spoken to me… Is this how she talks to people? he thought, his expression softening as understanding settled in.

It wasn’t a bad thing—it was just different. Beomgyu wasn’t used to this kind of communication, but there was something fascinating about it. Watching her write instead of hearing her speak felt quieter, more intentional, and somehow more personal.

Finally landing on a clean page, Y/N pulled out her pen. Her hands trembled slightly as she began writing, her nerves threatening to overwhelm her. She’d never done this with someone like him before. What if he didn’t understand? What if he thought it was weird? Most people found her notebook strange, and she braced herself for the same reaction.

Beomgyu’s natural urge to fill the silence started to creep in, but he resisted it, allowing the quiet to settle around them. It dawned on him that this was how she communicated—on her terms.

When she finished writing, she slid the notebook toward him, her stomach twisting in knots.

Why did you want to talk to me?

Beomgyu blinked, surprised at the bluntness of her question. He glanced up at her and smiled. For someone so reserved, she didn’t shy away from being direct when she wrote.

“Well… I guess I just wanted to get to know you better,” he said, his tone soft but honest. “You’re quiet, but there’s something about you that makes me curious. Like, I feel like there’s more to you than what people might see, and I wanted to figure out what that is.”

Y/N listened carefully, her hands hovering above the notebook as she processed his words. The knot in her stomach loosened slightly, though the nervous energy still buzzed beneath the surface, Beomgyu’s answer caught her off guard.

When she glanced up and saw the way Beomgyu’s gaze softened—more curious than anything—her heart fluttered, though this time, for an entirely different reason. She wasn’t used to someone looking at her like that—without judgment or pity, but with genuine interest.

Her pen hovered for a moment before she wrote again.

I’m not good at talking to people.

Beomgyu leaned closer to read her note, his smile growing softer. “I kind of figured,” he said with a small chuckle. “But honestly? That’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you’re not comfortable. This is different, but I don’t mind it. Actually…” He paused, his eyes catching on her doodles again. “I think it’s kind of cool.” Y/N blinked at his response, her heart skipping because of the unexpected compliment. Her fingers fiddled with the pen as she wrote again.

You’re really nice.

Beomgyu read her note, his grin widening. “I try,” he teased gently. “But seriously, I like this. I like talking to you—however you want to do it.”

For the first time, Y/N felt the tension in her shoulders easing. Beomgyu wasn’t just tolerating her way of communicating—he genuinely appreciated it.

They continued their conversation, the flow of words becoming more natural between them. Y/N shared her passion for animals, her dream of becoming a vet tech, and how much peace she found in working with animals rather than people. Beomgyu, in turn, talked about his love for music, his journey in learning audio engineering, and his deep admiration for the creative process.

Beomgyu wasn’t just being patient with her—he genuinely seemed to enjoy this, treating their exchange like any other conversation.

She tapped her pen against the page before writing. What’s something really dumb that makes you happy?

Beomgyu’s face lit up as he read her question. “Oh, that’s easy,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “When I do laundry and actually find socks that match. It feels like a miracle every time.”

Y/N looked at him, amused, and wrote. That’s… really specific.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you saying that doesn’t make you happy? Matching socks are an underrated joy!”

She pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh and scribbled. I don’t hate it, but I wouldn’t call it a miracle.

He shook his head with mock disappointment. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m sitting here with a sock-matching hater.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled, tapping her pen before writing. I like it when my blanket and pillow are cold when I get into bed.

Beomgyu froze, his face suddenly serious. “Okay, that’s a good one. There’s nothing like that first cold spot under the blanket. But counterpoint—nothing is worse than getting out of bed when you’re nice and warm.”

Y/N sighed dramatically and wrote. Pain. True suffering.

He grinned at her response. “Right? Honestly, I’d stay in bed forever if it was socially acceptable.”

She shook her head, but her smile lingered as she underlined the word pain. The conversation wasn’t deep, but it didn’t have to be. For the first time in a long while, talking—well, writing—with someone felt easy.

After some time, Beomgyu glanced at his phone and sighed. “I should probably get going,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Didn’t realize how late it was.”

Y/N nodded, a bit reluctantly. She was glad they had spent time together, but part of her wished she didn’t have to say goodbye so soon. Still, the warmth from their conversation stayed with her, and she felt a small, content smile tugging at her lips.

Beomgyu stood up and grabbed his bag, looking at her one more time with a soft expression. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

Y/N reached for her notebook to write something, but before she could, Beomgyu waved it off. “You don’t have to write anything. I just… wanted you to know I’m happy we talked.”

Y/N smiled at him, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook before she tucked it away in her bag. 

Beomgyu looked at Y/N with a thoughtful expression, his voice softening. “Hey, do you need help getting home? It’s late, and I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by his concern. Her heart fluttered at the sincerity in his tone. She shook her head gently, signaling she was okay, though her hesitation lingered. It wasn’t often that someone cared enough to ask.

Beomgyu caught the brief pause in her reaction and nodded understandingly, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Alright. Just wanted to make sure.”

As he adjusted the strap of his bag, a thought seemed to strike him. He hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Actually, do you mind if I get your number? You know… in case you ever need help… or want to hang out, or even just talk.”

Y/N froze for a split second, caught off guard by the request but oddly comforted. After a moment, she reached out and gently took his phone, her fingers brushing his for just an instant. The warmth of the moment made her chest tighten, but she quickly typed in her number and handed it back.

“Thanks,” Beomgyu said, his grin widening as he glanced at the screen. “I’ll text you so you have mine, too. And seriously, let me know if you ever need anything. Oh, and… make sure you get home safe, okay?”

Y/N nodded, her heart lighter than it had been all day. She glanced up at him as he turned to leave, feeling an unexpected warmth in her chest. Just as he started to walk away, she found herself offering him a small, genuine smile—a gesture that felt monumental to her. Beomgyu paused when he caught it, his own smile softening, before he gave her a playful little wave and disappeared through the library doors.

As Y/N left the library, she hugged her bag close to her side, the notebook tucked safely inside. The cool night air nipped at her cheeks, making her quicken her steps toward the parking lot where her car waited. The campus was quiet at this hour, with only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of streetlights breaking the stillness.

Reaching her car, she unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat. The familiar quiet of the vehicle wrapped around her, a welcome reprieve after the unexpected emotional weight of the evening. She gripped the steering wheel loosely, taking a moment to sit there and reflect.

Her conversation with Beomgyu replayed in her mind. The way he smiled at her, the patience in his tone, and his genuine curiosity about her notebook—it was all so… different. Not many people had ever taken the time to truly try and understand her. But Beomgyu had, and he hadn’t made her feel strange for the way she communicated. If anything, he made her feel seen.

A small smile crept onto her lips. For once, she didn’t feel consumed by guilt or regret for how she handled things. Tonight had been a good step—one she could feel proud of. She had opened up, even just a little, and it hadn’t been as terrifying as she expected.

The thought of Beomgyu’s parting words warmed her chest. “I like talking to you—however you want to do it.” He meant it, didn’t he? It was hard to believe someone like him, so outgoing and confident, could be so patient with someone like her. And yet, he had been.

Her thoughts shifted to home, where her dad was likely waiting up for her, as he often did when she worked late or stayed out studying. She hated making him worry, but she also felt the need to take a moment for herself. Her fingers brushed against the strap of her bag, and she smiled again, this time a little wider.

Starting the car, Y/N let out a soft sigh as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tonight felt like the start of something new, something different—and for the first time, the thought didn’t completely terrify her.

The walk back to his dorm was a blur for Beomgyu, his mind still lingering on the evening. Their conversation had been so easy, yet so different from what he was used to. He had been surprised by how comfortable it felt to talk to her, even with the silence and the notebook. It made him think about her in ways he hadn’t before.

As he got back to his room, he pulled out his phone and immediately searched for: “How to help my shy friend,” “What do I do when my friend doesn’t talk,” “Social anxiety help,” “Friend doesn’t talk but I want to help.” His search was filled with questions that might seem silly to anyone else, but Beomgyu was determined to understand. He didn’t know exactly what Y/N’s situation was yet, but he could tell there was more to it than just being shy. He wanted to be the kind of friend who didn’t make things worse, the kind of person who could make her feel comfortable enough to open up without pressure.

He clicked on a few links and began reading, more focused than he had been in a while. He wasn’t sure where the research would lead him, but for the first time, it didn’t matter. He just wanted to make sure he did things the right way.

As time went on, Beomgyu ended up sprawled out on his bed, his laptop perched precariously on his knees. The bright screen was filled with open tabs, each one boasting headlines like "Understanding Social Anxiety" and "How to Support a Shy Friend Without Overstepping." He had even clicked on a thread titled "What to Do If Someone Doesn't Talk to You," though he quickly closed it after realizing it was mostly people venting about awkward first dates.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why is this so complicated?” he muttered to himself, scrolling through yet another article that felt more clinical than helpful.

Frustrated, he grabbed his phone and opened his messages. His thumb hovered over Taehyun’s contact for a second before he typed out a text:

Beomgyu: Hypothetically, if you had a really shy friend who doesn’t talk much, how would you make them feel comfortable? Trying to do some research.

It didn’t take long for Taehyun to reply.

Taehyun: Hypothetically? Or are we talking about an actual person here? Are you asking for yourself or writing an essay?

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and quickly typed back.

Beomgyu: Just answer the question, dude Taehyun: Depends. How shy are they? Beomgyu: Like… doesn’t talk. At all. Writes instead

Taehyun: Oh. That’s… different. Is this about someone you know?

Beomgyu hesitated before replying.

Beomgyu: Yeah. I just don’t want to do or say something wrong. I feel like they’re nervous around people, and I don’t want to make it worse

Taehyun’s response took a bit longer this time.

Taehyun: Alright, here’s the deal: don’t overthink it. Just treat them the way you already are. If they’re comfortable enough to communicate with you, that means you’re doing something right Beomgyu: What if I accidentally say something that upsets them? Taehyun: Then apologize. Seriously, Beomgyu, it’s not rocket science. You don’t need to handle them like glass. Just listen and don’t push them. Let them come to you at their own pace

Beomgyu frowned at the screen, rereading the messages. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Taehyun’s advice—it was good advice—but he still felt like there was more he should be doing.

Beomgyu: I guess that makes sense… I just don’t want them to feel like I don’t care Taehyun: You’re literally researching how to be a better friend to them. If they don’t see you care, they’re blind Beomgyu: Fair. Taehyun: Wait. Hold up. This wouldn’t happen to be a girl, would it?

Beomgyu’s stomach flipped as he read the text.

Beomgyu: What does that have to do with anything? Taehyun: Everything, bro. You don’t even put this much effort into group projects. If this isn’t a crush, I’ll eat my textbooks

Beomgyu groaned, his face heating up.

Beomgyu: It’s not like that! Taehyun: Sure. Keep telling yourself that

Despite the teasing, Beomgyu felt a little better. Taehyun had a way of grounding him while still making him feel like a complete idiot, and somehow, it always worked.

Beomgyu: Thanks, I guess Taehyun: Anytime. Now go to bed before you fry your brain. Your girl deserves better than a sleep-deprived Beomgyu Beomgyu: She’s NOT—ugh. Goodnight.

Beomgyu dropped his phone onto his chest with a sigh, Taehyun’s words replaying in his mind. It wasn’t like that… was it?

[bbydeathclaw]

Petulance

pairing: silco x fem!reader (nsfw)

AO3

summary: Silco sends you away to try to get some work done and you decide to be a horrendous little shit about it.

tags: fluff, smut, established relationship, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), good ol' mating press, teasing, bratty reader, simp silco

word count: 5.4k

adorably aesthetic mdni banner by @cafekitsune

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing in a looong while almost 10 years to be exact please don't look at me. but I had to get back into it with this shamelessly self indulgent fic of my favorite brooding king pin. I hope you enjoy!

Silco had thought it a bit odd at first, the ease with which you’d taken your leave from his office tonight. Ordinarily when he’d attempt to send you away in favor of getting his paperwork done in a more timely manner, you’d put up some form of sulky little protest.

An overemphasized pout coupled with a look of feigned sadness, eyebrows furrowed together when you’d offer to assist him with said work. Your reason being that it would ‘probably get done faster’ between the two of you. 

A lie, and a blatant one at that. You were, on all counts, absolutely shit at keeping your focus on any tasks he’d try to give you. You knew it. He most certainly knew it. Truly he’d wonder why you’d even bother offering at all if you just spent most of the time trying to distract him anyway. 

Still, he can’t say he isn’t amused by your actions. He finds these juvenile acts of yours terribly endearing for the most part, and even starts to look forward to them, knowing full well that he'll give in to just about anything if you’d simply ask it of him. 

Which is why he can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed when you don’t do any of this at all, and Silco starts to regret his idiotic suggestion entirely until you throw a cheeky smirk his way instead. 

“Alright, I think I’ll go bug Sevika for a bit.”

A single eyebrow quirk, followed by a low hum of approval. 

“I’m sure she’ll be positively thrilled by that,” he replies, suppressing a smirk of his own at the thought of his second in command being pestered by someone almost half her size. 

He’s still disheartened by your willingness to leave, but ultimately makes peace with it knowing that you’d more than likely return at some point. You give him a small wave with your fingers followed by a wink over your shoulder, and Silco doesn't hesitate to drag his gaze over your body shamelessly as it saunters out of his office.

About an hour passes, and the music coming from downstairs is just starting to pick up for the evening. You enter the room with a fluid sidestep, leaning back against the door once it closes behind you. His good brow raises slightly. “Back so soon?”

You don’t answer at first, instead making your way over to one of the tables in his office, like a cat quietly stalking about until something catches its interest. He watches you methodically as you settle for one of Jinx’s old trinkets that had been long discarded, carefully turning it over in your hand. “Sevika called me a menace.”

This time he makes no attempt to hide the subtle upturn from the corner of his lips. “I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with her, my dear.”

“She seems pretty cranky tonight.” 

“Hm, surely through absolutely no fault of your own.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in what he can only assume is an attempt to stifle a giggle before turning to face him with an adorably giddy expression that makes his chest tighten. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

So innocent, as if you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Silco doesn’t answer you verbally, merely bringing his forehead to rest against his hand and lifting the piece of paper he’s holding in the air with the other. The sullen face you make doesn’t go unnoticed by him as you turn to put the gadget back down with an airy sigh.

“Well,” you drag the word out. “I guess I’d better let you get back to it.”  

“Yes, that would be nice,” he says in turn, though it comes off more teasing rather than the displeasure he’s trying to convey. 

You study his face for another beat or two before you finally respond. “Okay, if that’s really what you want.” It’s not. Not even in the slightest. “I’ll go see if Thieram needs any help at the bar.”

“My love, Theiram is more than capable of handling his responsibilities as a bartender alone. It’s why I hired him, in fact.” He pauses. “Have you perhaps considered staying up here and behaving yourself, rather than looking for more ways to wreak havoc amongst my employees?” 

For a moment Silco thinks that he may be tipping his hand too soon, fearing that you’ve caught on to the fact that he’s basically been doing fuck all except sitting here and waiting for you to come back to his office. His suspicion only rises with the way you’re tilting your head and downright beaming at him with ill-disguised glee, like you’d been reading his every thought. 

“If I stayed up here it certainly wouldn’t be to behave myself.”

The paper he’s holding makes an audible crunch sound, his hand crumpling the edge of it faintly in response to your suggestive remark. 

Before he has the chance to reply with some snarky comment, you’re already heading towards the door, making a show of swaying your hips and giving him another view of the delicious swell of your backside before you take your leave again. His chair makes an audible groan as he leans back against it and lets out a lengthy sigh, running a hand through his hair and glancing down into his lap at the result of your seemingly endless torment.

Intolerable minx.

By the third time you make your way back up, only about half an hour has passed, and Silco’s all but given up on the prospects of getting any semblance of work done tonight. His thoughts being entirely permeated by you and the state you’d left him in. 

The Last Drop is in full swing now, and the liveliness of everything going on downstairs comes through the open door as you re-enter his office. However this time, he makes no effort to acknowledge your arrival, his chair now facing away from his desk, turned instead towards the large stained glass window that bathes him in a sickly, pale green light. All the noise from the club gets muffled when the door shuts once again, followed by the sound of purposeful footsteps making their way over to him.

“Welcome back,” he states flatly, trying to sound as disinterested as he can manage in his current predicament while he looks over his clipboard in a vain attempt at trying to salvage what was supposed to be a productive evening.

“Hello there, almighty Eye of Zaun,” you chime back with a playful lilt in your voice. “Did you miss me?”

Silco’s eyes tick upwards and stare blankly at the window straight ahead, actively suppressing the urge to let out another heavy sigh. You were going to be the death of him at this rate, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind. How you managed to be both so insufferable and still so unbelievably charming he’ll never quite understand. Before he has the chance to turn his chair with an already fixed scowl, he hears a faint thud behind him, the distinct sound of glass meeting wood only slightly muted by a soft shuffling of papers. 

A few seconds pass before Silco finally spins around to face you, seeing that a tumbler has been set down right on top of the paperwork he had been ruminating over all night. He’s also greeted by the sight of you already sitting in a chair directly in front of his desk, grinning from ear to ear. His heart swells at the sight and his scowl gradually melts away, only to be replaced by something more along the lines of skepticism when he takes in your expression fully. 

Your smile is accompanied by what appears to be a look of pure satisfaction, though he has no clue as to why. His non-discolored eye narrows at you, like a parent trying to figure out what misdeed their child has committed behind their back. 

Silco regards you warily for another moment, taking in every minute detail of your face in hopes of detecting something that might give you away while he reaches for the glass set in front of him. Ice clinks against the sides as he swirls it around before bringing it to his lips, taking a long sip followed by a hum of appreciation. His eyes shoot back up to meet yours, and finds you now biting your lip while trying, and failing, to suppress a huge grin. 

You’re definitely up to something, that much he’s certain of now, and the fact that he still can’t figure out what it is causes his previously feigned discontent to turn into more of a bubbling frustration, having just about enough of whatever game you’re playing. A fleeting thought crosses his mind as he glances down at the drink now dangling from his fingertips, then back up to you. 

Silco knows you’ve taken in the brief look of suspicion on his face when you let out a laugh that, despite the visible displeasure he's exuding towards you, is still one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard.

“I didn’t poison you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you quip, clearly amused at the implication.

“At this point I would be grateful if you did.”

You laugh again, but it comes out more like a short exhale through your nose along with a relaxed grin, taking a sip of your own beverage, and Silco’s good eye narrows at you once again. 

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No.”

Silence.

“Then what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

He practically glares at you for what feels like a considerable amount of time before it finally dawns on him that you haven’t left yet. 

“Did you need something darling? Or have you just come to find more ways to elicit whatever reaction you’ve been hoping for this evening?” Silco brings the tumbler to his mouth once more, letting it hover there momentarily in order to get the rest of his words out. “Because if the intended reaction was to see how far you can test my patience I can assure you-” 

Words die on his lips immediately when you make a move to stand, mismatched eyes shooting down to your waist to see what appears to be quite possibly the shortest skirt he’s ever seen you in, leaving so very little to the imagination.

He’s still holding the glass right up to his face while he watches you make your way around the only obstacle that separates the two of you before hopping onto one of the corners, your butt and thighs jiggling faintly when they make contact with the solid piece of furniture. “I just figured you could use a drink after such a long night of hard work. Is that so wrong?”

Silco tracks your movements with an almost predatory fixation, watching you lean back slightly to rest against your arms, crossing one leg over the other and he has to actively resist the urge to scoff. This thing is hardly covering anything, you’re essentially sitting there with your bare ass on his desk. The realization of that along with the sight of everything you’re showing has his cock hardening at an alarming rate.

You don’t seem to notice, or if you do you don’t say anything, eyebrows knitting together in a poorly disguised attempt at looking genuinely worried. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy to see me.” 

Silco sets the glass down onto his desk with a bit more force than intended, turning his chair to face all the way forward and bringing his mouth to rest against interlocked fingers. Any moment now he’s expecting you to hop right off that corner and make your way back downstairs, back to a place filled with depraved and perverted onlookers. 

Realistically he knows no harm would ever befall you while you were down in the Last Drop. All of his subordinates had been given clear instruction to keep a watchful eye on you at all times, and after a while a lot of them had started to do it less out of obligation and more so out of genuine care, especially Jinx and Sevika. 

Plus, he knows you can hold your own in a fight. Growing up in the undercity had hardened you just enough to make you a scrappy but formidable opponent. So logically speaking, Silco knows there's no safer place for you to be, but the thought of anyone other than himself seeing you in that, especially the less than respectable patrons that frequent his establishment nearly every night, makes his blood boil.

“Of course I'm happy to see you, my dear,” he retorts, turning his head to look over at you once more, eyes darting downwards to that indecent piece of fabric wrapped around your waist then back up to meet your gaze. “It's just that I'm seeing quite a lot of you at the moment, and if you go back downstairs, so will everyone else.” His last words come out strained as he shifts in his chair in a poor attempt to alleviate his growing erection.

“Oh, you mean my skirt? Is there…something wrong with it?” You lift your hips to take the tiniest of scoots towards him, and Silco’s eyes immediately hone in on the action. 

“Don’t be cheeky.”

Another scoot. “I’m afraid that can’t be helped, especially in this.”

At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if you really are trying to kill him, taking controlled and steady breaths while he attempts to suppress his growing ire in response to such a ridiculous question. Of course there’s something wrong with it. Silco’s sure he’d nearly be able to see the soft outline of your mound if you were to spread your legs, even in the slightest.

He lets out another deep breath before picking up his pen and casually scribbling his signature on one of the invoices strewn about in front of him. “You will not be going back down there like that.”

He’s not looking at you, but Silco can see the movements of you moving closer out of the corner of his unmarred eye.

“Are you..asking me to stay?” 

He doesn’t respond, instead electing to take another piece of paper to scrawl his name at the bottom offhandedly. He knows what you’re playing at, the fact that it took him so long to realize it irks him to no end. He wouldn’t mind answering honestly and just telling you that yes, he does want you to stay, but the thought of giving into your bratty little antics this evening doesn’t sit quite right with him. 

Which is why he makes the conscious decision to ignore you as you move close enough to where your upper leg is now narrowly brushing his elbow, the shift causing him to mess up the tail end of another signature. Silco chances a glance towards the movement and regrets it almost immediately when he takes in the soft curve of your thigh, his cock twitching painfully at the sight.

He makes his second mistake when he follows the tantalizing trail of your body upwards and is met with the most unabashed, shit eating grin plastered across your face. He has to force himself to look away, the hand not holding his pen coming up to drag his long fingers back and forth across his mouth as he contemplates the idea of sending you away all together, leaving you pouty and disappointed. And for a moment he comes close to doing just that, until he makes the grave error of risking a glance up at your face again.

You’re not smiling anymore, expression replaced by something far more lustful and serious. Silco simply stares as your tongue slides out to pull your bottom lip in between your teeth before gently nudging his elbow with your knee. He doesn’t hesitate in dropping his arm to offer you the space in front of him, and you slide over gracefully. He stays perfectly still while you plant a foot atop each of the armrests of his ornate chair, knees pressed tightly together.

He finally responds to your earlier question with one of his own. 

“What would possibly give you that idea?” His voice is light and teasing, all traces of anger gone. “You’ve been nothing short of a nightmare all evening, love. And now this?” Fingertips come up to stroke the side of your calf, humming appreciatively.  “What am I going to do with you?”

This earns Silco a wide, toothy grin as you scoot forward. “Whatever do you mean? I’m just sitting here.”

“Don't be coy with me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, breath fanning over your knees as he speaks. “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” knees parting just barely, “to answer my question.”

Silco pushes his tongue against his cheek in minor annoyance before sliding both hands up your legs and over your knees, then back down until he reaches your hips. He grips firmly at the supple flesh and yanks you closer towards him, eliciting a sharp squeak followed by a string of giggles.

“I think you might be the most aggravating creature I’ve ever had the displeasure of courting.”

Your face adorns a look of mock appreciation. “Awe, thank you!”

Slender hands travel back up to your knees. “Truly just a tantalizing little menace.” He waits for you to part them further, granting him the access he’s so desperately craving. “One that I’m both drawn to and irritated by all at once.”

Your smile is nothing short of haughty, as if you’re truly taking everything he’s telling you as a compliment. “Well now you’ve really got me hot and bothered,” you shoot back, knees moving further away from each other until you’re spread all the way open for him.

Although spoken in a sarcastic tone, Silco sees that your words are in fact true, his eyes taking in the sight of your already dripping cunt.

“Indulge me, sweetheart,” he says, one hand coming up to trace the backs of your thighs with his knuckles, causing goosebumps to decorate your soft skin. “Why the need to be so difficult tonight?” 

You shiver at the touch, bottom lip still tucked between your teeth as he brings a thumb up to stroke lazily over your pussy. 

“J-just for fun,” you retort, but your voice doesn’t hold the same conviction. “Wanted to see..how long it would take.”

“How long what would take?”

The laugh you let out is shaky at best, but there’s still a bit of confidence left when you answer. “For you to ask me to stay.”

It only takes about half a second before Silco’s thumb pushes into your core and his tongue cards a long, hot stripe along your folds. The noise you make spurring him on further as his mouth envelopes your clit, giving it a harsh suck before pulling away with a satisfying wet plop sound.

“I don’t recall asking anything of the sort,” he chides, sliding his thumb back out. “If memory serves me correctly, you came into my office several times practically demanding my attention.”

Silco punctuates his last few words by pushing two fingers into you, pulling another sharp inhale from your lips as he turns his palm to face upward and curls them inside of you.

“Has it ever occurred to you,” he starts, bringing his thumb to circle against your now swollen clit, drawing a long whine out of you as you work your hips against him. “..that perhaps I attempt to send you away in order to finish with my tasks quickly, just so I can get back to doting on you with said attention? Selfish little creature.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, speaking between shallow breaths. “You.. could have just.. said that.. you know.”

Silco smirks, watching you look back at him with a pair of pleading eyes. “And deny myself the pleasure of seeing your lovely pouts and open displays of petulance?” He adds a third finger. “I think not.” 

“Silco,” you whine, “please.”

His cock twitches in response, and he doesn’t waste any time bringing his mouth back down to your bud and swirling his tongue around it lavishly while his fingers twist and turn inside of you. He watches you throw your head back, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip the edge of the desk above your head, the other coming to latch onto the top of his head hard as you roll your hips against him. 

“There, that’s it,” he coos, “show me how eager you are. Use me.” 

This draws another string of small gasps and moans from you, coupled with lewd, wet, slurping sounds as Silco continues to lap and suck at your clit, bringing his free hand to grip your thigh and anchor you to him. The strain in his pants grows increasingly more painful when you sigh his name affectionately, followed by a noise of protest when he removes his fingers from you all together in an effort to tug at intricate buttons of his trousers, freeing his aching cock and palming himself to the sight of your ruined state. 

Your arousal coating his fingers serves as a welcome lubricant for him to stroke himself languidly, relishing in the feeling of you bucking up into him, using him to chase your own end. His licks are hot and thorough, leaving no part of your heat untouched.

“Yes,” Silco groans into you, “just like that.”  

Your other hand comes down to unbutton your top, cupping and squeezing at one of your breasts, and he knows you’re close by the way you’re begging and pleading above him. The sound of your voice feeds into his determination, letting go of his cock in order to wrap both arms around your thighs, securing you in place and devouring you like a starved man.

The way you cry out his name while your walls flutter around his tongue has him reeling, mismatched eyes boring into you, watching your orgasm in complete reverence as your fluids run down his chin.

“Good girl,” Silco sighs, his movements slowing down to let you ride out your climax. “You always make such sweet sounds for me.” 

Your legs tremble and the vicelike grasp you have on his hair loosens before you slump back down onto his desk, words barely managing to come through your short and labored breaths.

“Could've been making them a lot earlier if you’d…stop trying to kick me out.”

A hint of a smile creeps up on his face as he presses small, feather light kisses up the backs of your thighs, leaving glistening spots of your slick behind in their wake. “You know, it is possible to keep your unsolicited remarks to yourself every once in a while.”

Yours breaks into a devious grin that tugs at his heart without mercy. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” 

“Mmm, point taken.” 

Silco stands to turn your body so that you’re taking up the full length of his desk before climbing up onto it and bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His length bobs thick and heavy with need, bringing it to rest against your slit.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You roll your hips against him needily, coating his cock with your arousal. “Maybe.”

“You drive me absolutely mad,” he growls, voice dripping with carnal hunger as he pushes your legs up against your chest once again, lining himself up with your entrance. And it’s the way you're looking up at him with your lip tucked in between your teeth in anticipation, the slight inward curl of your eyebrows in an almost pleading expression that has him pushing into you in one, smooth buck forward, making you gasp as he bottoms out inside of you.

Silco sees your eyes roll back, and he has to physically stop himself from doing the same. He wants to see it all, wants to see your blissed out expression while he fucks you, wants to see all the different ways he can make you come undone beneath him.

You make a pitiful attempt at stifling a moan, one that ultimately fails when Silco starts to rock his hips against yours, pulling them back slowly and savoring the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls before driving them forward with a sharp, pointed thrust. But he’s right there with you, exhaling a throaty groan at the feeling of your walls engulfing him so deliciously, the sensation being nothing short of divine.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he whispers, lowering his head and tilting it to place gentle kisses along your jawline before nipping at your earlobe. “Like we were made for each other.”

The breathy whine this elicits causes him to straighten himself upright again, picking up his pace steadily, and soon the room is filled with the obscene, wet smacking of skin against skin as Silco begins to pump into you with feral-like need. He readjusts your legs so that your calves are hooked over his shoulders, letting him fuck you so much deeper. 

You’re a mess of broken pleas beneath him, and he clings to every single one, a symphony meant solely for him and him alone. Silco watches you with wholly, unabashed devotion as your face twists and contorts in pleasure, pleasure that only he can bring you. And though he wants to feel like he’s still in control, he knows deep down he’s equally ruined by what you do to him, maybe even more so. His seafoam eye glazes over, and strands of hair fall loosely around his face as he ruts into you. 

You reach up and try to put your arms around his neck, but the position your legs are in only allow you to claw at his shoulders helplessly. “S-silco, please..”

“Oh? I see someone’s finally learned some manners,” he taunts.

The huff of annoyance you let out amuses him more than he’d care to admit, “For fuck’s sake, Sil. Let me hold you.”

“Demanding thing,” he scolds, but gives into your ‘request’ regardless, lowering your legs just enough so that your knees fall to the side and hook over his forearms, letting you wrap your arms around his neck with open urgency. And now you’re pulling him down and holding him there, like the waters he'd nearly drowned in.

Silco’s jaw goes slack as he turns his head and pants in your ear like some wild beast, whose sole purpose is to bring you to your end. Like it was all he was ever made for. Your head turns to meet his lips with your own, and he tries to keep some semblance of restraint while he kisses you, but he can’t, not with you. It’s hungry and sloppy, full of exceeding desperation. 

He breaks the kiss reluctantly to make his way down to your neck, lips and tongue moving against the delicate flesh and littering your throat with marks of all kinds, leaving no room for anyone to question who you belong to. “Mine,” Silco snarls possessively in between sucks and bites.

He's about to pull away when one of your hands slides up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and locking him in place, begging for more, more, more, and Silco’s more than happy to oblige. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger so tightly, and this realization both excites and ruins him as he begins to ram everything he has into you with new purpose.

“Oh fuck, Silco. Right there,” you cry out, voice becoming raspy and hoarse from your continuous gasps in between moans. 

"Yes, that's it. Show me how much you want this, how much you need this," he huffs out through gritted teeth, trying to establish some form of dominance once again, but it's no use when he realizes his words are just as applicable to him as they are to you.

He forgoes his hold on your legs, letting them fall to your sides briefly before wrapping them around his waist. Your eyes flutter shut and your head starts to loll to the side, but Silco grabs your jaw quickly and forces you to look directly at him.

“None of that, darling. I want you to look at me when you come undone,”  His breath comes out ragged and primal. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?”

You nod frantically in response, eyes drifting downward to stare at his mouth, like a silent plea. He takes the hint without delay, squishing your cheeks together until your lips form a small pout before leaning down to kiss you fervently. His tongue swirls around yours, hot and wanting, before he pulls away just enough for him to pant into your open mouth, his connecting to yours by the thinnest string of saliva. 

Silco can sense your second orgasm approaching rapidly, and he brings his fingers towards your lips. You take the hint right away, wrapping them around his digits and sucking on them lavishly. Once he’s satisfied enough, he removes them and snakes his hand down through your intertwined bodies, settling for the bundle of nerves located between your legs.

Your moans increase in pitch, arms and legs squeezing even tighter around him as he works you with skilled flicks of his wrist.

“You’ve endured this so well, my love,” he whispers against your ear, voice laced with unrestrained hedonism and resolve. “Let’s reward all that effort of yours tonight, shall we?”

His question is rhetorical, but you nod so eagerly for him nonetheless as your walls begin to pulsate, clenching so unbelievably tight around him you’re practically pushing his cock out, nearly sending him over the edge himself.  

“That’s my girl,” he sighs with heavy grit and worship. “You feel incredible.”  

Silco’s face comes back up to hover over yours, looking directly into your eyes while he fucks you through your climax, his own looming closer and closer. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your labored breaths greedily as his thrusts begin to stagger before coming to a complete halt, his pelvis flush against yours as his cock twitches obscenely within your heat. He lets out a harsh, guttural moan right into your mouth as he spills into you, your walls continuing to milk him with stuttered squeezes, and he has to pull away sharply to exhale a series of delirious gasps. 

Your chests heave against one another, waves of pleasure slowly dissipating as your sweat soaked bodies stay interlocked. Silco shifts slightly, bringing his hands to stroke the top of your head lazily with his fingertips. His forehead comes to rest against yours as he places soft, tender kisses along your cheeks, your eyes, your lips, anything within reach.

He’s rewarded with a giggle, followed by a dopey little grin.

“You know,” you say as your breaths finally return to normal. “I just remembered the other reason you try to send me away while you work.”

Silco already knows the answer, but you punctuate your words anyway by wiggling your ass, causing the sound of his paperwork shuffling beneath you, followed by a light yelp as he smacks your bottom lightly. 

“Impossible little wench,” he chastises, lifting himself off of you and being greeted once again by the sight of the thing you keep referring to as a ‘skirt’. He grabs the edge of it with his fingertips, holding it up like it was a cursed object. “Where in Janna’s name did you even get this from?”

You bark out a laugh before propping yourself up hastily to look down at it with pride. “Ran let me borrow it.”

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

“Borrow it,” he repeats, “as in you have every intention of giving it back to them?”

You stare at him for a moment, no doubt mulling over your answer.

“...No?”

Silco smirks at your response before leaning in. “Good girl. Besides, I think we may find many more uses for it still.”

Your eyes widen with child-like wonder, but for the entirely wrong reason. “Oh, so you’ll wear it for me, too?”

He stares back at you blankly, blinking several times before rolling his eyes almost theatrically, earning him another small fit of laughter as he finally graces you with a response.

“Whatever pleases you, I suppose.” 

[dollfacefantasy]

Meant to be Broken ♡

pairing: corrupt cop!naoya zenin x fem!reader

summary: on your way home from work, you accidentally hit naoya zenin with your car. you believe you're in huge trouble when you find out he's a police officer. luckily (or unluckily) for you, he has a few ways you can make it up to him in mind.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, car sex, misogyny (it's naoya lol)

word count: 3k

a/n + tags: comm for the bestie @nexysworld @gor3-hound picture of naoya by @/sso_s__ on twt

Your fingers thrum against the steering wheel as your car glides along the road. You match the beat of the music playing in the background. It's a good distraction for you. It was a nice enough day out, but your mind wasn't as sunny and serene.

You'd had a shitty day at work. You woke up late and got shit from your boss for it. Your computer wouldn't log in, so you had to work at the outdated one towards the back of the office under a drafty vent. On top of that, you had a killer headache. You really just wanted to get home.

The sun was setting over the horizon in the distance, the sky a pretty hue of pink. You take it in while making the turn into your neighborhood. Only a few hundred yards till you could pull into your garage and walk into the comfort of your home. You just have to get down one more street.

You're making the final turn on your route. You can nearly feel the soft fabric of your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt when there's a blur in front of your windshield and a sound thud against the hood of your car. You slam on the brakes as fast as humanly possible, jerking yourself hard against the seat. Whipping the car into park, you sit there for a moment. There was no fucking way you just hit someone. If asked, you would swear on everything that no one had been crossing.

After a couple moments, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out. Your movements are a little slow, simply for the fact that you're still questioning if this is some kind of joke.

You round the front of your car and gasp at the sight before you. You'd actually hit someone. A man lies crumpled up near the bumper, writhing in pain.

"Oh- Oh my God. Are you ok?" you ask him. You rush over and crouch behind him.

He turns to face you, and your heart drops. His face is stained with scarlet, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead. He's got a nasty scowl aimed at you too.

"What do you think?" he snaps. You're pretty sure you hear him grumble something about how of course it was a woman that hit him, but you can't be sure. Your pulse is pounding in your ears too loud to focus on mumbling.

"Jesus, I'm so so sorry," you say.

"Instead of wasting your time with apologies, you could try helping me up," he says.

"You're right. My bad. Here," you say, offering your hand. He takes it but doesn't stop glowering at you for a second.

You help him to his feet again. Once he's stable, he lets go of your palm and wipes it on his pants. A bit rude, but you supposed you deserved it.

"Are you hurt? Could I take you to a hospital or anything?" you ask. 

You try to sound as sweet as possible. He could be as pissy as he wanted, you were just praying to any higher power you could think of that he wouldn't sue you.

He simply rolls his eyes at your question. Your cheeks burn, and you awkwardly avert your eyes. You notice he'd dropped his wallet on the asphalt, so you reach down to retrieve it for him. Once you pick it up, your blood runs cold. Inside the wallet is a shiny silver star. A police badge.

Panic runs through you. The last thing you needed was a ticket, let alone a criminal charge. Your eyes dart up to him. He's wearing the smuggest grin you'd ever seen.

"Officer. Sir, I am so so sorry. Again, please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. It was my stupid mistake. I swear, I'm normally a super safe driver," you say.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's cute how you little girls try to get out of trouble once you see how helpless you really are," he taunts.

You're speechless. If he was going to be like this, you were truly fucked.

"Don't tell me that's all you have for an apology. I've heard better from a mute," he says.

"I really didn't mean to hit you. Please, I'm just having a really bad day," you start timidly, but he cuts you off.

"Stand up. You look like a bitch begging for scraps down on your knees like that," he says, flicking two fingers to beckon you up.

You rise quickly at the command. You hated obeying a total asshole like him, but he held so much in his hands right now. There was nothing to do but follow along.

"There we go," he says and brings his hand to your face. It runs down your jawline to your chin. He tilts your face around, getting a look at you from all angles. "You're cute. No wonder you hit me."

Confusion flickers through your eyes. "What's that mean?" you ask as non-confrontational as you can manage.

"Well you know what they say: a pretty face or a brain, women don't get both," he mocks.

Now it's your turn to scowl. You can't even help it. The expression shows itself before you have the chance to hide it. Your previous mindset shatters in a matter of seconds.

"I didn't hit you cause I'm a woman. I hit you cause you darted into the street," you say.

His eyes brows raise with amusement, and the urge to bicker with him dwindles inside you.

"Really?" he asks, "Are you high then? Drunk maybe? Those are the only other reasons why you'd make such an egregious error."

Internally your blood pressure rises, but externally you keep it cool. "I promise it's neither. It was an accident. I just didn't see you," you explain.

"An accident? I don't know if I believe that," he tuts, "Before you said mistake. That could imply some intention."

"Accident and mistake mean the same thing," you dispute with a little desperation.

"I don't know... changing your story, cause to suspect intoxication, arguing with an officer. Things aren't looking good for you. I have reason to write you up at the very least," he chides.

"Please don't," you practically beg, "I'm sorry for arguing, but I swear on everything that I'm not on anything and it was absolutely not my intention to hit you with my car. Please there has to be something I can do."

That grin from earlier spreads across his face again. "I suppose there's a few things you could do. Don't think we should talk about them in the middle of the street though."

"Oh um, did you want me to pull my car to the side of the road?" you ask.

"Sounds like a good start, don't you think?" he asks.

You nod and quickly turn around to hop back in the car. Alone in the interior, you let out a shaky breath. You had a feeling as to what was coming. It wasn't ideal, but you guessed it was better than hundreds of dollars for a ticket or thousands on bail. Maybe he didn't get laid often with an attitude like that, and you could make him cum quick.

You drive a little way down the street before putting the car in park again. It crossed your mind to speed off and drive away, but you'd bet your life he had your license plate by now. You let out a final deep sigh before the backdoor opens, and he slides into the car.

"Get in the back with me," he says.

You obey again, opening your door and transferring to the rear seats of your vehicle. You look over at him with a mix of apprehension and annoyance. It entertains him all the more.

"You look like you know what I want," he says.

"I have a pretty good guess," you say, your voice quiet compared to his.

He leans in closer to you, nuzzling the side of your head and taking in your scent.

"You get yourself in this kind of situation often?" he asks before nipping at your earlobe sharply.

You wince and pull away slightly. His hand comes up and keeps your head close before you can move too far away though.

"No," you scoff.

"Good," he chuckles.

Despite his pretty face, everything about this moment is absolutely vile. He teases your ear and down your neck with a mixture of his lips and teeth. Simultaneously, his hands slide up your body to fondle your breasts. He gropes the mounds haphazardly, digging his fingers into them a bit too hard.

"You got nice tits, I'll give you that. Think I should've frisked you first," he whispers, "Maybe taken you back to the station for a strip search. Though then some of the other guys would've wanted a turn, and I don't like sharing my toys."

You scowl and look in the other direction. He was repulsive, but at the same time, some heat was beginning to pool in your belly from the combined touches of his mouth and hands. Though just as you're coming to enjoy the sensations, he takes them away. He pulls back from you, his hand going to the hardening bulge in his pants instead.

"I wanna try out that cute mouth first. I know there's a better use for it than talking," he says.

He's quick to undo his fly and whip his cock out. He gives it a few lazy strokes. It's pretty like everything else on him, the head already starting to glisten with pearly white precum.

He smirks at you taking in the sight. "What're you waiting for? I don't have all night."

Reluctantly, you get on your knees on the bench and lean forward. Your fingers wrap around the lower half while your mouth engulfs the top portion. The salty liquid spreads over your tongue, and your eyes flutter shut.

You hear him grunt from above you. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head and pushes you down a little more. You suck him deeper, laving your tongue against the underside of his cock.

"There you go. Take it," he moans quietly.

You tune him out and begin to bob your head. Soft slurping noises come from your mouth. Your hand lazily strokes the base. He was long enough to give you a little challenge but not thick enough to present a real struggle. You pick up a little speed, still wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.

He hums with satisfaction and relaxes against the smooth leather seats. His head tilts back and a low, whiny purr leaves his lips. You give his dick a gentle squeeze and suckle on the tip, letting some of your drool dribble down to his balls.

His hips buck up at the onslaught of sensations, and you gag a little. The noise isn't too loud, but he hears it. His eyes glow with desire at the thought of making you do it again.

His hands find their place on either side of your head. He acts as if he's guiding you at first, but he doesn't have the patience to truly ease you into having your face fucked. Before you can really register it, his hips start to thrust upward. His tip rams against the back of your throat, his shaft sliding between your lips over and over.

You give him what he wants and gag again. Spit seeps from between your lips onto his length. Your eyes water as he forces his cock as deep as physically possible.

"Think your throat was made for this. With lips like yours, it has to be," he mutters.

He keeps going, using your mouth as his fleshlight for the next minute or so. Your nose is nestled against his pelvis before he finally yanks your head off and sits you up again.

You're a bit dizzy when you're upright again. It's a relief to get a full breath of oxygen without the obstruction of him in your throat. He laughs quietly at the dazed look on your face, your teary eyes, and your saliva-coated lips.

"You liked that, hm? Think you needed it more than I did," he mocks.

You don't give him any indication either way. You're occupied with your vision coming back into complete focus.

"Now, face down ass up for me," he commands.

You go to move, but then pause and stare at him.

"In the car?" you ask uncertainly.

"Yes, in the car," he says, "It's cute how you ask that as if you have a choice."

"But- but why? I could make you cum if you lemme use my mouth a little more," you offer, but he shoots you down.

"I don't want your mouth. I pulled you off for a reason. I want a taste of that pussy before I cum. If you know how to give a blowjob like that, you must have something worthwhile between your legs," he says.

It's hard to fight off the heat creeping to your cheeks after hearing that. But you still don't move just yet.

"But someone could see... that's more obvious," you try to reason.

"Yeah? And what's anyone gonna do about it besides live with the knowledge that you're a slut?" he asks.

Just like that, you're really reminded of what this situation is. You flip over and pull down the clothing on your lower half to expose your cunt to him.

A whistle comes from behind you. You feel his hand come up to cup one of your ass cheeks. He drags his thumb up and down your folds, feeling the small amount of arousal that had collected there from giving him a blowjob. He dips the digit inside for a moment before pulling it out again. He just wanted to hear the sweet little noise you'd make. He wasn't disappointed by the whine he received.

"Are you on the pill?" he asks.

"Mhm," you hum.

"Clean?"

"Yes," you scoff.

Your attitude amuses him. It doesn't discourage him from rising to his knees behind you in the slightest. He balances himself on the seats before nudging his tip at your entrance and sliding in. The both of you moan and groan at the feeling.

Your nails claw at the seams of your seats as he sinks all the way in. He grabs your hips and makes sure you can't squirm away. He goes in until he bottoms out, completely wrapped in the warm wetness of your tight heat.

He doesn't give you time to adjust before he begins thrusting. He starts rocking right away, chasing his own pleasure like it's running from him. Your cheek rubs against the leather as he bumps you back and forth. You can tell the car is shaking from his movements, you just hope it's not too obvious to anyone who passes by. Though it wouldn't really matter. Even if they didn't see the car's motion, they'd surely spot the silhouette of the man in the backseat.

"Fuck," he whines, "You're tight. Think this might feel better than that mouth of yours."

You simply mewl in response. His cock was sliding deep, reaching all the little spots that didn't get as much attention as they needed. Your breathing turns to panting which only makes Naoya thrust harder.

"There you go, puppy. I knew you'd like it. This is what you're good for," he says as he continues pistoning himself inside you.

You try to hold in your shameful moan, but it slips out anyways. Your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut, rolling back behind the lids. From above, Naoya continues speaking. You're pretty sure he gets off to the sound of his own voice.

"I could've fucked you right in the middle of the street and made you thank me for it," he grunts, "You would've done it too, you little whore. Knew from the moment I saw you that you'd let me do anything I wanted."

You whimper because in a way, that was partially true. You gasp as you start to get closer. He smacks your ass hard while he continues rutting into you.

"Dumb slut. Not so concerned with people seeing now that you're about to cum, huh?" he taunts.

Shaking your head in agreement, you press your cheek further against the seat. You'd have preferred if you could at least maintain the story that he didn't make you cum, but it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. And honestly at this point, you felt too good to care.

He knows that he's getting close too. He can feel how his dick is pulsing with the need to empty his balls, fuck you full of his load.

He goes faster, gripping your hips strong enough to bruise. He's going so fast that it's like a blur. That's what pushes you over the edge. You clamp up on his cock which in turn causes ecstasy to spike through him and drag him to the finish line.

The two of you cum in tandem, you gushing on his cock and him stuffing you with his release. Even with your disdain for him, being fucked full of cum gives you the warm feeling of satisfaction. By the time he's finished, you're practically a puddle in your backseat.

He pulls out quickly, not caring to let you adjust to the emptiness as you would have preferred. He doesn't rub your back after or tell you that you did good. Doesn't let you curl up to his side or stroke your head. He simply pulls his pants up again and wipes the sweat from his brow.

He glances at your fucked out state. It brings him nearly as much satisfaction as his actual orgasm had, seeing how totally ruined you were.

Patting your ass, he scoots to the door and steps out.

"Have a good night, miss. Make sure you watch out for any pedestrians on your way home," he says, imitating a professional tone.

And with that, he’s gone, leaving you to scrape yourself back together.

[ataleofcrowns]

Hey! I love AToC and have been following its development for a few years now. But whenever a new chapter was released, and I sat down to read it, I often found it hard to carve out time to do so. So, it got me thinking - if it’s hard for me to read it consistently, how much more difficult must it be to write it consistently? It is admirable the act of writing this takes, And while I’m sure there are slower periods in the whole process, it’s inspirational how you dedicate time to writing. I write sometimes, definitely not a lot, and I want to dabble in a few short stories. So, how do you put in that time or really cultivate that habit of writing - especially when pesky "IRL logistics" get in the way? Are there any specific rituals or routines that help overcome such circumstantial challenges? I’ve been in a bit of a rut with the pen lately, and honestly, hearing anything - whether it’s how you approach sitting down to write or just your thoughts on the process - would be incredibly helpful at best and, at the very least, really interesting to hear! Appreciate you sharing your thoughts if you’re able :p

I take an ice bath, chug 6 cans of energy drink back to back, sit down and white knuckle my desk while yelling "LOCK IN" and write 10k words in one hour-

Ok but seriously, I appreciate the ask!! 💖

And honestly it's just a matter of forming the habit, at least for me. I try to write at the same time every day. For me that's in the evenings since I'm more productive at night, but other people might feel more productive in the morning or the afternoon, it all depends! Once it becomes a habit it's much easier to switch your brain to Writing Mode around the same time every day.

When you first start trying to form the habit, don't be down on yourself if you don't get a lot of writing done at first. Try to write things that pique your interest, even if the scenes or snippets aren't in chronological order. Getting something on the page is what's most important!

Also, don't be too hard on yourself while writing, and try not to edit while you write either. This is a bad habit I used to have that I had to unlearn because of my perfectionism, but it's perfectly fine to have a bare bones first draft that you can return to filling out later. Your first draft is not supposed to be perfect, so just focus on writing it first, and evaluating it later.

And write what you feel inspired to write! Like, sometimes I can't be bothered to write out descriptions or character actions, but I get inspired to write a certain conversation between characters, so I literally skip all the descriptive words and only write out the dialogue. Other times I feel inspired by worldbuilding that I want to add, or an environment that I really want to describe, so I write snippets for that, etc.

I also like setting wordcount goals for myself because I get a dopamine boost when I hit the target and it feels like I accomplished something. If you go that route, start out small! Like 250 words every day for example, and as you get into it, bump it up little by little. It also feels good if you go over your wordcount goal, at least for me.

Some other minor things that have helped me: putting on background music (ymmv), removing all potential distractions by closing everything on my pc and fullscreening my writing program, ensuring I have a place where I can write uninterrupted, drinking my favorite tea, motivating myself with rewards for once I hit my wordcount goal (snacks/video games/watching a show).

I hope any of this is useful for you!!

[cherrykpawp]

Heat // Ch 4

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

Pairings: Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, San x reader, Wooyoung x reader, Yeosang x reader, hinted San x Wooyoung, hinted Mingi x Yeosang, hinted San x Mingi, hinted Wooyoung x Yeosang, hinted San x Yeosang

This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, slow burn, fluff, angst, Dance instructor!Yunho, Owner!Yunho, Vet doctor!Hongjoong, Vocal professor!Jongho, Calico hybrid!reader, Black cat hybrid!San, Husky hybrid!Mingi

W.C: 7.4k

Something in the air felt different, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You felt normal, the day seemed normal, your breakfast was normal, San and Mingi were usually abnormal, so in your terms, normal. But you weren’t focusing like you should’ve. Yunho invited his friend, a vocal professor, to offer you lessons today since Yunho left to teach his dance classes this morning. The vocal professor stopped by about ten minutes ago, setting up his equipment for you, but you were too sensitive to how bright it was outside and how loud the cars seemed outside. Someone’s car alarm kept blaring, aggravating you, but it's not like you were going out there to stop it.

“Y/n-ssi, are you listening?” Jongho waved a hand in front of your face, bringing you back to earth. Jongho’s just as handsome as everyone else you've met so far, greeting you with a gummy smile. He wore a long, sleek black jacket with leather collars and had a crest fixed on it; he was a well-known singer and songwriter. Underneath his coat, he had a black button-up that had been tucked into his slacks. Although you couldn't see much about his body since he was modestly covered, you could tell he was strong by how he flexed his arm through the coat. It tightened around his bicep tastefully. He also had a visible beauty mark on his neck, and his hair was jet-black and fluffy.

“Yes, I’m sorry. That car noise is bothering me,” you massaged your temples, slapping your cheeks to focus. Your cat ears were in airplane mode the whole time you’ve been up, you just hadn’t noticed yet.

Jongho’s brows furrowed, perplexed, “car noise?” He doesn’t hear it? It sounds like it's right out the door. “I always forget hybrids have heightened senses than the normal human,” he chuckled. Shortly after, though, the car’s blaring stopped. “Let me know if I should turn down the keyboard’s volume so it doesn’t hurt your ears.”

“No problem,” your head cocked to the side, fully focusing now. You both sat at the dining room table, a portable keyboard in front of Jongho. San and Mingi were in their rooms so they wouldn’t distract you, Jongho’s words, not yours.

Jongho played a measure of chords expertly on the keyboard, ensuring it worked. “Before we get started, tell me, what’s you’re favorite song to sing? Or favorite song overall?”. There were a million songs that came to mind, but you couldn’t think of one right away. 

But you suddenly thought of your old owner, “Magnolia by Laufey.” 

Jongho formed an ‘o’ with his lips, interested. “What a lovely song. Do you mind singing a bit so I can hear your vocal range?”

You were nervous since he’s a music professor and probably way better than you, but he's here to teach and help you. Plus, it’s only the two of you there, so you began singing the first note. He listened to you carefully, swaying his head side to side at the song, playing along. He let you sing the whole song, considering the song was pretty short. When you finished, you opened your eyes, not realizing how entranced you were with the entire thing. He began clapping for you, making you smile.

“You have a beautiful vocal tone, y/n, truly,” he complimented you first, “You are a mezzo-soprano, so you suited this song perfectly.” You didn’t know what a mezzo-soprano was until he explained it to you; your voice is between a soprano and contralto, it’s a more common vocal tone.

“We’re going to do a couple of vocal techniques to bring your voice to its fullest potential. Whether you decide to make this a career or to sing occasionally, singing is a beautiful hobby. I’m biased myself,” Jongho commented, playing the first chord, “repeat after me”.

He hummed a scale for you to follow, which you did perfectly. He pressed a higher-pitched chord and hummed the same scale in a slightly higher register, copying him. Jongho made you do those exercises several times before moving on to the next vocal technique. It was called a ‘Lip bubble technique’, almost like mimicking a car engine. It seemed silly to you at first, but it was a genuine technique, so you followed suit, doing the same scales in the same registers as before. Jongho taught you other techniques, including relaxing your voice, posture, diction, holding your breath, hissing through your teeth, and vocal fry. 

“When I’m not here, you can practice these techniques until our next lesson”, Jongho wrote down a list of things for you to do the whole time the lessons. “We will be practicing a song that you want to get better at so that you, or we if you’re nervous, can perform in front of Yunho, San, and Mingi. Is there a song out there that you have difficulty singing?”.

“‘Is it a crime?’ by Sade. I have difficulty hitting her lower notes, but I love that song a lot.”

“It may be because she's naturally a controlto but with enough skill and improvement, you can sing her song in your range. You don’t have to sound exactly like her, as long as the notes come off comfortably”, Jongho reassured you. “We’ll start with the first verse.” He listens as you sing the first two sentences, playing along to the song. You watch as he presses the same key about three times, “You're up here, go down an octave like this.” You listen as he effortlessly shows you an example. You haven’t heard him sing yet, but if this is how he sounds from a scale, you 

will be more than impressed. But you attempted at it, not moving from it until Jongho approved for you to continue, “Great, keep that feeling when you're about to hit a lower register.”

Jongho helped you practice at least the second chorus, stopping at times to help you fix certain parts. He had you repeat the verses and chorus until it sounded smoother than originally. He jotted down things in his notes and yours as reminders of techniques for certain sections. When you finished the second chorus about three different times, his timer went off, cursing at how time flew. He tore the paper off his notepad and gave it to you.

“Our lessons are done for today, unfortunately. These are the notes I've taken for you today that I’d like you to practice for our next lesson two days from now. You have a gorgeous voice, don’t waste its potential,” Jongho praised you, giddy at the compliment. You watched as he gathered his stuff, curious about something.

“Jongho, I didn’t get to hear you sing today. I know time ran out, but can I at least know what your favorite song is?” You were eager to know, wanting to learn something about him before he left.

Jongho cleared his throat and began singing a lovely melody, a song you’ve never heard before. You sat in awe, mesmerized as he sang effortlessly, hand on his chest, as he sang with such fervor. It’s almost like the song was made for him. You swayed in time with the lyrics, mouthing the words you memorized him singing in the previous chorus. When he finished, you stood and gave a standing ovation. He bowed in thanks, “It’s called Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You by George Benson. It’s one of the songs that helped me fall in love with music in the first place”.

“I can see why,” You were still in shock at how gorgeous his voice was. “I wish I could hear more of you, but I know you’re busy, so I can’t stop you.”

Jongho gave you a small smile, “After every lesson, I’ll sing any song of your choice if you’d like.”

“I’d like that,” You replied, following him to the door to leave for his next lesson, “see you next time, Jongho”.

“Have a good rest of your day, y/n-ssi.” He waved his goodbyes as you locked the door behind him.

You were in a better mood now than this morning, humming what you’ve learned today from today's lesson. You strolled to the kitchen, preparing some fruit to snack on, chopping some pineapple and melon pieces. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, sometimes forgetting you had a phone at some point. You saw Yunho’s caller ID, pressing the answer button, “Helloo~”

“You sound like you’re in a good mood. Did your vocal lessons go well?” Yunho sounded like he was breathing heavily—he must’ve called as soon as he had a break.

“Mhm, Jongho is such a great singer. I can’t wait for our next time together. You know so many amazing people,” you put the chopped fruit in a bowl, eating whatever little was left along the rinds.

“I’m glad,” you could hear his smile. “Hongjoong hyung is coming over for a follow-up soon. I should be there before he arrives. I decided to give you a heads-up in advance”.

You hadn’t seen Hongjoong in two weeks, so you were glad to hear he was coming over; you missed him. “Thank you for the heads up. I will be prepared for him.”.

You heard the male chuckle on the other side of the line. “Great. I have to go now. Take care of yourself. See you later, lovely.”

“See you,” and with that, you hung up. You were gonna carry the bowl to the dining table to browse on YouTube, but you saw the TV had a game playing on it. You walked towards the living room to see Mingi playing some random game, Super Smash Bros or whatever you call it. He wore glasses today, you saw him wearing glasses one other time, a few days before. He should wear it more often, you thought. Mingi also had on a brown sleeveless shirt that showed his toned biceps, wearing black sweatpants.

Mingi looked up at you with pointed ears, parting his lip for a piece of fruit. You gladly fed him a chunk of pineapple, watching as a drop of its juice dripped on his tongue before he ate it. You don’t know why it was so attractive to you. “Sweet”, he nonchalantly commented, pushing up his glasses with his middle finger. You stood beside him patiently, not moving after that. Mingi noticed. “Do you want to watch me play?”

“Mhm,” you bit your bottom lip. He scooted over for you to sit next to him as if there wasn’t enough space to go around. “Can I um…”

Mingi searched through the character selection, scanning over who to choose. “I’m listening.”

“Can I sit… there?” you shyly asked. 

Mingi saw where you were referring to, pointing to the spot between his legs. His tail wagged, “Come, come,” he held his hand out for you to help you sit down. You sat crisscrossed between his legs, back leaning against his chest as you nuzzled into him. You still had the fruit bowl in your hand, munching on a piece of pineapple. He placed his chin on the top of your head, bringing his arms around you so that he could comfortably hold his controller. You never noticed his hands; they were huge, and he could cover the controller with one hand. Your eyes traced the veins on his forearms as his fingers expertly danced around the controller. You wanted your tail to wrap around it so badly, but settled for tucking it around your waist, distracting yourself with another piece of fruit. 

“Ah,” You felt Mingi’s mouth open again above you, his chin pressing against your scalp. You picked up a piece of melon and looked up as you brought it to his lips. You felt his tongue and mouth accidentally graze your fingers. “Sorry,” he apologized with a full mouth of fruit.

“It’s okay…” You mumbled, licking at your fingers where his tongue touched. He didn’t notice, too immersed in the game before him. His pheromones hit your nose from this angle, inhaling deeply. “You smell amazing, Mingi.” You had the urge to turn around and just scent him fully, but you restrained yourself. What is up with you today? 

Mingi knitted his brows, “Thank you, darling. Are you feeling alright by the way?” You were reveling in the nickname he gave you to respond. “Y/n?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m okay, heaven on earth right now. Why do you ask?” you asked, staring at the bowl in your hands. There wasn’t much left in it.

“Well, you’re never this affectionate with me like this, especially since you’re always napping with San. You also never asked to sit in my lap before. I’m starting to wonder if I’m finally rubbing off on you,” he slyly smiled, and you smiled back.

You nuzzled further back into him. “I don’t know, I felt like opening up more. Should I move from your lap?” You didn’t want him to say yes, but you’d respect his answer either way.

Mingi paused the game, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Are you kidding? I’m relishing this as much as I can.” Mingi said matter-of-factly. He poked his nose in the junction of your cat ears, trailing down to where your scent gland was to scent you briefly. However, when he got there, your scent was a bit stronger than before. “You’re extra strawberry today.” His mouth salivated slightly as he inhaled your pheromones, you gave more access to your neck, almost submitting yourself to him. 

Neither of you heard San come out of his room, looking at the situation before him. Mingi’s nose pressed against your neck as you willingly offered yourself up in between his legs. The fruit bowl you had long forgotten about. “Am I… interrupting something?” The black cat’s tail swung low, ears relaxed above his head as he watched with curious eyes.

Mingi removed himself from your neck, looking at his friend. Only San could see how dilated his pupils were before returning to normal. Mingi pushed up his glasses, “No..” he fibbed. San definitely interrupted something, but he just kept quiet. Mingi grabbed the controller again to resume his game, placing his chin back on your head.

You frowned, craning your neck to see San, your breath hitched slightly. He wore a gray tank top and sweatpants, displaying his biceps and pecs from how tightly the shirt hugged his body. Your body raked all over him before meeting his eyes, innocently offering an eye smile. San went over to where you sat, kneeling. He put the back of his hand on your forehead, “slightly warm…” his tail now swayed up behind him, his ears in airplane mode. “How are you today, sweetheart?”

“I’m great. Jongho taught me vocal techniques to improve my singing, and now I’m just eating some fruit. You want one?” You cutely offered a piece to him. He cooed at you, taking the chunk of pineapple in his mouth. 

“No strawberries… huh?” San casually brought up, looking at you and Mingi, and then back to you.

You shook your head, “There weren’t any.” 

“Isn’t that too bad?” It was more of a statement than a question. He looked at the time on his phone. “Yunho should be back in an hour or so. Do you need anything, y/n?”

You shook your head again, tapping your thigh. “Come lie down, join us.” San couldn’t argue with that; one of his favorite activities is lying down anyway. He went to the right of you, lying back to place his head on your thigh, looking up at you, “Hi…”

“Hi...” he softly greeted back, smiling up at you. You had bitten into a piece of melon. “Is there any more?” San asked, fluffing his hair. 

You looked at the bowl. “No.” San shrugged, but you offered the piece that you bit into. His eyes shifted from the fruit to you, never breaking eye contact as he took it into his mouth. You placed the empty bowl on the floor next to Mingi’s legs, the husky hybrid still locked into the game he was playing. San looked so… handsome from his angle, you saw his ears twitch from Mingi’s sudden outburst, but he didn’t seem to care. As if it had a mind of its own, your hand reached up to his hair, carding your fingers through it. His eyes closed as you did it again, letting your nails caress his scalp. You switched from tracing the outline of his ears to running your fingers through his locs, feeling his start to purr against your leg, you’re sure Mingi sensed it too.

When you pulled away, San’s eyes fluttered open, he reached for your hand, and placed it back where it was. “Continue, please.” You obliged, keeping your hand in his hair, twirling his hair around your fingers. His eyes shut again, melting against your touch. You gave an experimental tug on it, eliciting a small groan from him, sending an electric shock through your body. You didn’t do it again, not wanting to ruin what’s supposed to be an innocent gesture. 

You felt Mingi’s hand rest on your knee, tracing patterns as he waited for his game to load. He decided to play a different game from Super Smash Bros and went to an entirely different console. Some cutesy game called ‘Fall Guys', for a game this cute, it seems to frustrate the hell out of the boys. But they still insisted on playing it. San heard the game's music and shot up, grabbing a controller to join. A fleeting sorrow at the sudden loss of touch until you felt San’s tail wrap around your free arm, while Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again, holding the controller with his hands. You felt perfect, surrounded by your favorite scents and two caring people who made sure your comfort came first.

~~

Yunho sat with you at the dining table, eating an early lunch while you waited for Hongjoong to come, eating a small cucumber sandwich. You weren’t hungry, but you craved his company. You had your tail wrapped around Yunho’s arm, bringing your chair closer to him. From the moment he entered the house, you were glued to him, embracing him in a tight hug. Even when he went to shower, you waited outside his room door until he came out. You watched as he prepared and cut up the cucumber for the sandwiches he made for himself, purring more acutely than usual. Yunho thought you were being more cutesy on purpose, but he felt something was wrong. San took his daily nap on the couch after losing to Mingi several times on ‘Fall Guys’ while Mingi browsed his phone, San’s head on his lap as he snoozed.

The doorbell rang twice, you stood up to answer it. “Hello, Hongjoong,” you greeted him with a hug. The older male didn’t seem startled at all and instead embraced you back. 

“Hi, hun. You look much healthier and happier than the last time I saw you. Did you believe me when I said you were in good hands?” You inclined your head in agreement, leading him to the dining area where Yunho got up from. “Great job in following the dietary list that I gave you for miss y/n. Was there any trouble? Did she struggle in the transition to solids?” Hongjoong questioned, hanging his coat up and taking his shoes off.

“Not at all. She was determined to eat her favorite foods again, willing to wait however long it would’ve taken.” Yunho idolized your endurance.

“That’s great to hear,” Hongjoong held on to his case. “Shall we begin?” Yunho pulled out a seat from the dining table for you and Hongjoong, deciding to sit on the opposite side of the table. Hongjoong positioned his case on the dining table. He had less than before. “Don’t worry, there are no needles today. Just a physical check-up and follow-up plan from here,” he reassured you. “How are you feeling today, y/n?”

“Extremely good right now,” you wore a cutesy expression. Hongjoong jotted down your tail wrapping around your waist, and ears pointed up.

“Oh really? Did something happen today?” He engaged in the conversation, examining how you behaved. You retold the same story for the third time today about your vocal lessons with Jongho, and that you hung out with San and Mingi afterwards. “Mmm, Jongho-ssi. Glad to hear he’s doing well,” he continued, writing on his notepad. “Did anything happen between you, San, and Mingi?”

You cocked your head to the side. “No, we just cuddled and ate some fruit. I watched them play games mostly,” you recited, telling the truth. 

“Good,” Hongjoong put his notepad down, pulling out gloves to wear. “I’m going to perform the usual check-up procedures before doing the physical, okay?” The doctor put a thermometer under your tongue, clamped an oximeter on your finger, and attached the portable blood pressure kit to your arm. You sat like a statue, following the protocol for him. He removed the thermometer from your mouth and furrowed his brows, mentally remembering the number before removing the oximeter, and finally releasing the pressure from the kit. “Your temperature is higher than it should be. Do you not feel hot?”

“I mean, I do feel warmer. I just thought the thermostat was lower.” An epiphany slowly came to you.

Hongjoong put on his stethoscope, instructing you to take deep breaths. Although you were listening to him, your heart began racing a million beats a second. “Y/n, relax a little. All I hear is that healthy heart of yours,” his compliment soothed you a bit, but it wasn’t enough. Yunho started worrying as Hongjoong looked at the living room area. “Do one of you mind coming over here?” San, who had woken from his nap after the doorbell went off, showed up by your side first. “Let her scent you for a little bit. She worked herself up just now.”

San put your face in his neck, rubbing your back. “My sweet y/n, I had a feeling…” You didn’t know what he meant by that, busy inhaling his caramel and sandalwood aroma. He stayed there for a minute or two until you started purring. When he moved away, you slumped slightly in your seat, your tail swaying behind you.

Hongjoong took the opportunity to touch your ears, getting a reaction out of you before reaching for your tail, eliciting the same response from you. The last thing he did before putting his stethoscope away was press the back of his hand to your forehead, drawing his conclusion.

“Y/n’s blood pressure is fine, and so are her lungs and oxygen. However, her internal and external temperatures are higher than they should be. She’s in preheat. Hearing that made your world stop, remembering that it was supposed to be excruciating. You thought you’d be fine for at least another week.

“That explains how she was acting earlier,” You heard Mingi’s voice from behind Yunho, not exactly looking in that direction.

“How was she acting?” Yunho asked worryingly. 

“More affectionate than usual, wanting to sit in my lap, scenting San and me more than usual. Holding onto Yunho hyung from the second he came home. She hasn’t been this openly affectionate before,” Mingi listed everything that happened. “Her scent is also more potent… I should’ve noticed. I just thought she was in a great mood.”

Hongjoong hummed, packing his things away. “Since it seems like it may be coming tomorrow, have you considered any of the heat hot—”

“I don’t want to go to a heat hotel.” There was venom in your words, not necessarily mad at anyone. More or so annoyed with the fact that you didn’t realize your preheat symptoms.

“Okay then,” Hongjoong respected your opinion. “Did you get any toys, y/n?”. You nodded, wrapping your tail around your arm. Hongjoong mentally noted that as well. “How do you plan on managing it?” 

“San and Mingi will help me…” You stated shyly. “...and Yunho, if he’d like to,” you said meekly, looking up at the blonde male. This was no time to be flustered as the situation became serious to him.

“Yunho, you are given the proposal to assist y/n through her heat. Will you help her?” Hongjoong asked his best friend.

“If that’s what she wants, then of course,” he smiled down at you. From the day he found you, he vowed to help and protect you from anything. Since you need help with your heat, who is he to deny you?

Hongjoong closed his case, handing Yunho a list. “Just to inform you on a couple of things; heats last a long time, as you know from owning two hybrids already. This means that y/n’s stamina will last longer. Most heats are 4-5 days, but considering her condition, it could last a week or a little over a week, even though I’m not sure how long because cases like this are rare. If your stamina runs out, San and Mingi can take care of it from there unless she asks for you at any point. If she wants toys, use toys; if she doesn’t, don’t. It’s all about what she wants at the end of the day,” Yunho listened intently, and so were the hybrids who felt like they were all around you.

“The best way to satiate her heat is by releasing inside. She has an IUD, so there’s no need to worry about anything. The list here includes some things to pick up at the grocery store to not only help y/n stay active and hydrated, but also for you and the boys. Have one of them go with you to find items they like, and that is beneficial. I cannot stress this enough, but please, stack up on electrolytes and water. Anything that includes electrolytes for her to eat as well will help. She will be in a subspace, yes, she will be here, but it’s most likely going to be brain fog.”

Hongjoong, who looked at you with soft eyes, was concerned about the pain you’ll be in. “Do you consent to everything y/n, and do you give your consent? I’m afraid it’ll be harder for you in a few days. I just want to hear it from you first.”

“Yes,” you gave full consent to everyone in the room. You trusted them with your life.

“Then it’s settled,” Hongjoong looked down at his watch. “The store I wrote down closes in about two hours, I advise you to get going.”

“Mingi, come with me,” Yunho tapped his arm, hurriedly gathering warmer clothes to put on since it was still technically winter. 

Hongjoong patted your head. “Take care and have a safe heat, hun. I’ll see you when it’s over.” Hongjoong was the first to leave. Soon after, Yunho and Mingi rushed out, promising to return as quickly as they could.

You were left with San, whose hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry. You’ll be alright,” San gently helped you stand up, leading you back to the living room couch to cuddle. He purposefully put you on the side of his scent gland, emitting more of his pheromones to comfort you. “What would you like to watch?”

~~

Yunho and Mingi were scrambling around the store. Yunho pushed the cart around as his eyes scanned the list—they had more than enough cases of water, electrolyte drinks, and packets, now it was more or so about food to cook and fruit. They were by the vegetable section, collecting cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes, spinach, literally anything that contained a lick of electrolytes.

“What do you like to eat during your ruts?” Yunho questioned Mingi, moving over to the fruit section.

Mingi wore a playful smile, tail wagging, “Whoever I’m spending my rut with,” earning a displeased look from Yunho, and met with silence. “...Mixed nuts.” 

“I agree, I think you should go get that.” Yunho put some watermelons, bananas, oranges, and strawberries in the basket. Mingi temporarily left to grab his favorite brand of trail mix, leaving Yunho in his thoughts. 

Yunho was concerned about whether he’d do a good job pleasing you during your heat. He felt like his stamina was stable since he’s a dancer, and he’s in the dance room several hours a day. He’s had sex before, but it just wasn’t with a hybrid; he doesn‘t know how it’ll go. To say he’s nervous is an understatement. Mingi had returned with a huge container of mixed nuts and tubs of yogurt. “In case y/n wants to switch it up and mix it,” Mingi carefully placed everything in.

“Good job, Mingi-ah,” Yunho praised Mingi, making his ears poke up. “Now, we just need to get ingredients for meal preps because it doesn’t seem we’ll have time to cook constantly. We need meat, fish, pasta, rice...” The older was mainly talking to himself, but Mingi listened, trailing behind him. He sensed that Yunho was nervous and rubbed his back.

“It’ll be fine,” Mingi reassured him, easing the weight off Yunho’s shoulders. “We should also get ice cream and chocolates.”

Yunho tilted his head, “I told you we need to follow the list, we can’t think of indulgences.”

“Hyung, it’s not for me… Well, a little bit, but it’s mainly for y/n. Ice cream offers a cooling sensation, and chocolate has mild aphrodisiac properties. Plus, both have mood-boosting effects,” Mingi stated simply. 

Yunho couldn’t help but agree, relating, “How do you know all of this?”.

“Well, when you’ve been to enough heat hotels as I’ve been to, you learn from different partners. I’ve also learned what Yeosangie, Wooyoungie, and Sannie liked after helping them with theirs.” Mingi got distracted looking at some new limited edition snacks that had been released, adding them to the cart. Yunho didn’t mind it.

“Don’t you ever feel like the sex is not genuine because of heats or ruts?”

Mingi pondered. “Sometimes. Only because we’re all trying to get our heat sated. Sometimes we say things to each other that we eventually don’t mean afterward. Sometimes we mean it, but we never see that hybrid again. But because it’s all brain fog at the end of the day, our bodies are too busy reacting more than we are. The ones that suck the most are the ones y/n described when we first met her. The types of heats where it seems like the other party is just being plain selfish, not caring if the other finishes, or doesn’t like offering aftercare. I’ve had some instances like that. Once I noticed, I just reciprocated the same energy and kept it pushing.”

Yunho felt remorseful, “I’m sorry to hear that. I shouldn’t have put you or San in heat hotels.”

Mingi brushed it off. “There’s no need to apologize. We wanted to go because it was the most effective option available for you. Plus, you were able to provide a better variety of heat hotels than some out there. I don’t know which hotel y/n went to, but if her experience had been that bad that she doesn’t want to go to any, I’d love to help her.”

Yunho’s proud of both Mingi and San. They were the most considerate hybrids he had met, always thinking of others first besides themselves. “You know, Mingi, you’re so much more mature than most people out there. I may not express it a lot, but… I do love you and San, sincerely.”

Mingi blushed, balling his fist and softly hitting Yunho’s arm, “You know I love you more.” Yunho chuckled, petting the top of his head, only for Mingi to grab his hand and kiss the back. “Hyung, I’m not going to lie. Not to ruin the mood, but the store closes in thirty minutes...”

~~

Yunho and Mingi arrived about an hour ago, preparing everything in the kitchen for meal prepping, watching some recipes to incorporate for the next week. Since they had to prepare meals for four people, there was a lot of work to do. 

San swapped places with Mingi in the kitchen this time, cutting up the fruits and vegetables, some for cooking and some to have later, meanwhile, Yunho cooked the mains like meats, fish, rice, pasta, etc. The aroma around the house entices you. Mingi replaced San after coming home, mainly because San is better at cooking and because Mingi just came from outside. You lay on top of him on the couch with your face buried in his neck. As the night approached, the warmer you were getting. You weren’t burning up as if your heat broke, but it's definitely different than this morning. 

Mingi caressed your hair, arms holding you close to him, “Nervous?

You sighed against his neck, “Very. I just don’t know how painful it will be. I thought the last one four months ago was the worst.” Mingi’s chest vibrated as he hummed.

“We’ll be here for you and do our best to make sure it’s not too bad,” he pecked the top of your head. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

You shook your head, “Just stay here.” Your arms tightened around him, tail wrapping around his leg. Mingi chuckled at how precious you were being. He could get used to this.

A yelp emitted from the kitchen startled you a bit. Yunho hissed a ‘fuck’. “He’s fine, guys, just accidentally burned himself,” San announced, and you let out a breathy laugh in response. He's so clumsy.

Mingi giggled in response to you. Soon after, the sizzling from the kitchen continued. “...Do you know who you want to spend your first day with?” he asked, tracing shapes on your back.

“Whoever is closest to me when it breaks. I’m not picky,” the smell of the food made your stomach rumble. Mingi felt it.

“Sannie,” he yelled from under you. San responded with a ‘yeah?’, “Do we have any more of those small sandwiches? Our y/n is hungry.” You shook your head at him; he didn’t have to do that, but you appreciated it. 

Two minutes passed before San came with a tray. It had a plate of sandwiches and two glasses of water, placing them on the living room table. He kneeled to you, rubbing your shoulder. “Hyung is also making us dinner tonight aside from the meals for the week. It should be ready in an hour. These should suffice in the meantime”. 

“Thank you,” San gave you a small peck on your shoulder, leaving to continue cooking. You pushed yourself up using Mingi’s chest, sitting on him. His hands were on your waist so you wouldn’t fall over. You reached for a tea sandwich consisting of lunch meat, cheese, and lettuce, biting into it. Mingi was too busy studying you, “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Mingi shook his head, “Watching you eat is enough for me”. You couldn’t take that for an answer, offering the sandwich you took a bite off in front of his lips. He took it in his mouth, thanking you. He allowed you to finish the other two sandwiches San brought, nibbling whatever you offered to him. You didn’t drink all the water because you felt bad sitting on him for so long, not that he minded. You placed a straw in your cup, gesturing for him to drink. You observed him wrap his plush lips around the plastic as his Adam's apple bobbed with each sip.

“Has anyone ever told you that your lips were alluring?” You placed the cup on the tray, ears flicking at the clink it made. 

Mingi nodded, “All the time. Wooyoung likes to tell me that a lot. Threatens to chew them off sometimes.” You giggled at the idea of Wooyoung chewing his lips off. “Come,” Mingi brought you back down. This time his nose was in your scent gland. “Your pheromones are addicting, I’m sorry.”

You held his head as you lay against him, “I’m glad.”

The two of you stayed like that, waiting for everything to finish. San and Yunho plated tonight’s dinner, setting the dining table after having already put the meal preps away, “Food’s ready.” Yunho grabbed the drinks from the counter and placed them next to the plates as San brought the silverware.

Mingi wrapped your arms around his neck, sitting up to lock your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the table. He sat you on your usual seat, next to Yunho, before taking his seat across from you. Yours and Mingi’s tails swayed in content, having scented each other to the fullest. The older males took their respective seats. “Thank you for cooking, hyungs.” You also thanked them for cooking.

“You two seemed like you had a great time on the couch.” San sipped his drink, noting how messy Mingi’s hair appeared. He acted coy, pushing his glasses up. It’s not like the two of you did anything crazy, but with how you two looked, it gave off that impression. 

“Y/n smells too good, I can’t help it,” Mingi nibbled at the Chicken Alfredo they made, eyes gleaming. “You guys made this?!”

Yunho mixed his food around. “You sound surprised.”

“I am. The last time you cooked something… it wasn’t distinguishable.” Mingi grimaced at the thought of his rosé risotto he attempted months back.

Yunho pouted. Mingi had a point, so he couldn’t counter back. You ate some of it, making an ‘angry’ face towards it. “It’s delightful.” Yunho petted your head as he indulged in the food himself.

Dinner was quiet besides the occasional clinks of utensils against the glass plates. You were brooding over what tomorrow would bring, your tail wrapped around your arm, reconciling with yourself about it. San peeped at it but decided not to speak, he understood what you were feeling. Mingi was the first to finish, stretching and yawning. It was unlike his usual eating habits, but he said he was more than full. He took his dinnerware to the dishwasher first, too lazy to clean it right now. Mingi mentioned washing up first, wishing everyone a good night before leaving for his room. San was second to finish up, excusing himself to his room soon after, which left you and Yunho to yourselves.

You were pretty full, messing with what was left of dinner. It could be from the sandwiches you got earlier, could be because your stomach had butterflies. Yunho had already finished, watching you as you were distracted. “You can save it for later. You don’t have to finish it.” You glanced at him briefly, finally getting up to put it away. 

Yunho beat you to it, though, grabbing your plate and his. “I can wash my stuff, you know,” you chuckled.

“I know,” Yunho walked to the kitchen, gladly putting your leftovers in the fridge. “Go wash up and rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The morning… You wish it would stay tonight for a while, but maybe a shower would help you get your mind off things. 

You excused yourself upstairs to your room, preparing a change of clothes to put on after you were done. You picked out a matching cotton set of underwear and a silk midnight blue pajama set with shorts, placing it on your bed. Satisfied with your selection, you headed to the bathroom, seeing Yunho leaving it. He didn’t see you leave your room, swiftly entering his. You realized you had never seen anyone’s room yet, wondering what it looked like. 

Nonetheless, you readied the hot shower, removing your clothes to hop in. The water hit you instantly, and your body melted into it. You washed your hair with the shampoo and conditioner Yunho provided, liking the vanilla scent more than you thought. When you scratched your scalp, your hands brushed over your ears, eliciting a small moan. It’s ridiculous how sensitive your ears and tail get when in preheat. During heat, it helps in the bedroom, but when you just want to do simple tasks such as, it's burdensome. You eventually washed the suds out, cleaning your body next. That task was at least easier, taking your time to go around your neck, under your arms, and your legs, taking the opportunity to get under your nails. Self-care is more important right now because you can guarantee that in the upcoming days, you won’t feel the luxury of being this clean. The shower took about twenty minutes, most of that time being you scrubbing yourself while daydreaming about anything.

Turning off the water, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body, feeling squeaky clean. Your hair smelled fragrant, your body felt new, and your skin looked flawless, making you ready to conquer tomorrow. With that attitude, you blow-dried your hair and brushed your teeth before looking down the hallway for signs of anybody. When the coast was clear, you tiptoed to your room, removing your towel and placing it in your laundry hamper. Before you put on your pajamas, you take the time to lotion your body and moisturize your face for extra self-care, wanting to drown in the essence of vanilla. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, putting on your bra and panties, admiring how they looked on you, and eventually putting on the pajamas afterward. 

Now that everything was done, all you had to do was sleep…But you didn’t want to sleep in your bed tonight.

You left your room again, making your way two doors down to Yunho’s room. You put your ear against it to hear if he was doing anything, but you heard nothing. You knocked on his door, deciding it was better than walking in. After a moment of silence, you thought he was asleep. You almost walked away until Yunho swung the door open, looking down at you.

“Hey darling, is something wrong?” he appeared as if he was about to go to bed, honestly, changing into a completely different outfit, a black tee and shorts. You don’t think you’ve seen his legs until now, they were very toned.

“No…” You played with the hem of your shirt, tail wrapped around your arm. “But I do have a question,” Yunho leaned against the door frame, waiting for you to ask. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Yunho didn’t know that’s the question you were going to ask. He moved out of the way, gesturing his arm toward the inside of the room, “As you wish. ”

The interior was better than you expected. The first thing you noticed was his PC set up, he had two monitors and some decorations on the desk. His walls were a blueish gray, adorned with artwork, his nightstand had magazines with him on it, showing off his greatest achievements, and a lovely plant on the windowsill. His bed was also queen-sized, with a gray blanket and pillows, but white sheets.

The side of the bed that looked untouched was the side you chose, pulling the sheets over your legs as you patiently waited for him to head over to his side. The nightstand lamp was still lit, and he turned off the main lights before heading over. “Thank you for allowing me in your room. I wanted to ask the first night I stayed, but didn’t want to push any boundaries”.

Yunho sat on his side of the bed. “Is that so? You could’ve asked.” You shrugged; that was already two weeks ago now. “If you ever feel like sleeping here in the future, you could let me know.” He pulled the sheets up over his legs, you were already lying down with your back facing him in a fetal position. He chuckled, turning the nightstand light off. “Goodnight, y/n.”

You felt him shift behind you, back away from you as well. Except you weren’t fully content. “Yunho?”

“Hm?”

“Can you hold me too?”

You felt the bed shift again, his arm wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you closer to him. Your back touched his chest, feeling his knees slightly under yours, “better?”

You nuzzled even closer to him, making him hold you tighter, finally feeling like this is where you needed to be. “Yes.”

“Good,” you felt his breath against your head, feeling warm again.

“Goodnight, Yunho”, was the last thing you said before drifting off into a deep rest.

Tomorrow would be unforgiving and unrelenting to your sleep. 

[cowboybeepboop]

If you’re still taking requests, could you do a smut of reader giving Scott a blowjob?

Love your writing 😍

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut with a little plot 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none other than obviously a blowie and it being road head 

a/n: Thank you so much 🙂 I’ve been slowly posting drafts bc I’m back in uni so my time is limited but I had to hop on this immediately 😝🙏 that being said if you have sent me requests TRUST I am working on them/am going to post them soon. As always I hope you enjoy and send me any requests you might have <3

Being assigned to Storm Par was supposed to be your biggest opportunity to do something with your meteorology degree, but of course there was one man standing in the way of you doing anything besides just observing him. Scott never let you drive, give your opinions on where to go, or even just talk to him during your drives. 

He gets on your nerves to say the very least. But that just means you do everything you can to get on *his* nerves. Right now that means tapping your nails against the armrest of the door along to the beat of the song. 

Scott reaches over and turns off the music, shooting you a gruff glare which earns an annoyed roll of your eyes. “You’re so annoying.” you reply, arms crossing under your breasts as you stare at the road in front of you. 

“Oh I’m annoying?” He says mockingly “You’re the one who is always tapping or talking about nonsense. Drives me crazy.” He glances at your crossed arms, your chest being a little more pronounced than usual. He looks away quickly before he thinks about it too much.

“You complain about *everything* Scott.” you groan, eyes shifting over to him, subtly admiring his handsome features. For being such a dick, he truly is beautiful.

“And you always have something to say about my complaining.” He says, rolling his eyes. His voice changes a little as his eyes are briefly fixated on the way your chest bounces with each bump in the road. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he enjoys when you bicker over little things.

You huff a sigh, your eyes following his gaze. A small smile plays at the corner of your lips as you squeeze your arms tighter making your cleavage even more noticeable. He can’t help but watch as you squeeze your arms. His gaze becomes a bit more intense as he takes in the shape of your chest. 

He quickly glances up at the road so you don’t catch him staring before clearing his throat. “Are you trying to cause us to crash or something?” he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“How would I do that?” you turn to face him, lips pouting while your gaze falls on the slight blush of his cheeks. 

“Cause I’m obviously distracted.” he replies with a grumble. His gaze travels down to your pouty lips before snapping back up to the road. He shifts a bit in his seat, feeling the tightness in his jeans grow the longer he looks at you.

“Why are you distracted?” you continue to feign innocence, your hand falling to his thigh as you lean closer. 

“I -” his words get caught in his throat as you place your hand on his thigh. The skin under your hand feels like it’s on fire as his jeans do nothing to stop the heat from coming through. 

He can’t help but inhale the scent of your perfume, its sweet and floral scent making his head feel hazy. He slowly looks over at you, taking in your features as you lean closer. “You know exactly why.”

You bite down on your lip, fingers teasing his thigh as they run up, closer and closer to where he wants your touch the most. “Is that so?” 

His breath hitches in his throat as your fingers slowly run up his thigh. The fabric feels so tight now, and your touch only makes it worse. He tries to focus on the road but you are making it harder to think about anything besides how badly he wants your hands on him.

“Yes.” he says in a low voice. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

“You’ve caught me..” you murmur into his ear, your teeth grazing his lobe softly. A shiver runs down his spine as he feels your teeth against his earlobe. 

The heat that’s been building inside of him is now starting to become overwhelming. He wants nothing more than to turn the car around and take you back to his hotel. “What are you trying to do, sweetheart?” he asks, not trying to hide the desire in his voice.

“Just focus on the road Scott.” you guide his face back to the road. “I think I’ve found something I can do that *won’t* annoy you.” your fingers dance over his growing erection, ghosting over the fabric. 

A low moan escapes his lips before he can stop it. “Jesus…you’re going to make me crash if you keep that up.” he groans, his grip on the steering wheel tightens as he tries to focus on the road. He looks so much different now, he’s usually so cocky and arrogant but right now he’s completely at your mercy.

“Just keep your eyes ahead..” you mutter, unbuckling your seat belt and leaning over the center console for better access. Your fingers fumbling with his jeans as you work to free his length. 

He let out another low groan as he feels you unbutton his pants. He can’t take his eyes off the road, if he looks at you he’s sure he’ll lose control. “What are you doing?” he asks between pants, needing to keep his voice as even and steady as possible. 

He’s struggling to stay focused on the road, you’ve never done anything like this before during your drives. You ignore his question, unzipping his pants and palming him through his boxers, leaning down you press a soft yet wet kiss to his clothed cock. 

He gasps as he feels your hand and lips through his boxers. He lets out a low moan, his hand dropping off the steering wheel and onto your hair, pushing you down firmly. You let out a soft giggle at his desperation, finally freeing his length from his boxers. 

His erection practically springs out of the fabric, tip wet with precum, you glance up at him. “Remember you have to focus on the road, don’t wanna crash.” you tease before sticking out your tongue, licking the tip of his cock softly. 

“God…please don’t tease me…I’ll take care of you when we get to the hotel” he groans, his hands desperately gripping the steering wheel as he feels your tongue on his tip. He can drive but it’s definitely getting harder to focus.

He throws his head back in frustration, he just needs to get to the hotel as quickly as possible so he can have you. You take him into your mouth, tongue brushing against the length of him as you push his cock in as far as you can. 

You slowly bob your head up and down, eyes closing as you let out a soft moan, loving the feeling of your mouth being so full. “Fuck..” he mumbles, his eyes going from the road to you taking him in your mouth. 

He desperately wants to watch you but he knows he can’t, he needs to focus. It’s like torture, the pleasure you are giving him is so overwhelming but he can’t fully enjoy it. His fingers tangle in your hair, his hips bucking up softly as he reacts to your movements. 

His tip hits the back of your throat softly causing you to gag, eyes watering as you focus on giving him more pleasure. Your thoughts focused on making him feel good, his hand moving from your hair down your back, his fingers digging into your skin. 

You pull back, letting his dick go with a pop as it leaves your mouth, your hand wraps around it while you catch your breath. You slowly stroke him, watching the way his face contorts in pleasure. 

“Y/N, baby, please.” he groans, “Suck me some more, I miss your lips.” his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, softly pressing into you. You comply, taking his tip back into your mouth, hand still working around him. 

Your movements are slow, almost tortuous, he lets out quiet moans, his hand tightening around you gently. Your tongue swirls around his pink tip, running over each groove as you get lost in the taste of him. 

Scott tries to keep his eyes on the road, but he just has to steal one glance at you. As he looks down, his hips buck into your mouth as he lets out a low moan, his warm cum spewing into your mouth. 

His head falls back against the headrest, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You pull back, swallowing his seed and wiping your lips, a small smirk finding its way onto your mouth. 

“Scott..” you practically purr his name, admiring his pretty flushed face. He starts to come down from the feeling of you, he can’t help but look down at you when you say his name. It’s a rare moment where his expression completely softens as he gazes at you with a look bordering on love.

He quickly regains his composure though, his cocky attitude returning as his chest heaves with each panted breath. “You really made it difficult for me to drive.” he grumbles, but there’s no real annoyance in his voice.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.” you retort, finding your way back into your seat, buckling yourself safely in the passenger side. 

He lets out a huff, still recovering from your treatment. He adjusts himself back into his pants before running a hand through his hair, trying to settle down.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, sweetheart.” he says in a low voice, still thinking about your lips. He turns to you, noticing how proud you look. “You have no idea what I plan to do to you at the hotel.”

[wonryllis]

AGENT HEESEUNG ★ LITTLE BIT DANGEROUS BABY, THAT'S HOW I WANT IT.

惹き付ける 𓈃 ﹙where,﹚ agent red gets distracted on a mission.

001 ꗃ. agent heeseung headcanons 640 words! warning MDNI NSFW; mentions of fingering crdt! of edit @hypenwons on tiktok LIB?

"stop staring at her," jay's voice rings in heeseung's earpiece.

"what?" he's too lost in thoughts like? dude you got a national level mission to do where's your mind at?

less than two hours ago he was in prehaps THE MOST secret facility in the country going over plans of an undercover search that he was SPECIFICALLY CHOSEN for

and here he is now leaning against the countertop of the bar with a fancy drink in hand

surely it wasn't alcoholic, he can't afford to be intoxicated in the slightest bit, right?

"olive green knit crop and black pants, you're staring," the venom and warning in jay's voice bites back from the control room

heeseung takes a sip of his mocktail and sighs there's no way literally no way, jay's gotta be kidding

"i'm not staring," this has to be a joke because why is jay not kidding, it's been fifteen minutes and his eyes just keep following you and your every move

from the way your mouth shapes as you laugh amidst the crowd of your friends(he assumes) to the way your lips touch the glass of vodka to the way your hips sway as you scurry to the dance floor

"you are, agent red," how your body moves to the music and the little peaks of skin that show and how it just seems to glisten under the disco lights.

"shut it, you have a mission to focus on," with the high tech glasses on, he can see the remnants of the liquid shining on your lips each time you drink a glass.

he can not help but be drawn to those beautiful colored lips

in fact your whole existence is quite literally making him go crazy, his thoughts running to such places that he absolutely should not be thinking about on a mission for fucks sake

if he were to just walk over and kiss you right now he wonders what you'd taste like, vodka? tequila? flavored cocktails? sweet and addicting? BINGO!

"yeah whatever," heeseung chugs in his drink and puts the glass back on the counter, zeroing in on you one last time.

"what? what did you just say heeseung-" rip jay. we'll miss you dearly

BEFORE HE TAKES OUT HIS EARPIECE AND GLASSES TURNING THEM OFF AND SHOVING INTO HIS SUIT POCKETS KSJHKKS

in the blink of an eye he's right behind you, slyly putting his hands on your waist as he joins you on the crowded dance floor standing impossibly close kshjsjd

and like an incubus bends to whisper in your ear, voice husky and tempting. he knows how to charm his way * - *

"you wanna dance together, pretty?" (died.)

the entire time his hands roam everywhere and anywhere caressing your curves shamelessly (if that's not heeseung)

it doesn't take long though for him to initiate a kiss, isn't that what he dropped his mission for?

but god forbid how wrecked he was about to be,, for the moment his lips touched yours, lee heeseung knew

HE WAS DAMN SURE INTOXICATED (can you hear me screaming?)

sucking and biting on your lips wasn't enough for him he just wanted more, so much more 👀

"does it feel good baby?" he can not stop staring at your face as his hand moves between your legs. fingers inside you with the thumb circling against your clit and the other hand around your neck holding you in a light choke

the way you suck in a breath, bite on your lips whinning to hold in a loud moan, the sounds going straight down against his tight pants and how your hooded eyes keep looking at him in a sultry daze.

WAY TOO INTOXICATED to realize you're the one he was supposed to find info on, and you have him exactly how you planned to, wrapped around your finger.

so, enemies to ?

TAGLIST. ( open ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue

[freyito]

hello hello!!! may i order an idia flavored curry rice plz?? blinks cutely) ty!!

✭ pairing(s): idia shroud x gn reader

★ in which: idia is WAY too confident that he can out miku you.

✩ curry rice black forest cake w/ idia shroud!

✦ entry for my 1k follower event, Freyito's Maid Cafe! check out the link to figure out how to send an order!!

✧ a/n: ykw anon. im so glad you changed your mind because this gave me SUCH a banger idea that i couldnt go to sleep cause i was writing it out in my head. teehee :)

🗒 cw: gn reader, ffxiv sneak, just embarrassed idia :3, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.7k

ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴇᴠɪʟ | ꜰʀᴇʏɪᴛᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴄᴀꜰᴇ !

It was late at night, and you had been on call with Idia. He was grinding out materials for some new transmog that had dropped in his game, and cursing the drop rates. You, on the other hand, were grinding out Project Diva Mega Mix for no particular reason. You had just made up your mind that you wanted to full combo some extra songs, and now you were hellbent on doing so. Plus, it provided some nice background music for Idia and his grind sesh.

By now, you had two songs finished and full cleared (albeit, with 97% accuracy), and you were working on your third, Sweet Devil. You already had four failed runs, your hands were starting to cramp a bit, and Idia’s smart remarks weren’t helping you. Not to mention, you always found the mvs distracting. Too much happening in the background while you were trying to focus on the notes.

You slump back in your chair with a huff as you watch the small word ‘safe’ pop up and interrupt your combo. You watch for just a moment as the symbols fly past on the screen, a barrage of ‘miss’es following shortly after. You finally exit the mv, balling your hands into a fist and then stretching out your fingers.

“I thought you were, like, a god at rhythm games,” Idia chides. You can hear the smile through his mic.

“Well sometimes it takes a couple tries,” You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure it does,” He chuckles. When you look at his stream, he’s finished up running maps and his character is now toiling away by the marketboard. “I bet I could do it.”

You raise your eyebrow, though he can’t see it. “Hm, what’s the stakes?”

“We need stakes?”

“You’re insulting my integrity as a rhythm game player. I want there to be a deal.”

A silence follows your voice, but you can hear him shift back in his chair. “Okay. What do you want to bet, then?”

Hm. You yourself don’t know exactly what you want if you win. Maybe you could get some gil off of him in game, but that didn’t feel like enough. You look around your room, before spotting something rather intriguing. It was a forgotten purchase, a pastel pink maid dress. It was rather cheap material, but still served its function. You were sure if you looked for them, you’d find the rest of the pieces…

“Loser wears a maid dress,” You declare triumphantly. “I got one in my closet.”

“... I, uh, don’t wanna ask why you have that,” He mumbles, “But I guess I accept. It’d be pretty nice to see you in a maid dress, heh…”

“Don’t act like you’ve already won. You haven’t even opened the game yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, just lemme put this up on the marketboard and I’ll get on the game…”

You lean back, content to wait and give your hands a bit of a break. You can’t help but smirk at not only making Idia eat his words, but seeing him in a maid dress would make you… quite happy, to say the least. The light pink would pair well with his hair and– you have to stop yourself there. You’d rather not distract yourself any further, nor allow yourself to get cocky. You can’t get ahead of yourself, or else you risk losing perhaps the most precious award you could ever have. 

“Okay. I’m on. Which song was it again?” Idia finally speaks up. When you look back at his stream, he’s ended it.

“Sweet Devil– Hey, you should stream your screen,” You point out, tabbing back into your game.

“I’m getting to itttt,” He drags the last letter, like it was too much work, as if he had not streamed his games every time you two called.

You watch as the ‘stream has ended’ switches to his screen, scrolling through the songs before landing on sweet devil. He changes difficulties to extreme, then waits for a moment, like he’s expecting you to say something. You decide to mess with him a little bit, staying silent a little longer.

“I’m waiting,” He groans, and you can almost hear his eyes roll. “I know you’re watching. I heard the little viewer noise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You chuckle, “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Idia doesn’t even grace you with a ‘go’, or anything of the sort, simply starting the song, following your words. You scramble to tab back into the game, quickly selecting the song. 

The song and mv start up, and soon after the notes come in. You do your best to focus, to try and block out the MV, the bright pink lights of Miku’s room and Miku herself made it hard to follow the notes, especially with how fast they were. Still, you find your rhythm relatively easily, considering you knew the song and charting by heart. Normally, you’d be super conscious about the progress bar beneath the screen, checking to make sure you were well above the ‘excellent’, marker. However, you were too determined to focus. And unfortunately, that would be too much of a distraction. You don't even focus on if your hits are 'good' or 'excellent'.

The hold notes scare you the most, considering you always end up slipping up on them, somehow. Either that, or you don’t hold them for long enough and panic when you can just press the other buttons on your keyboard. You tell yourself, over and over again, in your mind, that you can just use the other set of keys. You have to. You can’t risk allowing Idia to have any sort of edge on you.

Three minutes feels like five, or even ten. Idia has been far too quiet during this, not even muttering something under his breath. You feel grateful for a moment, if you heard anything on his side, you’d probably mess up. Maybe you could mess him up. Yes. No. Ugh, if you did, you’d probably mess yourself up, too. And if you had messed him up, he’d complain and call for a redo. You would rather never play this song again, to be honest.

Just as your fingers start to tingle– a result of adrenaline, for some reason–, the word ‘success’ comes up. Behind the notes, Miku turns her little devil tail into a spear and throws it as a planet. You do your best not to celebrate too early, still having to go through with the last couple seconds of the song. You were just happy to have nailed the challenge time, more than happy. 

After the last couple of notes, you’re able to lean back and relax. For a moment. When the ‘clear’ screen comes up, you feel your heart jump at the percentage. 101.53%. You look over at Idia’s stream and can’t help but laugh. 99.07%.

“No,” He utters weakly, with an agony in his voice you have never heard before. He doesn’t say anything else.

“Yes,” You feel maniacal, an odd elation spreading through your chest. You don’t even exit the game, hopping out of your chair. “You stay right there.”

You pull the dress from your closet, listening to Idia frantically call for Ortho from your headphones. The rest of what he says is unintelligible, given the distance between you and your headphones as you rummage through drawers to find the rest of the costume. You find the cuffs, stockings, and even a headband with cat ears. It’s a little bent, but you’d fix it on the way.

Hurriedly, you stuffed the costume into a bag, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight. Slinging the bag over your shoulder and rushing out of your house. You keep your flashlight pointed at the ground so you don’t trip, running as fast as you can to the Hall of Mirrors. Like it is a high-stakes situation, time is precious. If you can’t make it to Ignihyde’s dorms soon, then you will never see Idia in a maid dress, even if you won the bet.

The minute you reach the Hall of Mirrors, you practically throw yourself through Ignihyde’s mirrors, scrambling through the halls with harsh breaths. Your heavy footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way up the steps and to Idia’s room, clutching the strap of your bag. Ortho is there, in front of Idia’s door, opening it just a crack.

Seeing you, the boy lights up, smiling at you from underneath his mask. “Oh, hey, Idia. They’re here!”

“Nooo!” Idia squeals, and you can what him scrambling from his chair to close the door.

You shove your foot into the crack of the door just as Idia tries to open it. He uses more force than he means to, squeeze your foot slightly. You don’t emote, despite how much it hurts. Which scares Idia. But you don’t care. You won the bet. And he needs to pay up. Ortho stares blankly, trying to figure out what has Idia acting this way, before scolding his brother.

“That’s mean! You shouldn’t try to shut your partner out, especially like that!” 

Idia shrinks back a little. It’s clear that Ortho doesn’t know what has you on such a warpath, and you are quite happy with that. Finally, you smile a little, opening the door with your other hand. 

“Ortho…” Idia murmurs, turning his gaze away from you and his brother. “We’re gonna, uhm, game all night. Just us two. So, uh, you should get some sleep.”

He sounds utterly defeated, and Ortho remains none the wiser as to what you were about to subject poor Idia too.

“Huh? But you called me here?” Ortho tilts his head, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I didn’t mean it– er, It was a mistake,” 

“... Okay! I’ll leave you two be. Have fun!”

And with that, Ortho hovers away, happy to leave his brother in your hands. By then, Idia knows he’s lost. You take a step in, handing him the bag with the dress and accessories in it. You don’t even speak to him, feeling a bit too giddy about your win, and prize.

“Uhm… can you at least stay out there, while I get changed?” His voice is shy, understandably so. 

“If you lock yourself in there, I’ll get Ortho to break it down,” You place your hands on your hips, in an attempt to seem confident.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

He’s right, you were well aware that your threat was kind of empty. But there’s no way you were going to let him get away.

“Then I’ll get those Heartslabyul first years to kick the door down.”

He lets out a small ‘eep’ at this, frowning. “Okay, okay, I won’t lock the door. Fine. You win.”

He doesn’t allow you any time to reply, taking the back and closing the door all too quickly. You can hear him shuffling about and the clothes rustling, and you feel your stomach flip-flop with nerves. You fidget with your hands and turn your back to the door, pretending like you actually didn’t care all that much so that Idia could get dressed faster, like that would work. You cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your biceps while you wait.

After a while, you hear the door crack behind you, and you turn around way too excitedly. He barely peeks through, giving you a look akin to a pleading puppy. He didn’t open the door all the way, insistent that you had to slip in through the crack, in case any one else would look out and see him. He’d rather save himself the embarrassment.

Finally squeezing through the door, he shuts it quickly. You, on the other hand, are greeted with a sight. His entire face is red, the tips of his hair flickering a bright pink as he looks away in embarrassment. The dress is a little short for him, so he clutches to the hem of the skirt and pulls it down a little. The pink worked well with his hair and his skin, just like you thought. It’s cliche, one of the dresses that was copy pasted from all those maid animes and what not. But still, you think it fit well.

“This is so cheap,” Idia complains, tilting his head up. “Okay. I dressed up. Can you go now so I can get back in my pajamas?”

You realize he’s missing something. The cat ears.

“No. No, I’m not leaving until you put the cat ears on.” You state simply, looking around for where they are.

He grimaces, deflating even more. “Please no. I think I might die. Actually, I’m going to die. Right now.”

“I won the bet fair and square, it’s not my fault. Where are they, Idia.” You speak with such a stern voice, it almost scares him. He finally, hesitantly, points to his chair, his grimace deepening as he looks back at you. “Put. Them. On.”

He groans, turning around and grabbing the cat ears. He gives you one last look, begging you to just let him go. Maybe you’re being a little too sadistic, but c’mon, Idia in a maid dress. That’s it. You plan to make the most of it. Slowly, he lifts the headband over his head, then lowers it down. Now you have your own Idia cat maid in front of you. You can’t help but smile, absolutely jubilant to see this poor man wearing such a cute dress.

“Okay. Can you go now, please,” He pleads once more, bringing a hand up to his face.

“Can I at least take a picture?” You hold up your phone.

“N-no! Please, no. I’m already at my lowest point, don’t have to kick me while I’m down…”

“Okay, okay,” You decide to finally allow him some mercy, “I won’t. But… I don’t think this image is ever leaving my head any time soon.”

He sighs and shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. But he doesn’t reply. Well, that won’t do. You decide to come up with a quick excuse to stay.

“Well, I ran all the way here, in the dark, it’d suck if you sent me back,” You try to play it cool, tilting your head a little and looking up through your lashes at him. This earns you a deeper blush.

“Stop it,” He huffs, turning his head. Met with his set up, he realizes you two are technically still on call. And he finds his way out. “Your pc is on, you know.”

“Huh.”

“It’s on. You’re still in call.” He points to his monitor.

Your blind blanks for a minute, before you panic a little. You would like to stay and see if you can get him to stay in the maid dress for a little longer, but at the same time, you’d rather not blow out the power supply of your pc. That thing is too damn expensive. And you love it too much.

“Okay. Bye.” You huff briskly, turning on your heels and waiting for the door open before running back down to the mirror that connected the Ignihyde dorms to the Hall of Mirrors.

Idia yelps as the door slides open fully, stepping back and pressing himself against the wall so no one would see. Like anyone else was up at this time. He listens to you rush down the hallway, before letting out a breath. Once the door is shut all the way, he’s quick to wriggle out of the dress, throwing the cat ears, cuffs, and stockings (which ended up ripping a bit) to the corner of his room.

Almost breaking the zipper, he yanks it down on the back of his dress and throws it alongside the scattered recipes, before staring intently at it. Why couldn’t you have just waited for him to undress and take it back? He didn’t want these god forsaken items here. In his room. That reminded him of you. That’s like the cheesiest romantic thing couples do! And in this fashion, perhaps even cringey! He wants to burn it, so bad. Or throw it out. But what if someone somehow finds it in the trash? And then they link it back to him? That’d be the worst scenario. The absolute worst.

He continues to stare at it for a minute, before reaching for his pajamas that were hanging off the back of his chair. Fine. He’ll leave the stupid costume alone for now. Perhaps it’d come in handy one day. Give you a taste of your own medicine… or something.

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