#my grades are fucking slipping so much...

[eddiemunchem]

📄 what my dreams are made of | time and time again, eddie has seen you cry over guys that aren’t even worth your time; so, when he catches you crying once more, he decides it’s the last time — and he will show you that you’re exactly what his dreams are made of.

⚠️ 3.6k words, fem!reader, reader has a pussy, bestfriend!eddie, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, kinda dom!eddie, passionate eating out, chubby!coded reader (no extreme graphic depictions but certainly alluded), bullying, some triggering themes, self-doubt that eddie smothers out, 1 thigh pinch, eddie cums in his pants (i was sick while writing this please forgive me if it’s not the best)

💋 i am genuinely so, so sorry for how long this took to get out bby! i always do my best to prioritize comfort reqs, as that’s my purpose for even taking reqs and really writing in the first place, and i wish i could have gotten this out much sooner. i hope this can bring you some comfort sweetheart, you are so so beautiful!! <33

you were so fucking stupid.

so stupid for being so naive. for ever allowing yourself to entertain the fantasy that the christian grosso could ever be attracted to you.

after all, the students of hawkins high dubbed you ‘the elephant amongst tigers’ for a reason.

angry tears slipped down your face as you threw your bag to the floor, uncaring of the loud thump it provoked. your mother was downstairs and likely heard it, and she’d probably even ascend the stairs and try to rib you for information — but you couldn’t find the energy to care.

you couldn’t find the energy to feel anything aside from angry sadness. and if your mom did come check on you, you’d simply tell her you’re feeling sick. yeah, that would work.

with a huff you plopped down on the edge of your bed, upsetting the stuffies strewn along the headboard. you gave them an apologetic wince.

your mind kept replaying the lunchroom disaster. christian’s mocking, mean smirk as he held up a dress two times too small for you was branded into your eyelids.

“oooh, i’m sorry. i thought this was your size. looks like we can’t make it to the dance after all. i’m so sorry.”

fresh tears burst from your eyes and you choked down a sob. it was so mean, so humiliating, so evil… you didn’t understand what you’d ever done to deserve something like that. was simply existing enough of a crime to warrant that kind of punishment?

a soft knock reached your ears. you sucked in a shuddery inhale. you were wondering when she’d amble up to your door.

“i’m fine, mom.” you croaked out. “i just feel sick. please don’t come in.”

you really didn’t want her to see the fat, ugly tears running down your cheeks. didn’t want her to see how blotched your makeup was, especially not when you had spent a literal hour perfecting it in front of your mirror.

so. fucking. stupid.

your door creaked open and you nearly gasped at the familiar clunk of heavy boots across your planked floor. you snapped your head up to find eddie standing just through your doorway, chocolate eyes rounded and soft.

“you okay?” he asked quietly, soothingly, and your heart sunk.

he knew about what happened. he hadn’t been in the lunchroom at the time, but you knew it would reach him; it was all the student body could talk about.

you opened your mouth to reject his sympathy; but what came out was a strangled sob, and eddie was rushing to your side immediately.

warm, thick arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into eddie’s equally warm body. your head was guided to his collarbone, so close to his neck that you could smell his sharp cologne; a familiar, cozy, thick woodsy scent.

he’d been wearing the same aroma since eighth grade, and it never failed to bring you a sense of tranquility and stability. comfort. safety.

you broke.

“eddie.” you choked out, digging your cheek into his chest and slipping your arm around his middle. he was warm; so, so warm. just like always.

“shh, it’s okay.” eddie soothed, ringed hand running through your hair. “it’s okay, sweets.”

your shoulders shook harder as you spilled gallons of salty tears into his shirt — his iron maiden shirt, if you weren’t mistaken.

you barely noticed the way he was rocking your body with his softly, or the weight of his chin hooked atop your head, but you were painfully aware of how good his hand felt skimming through your hair, and how comfortable the weight of it was.

“i-i don’t understand.” you gasped out between heaves. “i don’t k-know w-what i did.”

“you didn’t do anything.” eddie stated, voice firm yet gentle. “you didn’t do anything, angel. they’re just assholes.”

you weren’t sure how long you spent wrapped within eddie’s embrace; his strong arms holding you, soft voice shushing you, gentle hand caressing you — but at some point, your sobs had faded to mere sniffles.

you finally felt secure enough to pry yourself out of his embrace; eddie loosened his hold, but his arm remained over your shoulder — an anchor, should you need the support.

“i’m so tired of it, eddie.” you whispered, voice wet and croaky from all the crying. “i’m so tired of being ugly.”

your heart was breaking into a million pieces, yet also somehow felt as if it was too big to fit comfortably in your chest. every beat was painful, tightly wrapped in a ribbon of sadness.

eddie sucked in air through his teeth and muttered something under his breath; you weren’t quite able to catch it, so you nudged him with your elbow.

“i didn’t hear you, eds. what did you say?”

eddie’s eyes snapped up to yours, and you felt your heart skip in your chest. they were soft, yet had a hard edge to them, one that you couldn’t place.

“i said you’re not ugly.” eddie pushed out, anger detectable in his voice, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. eddie always became incensed when things like this happened.

“that prick just took things too far.” eddie seethed, drawing a ringed hand through his hair. “way too far.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded mutely, though you didn’t know if you fully agreed with eddie. after all, if things weren’t supposed to be this way, then why were they? it’s because everything, every single word and insult, that everyone threw at you was true.

“it wouldn’t happen if i wasn’t so—”

“don’t you fucking dare.” eddie snapped, cutting you off abruptly and shocking you into silence. he’d never taken that kind of tone with you. as if realizing this himself, eddie sucked in a deep breath and started again, much more softly.

“don’t say some shit about how you deserve it, or that it’s somehow your fault. it’s not. you know it’s not.”

fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and you had to look away from eddie quickly so as to not alert him to the swelling.

“but i was stupid. i let myself think he was genuine.” you countered back, wanting — no, needing — eddie to understand that in some way, this was your fault. that was the easiest way to explain it. that it was the only way that it made sense.

“stop that.” eddie ordered, fingers squeezing your shoulder. “you aren’t stupid.”

“eddie, i am.” you exploded, propelling yourself up from the bed and effectively launching eddie’s arm off of your shoulders. you began to pace as you rambled, “i’m stupid to think anyone would want me, let alone christian grosso, and i let myself get tricked into thinking that my crush actually liked me back—”

“i want you.”

the world seemed to screech to a halt right on its axis. eddie hadn’t said the words very loud — as a matter of fact, his statement was barely more than a whisper — and yet, it seemed to reverberate around your room like the boom of a bass speaker.

slowly, you turned your head to train your eyes on him. you searched his face, looking for some sort of deception, lie, fib — anything.

but all you found was pained sincerity.

“what?” you pressed, throat tight and tongue nearly tied. had you heard him right? were you having some sort of fever dream?

eddie sighed deeply and linked his hands together between his knees.

“i said ‘i want you.’ i have for a long time, actually.”

eddie’s words didn’t sound bored, or disingenuous, but they sounded almost… resigned. as if knew what little effect they’d have on you. twice. he’d said twice. yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it.

“you — you… want me?” you parroted back, gesturing to yourself with a finger.

eddie nodded.

“are you sure?” you pressed.

eddie nodded again, more emphatically this time.

your heart was trembling in your chest — eddie actually wanted you? you? eddie, who was handsome, funny, charming, sweet, and completely and utterly unavailable due to his status as your best friend, wanted you?

no. this couldn’t be right. there must be some sort of mistake.

“but, how do you—”

“oh, jesus h. christ.” eddie suddenly bursted, pushing himself up from the bed and stomping towards you. you barely had any time to react before his hands grasped your elbows and he pulled you forward, and electricity shot through your entire body when he leaned down to press his lips firmly to yours.

the kiss was chaste, more of just a hugging of lips, but that’s how it was intended — eddie was getting a point across, and as hard as it was for you to truly believe it, you could feel it within that kiss.

the truth that eddie munson, your best friend of almost a decade, wanted you.

and that very best friend was kissing you. and it felt amazing.

your hands, as inexperienced as they were, traveled up to grip his shoulders, and you took the first step in deepening the kiss by clumsily lapping your lips over his.

eddie groaned and responded with a similar action; except, his movements were much more fluid and smooth, likely from years of experience in the field.

you hated the way that made jealousy burn in your gut.

eddie’s hands fell from your elbows to come to rest on your hips, where he gripped rather roughly. a sound similar to a moan slipped from his mouth and into yours, the sensation sending heat flooding straight to your gut.

“fuck, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to do this.” eddie panted, kneading his fingers into your hips. “just grab these beautiful fucking hips of yours.”

your stomach swooped and your skin flushed beneath his words; you felt slightly self conscious of the portion of body eddie was grabbing, but eddie seemed to fall absolutely feral over it.

his lips remained hooked to yours as he stumbled backwards, pulling you with him. you followed blindly along with him, loathe to break the hot, wet embrace between the two of you, and nearly gasped when eddie fell flat to the bed and pulled you down with him.

“eddie!” you exclaimed softly into his mouth when you realized you’d landed on top of him, but when you tried to scramble off, eddie wrapped his arms around your midsection.

“don’t even think about it.” eddie murmured, voice little more than a growl, “stay on top of me, pretty girl.”

you whimpered low in your throat, the sound swallowed by eddie’s fiery lips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wiggling in his hold. you didn’t feel comfortable like this, not in this position—

eddie rolled his hips up and completely cut off your train of thought; poking into your tummy was something hard, something hard and located between eddie’s legs.

“feel that, angel? feel what you’re doin’ to me?” eddie growled, rolling his hips in lazy thrusts. that heat in your gut intensified, and you couldn’t help it when the smallest whimper fell from your lips.

“god, you sound so fuckin’ pretty.” eddie groaned, hands smoothing down your body until they found purchase on your ass. he squeezed the flesh in his fingers and used the leverage to rock your body into his.

“wanted you for so goddamn long, i almost can’t hold myself back.”

eddie’s kiss was feverish now — not clumsy, but passionate and wet. his lips moved against yours as if he was trying to make up for years of neglect in one kiss, and his tongue and teeth scraped against your lips at intermittent points. your brain felt completely frozen, unsure of how to even match his pace.

“use your tongue, sweetheart.” eddie guided, as if reading your mind. “use your tongue like i am.”

you doubted you could use your tongue the same way eddie could use his, but you wanted to try. slipping your tongue against his felt strange, slimy, but not uncomfortable — and he tasted minty, like peppermint, so it wasn’t gross like you thought it would be.

you were certain your movements were clumsy, but they pulled satisfied groans from eddie regardless. his hips bucked up against you faster and his breathing turned shallow.

“fuck, good girl.” eddie moaned, sliding a hand up your back to tangle in your hair. he pushed you impossibly closer to him and deepened the kiss.

your entire body was buzzing, heated from the inside out, and there was a tingle between your legs. a warm, wet tingle.

“eddie,” you mewled into his mouth, hips shifting on their own, as if they were searching for something. “i feel weird.”

“i know, angel. just hold on.” eddie uttered, hips still careening into yours, hard-on grinding against you through the clothes. what was this weird pull in your stomach?

eddie’s lips remained against yours for a few more seconds, all the while you wiggled, whimpered and mewled into him, until he finally relented and pulled away.

“lay on your back, babygirl. i’m gonna show you something.” eddie prompted, voice deep gravel, eyes swallowed by black.

you swallowed when something kicked in your gut, and the moment eddie released his hold on you you scrambled off of him and fell on your back beside him. eddie was quick to mirror your actions, but rather than lying down, he crawled to the end of the bed and situated himself by your legs.

“open.” he demanded softly, and for the first time since his lips touched yours, you felt legitimate hesitance. you stared at him almost blankly, body quivering subtly in your skin. eddie arched a brow at you and fuck, that was pretty hot.

“angel, spread your legs.” eddie murmured, fingers coming up to caress the bare skin of your thigh. his voice was a rumble, enticing and sweet, but somehow comforting... like you didn't have to be afraid of obeying.

with a shaky breath you finally assented and spread your thighs open, snapping your eyes shut when eddie sucked in a sharp breath.

"fuck, look at these panties. so cute." you nearly jumped from your skin when eddie slid a finger up your mound, a sort of electric feeling throbbing through your hips when his fingertip scraped against your clit.

"they're nearly soaked through, baby." eddie cooed, continuing the stroking motions, pulling small moans and pants from your lips. “did you get this worked up just from kissing me?”

for some reason you couldn’t place, you nodded your head — it was as if you had no real control of some of your motor functions, like part of you was in some sort of trance.

“mmm, sweet baby.” eddie whispered darkly. “you have no idea what i could do to you.”

as if to punctuate his point, eddie pressed his finger to your clothed clit and rubbed, and fuck, it felt so good.

you’d touched yourself before, but never had it felt this intense. the moans that slipped from your mouth were purely lewd and near foreign.

“e-eddie, what’s—?”

“shhh, angel. don’t question anything. just feel.” eddie murmured, effectively silencing your inquiries. eddie continued to rub your clit, picking up pace as your moans grew in volume, as your hips bucked into his hand.

it felt good, so incredibly good, but the pleasure seemed muted — the friction not enough to build you up to that wonderful precipice.

“eddie—”

“yeah, baby, i know. you’re ready f’more.” eddie teased, and even with your eyes closed, you knew he was smirking. your breathing was labored, you felt desperate, it was hot—

“‘m gon’a take care of you, baby.” eddie soothed. “gon’a show you how beautiful you are.” eddie slid his hands up your thighs and dipped them beneath your skirt, fingers grasping the lace of your panties and tugging. you followed the unspoken command and lifted your hips, allowing him to slip you free of the garment.

any prior hesitation you felt had been forcefully shoved out by lust.

cold air blew against your pussy the moment it was no longer shielded, and you gasped at the sensation. you didn’t really have the time to complain about it, however, because before you could it was swallowed by heat once more.

wet heat.

your eyes popped open and you glanced down to find eddie’s head nestled between your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you as he dragged his tongue over your aching clit. he did so slowly, torturously, as if he was merely giving you a taste of what he could truly do.

you opened your mouth but all that fell out was a wanton moan. this was something completely out of your experience, something you’d only thought about fleetingly.

eddie groaned into your cunt when your clit throbbed under his tongue, and he dipped the wet muscle down to prod at your slit before slipping it back up. he was lapping at you like a dog, tongue everywhere, as if he wanted to brand the memory of your shape against it.

“eddie,” you whined, hips shaking against him. eddie let out a strange sound as he gripped at your thighs and squeezed, head shaking side to side subtly and sending shocks up your body from the new sensation.

“fuck, taste so good,” eddie whimpered into you, the sound high and needy. “can’ get ‘nough.”

you gasped and cinched your eyes shut, that tension ramping up in your gut and pulling your muscles tight. it felt so fucking good, you were going to go insane.

“mm-mm, no.” eddie suddenly growled and pinched your thigh. you jumped from the pain and snapped your eyes down to him. “fuckin’ look at me, angel. i wan’a see your face when you cum.”

despite the strong urge to look away and the undercurrent of embarrassment beneath your skin, you simply couldn’t tear your eyes away from eddie’s. satisfied with obtaining your full focus, eddie went right back to devouring you.

his tongue was demonic against your cunt, lapping at your folds and flattening across your clit. soft groans and growls fell from his lips as he munched, hands leaving finger shaped bruises on your thighs from how hard he was gripping them.

how it could feel so damn good, you didn’t know. you’d heard talk, yeah, but so many girls had also said that they’d never cum from head before… you just assumed you’d be the same.

but with the way eddie was working your cunt with his lips and tongue, you were realizing you’d be the exception.

“fuck, shit,” you whispered, eyes locked with eddie’s, staring into twin abysses. his own hips rocked into the mattress as his tongue traced over your clit, stimulating himself against your bed. and that just seemed to make it hotter.

“i’m so close.” you murmured, reverently, rendered breathless from the pleasure eddie was shoving into your system. his eyes darkened even more, if that were possible, and his movements became much more feverish. one hand slipped from your thigh and you gasped when you felt a fingertip prod at your entrance.

“eddie,” you warned, anxiety settling in your stomach. even you hadn’t put anything in there; what if it hurt?

“trust me, angel. i won’t hurt you.” eddie murmured against your cunt, tracing his finger up and down your slit. you swallowed, still hesitant, but you trusted eddie — so you nodded.

eddie groaned low in his throat and focused his tongue against your clit, assaulting it with fast flicks. his finger slipped into your entrance with nearly no resistance, and you gasped when he curled it up against something.

“there it is,” eddie cooed, pumping his finger inside you languidly. “there’s that sweet spot, baby.”

you had no idea what he was talking about — but fuck if it didn’t feel so fucking good. your fingers twisted into the blanket beneath you, lips swollen and wet, throat nearly sore from all the moaning.

eddie fucked his finger into you at a near brutal speed, hitting that spot over and over, and you could feel it building — powerful and intense, nearly rupturing your stomach from how tense your muscles were. you couldn’t help the way you thrusted your hips against his face, against his tongue, shoving his finger deeper inside you.

chasing it. that euphoric high.

“fuck yeah, shit. c’mon angel, bust in my fuckin’ mouth.” eddie growled, and that was it — one final jab to that spot, one more flick of his tongue, and you were absolutely losing it.

your thighs and hips quaked as that coil finally snapped, fluid gushing around eddie’s finger and undoubtedly soaking the bed, walls fluttering and clit throbbing under his tongue.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—” you chanted, eyes rolling back as your muscles continued to tense and release. eddie lapped his tongue around his finger, groaning at your sweet taste.

your orgasm was slow to recede, the aftershocks still wracking your body when eddie slipped his finger out and rose to his knees — if your vision wasn’t so fuzzy you would have noticed the prominent wet spot covering the front of his jeans.

exhaustion crawled into your limbs with frightening speed, your muscles almost like jelly, and when eddie flopped down at your side and gathered you into his arms you were little help with it.

“do you believe me now, angel?” eddie murmured, and all you could do was nod sleepily. the edges of your vision was turning black, sleep well on its way to claiming you.

“good. don’t you ever forget it.” was the last thing you heard before you fell to the abyss, warm, satisfied, and comfortable.

completely and utterly loved.

[maple13]

✨uni rant time ✨ 

I feel like i should just quit at this point.I chose this one bc the classes looked cool and i didnt for a moment think about what job i actually wanted.Now,i still dont know what job i want.But i just didnt think that far.......Sure i like drawing and shit but being an actualy industial designer feels...a lot...it seems super duper competitive(i hate competition) and super duper dependent on putting in tons and tons and tons of work and money for a CHANCE to make it...And i simply think i can not survive that lifestyle.And also it seems like i have to fracture myself and my time in two.I love anything artistic and it is what i want to do long term kinda.But industrial design ≠ art.And being artistic is actually a bad thing it seems in that indusrty. And its just to a point that i just.im done.

[foxgirlmoth]

I feel like spiraling is always described as a quick thing but let me tell you. Girls will get afraid and slowly spiral for months I think.

[astral-catastrophe]

That moment you realize you never properly got to be a kid and now that you’re a year away from being an adult everything feels wrong

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!

Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭

Wc: 764

Felix Catton Masterlist

"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.

"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.

Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.

"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.

"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.

~

"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.

You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.

“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.

“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.

“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.

Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.

Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.

“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.

“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.

“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”

~

“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.

“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.

“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.

Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.

Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.

“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.

“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.

~

Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.

The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.

With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.

“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.

You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.

Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.

The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.

Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.

Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.

“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.

“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.

“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.

He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.

“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.

Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.

"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.

Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.

He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.

Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.

The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.

Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.

A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.

"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.

"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.

A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.

The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."

Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.

Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."

[kurooh]

— SPELLBOUND ! . . geto suguru

⊹₊˚. while he’s out on a mission, suguru absorbs a special cursed spirit.

☆☆ 18+ content (mdni), fem! reader, unprotected sex, creampies, breeding, squirting, 1 face slap, slight exhibitionism, reader works in an office, NOT proofread..

all he can do is run faster through the hallways of your workplace, heels hitting the floor rather roughly as suguru increases his pace. dark hair that’s usually bound in a neat bun and resting against his shoulders is currently tousled, sticking to his sweaty face. god, he’d been pulling his hair so much he made himself look like he’d lost a fight with a leaf blower.

security had initially been after him when he raced through the turnstiles in the lobby, but he’d been faster as he made it onto the elevator. ordinarily, suguru would’ve felt badly for causing such a scene, but this couldn’t be helped.

he’d been out on a mission, tracking a special grade cursed spirit in the depths of the city. according to some intel garnered through extensive monitoring of the area, he’d come to learn that this cursed spirit wasn’t just any cursed spirit…

this was some kind of humanoid curse that couldn’t be wrangled by local sorcerers and had even slipped up some sent over from jujutsu high. naturally, suguru had to get ahold of the curse and add it to his collection of special grades. now, he’d heard a few embarrassed testimonies about the curse’s technique impacting bodies and minds for a day or so.

suguru hadn’t expected the fight for submission to go as fast as it did, and he certainly didn’t expect the sudden surge of lust throughout his whole body the second he choked it down. unlike most other curses, this one was hot on his tongue and tasting of spice and sweetness.

suguru’s chest heaves as his feet skid to a stop on the carpet, right in front of your office door. without even bothering to knock, he throws the door open, effectively startling you.

“ah! suguru? what the hell are you doing here? i thought you were busy tracking—”

you take him in, eyes wandering over his broad frame. suguru’s a mess, face flushed and sweaty; his hair’s unruly and looks as though it was ripped from its bun in some kind of panic. looking closely at his eyes, you notice a lilac glow encircling his pupils, coloring over his usually brown irises.

“sugu?” you ask softly, taking a step closer. “hey, what happened? you look terrible, is everything okay?”

he groans loudly in response, hips banging against your desk as he slams his hands down on some papers.

“lock the door,” suguru musters, hanging his head as he tries to decide how to explain this mess to you. he hadn’t been affected after absorbing a curse since he was just a first year at jujutsu high, throwing up all over gojo after his new rainbow dragon wouldn’t settle down in his belly.

“will you tell me what’s going on, damn it?”

suguru whirls around, clothing looser than it had been before you’d turned to lock your office door. “i-it’s the fucking curse i was after! right after i absorbed it, i started feeling like this.”

“meaning?”

“i’m sure this sounds insane, but it was an aphrodisiacal kind of curse.. so essentially, my body and mind are aroused to a level beyond my control.” the silent implication behind suguru’s words has excitement and anticipation swirling throughout your body, cumulating between your thighs and dampening your panties.

with one look shared between the two of you and a quiet exhale, you rush forward and melt into him, his arms strong and chest sturdy against your smaller frame. dark strands brush against your cheeks as he tips his head forward to take the lead in a hot kiss.

rather quickly, his tongue is passing between your lips as his teeth clash against your own in a desperate attempt for more of you. more of your taste, made up from the sticky sweetness of your lipgloss and mixed notes of your afternoon coffee.

suguru reverses your positions easily, and suddenly you can feel how fucking thick he is through a few layers of clothing. you twist your hips, attempting to hump on his clothes cock, and he pulls your hand from his, guiding it to the bulge.

he’s struggling with your nimble fingers touching his cock just right, the sudden urge to cum rising inside him.

“ughhh, shit..”

quickly, suguru adjusts you; the small of your back hits the edge of the desk before your ass is scraping against it as he pushes you on top.

“off,” is all he commands as he drags his casual shirt and pants off, eyeing your neatly pressed pants and almost fully buttoned blouse. in this state, he’s doing his utmost to hold back for you — god, he would’ve ripped all your clothes off long ago.

“okay if i’m rough, sweetheart?”

your needy little ‘please’ along with your office slacks hitting the floor has him leaning you back onto the desk, papers flying in every direction.

although he always likes to drag out the foreplay and prep, suguru doesn’t waste any fucking time as he spreads your thighs and spits on your clit before diving right in to devour you.

“a-ah, shit!” you exclaim, voice pitched and shaking almost immediately. “sugu, lick my clit harder.. yes, just like that!”

large hands pressing down hard on your squirming thighs keeps you in place from moving anywhere but towards him and your orgasm. a mixture of your slick and his spit dribbles down his chin, catching the light as he leans up for a brief breath.

“oh—! feels amazing, sugu, ‘m gonna cum soon!”

weakly, you raise your head to observe the way he’s ravaging you, hungry for no one except you. your tits bounce as your body twitches, falling over the cups of your bra and almost through the half undone blouse.

you sit upwards, and he lets you go so you can wrap your thighs around his head. soon the blouse falls to the ground, discarded, and your bra follows suit.

“s-suguru, ‘m gonna— ‘m gonna cum!”

you bite down hard on your fingers as he lifts you and drags you up and down his face, slurping every last drop of your taste. he groans faintly as he licks your inner thighs clean, despite the fact that he’ll be making them messy again pretty soon.

“on your belly, sweet thing.” suguru punctuates his words with a smarting slap to your ass cheek when you turn over, and he picks up your panties from the floor. the lace is sticky with the mess you’d made getting so horny when he’d been kissing you.

he balls them up and shoves them into your open mouth, then circles the desk so as to position himself behind you. suguru can’t help but groan as he finally takes off his boxers, letting his cock rest on your ass before he moves any further. without wasting much time outside of your cunt, he spits on his cock and lubes it up.

he’s hot and heavy, then thick and absolutely throbbing as he nudges his sticky tip forward and between your slippery folds.

“fuck—! ughhh, shit, sweetheart,” he feels as though a bucket of water has been splashed on him, the heat and wetness of your cunt addicting as it envelops his cock fully.

you whine a little from the stretch, bouncing your ass on him as you try to adjust completely. with a hand planted firmly on the wood of the desk and the other pressing into the plush skin of your hip, suguru advances forward, driving his hips into you mercilessly.

“suguru!” a near scream of pleasure almost rips from you, but thank god he’d gagged you with those panties.

“shhh, you need to stay quiet, sweetheart,” he chokes out, the lilac glow in his eyes growing brighter right before they roll back into his head. “y-you’re real tight, baby, ‘nd you’re taking me so fucking well, shit.”

suguru is literally drilling you into the desk, but it’s still not enough for him. he only moves faster and harder, leaning his body over yours to nip at your jaw, nudging your burning cheek with his nose.

“i’ve been waiting to use your pussy like this since i got cursed,” he grunts, satisfied at the way your eyes roll back into your head at his words.

with each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls, you reach your orgasm quickly. your body twists beneath his as you sob, clenching on him and all over.

however, a rare pressure coils in your pelvis; tight and hot and ready to come out, all over him.

“sugu, ‘m gonna cum.. fuck, i-i think i’m gonna—”

your voice raises, words spoken fast and sounding just a little panicked. after all, it’s not like you squirt that often with suguru, and especially not on your work desk in your workplace with your coworkers walking the halls.

what if you got your papers and stationary all wet like this, by being nasty?

“go ahead ‘n make a mess, sweet thing,” his voice rumbles in his chest behind you, low and exuding hunger. “all over me, yeah?”

“a-are you sure?” you gasp, liquid already starting to drip from your pussy; you can barely feel it since he’s fucking it away.

displeased, suguru raises his hand and lightly slaps your cheek, just enough to sting but burn.

“of course i’m sure,” he grunts, eyes meeting yours as you tearfully turn back to look at him. “give it to me.”

just his words have your eyes rolling back as you cum on command — puffy cunt clenching as liquid sprays onto his pelvis and balls. he lets go too, pulling out and jerking his cock onto your pussy.

“fuckkk, sweetheart..”

suguru’s eyes, still glowing, fall shut as his cock shoots cum all over your quivering pussy; your cum mixes with his and starts to run off your clit, and you lean up to start cleaning yourself.

a strong hand presses right into the middle of the back and pushes you down immediately.

“sugu, we have to clean up, what’re you—”

“don’t play dumb,” he sighs, impatient as he rubs his tip in the mess covering your pussy before pushing back in.

you let out a choked gasp, which is unheard over the sounds of sticky skin smacking against skin. he removes his hand from your back and spreads your asscheeks, giving himself a nice view of your rear.

“one orgasm won’t relieve the curse, sweetheart.”

it doesn’t take much for you to melt, losing all your resolve as he fucks you into the desk with little mercy. your face’s pressed into the wood as tears pour down your cheeks, lips parted by sounds you couldn’t even think about holding back.

“i-it’s gonna happen again,” you mewl, unable to sit up or move much as you squirt on him yet again. the spray soaks some papers, and his pelvis, drops of liquid sparkling in dark hairs.

thoroughly fucked out and unable to count how many times you’ve cum, you wail his name, only one thing in your head.

“put a baby in me, suguru. fill me up, please.”

“oh yeah? that’s what you want?” tears of overstimulation build in his eyes but he just can’t stop fucking you. the position, view, sounds, feelings, place, all of it — he doesn’t want to stop.

“fill me up,” you cry again, pushing yourself closer to him.

“i’d much rather see your face as i stuff you full, baby,” and with that he’s pulling out of you, as painful as it is, and flipping you over with ease.

drool runs down your chin as you blink up at him blearily, not one single thought behind your teary eyes. your face crumbles as he pushes inside you, back arching off the desk.

“my baby’s been fucked dumb,” suguru laughs, glancing at your bouncing tits and rock hard nipples. “look at me when i cum, hm?”

you force your eyes open, noticing the tears in his own. he looks beyond amazing — face flushed, eyes squinted as his orgasm rushes up, long dark locks a mess behind him.

“i’ll put a baby in you,” he grunts, tone sounding just the slightest bit competitive.

inside you, suguru thickens and throbs before he loudly chokes out a groan and finally cums inside you. the warmth of his cum inside you has you squirting again, the slightest bit of liquid running down the base of his aching cock.

“think that’s enough, suguru?” you gasp, leaning your head back, body entirely limp.

he pulls out, hissing softly at the loss of your warmth. cum floods out of you, staining your skin as some drips to the floor.

“i could always eat you out..” he offers, grinning slyly.

“suguru, you just—”

a hasty knock on the door has you sitting straight up, limbs aching from being pressed into the desk as much as they were. suguru’s eyes widen, as do yours, as reality hits the two of you like a goddamn truck.

you recognize your boss when she calls your name, and a few of your coworkers’ voices. “is everything alright? we’ve been hearing continuous thudding outside of your office. the office has just been locked down, since some random ran in past security.”

you smack suguru’s shoulder, face contorting.

he shrugs dramatically before grabbing some tissues to wipe up your thighs, himself, and the sprayed liquid covering the wood of your desk.

“ma’am, we will be coming into your office. this is necessary security protocol.”

[giamee]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

[creative-crybaby]

Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

You’re going to kill him. 

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it. 

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride. 

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin. 

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt. 

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables. 

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else. 

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position. 

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done. 

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan. 

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you. 

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein. 

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy. 

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid. 

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process. 

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?” 

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway. 

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job. 

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets. 

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily. 

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor. 

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?

Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…

Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)

“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.

Peter Parker. Bullseye.

You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.

It was too close to yours for your liking.

“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.

“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”

“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.

For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.

Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.

“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.

“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.

You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.

You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.

“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”

He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.

—————————————————————————

It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.

The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.

Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?

Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).

Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.

You: Who is this?

Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.

You: I think you have the wrong number.

You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.

Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?

You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.

Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?

Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.

You: How did you even get my number anyways?

Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)

Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.

You: I’m sure.

Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?

You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.

Peter: You’ll regret that pips.

You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.

Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.

————————————————————————————

It was disappointment.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.

Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.

Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.

Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.

Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.

“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.

“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”

“Two papers and exam prep. You?”

“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.

He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.

“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.

“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.

Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.

Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.

You were so incredibly fucked.

———————————————————

You took a deep breath. Then another.

You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.

You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.

All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.

You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.

Fuck it.

You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.

You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.

How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.

“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.

“I was admiring the greenery.”

“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.

He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.

“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.

You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.

“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.

Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.

Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.

“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”

He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.

You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.

You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.

“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.

“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.

You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.

“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”

His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”

Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.

“Don’t start with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.

“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”

“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.

“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.

“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”

You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.

“Elaborate Parker.”

He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”

You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.

“Hmm. I like it.”

“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.

“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”

He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”

You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”

“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”

You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.

He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.

“You’re gross Parker.”

“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”

You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.

“Whatever you say pip.”

“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.

—————————————————————

A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.

Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.

“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.

“Some research paper. Here.”

You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.

Fuck.

He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.

He was still staring.

Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.

You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.

“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”

“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.

He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.

“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.

“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.

You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?

You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.

Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.

“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”

His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.

“How much more?”

His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.

Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.

Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.

You hated that you found it hot.

He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.

“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.

“I won’t. Will you?”

“I might.”

His smile grew.

“ I still hate you, you know.”

“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.

A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?

Because he was so fucking fine.

A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.

“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”

“Mhm. But you hate me.”

He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.

Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.

“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.

Yes. Yes, please.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.

Until he just… stopped.

Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?

“Parker?”

He smiled coyly.

“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.

“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”

“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.

“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.

Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.

“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.

[evie-sturns]

you want to? - matt sturniolo

summary: when you ask your classmate matt for a ride home after school, you find out hes a virgin, how could you not offer to change that?

contains: smut, semi-sub!matt, virgin!matt, swearing.

--------------------└── •✧• ──┘------------——-

the deafening bell rings throughout my math classroom, signalling the end of the day. i look down at my phone which reads 3:00pm, i instantly start to pack up my books more than ready to leave.

i watch the brunette boy to my left swing his bag over his shoulders, he doesn't say much but i'm pretty sure his names matt, i'm quite close with his brother nick but i've never got to know him personally.

i follow close behind him as he walks through the hallway.

we exit through the doors of the school, i decide to make my move now, needing a desperate ride home.

"uh- matt!" i call out walking up beside him, he looks over at me fixing the frame of his dark brown glasses.

"yeah?" he replies softly,

it shouldn't be wrong of me to ask for a ride, i've seen him briefly while i've been round at nicks house, and we got paired up for a group project in 9th grade where i spoke to him for a week.

"this is like- really random but do you mind giving me a ride home, i think my house is just down the street to yours and my car broke down this morning." i ramble

"oh- yeah, okay- thats fine." he says nervously "thank you so much" i let out a sigh of relief.

matt and i walk in silence to his car, his lips are red from where hes been biting them.

he opens the door for me, i jump in the passenger seat. the whole car is clean except for a camera battery and an empty mcdonald's cup.

he jumps in as well, "sorry if this is an inconvenience, i'll venmo you gas money and extra." i say.

"no- don't worry about it, it's fine." matt instantly replies.

i decide to start up a conversation, not wanting to sit in silence for the whole 20 minute ride.

"hows nick?" i ask, "hes okay, i think hes just weirded out about the whole audrey situation."

audrey is nick's best friend, who recently became hated at our school for sleeping with a whole friend group then lying to everyone and saying they made her do it.

"oh yeah!? she fucked that whole group of guys oh god." i exclaim, causing matt to tense up, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight.

"you okay? sorry- do you know audrey"

he shakes his head "i don't know her."

"oh you just went tense about the audrey fucking." i repeat, he laughs slightly, the tips of his ears go red.

"have you never had sex?" i ask, my head spinning round to look at him.

his cheeks go a deep red, he takes a hand off the wheel to rubs his eye under his glasses.

"i- yeah- no.. i dont know" he mutters, "you don't know if you've had sex?" i smile,

"i don't know- no" he says awkwardly with a grin.

"oh, thats fine!" i reply,

"you want to?" i continue, matt goes silent. i instantly regret my words, i didn't mean to make matt uncomfortable but it was just a genuine question.

"sorry." i instantly follow my words up, my tone less.. loud.

"yeah, i think i do" matt almost whispers as though he can't get any louder.

i nod my head understandingly , "you got anyone you want to loose it to, or not really?"

matt seems to grow a little more comfortable, his deathly grip on the wheel loosening

"i can't say" he laughs slightly "i mean i'm almost 18 and both my brothers won't stop yapping about their hook ups." he sighs

"do you want to.. with me?" i ask quietly, the words leaving my mouth before i can process

"but only if you want-" i instantly say after.

his head snaps round to look at me, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly. "you- what" he smiles slightly, his eyebrows twisting as his cheeks flush

i stay silent, maintaining eye contact for a couple seconds.

"yeah, okay thank you" his says breathlessly, looking back to the road

"you can uh- come back to my house, nick and chris are at hockey and my parents are away for 2 weeks." matt says, trying to sound confident.

i nod, "yeah okay!"

-

3:42pm

matt pulls into his driveway, we've been having small talk for the past 5 minutes the rest of the way.

i open the door to his car, stepping out onto the concrete. i follow matt inside his house, i'm more than used to being in his house, execpt its usually with nick to hang out, not with his triplet brother to hook up.

i take his hand, he guides us upstairs into his bedroom. i lock the wooden door behind us.

"so uh, where do we start?" matt laughs nervously, reaching a hand up and scratching the side of his head.

i get on my tip-toes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a kiss. he hesitates for a second before kissing me back.

it quickly turns into a makeout, i push him back onto the bed before straddling him.

i grind against the fabric of his jeans, matt lets out a pathetic whimper against my lips clearly sensitive.

i pull away for a second to pull my shirt up over my head, revealing the pink lace of my bra. matt shamelessly stares at my tits, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

after a solid 25 seconds of staring he pulls his navy blue crewneck off over his head, his middle part flopping on his forehead.

his breathing picks up as i unclasp my bra, letting it fall down onto his chest. i instantly feel a bulge feel underneath me, his face growing red.

i fix his glasses on his face lingering my fingers on his skin for longer than needed, "oh my god" i hear him whisper under his breath, i shift off his lap onto the floor, matt sits on the edge of the bed.

i fidget with the buckle of his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans before unbuttoning the button of his jeans and shimmying the fabric down his thighs.

i don't waste time to yank down his boxers, his erection springs out. matt's tip is slightly more red than his lips, now begging to be touched.

"you ready sweetheart?" i ask him, dragging my nails up and down his thighs.

"yeah- yes please." he nods, i wrap my hand around his length and pumping slowly, i look up at him and his head falls back "fuck.." he groans as i wrap my lips around his tip.

i circle my tongue just around his tip teasingly but it seems to be enough for matt already.

i slowly take more of him in my mouth, taking most of his dick down my throat.

"oh my god oh my god-" matt whimpers as i bob my head up and down,

my pace quickens everytime matt makes noise, only driving me to take more of him. i feel him twitch, meaning he's close already.

after matt bucks his hips up i pull off of him, edging him. "please" matt starts but i cut him off "don't want you to cum yet, don't wanna overstimulate you okay?"

he nods, i get up off the floor to straddle the top of his thighs again, his dick resting against my lower stomach.

"tell me what you want matt." i say, fixing his hair which rests against the glass of his glasses. "please?" matt whispers.

"please what." i tease, kneeling on either side of his legs and pulling down my shorts and panties in one tug. "ride me.." he says shyly. i smile before hovering myself above his tip, slowly sinking down onto his tip.

"oh my god" he groans, i let out a soft groan as i sink further down his length, i grab his wrists and place his ringed hands on my waist instead of him balling up the sheet.

"feels so good" he mumbles shakily, i start to bounce slowly up and down on his dick.

i let out strings of moans as his grip tightens on my waist "please please-" he whines, i start to pick up my pace.

"matt- you wanna try being on top?" i ask quickly, he hesitates before nodding his head eagerly.

he flips us over impressively easily, "grab my ankles" i tell him which he does, his two large hands grabbing my ankles and pushing them down by my ears, i nod.

he starts to thrust into me, matt's middle part flops on his head, his glasses shifting.

"fuck- 'm so close" he groans "you got it matt" i breathe out

matt pulls out, instantly releasing on my stomach as his glasses fall off, landing on my chest.

he flops down next to me on the bed panting, his arms laying across his forehead.

i scoot closer to matt's side, "you okay?" i ask, he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, a small smile forming on his face.

"you don't understand how long i've wanted that with you." he laughs slightly, "with me?" i reply, my eyes widening slightly

"yeah- i don't know." he sits up, rubbing his eyes. i sit up next to him, grabbing his glasses off my chest and holding them up

i slide the glasses onto his face, his cheeks still flushed

"we should do this again sometime" he suggests awkwardly,

"good idea matt" i smile, pressing a quick kiss to his red lips.

---------------------------------

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209

[andersonfilms]

❝ TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU ❞

pairing. abby anderson x fem!reader x owen!pissoff

TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU, being friends with benefits with abby is no easy feat, continuously finding yourself at odds with what you know is logic and a heavy heart but at tess and joel’s wedding, push comes to shove. putting you and abby between a rock and a hard place.

★ warnings y disclaimers. eighteen+, wedding!au, cheating, friends to lovers (kinda?), abby in a fucking suit, lowkey!mean abby, smidge of sub!abby, slight daddy!kink, angst + fluff + smut ps the whole trifecta, light bondage (r!tied up), fingering, 69ing, pussy munching, anal teasing, mean!abby, sub!reader, reader desc. feminine, anti-owen energy, lowkey mel slander.

wc. 21k+

hi guys! it's finally here! m'so proud of this one created with my love, @absfawn. this baby is our pride and joy, we had the most fun writing this together and hope y'all enjoy it as well. if you like it, let us know! feedback truly means a lot. anyways, happy reading!

Things have always been challenging for both of you. From the moment you met, friendship blossomed, sustaining for years, longer than Abby expected. She’s grateful for you but doesn’t know how you still tolerate her. An inkling can be found in the pit of her stomach, and every time her gaze catches you, there’s a hope that terrifies her. Almost a promise or a future she knows she wants but doesn’t think she can ever have. 

It’s been like this since the moment the two of you met. 

She remembers the first time she spoke of you, with Tess and Joel at the monthly dinner they had every first of the month, the light in her bright blues putting the full moon to shame. While Joel just chucked it up to a blossoming friendship, Tess could see something different — something bright. It shocked Tess even more when Abby brought Owen when she came to visit and not you. Her shine didn’t exist when Abby was with her boyfriend, but it did with you. Just a few months later, Tess met you, and she chucked when she saw how Abby couldn’t keep your eyes off of you. She constantly tended to you, ensuring you were comfortable, or the not-so-subtle hand rubbing your thigh sweetly. 

Joel was clueless about the behavior, but Tess could see it clearly as day. 

Tess had never seen Abby so full of joy, not since her mother had so tragically been taken away from her. 

Ever since her mother’s passing, Tess has been the one to take her under her protective wing. She was one of the very few Abby couldn’t count on, gracious to be there to hold her hand and wipe her tears when she lost her mother in her early teen years. As much as Abby loves her Father, the moments she misses her mom are more vigorous than one would like to admit. The specific way she would braid her golden hair or the tender kiss she would leave on her temple before she wished Abby goodnight. Her age didn’t matter; her mom never let her feel unloved from the moment she held her as a newborn. Abby’s curious eyes were all it took for mom to be enamored with her daughter. 

When her grades started slipping, and her absence at school became apparent, her soccer coach snapped her out. She let Abby talk about her mom when her Father, Jerry, was too weak to discuss the elephant in the room. Abby never blames him; she is the love of his life, and he mourns her every day. He looks at her bright blues, and the touch of green surrounding the irises reflects her mothers. She also talked about how soft spoken Abby is, how particular she is with her tidiness, and how she learned to braid her hair like her mother used to. 

Ever since then, the bond they shared nearly became unbreakable. 

Tess never had a child of her own, and she never could either, but with Abby, it almost felt like she was one of her own—the adoptive daughter she didn’t even know she needed but couldn’t imagine her life without. Even if Abby has to take a flight to see her, they never miss their Sunday afternoon call, where they catch up on the nonsense in both of their lives. 

It’s one of the most incredible comforts Abby has. She’ll treasure it for as long as she has Tess, her second chance at a mother’s love, she likes to call it. However, Abby couldn’t get away with hiding in the dark sometimes because of how close they were. Especially when she brought you over for the holidays for the first time. 

Two Years Earlier…

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Owen or you and her, but don’t mess it up with her.” Tess mumbles as they watch from a distance. There you are, Joel, and you, her Father, Jerry, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. You look happy. It brings a delightful smile to Abby. It feels right, you being here with her, how easy all of it is except for why it’s so painfully not. 

“Yeah, I might be putting my foot in my mouth with this one,” Abby admits. She sips on the chilled beer you brought her a few moments ago. 

“Something is going on, isn’t it? Showing up with her instead of Owen is surely saying something.” Tess huffs out ironically. “Can’t imagine one like that is too keen on someone other than himself taking up time in your life.” 

“I suppose something is going on,” Abby says so quickly that Tess almost misses it. 

“Abigail Anderson.” 

“I know! Okay, I’ll stop it. I just—” She pauses to look at you, making an effort with her Father as Jerry’s probably telling you some old joke you’ve already heard three too many times, but you humor him. 

“You love her.” 

“I don’t—” 

“Don’t even, Abigail.” The older woman bites back. Abby opens her mouth to say a line of defense, but it says so openly that she thinks a fly might go ahead and make a home. 

Tess has always been a no bullshit kind of woman. She was never one to beat around the bush; she always directly called out Abby on her own shit. When it stunk, she would be the first to tell her. 

“I don’t have to tell you how this looks, do I?” 

“Nope. We’re crystal clear.” 

Dinner goes off without a hitch. There is roasted ham—the biggest ham Abby has ever seen—mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, beets, sweet potatoes, and her favorite—apple pie. Everyone digs in rather quickly. The Southern meal does wonders for the heart but silences the makeshift family. Abby can hear Joel moan as he stuffs his mouth full of potatoes. 

Her dad keeps the conversation light, asking where Ellie is. Apparently, her flight got snowed in. She missed the original flight due to not setting an alarm, resulting in oversleeping an hour past her flight. Everyone is quietly talking when you notice some gravy dribbling down her lips. 

“Here, Abs, let me get it.” Instead of using your napkin to clean up the mess, your thumb wipes it off her pink and pouty lips, doing it all with a sweet smile on your face. As if it had never happened, you dig back into your food. 

You miss it. 

Tess gives Abby a deadly look, her eyes bugging at the mannerisms. How close the two of you must be that Abby, who isn’t one for physical touch, let you do something so intimate and so easily at that. Raising her eyebrows as if to signal if it genuinely happened, Abby measly shrugged at Tess as if it was no big deal. 

The rest of the night, Abby was mindful of how close they got to you, but you seemed to really not give a fuck. After you were done eating, your head resting on her shoulder as you lightly engaged in conversation, the food doing its job, nearly subduing you into a small comatose. 

No more than a few hours later, you have a glass of wine as you sit next to Abby, joking with Joel as you rub the back of her muscular back. Drawing random patterns on her spine as she nearly moans from the tingles sent through your body. 

This is everything Abby wants at her fingertips; you are everything she’s ever wanted. The way you’re so soft, delicate when you handle other people, how when you comfort her, it’s the warmest she’s felt in god knows how long. She thinks of Owen and how he makes her feel, but it doesn’t make her feel anything at times, not the intensity she feels in the rapid beat of her heart each time she feels your comforting touch or your sweet voice dripping honey all over her. 

Life has always been in black and white — good and bad choices for her. 

But none of this seemed to be that simple. 

Especially since she’s the said person making the questionable decisions. Desperately, she finds herself forced to think of it each time Tess throws her a glance each time you do something entirely too intimate for a platonic, casual friend. Nothing about this is purely a token of friendship, but the only person questioning it is the woman who knows her like the back of her hand. 

The last night she’s there, her urges give in, especially when you’re begging for it. It’s not even thirty minutes since you went to the guest bedroom, separate from her own, and you’re knocking on her door. Your pupils are dilated, thighs rubbing against one another, your perky tits visible through the think tank top and pajama shorts you’re wearing. 

It isn’t long before you’re in her bed, deliciously placed on top of her with you, with your slick folds gliding against her. Even with as good as it feels, how close Abby knows she’s getting, the tight knot in her stomach begging to be released, she savors the moment. It’s a slight tick she has, watching you as you use her body to feel the euphoric rise. The headboard creaks as you roll your hips. Abby should care that someone might hear them, but when your pace increases, her body twitches, and she loses control, finding it difficult for anything else to cross her mind. The irresistible high Abby rides sends you into your own, your body collapsing on top of her. 

With the palm of her hands, she soothes your back, rubbing her hands up and down your spine, your body shaking from the orgasm. 

Maybe it’s the holidays or seeing you with her family. The words she desperately wants to say threaten to spill over her tongue. Almost as if you can sense it, your lips find hers as you reach backward to grab her hands, intertwining them with your own before pinning them over her head. A flutter fills the blonde as you kiss along her jaw sweetly before finding her lips again, telling her everything you know the both of you can’t say. 

’Cause the reality is Abby isn’t yours to hold, but the two of you will keep pretending like she is. You fall asleep cuddled into her frame, your soft breath grazing into her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Just like every night this happens, Abby can’t sleep. 

From a very young age, Abby has always been one to worry, keeping her up all night. Her mother had to convince her to take melatonin, which dissolves on her tongue just so she could get sleep throughout grade school. As the years passed, her life became more complicated, and the amount of sleep she got seemed to decrease substantially. 

Carefully, she untangles her limbs, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. She blows a puff of smoke, swinging back and forth on the porch swing, and the moonlight kisses her cheeks. As much as Abby likes to deny it, the holidays make her miss home, but she’s found another thousands of miles away that’s hard to give up. 

Of course, Tess can’t sleep either. 

She takes the bud from Abby’s grip and takes a hit herself. 

“You know these are so bad for you.” Tess shakes her head, the draw she has peeping through. 

“Not bad enough for you, huh?” Abby giggles as Tess rolls her eyes. If she looks closely enough, she sees the little thirteen year old mama’s girl before her eyes. The sentiment nearly makes Tess’ eyes water. It’s been such a long time since she’s seen the bright-eyed athlete this blissful. “Guess not, Abigail.” 

“Jerry was talkin’ about you and her after y’all retreated for the night.” Abby’s eyes quirk up, her body language becoming rigid at the mention of you. She tries to ease her nerves, taking another hit as she allows the cannabis to infiltrate her lungs, almost holding a candle to the insatiable addiction she has for you. “Oh yeah?” 

She passes the joint back to Tess as she takes another hit, blowing it into the crispy fall wind as it kisses the oak tree hovering over the house. Abby isn’t sure why it puts her own edge or why there is a need to protect you from any further suspicions. The status of her current relationship, the one she has with you, why Owen isn’t here with her, and why you are. It’s an answer she doesn’t really have yet.  

“Less arguing with her than Owen. It’s what he joked about, nothing serious. Unwound that neck of yours, thought you’d be less tense with all that creaking.” 

“Tess!” 

“What? I’m old, not deaf.” 

Abby can’t help the blush creeping up her neck, crawling to her freckled cheeks. She doesn’t want to smile or expose her feelings about you more than tonight, but she fails. It creeps on her just like you have. The only thing she’s sure of is it won’t halt anytime soon. This deep hole she’s dug herself in just gets her closer to hell, but sinning has never felt so euphoric. She feels it every time your sweet taste dances on her tongue or your giggle is so light it fills everyone in the room with joy. Her favorite has to be your smile. Abby swears she’s seeing an angel for the first time. 

“Just say it. If you can’t tell anyone else, tell me. You can’t tell her right now, or that girl will run in another direction, leaving you with that sorry excuse for a man by your side.” Tess huffs as Abby rolls her eyes. 

“He’s not that bad.” 

“He must be that bad if you’re hooking up with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, Abigail.” Abby’s mouth opens, and no words manage to crawl out as she looks at Tess with wide eyes. Sure, she was a blunt and honest person most of the time, but she could have saved Abby the trouble of being so fucking honest for just a moment. Just to save her already breaking heart. 

“S’not what it is—”

“No?” Tess cocked her head to the side, looking at Abby silently, almost as if she was trying to figure her out. “Then what is it? Just us here, Abby. Like I said if you can’t turn to anyone else and speak to them about whatever the fuck is going on, at least speak to me. Is that not what I told you years ago? If you are ever having a problem or an issue, you come to me, and I will do my best to help you.”

Abby lowers her head in shame or frustration—she has no idea which—and inhales deeply. “It’s s’not that easy. You think me sitting here, smoking with you, is going to make it easier? Because I won’t. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”

“Because I love you, and I don’t want to see you or anyone else hurt in the process.” She’s blunt again, but her serious face falters just a little bit when Abby nods slowly. “Abby—”

“You don’t understand. You don’t understand how much it hurts,” Her blue eyes pierce into Tess’s, and she feels her heart break piece by piece. “You don’t, you have Joel, you have each other, a love you share doesn’t always happen to everyone else. I won’t get a love like yours because m’just fucking up my life by hurting everyone who walks into it. Owen doesn’t even look at me the same anymore, and what am i supposed to do? Slap on a smile and act like that’s fuckin normal? And when he is fine? It’s not important enough for him to see. Being with her is something I haven’t felt or had before.”

“You either tell her you love her or you end it, s’’not right, and you know it. You’re just stringing her along.” 

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Abby scoffs and tugs at her hair with a soft growl under her breath. “You think I don’t think about that whenever I tell her to leave? Even though she can make my shitty night into something perfect? Do you think m’not thinking that the entire time? What do you want me to say to her? I love you, but I can’t ruin your life because I love fucking up mine?” She laughs, one Tess can smell is fake, and shrugs to herself. 

“Everything I’ve had, or had, gets taken from me, and when I find the one thing that m’here for, and I can’t do anything but see her behind closed doors, those stupid glances and smiles that make my heart feel like it’s going to rip out my chest? That’s what is fucking keeping me alive. Just to see her fuckin face, to see her smile, makes me feel alive. It makes me feel again.” Abby finally looks up at Tess, the walls she’s built up for years slowly crack. “You think I don’t know m’breaking her heart because I have no idea what I'm doing with my life right now? You're wrong if you think I don’t because I spend endless nights hating myself for it. No one will ever hate me more than I hate myself, Tess.”

For once, Tess is stunned into silence. Abby closed herself off from friends and family as she grew older, never opening up about her feelings and emotions. Even if people said it wasn’t a healthy thing to do, she never listened and kept at it. “No one hates you, Abby.” Her voice is quiet and cautious as she reaches for Abby’s hand, a hand that’s suddenly grown colder as the minutes pass.

“I hate myself,” Abby’s voice cracks, a younger shell of herself clawing its way out. “I hate myself and don’t know what to do.”

“You need to start being honest with yourself, Abby.” Tess smiled, reaching up and wiping Abby’s tears away with a soft touch. “How badly do you love her?”

“To the point, I can’t be without her.”

Abby’s body leans more into Tess’s touch the longer she wipes away her tears and rests her head on her shoulder. “Then you have to tell her, you know? I know the entire situation is a fucked up one, at best, but you’re still hurting yourself. I don’t want you to hate yourself, and I don’t want you to end up being hurt in the end. Do you understand where I’m coming from? That’s all I want for you, to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Abigail.”

“She makes me happy, Tess.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” Tess mumbles against her temple and brushes loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Talking and admitting things isn’t easy for you like it is for others. I know that, but you can’t keep holding in how you feel because you are scared to hurt the person who’s supposed to take care of you. We can see you aren’t happy with Owen, Abby, everyone can see it but you and him. If you love her and not him, you need to tell her. I’m here, I’m always here if you need that extra bit of help, but getting how you feel off your chest, to her, will do you good.”

Abby makes a sound between a groan and a huff before nodding against Tess’s shoulder slower than a snail slides. “M’trying. Everyday m’trying but it’s just so hard.”

“I’m not telling you to tell her about the day when you would throw a fit when I tried to brush your hair or would slap the scissors out my hand whenever you asked me to cut your hair; you don’t have to rush yourself, I know that people are hurting but you are also hurting, and that’s the last thing I want for you. Go at your own pace, but don’t leave it too late, Abby. People only wait for a certain amount of time.”

“What if I’ve already lost her?” Abby can’t help but insecurely ask.

“I don’t think she would still be happy to see you if you lost her, Abigail. The girl isn’t going anywhere, but she might if you don’t tell her how you really feel. I can see the way she looks at you, it’s the same way Joel looks at me, actually,” Tess laughed, slapping Abby’s head lighty when she playfully made gagging sounds. “Enough of that.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“As I was saying, she looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. If you lost her, she wouldn’t continue to look at you like that. That is all I'm saying. Given how shitty the entire situation is right now, I Can tell you that girl is not going anywhere. You just need that extra push to tell her how you really feel, okay?”

Abby lifts her head and looks at Tess, her eyes red and slightly puffy; a small smile appears on her lips before she nods again. “Okay,” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll try. Thank you.” The blonde sniffles.

“That’s what I’m here for, to make sure you stay out of shit like this,” Tess jokes while Abby simply rolls her eyes. “You’re the best thing in my life, Abby, I hate to see you so upset.”

“I thought Joel was the best thing in your life?”

“What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, you will always be my favourite person. Just think next time before something like this happens, for my sake. I’m getting older, you know.” She shoves Abby’s shoulder with hers gently and squeezes her hand. “I love you. Even if you have ruined my makeup.”

That has Abby on alert, her eyes widening as she looks at Tess to find the once perfect mascara smudged under her eyes. “Did I make you cry? M’sorry—”

“I give a shit about you, Abby. When you’re hurt, I’m hurt because you’re in pain, and sometimes I don’t know what to do to make you feel better,” She admitted softly. “If you think I can sit here and not cry when you’re telling me you hate yourself, then you are stupid. It breaks my heart to know you think so little of yourself. You’re perfect, you hear me? No matter what is happening, you’re worth so much more. You deserve so much more than what he’s giving you. If he’s the reason you think of yourself so little of yourself like this, I’ll park my foot up his ass.”

A wet laugh rips through Abby’s throat before she can stop it and Tess is just happy that Abby’s already feeling just a little better. “I would like to see that,” She giggled, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. “It’s not— I think I’ve just started hating myself over the years because it’s easier than loving myself. I don’t know, sometimes I don't think m’good enough for anyone so hating myself seemed easier, m’working on it, I promise.” 

“You’re good enough, Abigail. You’re more than enough. I don’t care if it takes me years, i’ll make you see how perfect you are. You deserve more than he’s ever given you. I just wish you would see that. She makes you happy, he doesn’t. You and her work. I only had to find you both looking at each other with that smile, and I knew. You can’t hide anything from me, ever. It’s impossible.” Tess smiled, a smile that Abby missed when she was always so serious.

“I love you,” Abby chokes out, voice slightly rough and raspy, but she gets it out. “I know I don’t tell or show you enough, but I do love you. I know that I don't say anything enough, but thank you, and not just for tonight. It has been for every night, every day, since I was younger. For never giving up on me when some days I really wished you would. Some days, you would look at me, and I just wished you would give up on me because I didn’t want to disappoint someone else I love.”

“You never disappoint me, Abby. You could never do that.”

“Not even right now?”

“You might have put yourself in a stupid place right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve disappointed me. That’s something that you could seriously never do. You just need to think about what you want and do it. No more holding back. Take that leap and go for what you want.”

“I want her. I’ve always only ever wanted her, Tess.”

“Then stop crying in my arms and go get your girl.” 

— 

Two Years Later…

Abby, now more than ever, wonders if she’s truly become this malignant villain. Even with good intentions, she still manages a way to wreak havoc in your life — only wishing to be your savior but somehow ending up your heinous villain. The rose colored glasses covering your perfect, beautiful eyes, not being able to see what’s so clearly in front of you. 

For there is a day like today, where she can’t even stand to look at herself in the mirror. It’s a truly, unsettling, aching feeling that wells in her chest before it sinks to her stomach. Silently, she tells herself, this will be the last. You deserve more than this. 

She promises to end things with Owen, her long standing boyfriend, the needle in your spin. The needle in the haystack you need to pluck and throw into another dimension. Every time you bring him up, Abby closes herself off or redirects the subject. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s talking about him when she’s with you. She tells herself it doesn’t but the guilt consumes her, not for being with you but because she’s unable to give you what you deserve. 

Abby can’t quite stop herself from dragging her feet in the mud, the impending blow of her relationship with Owen is near but still halts. A safety net may be the cause of her hollow demise, but it’ll be there to catch her. 

You question why she needs him at all. 

Late night booty calls where she’ll have to make up some lie to Owen as she seeks the refuge of the nectar she craves on her salivating lips, how the insatiable blonde won’t stop until you’re coating over lips entirely, the sweet sensation dancing on her tongue as she swallows every drop. When she’s practically dying for a taste, you never say no to her, even if you should, you're not capable of it. Even if her intentions are well placed she still takes advantage of the situation. 

Abby wonders if it’s obvious how much craves for a moment of your undivided attention. Do you know how much you replay in her mind? The moans rivaling a symphony, the one she imagines as Abby gets off to the thought of you. Thick, long fingers stuffed in her cunt as she contemplates if you do the same. It seems you must when you’re calling her tonight, moaning her name softly as you beg her to come over. Even if she was just there last night, Abby would come running like a dog digging for their favorite bone.

As long as you asked, she will always come. 

It isn’t until after when you’re so blissed and fucked out, the guilt surfaces again, practically substituting the blood supply pumping through her veins. Hazy eyes clouded with lust and love look at her, the damn look always getting her in this bed with you. To no avail, it’s a cycle she created and enabled, the two of you too weak with need to break. 

Abby feels shame when she doesn’t let the love reach her eyes, the love that reaches yours every time you look at her. She’s envious of it. How open your love expands even when she’s done nothing but tangle you up in her web of lies and deceit. 

She’s only snapped out of her thoughts when you run your fingers through her golden hair, her blocked blues, void of any tell of what she’s thinking looks at you again, really looks instead of just staring off into whatever has her so tripped up. She tries anyway. 

“Baby, come back to me.” 

The pad of your thumb caresses her scarred cheek, delicately tracing patterns into her soft skin, but you know she won’t come back. Not mentally, not until there’s distance from what the both of you did. Until it happens again and this is where the both of you land again. 

“I don’t know—” You shut her up, lips locking with her even softer ones, pink and swollen from the past few hours. 

“Stop. Please? Would you just look at me?” 

“I am…looking.” 

“Baby?” You speak softly, so delicate it makes Abby nearly whine. The name of endearment, as soon as it falls, engraves your name on another piece of her heart. Each time you’re sweeter to her than she deserves, a little part of her is given to you. Abby isn’t sure how much she has left that doesn’t belong to you. 

Every bit of it is yours to have, even if you decide you don’t want it, her heart will always belong to you. 

“Yeah?” She leans into your touch, even if it’s just for a singular second, you pick up on it. 

“Can you stay tonight?” You plead as you crane your neck to look at her from a better angle, fully coming off your high, until it’s replaced with a new one. Every second you look at her it feeds the endless addiction you have for her, the drug you need more and more every day. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” Her voice is full of rasp as she agrees to your request. Then she uses her strength to pull you back on top of her. Your face rests against hers as you find warmth in the crook of her neck, smelling the familiar oak scent laced with vanilla as she runs a gentle hand up and down your spine. Even if you’re afraid this will stop at any given moment, you cherish the moment. 

Abby starts telling you about her day, all the stupid little shit, just boring no sequential errands she was running to fill her days. It’s strangely domestic, a side she doesn’t expose often. With you or anyone. The complaints about Abby’s stone wall are said often to Mel. How she’s nearly stoic these days, staying in the confinements of her own mind, watching as the world passes her by instead of living in it. 

What neither of them neglect to know she is, but it’s done in such secrecy the omission must die on your tongue. The dirty little secret you must protect like an oath you don’t remember swearing, but with Abby it’s all the same. 

You would do anything for her. As much as it hurts in the big moments when she can’t be here with you, it heals you when she’s in your bed, caressing your back, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Promises you want to believe, a complement of how pretty you are, or how much she misses you in the time you’re subjected to spend apart. It’s when you’re strong, when you want more but know you can’t have it so it makes you upset. Enough to the point where you distance yourself but ultimately this is where it always ends up. Not just for you, but for her too. 

“M’sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” You confess, easier to say it when you don’t have to look at her. 

“It’s okay.” Abby thinks you should just leave her, cut her out of your life, leave her broken and bleeding. It should be the penance she pays for holding so much time in your life. 

“It’s not. You wouldn’t do it to me.” Abby sighs but she wraps you up in her strong arms, pulling you closer to her, if it was even possible. “I do sometimes, it’s not entirely true.” 

As you stroke her blonde hair, running your fingers through the strands you ask her something, a terrifying thought that feels you with so much dread, your hands begin to shake. 

“Abby?” It isn’t the usual way you say her name, it’s void of emotion which makes her create a slight distance so she can look at you. You’re trying so hard not to cry, choking back the tears as but they start to slip, viciously without your permission. An instant, the girl below you starts wiping them away, doing her best to soothe you. “What’s wrong?” Laced with concern as you try to avoid her overpowering gaze, because if you do, you won’t get out what you need to say. You’ll fall into her, unable to find yourself, trapped in the abyss of the woman you love. 

“Just promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

“Promise you’ll be honest with me. Promise me if you get bored with me, if this becomes too much for you or if you decide it’s him and not me, you’ll tell me. I can handle all of this but I can’t handle being lied to or being shoved in the dark.” 

It doesn’t take her more than a second to respond, “I promise. You’ll always have my honesty.” Abby locks her lips with yours, you whimper in her mouth, so loudly it’s nearly pathetic. She tastes the saltiness of your tears, the anguish funneling beneath you. Truthfully, she doesn’t blame you. Two and a half years and you’re still here. Abby knows she doesn’t deserve for you to be but you are. With the wedding coming up and her going with Owen, your place by her side is insignificant, making you wish things were different. 

Abby tries to tell you how she feels through the kiss, without saying what she actually feels, what she’s always wanted to tell you but can’t. It’s too cruel to say when Abby can’t fully give herself to you. So, she holds you until you fall asleep in her arms and only then does she cry. Truly hating herself for breaking one of the only people she’s ever truly loved, splitting you into two the longer she contemplates on what to do. She hopes you’re deep in sleep, unable to feel the tears kissing your shoulder because if anything has pushed her to the brink, it’s seeing the love of her life cry because of what she’s done. 

— 

Two week later…

Thursday. September 2024. 

Abby couldn’t stop moving, the entire ride to the airport in the shared uber with you by her side. Indifference. It was too much for her to hyperfixate on so she focused on the dreary cloud as gray as her depleted eyes, void of the natural blue tint it once held. 

The ring on your thumb, an emerald stone, a gift from Abby for your birthday being constantly tapped with the blunt of your nail. There’s a craving Abby wants to satiate, a need bubbling at the service to link your fidgeting palm with hers but she can’t. 

This entire weekend she won’t be able to. Somehow, with the help of Owen’s oblivious nature, she convinced him it’d be a good idea to take separate flights due to her insane schedule which wasn’t not true. 

Just an exaggerated truth. At least that’s what she told herself. 

The ongoing fights with Owen, the pleading from you — rightfully so. It’s tearing her in two different directions. 

“Abs—” Your gentle touch lightly caresses her exposed forearm, “We’re here.” 

She’s pulled back into reality with a touch so light and warm, Abby swears she sees stars. Even when you’re upset with her, your kindness still extends, something she’s not quite sure what to do with. If she welcomes it, she’s greedy for wanting to have her cake and eat it too. On the other hand if she dismisses you to ease her guilty conscience, it makes her into the malicious monster she never wants to be. 

Abby carries both of your bags as you make your way through the airport. The only exception? Your personal carry-on you refuse to let her hold. She wants to question the action, but she lets it slip through the cracks. 

The line to board is outrageously long. Absent-mindedly, Abby’s head falls into the crook in your neck, her chest pressed against your back. She forgets she shouldn’t feel the right to. Not when she promises so much but always tends to go back on her word. 

Yet, you say nothing. 

A part of you knows that if you say something, or try shrugging her off, it’s going to end in one of you saying the wrong thing, in a place at the wrong time, but on the other hand, you could never deny her touch, or being so close to her. She was intoxicating, maybe Abby didn’t think so, but to you, she was all you wanted, all you wanted to be around. So when her body suddenly relaxes more against yours, and your hand wraps around to keep her up, her eyes, ones that were on the brink of falling asleep, snap open, you know she’s got questions. Many of them. Many you don’t have the heart of words to reply to. So you both say nothing, again. A silent action that holds everything. Abby doesn’t need to ask what’s going on in your head, the same way you don’t need to ask what’s going on in hers. You both already know. 

By the time you make it onto the plane, Abby feels even closer. So close that you can smell the pinewood body wash she used this morning, the smell of her mint gum she keeps chewing on when you got the uber. You were so caught up in your own mind, and your crazy thoughts that you didn’t even realize or feel the hand she had on your lower back, guiding you to where you were both seated. It was natural for her to do that when it was just you two. Keeping you safe, always having an arm around you just in case anything were to happen.jk 

Her touch always made you melt, she knew it, yet she didn’t stop herself from letting go.

“Do you want the window seat, or?” Abby left the question open, it’s the most she’s said to you all morning, her eyes did most of her talking whenever she would look at you, but even though you were somewhat upset with her, hearing her voice made you relax. “Babe” the pet name rolls off her tongue so effortlessly and gently that she doesn’t realize she’s done it, it’s only when your head snaps up to look at her, with your lips parted, that she does. “Shit, that’s, m’sorry. I know you’re upset with me right now—”

But you smile, maybe you laughed a little too, but she can’t focus when you’re smiling at her like that. “Abs, s’okay. You say it a lot, it was going to happen.” you reminded her, fumbling with your ring again, a nervous habit you’re convinced only happens around her. “I know you like the window seat, even though you worry me when you completely zone out looking at the clouds” you teased, poking her in the shoulder lightly.   

“Hey, clouds are relaxing to look at.” Abby shrugged, a cheeky smile curving up on her lips. “And i know you like being closer to the snacks when they bring them out, so we both win” She’s teasing this time, and you let her. “But you forget, you always make me buy you snacks before we go anywhere”

“I don’t make you, you offer to buy me them!”

“You still take them though, don’t you?”

“That’s beside the point, Anderson, you know i love my snacks. Nothing will ever get in the way of me and them. No matter what you say.”

“Not even us?”

The question had your heart aching and you hadn’t even sat down yet! Abby doesn’t miss the way you look at her and then away from her, like you don’t even know how to respond to that. She knows it’s too soon to be asking that, yet sometimes, her mouth runs before her brain can keep up with her. Something you did like about her. “Not here, Abby, please” your words came out as a whisper, eyes silently pleading at her.

“You’re right, m’sorry, again. I seem to be fucking up a lot lately, don’t i?” She smiles, but it’s one that doesn’t reach her eyes like all the other times. Because she knows if she keeps asking, looking at you like that, acting like this is normal, it’s going to break you even more. 

“You haven’t, you’re not, it’s just a lot, we can talk about it after, okay?” 

“After.” Abby nodded, the smile finally reaching her eyes. 

Hope.

For the most part, once you had both sat in your seats, Abby by the window comfortably and you, on the outside seat, already patiently waiting for the snacks, the blonde hadn’t uttered a single question that involved the pair of you. The one not long ago still lingered in your head, in your chest and it just consumed you. You were glad that she had decided to suddenly become quiet, looking out the small window in hopes she wouldn’t accidentally spill another question that had you pulling more away from her. 

She could handle a lot. Losing you was one she couldn’t handle. 

She knew she would lose you fully if she pressed too hard on a question.

Abby couldn’t afford to let that happen. 

Apart from the chatter of parents, and screaming children a few rows in front of you, Abby didn’t move a muscle. It was funny. Sometimes if she were focused, she would grind her teeth together, you would only know that if you’ve been around her long enough. You heard it one night. It was after a small fight with Owen, that she ended up at your apartment and you could hear the way she ground her teeth together from sitting beside her, but this time, not a single peep from her. Not even a flinch when one of the children screamed at the top of their lungs. 

She didn’t even drop hints that she knew you were looking over at her. Abby was used to your stare, used to the feeling of knowing when you would have your gaze on her whenever you had the chance that is, so maybe this was just her playing hard to get, but it still came as a shock that she wasn’t even phased. One second she’s missing you and your touch, to then not even caring about it or having it the next. After all this time, she was still hard to figure out, just like she was when you met her.

you’ll figure her out, again, if you have to.

—

Friday. September 2024.

The night, one that’s supposed to be happy and cheerful, doesn’t seem to be like that for Abby. Don’t get her wrong, she’s happy, happy for those around her, happy for those having fun, happy for Joel and Tess on their engagement. I mean, why wouldn’t she be happy for them? it was Joel and Tess, the same Tess that’s been there for Abby during a few, more like multiple, rough patches in her life, listened to her when she felt like anything she did wasn’t good enough, spoke to her about you, and how shitty she feels about not giving you everything you deserve. The same Tess that’s never let her down, but as she stands here, away from everyone else who seems to be enjoying it, cradling a bottle of beer in her hand, Abby wants to run. She isn’t sure why. All she knows is that the longer she watches the people around her, watches you, she wants the ground to swallow her whole, chew her up, and spit her back out.

Abby picks lamely at the label, easily torn away by the condensation of the bottle of beer, it’s all she can do at the moment. Owen seems to be interested in the topics Mel is bringing up. Any other night, she might feel her blood boiling in her presence but she finds herself otherwise occupied. The barstool she’s nursing supports her thighs, Owen’s cologne is so strong she almost finds herself gagging on the musky oak, the one she hates. It reminds her of you, ironically enough. 

You’re the antithesis of him. Abby couldn’t find one similarity if she tried. All hours for the rest of her life could be spent on this one task, yet it would always remain unfinished. The softness of your skin, putting the finest silk to shame. She thinks of your kind heart, the patience that extends to her in ways she doesn’t feel deserving of. On more days than she has enough hands to count, you’ve dropped your entire list of responsibilities for her. When there’s been no one else, there’s always been you.

Owen doesn’t even notice how her jaw clenches, the muscles constricting against the harsh grind of her teeth, the grim frown gracing her sunkissed face, or even the way her firm hand fists the glass so hard, Abby’s just a few moments waiting for it to blow. Part of her, however small it may be, wishes for the glass to pierce her sensitive porcelain skin. Maybe then you’d actually care instead of being lost in the shining emerald’s of Ellie fucking Williams. 

Abby wishes she crushed her skull the first chance she got.

Or maybe break her fingers.

She has an endless list.

One that seems to get shorter whenever she finds you. Her only reason is you.

Abby hates the way Ellie’s hands find refuge on your lower back, the same place she loves to place her own whenever she’s close to you. She doesn't know why the way your face and smile light up at something she’s said to you, tears Abby's heart into pieces. Just the way you look into Ellie’s eyes and laugh is like an arrow just got shot through her heart. So many promises she’s made you, and the longer the seconds and minutes pass, she feels like you’re forgetting all about them. Maybe she only has herself to blame. No, she knows she is the only one to blame. 

You weren’t even hers, and she was losing you to someone who had already taken enough from her. That scares her. It scares her with how far she would go for you. Just to see you happy, safe, and smiling. There isn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do for you. 

She’s scared to be yours, but she’s terrified to not be yours. 

Your eyes found hers like a magnet, almost as if you were trying to find her, and Abby’s heart flutters at the sight when you smile at her. A smile she has devoted months upon months of trying to bring out of you with her shitty jokes and silliness. The prior worries and doubts seem to disappear into the back of her mind, disbursing like an open fire that’s slowly burning out, and she gives you a small wave. A wave that has you waving her over, wanting her to be closer, needing her to enjoy herself.

“Abby, if you don’t get over here, m’going to drag you off that stool!” You yelled over the music, your giggle sending another flutter in her chest. Did you seem to forget Ellie? Abby thought as she placed the bottle on the counter and sighed deeply through her nose. 

Fumbling with her jacket sleeve cuff links, Abby’s eyes, one’s that you love to look at, stay locked to yours as she slowly makes her way towards you, a familiar look sparkling in those blue orbs of hers, and she has the nerve to fucking smirk one she’s close enough. The blonde looks over at Ellie, that harsh resentment bubbling back up, before looking at you again with her hand out towards you. No words, just actions being thrown your way. “How gentlewomanly of you” you grinned, placing your hand in hers and a soft gasp slipped past your lips when she pulls you right into her chest. Not even a sheet of paper could fit between you both. Abby didn’t care who was around, and who was going to complain about her dancing with you?

What you both don’t notice is the way Mel suddenly stops her conversation with Owen, who was mindlessly babbling and yapping on about whatever the fuck he was talking about and cocked her head to the side when she spotted you and Abby. How one of her hands was now pressed against your lower back, the other holding onto yours. Yours seemingly comfortably on her shoulder. 

Like you were so used to doing this with her.

“What the fuck are you looking at? I was trying to tell you—” Owens words get cut short when he, still oblivious as usual, turns around when he catches Mel’s stare, one that wasn’t directed at him, and his eyes land on Abby. His girlfriend. Who was way too close to you. Dancing like you weren’t in a room full of people. Like you want people to fucking know. 

He doesn’t even seem to catch the way she looks at you. The small grin on her face that, for you, holds so much more than just an expression. To the way, her fingers flex against your back with each step you make to the sound of the music playing loudly over the speakers. Not to mention, she way she lowers her head, lips grazing the shell of your ear so softly that you almost whimper against her. “This dress, s’pretty. You’re pretty” was all she whispered, and pulled away before you had time to respond. 

Your eyes, without your want, flicker to the people crowding around one of the tablets, and your heart suddenly drops, as does your shy smile when you lock eyes with Owens. A clenched-jawed Owen that looks seconds away from bursting into flames. “Abs,” you couldn’t help but mumble, body and brain refusing to look away from him. “He looks angry”

“We are only dancing. Nothing wrong with that” She growled, not necessarily at you, but at the entire situation. She can’t touch or hold you the way she wants to. Poor girl can’t even say what she’s already thinking, to you, without making a scene. “He’s not gonna do anything.” She states firmly. “He knows this night is important to Joel and Tess, and he knows their happiness is important to me. He won’t do say or anything to you” 

“But what about to you?”

“Then let him.”

By the time the words tumble from her mouth, you’re pulling both your hands away from her when Owen is suddenly making his way towards you both. The warmth and safety you brought Abby, being ripped away from her, had her jaw locking and eye twitching. “Abby” He smiles, although you know it’s fake. 

“What?” Her reply comes out somewhat slightly harsh which has him doing a double take and looking at you with angry eyes, again. Ones you were slightly getting used to already. “We were dancing here, you’re ruining it. Did you want something?”

“Do you want to dance?”

Is he fucking serious?

Blinking away her thoughts repeatedly, Abby can’t help but turn around to face her so-called boyfriend and raise her eyebrow at his question. “You want to dance? Now? After you’ve practically ignored me the entire time, only because m’dancing with someone else?” She didn’t care if her words came out mean and cruel. She only can handle so much. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Abs—”

“Sure as fucking hell looked like you were” The blonde growled, the sound of her teeth grinding together had you looking up at her with wide eyes, and before you could comprehend what you were doing, you wrapped your hand around her arm and tugged her. 

“Abby s’okay, let’s just go get some air, okay?” You pushed gently, silently hoping and praying in your head she would take the hint you were throwing and go. “We don’t need to cause a scene at their rehearsal dinner, please”

“What? Are you her guard dog now or something?” Owen can’t stop before the question slips off the tip of his tongue, with a laugh. Not even when Abby’s looking at him like she wants to kill him with her bare hands for simply thinking of such things. “Come on, Abby, i know you like to please people but—”

“But nothing.” Abby was quick to cut him off. “You know nothing”

“Why are you suddenly being such a bitch?”

Abby, who would do anything to snap at someone if she really wanted to, stepped back from Owen and raised an eyebrow at him. “And you wonder why i don’t want to suddenly fucking dance with you. Grow the fuck up, Owen. First, you call me a dog, then you call me a bitch. If anyone’s being a bitch, it’s you because you’re mad we were dancing. Doing nothing wrong” She replied calmly, but the way her hands were twitching at her sides, told you a different story. “i need some fucking air, this room feels like it’s going to suffocate me if i’m near you any longer”

Abby’s walking away before you have time to ask if she’s even okay.

Angrily eyeing up Owen, who’s now looking down at his feet awkwardly before looking over at Mel, somewhat pleading for her to say something, you can’t help but let out a gentle scoff. “Can’t even go and check on your girlfriend to see if she’s alright? What kind of ‘boyfriend’ are you supposed to be? Do we have to pay extra for giving a shit about her?” You laughed. 

“Oh fuck off, this is your fault!” 

You exhaled a deep sigh, his words stinging you in a way that hurt, but you didn’t want to show that it affected you, so you just smiled sarcastically at him. “Go wag your tail to Mel, m’sure she would rather see you than anyone else would, dick breath”

You hadn’t seen the way both of them looked at you like a deer in headlights. 

Abby was hard to find sometimes, most of the time she would disappear so fast that it was like she just went completely invisible. Other times, she would have simply gone home and never left her apartment again, but this was different. She wasn’t at home, and she didn’t know this place like the back of her hand. So surely finding her would be slightly easier.

Luck, or whatever they call it these days, must have been on your side as you found the blonde slumped on one of the benches, jacket crumpled beside her with her head thrown back and sighing deeply. Of all places she could have hidden, she chose to hide in the most obvious place. The fucking garden? “Usually when you’re mad, you’ve already drunk 3 bottles of beer and are having some kind of psychotic break” Your voice rang out, snapping her back into reality. “Are you having a psychotic break?”

“Does it look like m’having a fucking psychotic break?” She laughed. Deep and raspy. A sound that always has your thighs clenching together no matter the place or time.

“You’re pretty good at masking your emotions, so you could be” You shrugged, a small bite in your words as you placed yourself beside her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Did you come out here just to piss me off? Because if you did, it’s working”

Your eyes found hers, and you couldn’t even stop the way your breath hitched in your throat at the lazy grin plastered on her face. “No, i came to check on you to see if you were okay, but him calling you a dog didn’t bruise your ego that much so i’ll leave if you want?”

Her hand reached out as you moved, her cold and rough ones grabbing onto your arm gently that you gasped at the action and pouted. “No. Stay, don’t leave, m’sorry” She apologized, suddenly feeling too vulnerable and scared. Too open. “M’sorry, i know you don’t have to stay, especially with how i’ve treated you. I don’t want to be here, s’all too much for me to handle. Being close to you, and not being able to do anything is driving me insane. I miss you” Abby admitted, thumb brushing across the skin of your knuckles. “I—I need you”

You don’t see the flicker of vulnerability or hurt in Abby’s eyes, you just look at her, trying to figure out her words. She didn’t expect you to chuckle. “You need me?” You repeated, shaking your head and scoffing. “If you need me, like you say, why do you push me away? Why do you never pick me? Why do you always end up picking a guy who doesn’t give a shit about you? A guy who would rather see you hurt, than happy? What does Owen have that i don’t, Abby?”

“Because m’scared ill fuck this up. Believe it or not, but you’re the only good thing i have, i can’t fuck that up. I can’t fuck you up. Do you think i don’t think about you when i’m with him? Because you’re all i think about, and it drives me nuts because i can’t do anything about it. I want you, i always want you, but i’m terrified you’ll realise i’m just not it. That i’m not enough for you. You’re the only thing i think about, but i don’t want to ruin you or what we have.” 

You create some distance, venturing off down the makeshift isle displayed in the front of the garden. Florals formed in an arch, bigger than you’d ever seen, didn’t really seem like Joel and Tess’ style, but it sure was beautiful. The pops of coral and different tones of pink rooted in a deep green. You find a moment of peace in the silence, not knowing what will be left between the two of you once the secret you’d been holding spills. 

“Abigail…” You take a deep breath trying to muster the courage, hoping it’s buried somewhere beneath you, only needing to be dug out. 

Abby finds her heart dropping when she sees you standing under the arch. She thinks it’s cruel, just a glimpse of a future she wants so desperately but she doesn’t even know where to begin. How can she earn you now? After everything she’s done…is there any redemption to be found? 

“You are ruining us. Each time you tell me you’re leaving but stay with him snuffs out everything we have.” Abby stands wanting to console you, but the look in your eyes keeps her at bay. The tears building in your beautiful eyes, and it’s not that you’re distraught, you’re clearly angry. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to cover the overflow of emotions swarming through you. 

You’re exhausted with co-existing with him, pretending everything is fine and normal. That he’s the one who makes her happy, he’s the one who knows what she wants, what she needs — that he’s the one. 

“Tell me why.” Your tone is firm, hands crossed over as shiver in the crisp air of the spring wind. “Tell me why it’s him and not me.” 

“What?” Abby bites back, her pearly whites grinding into each other as she nearly snarls. “You can’t be serious.” 

Anger starts to swirl beneath the deep pools, the one she hides so well, not even the best could decipher what she hides, all of the sweet nothings she wishes she could speak of but doesn’t. Every time she wants to lash out at Owen for not treating her right but doesn’t. The love she holds yet hides under lock and key. All of it is kept within her, only for her to know and see, but the anger slips. 

It’s evident the moment you tell her — It’s Owen not me. 

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Abby stalks you like you’re her prey, getting closer and closer to you. Your hands are unable to keep still when she’s so close to you, making her overwhelming presence known. You won’t look at her and it pisses her the fuck off to no degree. Why can’t you just see how much she needs you? “After everything. Everything we’ve shared, you’re just gonna stand there, ask me some bullshit like that?” 

You’ve never been the one to have Abby’s anger directed towards you, you’ve witnessed it on others, but never yourself. Was it normal to feel so small against someone you’ve known for years? Against someone who only has to look at you, hold you in their arms, and tell you that everything is okay?

“Then why can’t you just—”

“It’s always been you!” Abby shouts, her voice so loud that the birds, who were calmly in their nests, flutter and fly away. “So what else do you want me to fucking do?!”

That was your final nail in the coffin.

“I want you to choose me. I want you to want me the way I want you. I don’t want to be someone you only want when he’s not around. To be first. M’not fucking asking you for much, Abigail. Just to be the first in your life. That’s all.”

“You know it’s not that easy”

“It’s never fucking easy with you” You scowled, eyes fluttering and watching her abruptly turning away from you. Even if you’ve known her for years, she was cautious of who saw her like this. Or cautious whenever it came to her emotions. She didn’t want to be seen as weak. Tonight though, tonight you didn’t care what you said or did, you just wanted her to listen. Which is why you struggled to keep your mouth shut as she walked away. “Do you really think Owen gives a single fuck about you when he’s too busy shoving his tongue down Mel's throat like she’s some kind of hydration?” 

If you didn’t know Abby as well as you did, you would have cowered at the way her body halted in her steps, turned around slowly, and even from the distance between you both, you could see how tight she was clenching her jaw. “Excuse me?”

“Abby that’s not—”

“No.” She laughed, more so dryly as she shook her head. “Open that fucking mouth and repeat what you said. C’mon, remember when i tell you to use your words? Yeah, fucking use them then. Say it again” She’s in front of you again before you can blink, unsure of how she even moved that fast. “Don’t hold back now, you want my attention? You got it. Come on”

“Abby, please i didn’t mean to say that” You frowned, fumbling with the ring on your finger nervously. “M’sorry”

“You’re sorry? You’re asking me to pick between you both even though you kept this entire thing to yourself? You knew this entire time and you what? Thought if i admitted how much i want you, i wouldn’t be as hurt when you told me? Use that pretty head of yours, you’re not fucking stupid, of course, it would fucking hurt me”

“M’sorry—”

“But you’re not.” Abby laughed. “You’ve been fine keeping it from me. If you were sorry, you would have told me, no?”

“It’s not like we are perfect either. Look at what we’re doing. We’re just as bad!”

“But that never stopped you coming over late at night and begging me to fuck you, did it? Never once complained when i had you on my bed, fucked out your brain, did you? If it was so bad, you would have stayed away. If this entire thing was bad, you would have told me to fuck off, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have kept pulling me along if it was so bad. So no, you’re not sorry, you’re just sorry that you got caught and your big mouth let me know what’s happening.”

“Abby—”

“Don’t you dare start crying right now” She’s warning, looking at you angrily. If looks could kill, she would have already killed you by now. “I was going to break up with him, you know? After Joel and Tess had their wedding. I was going to do everything to make it special for us, and then— then you had to go and fucking do this” She scoffed, stepping away from you. “It’s always been you, you fucking know that, and i would have fucking broken up with him if you gave me a little more time”

You can feel your heart slowly breaking as you just watch Abby move away from you. “Abby, please, we can talk about this!” You pleaded, taking a couple of steps, trying to reach her. “We can talk about it, we can, please”

But she doesn’t stop. Not even when the sounds of your cries fill her ears. Something she would always do. Always stopping if you’re upset or hurt. She just leaves, not even looking back, with the faintest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

—

After spending several hours crying in the garden, staring at the stupid floral arch, one that you couldn’t help but picture Abby and you underneath. All the countless nights spent together, seeing a future in her eyes, now it seems hopeless. In the heat of your despair, you revealed the tight lipped secret you’d been holding, ruining everything. In her eyes you can still see it, the betrayal and hurt, but not from who she expected it from. 

You have a craving building, wondering what she’s thinking, and if she really meant what she said. Even if she says it’s always been you, saying it is one thing, actually standing behind those words is another entirely. Pathetically, you stayed there, crossing your fingers behind your back as you awaited her return but she never came. You truly, royally, fucked things up. 

It didn’t stop from the anger rolling off you as well as the anguish. You never wanted her to know that you knew about his extra curricular activities. The selfish part of you; the one that seems to win mostly, you wanted her to pick you because she loves you, not to be a second choice or just a side piece of ass. 

Barefoot and heartbroken, you wander back to the lobby of the hotel, just to find Mel and Owen together so impossibly close with each other at the bar you wonder why Owen and Abby even bother staying together. It’s so clear, to anyone else with eyes, they are just wrong. Neither of them fit the way you’re supposed to when you love someone, when you actually care about the other person, yet she wants to savor his feelings for what reason? You weren’t sure you would ever understand why Abby did the things she did. 

The only person Abby trusted is herself. Hiding behind the mask she fronts, never fully letting anyone into the feelings brewing inside her but leaving her ultimately — empty. 

Begrudgingly, you decide to take a shot of tequila, basking in your lost hope before making your way to your hotel room. 

You aren’t walking that long before you can feel the pain in the heels of your feet, the shoes you picked for tonight slowly becoming a bad idea, as you spot your room. Reaching into your bag, the strap slowly falling off your shoulder, you grumbled softly under your breath when you didn’t feel the small thin key card that you knew you had earlier and instantly slumped your forehead against the wooden door. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You mutter to yourself. 

Deep in your own head, you don’t notice Abby sluggishly yet tiredly making her way down the corridor, unaware you were mumbling and cursing to yourself as you simply grabbed and shook the door handle with so much anger that you’re surprised it didn’t break.

“Oh, fuck you, you stupid fucking door!” Your foot collided with the door, annoyance spiraling from within you, the yelling and action had you gaining the attention from none other than Abby herself. Did you want it? Yes, but did you want it when she was angry? You weren’t sure. 

“You’re not supposed to kick the door, you know?” She couldn’t help but mutter, watching you struggle with an amused smile on her lips. 

“Be grateful m’not kicking you.” 

She laughs, or you think she laughs, and hummed at your obvious struggle. Your threat not affecting her as much as you wanted it to. “Did you lose it?”

“Did i lose it?” You repeated, hand gripping the handle tighter with a clenched jaw. “Do you really think i’m the kind of person to lose a fucking key card?”

“You tell me, you can’t get into your room, it seems like you did lose it” Abby points out the most obvious thing before sighing softly under her breath. “Or you wouldn’t be stuck out here.”

Turning your head quickly at her words, you growled at her and glared in her direction. “Would it make you happy if i admit that yes, i fucking lost my key card?”

“It might.” Abby chuckled, tongue clicking against the side of her cheek in amusement again. You notice that glint in her eyes again, the same one you’ve seen countless times in those baby blues, but she doesn’t say much, not that she has to. “You can uh, stay in my room, if you want?”

Are you hearing her correctly?

“You want me to stay in your room? Didn’t you say you couldn’t stand looking at me anymore?” 

“That’s not—” She’s pausing, running her hand over her face in frustration. “I don’t— this is just hard for me, okay? Can you try to reason with me?”

“M’trying, but every time i try to, you throw it back in my face. You throw it in my face like this entire situation is my fault.” You found her stepping closer, not that you noticed seconds prior, but as you get your words out, you notice she’s listening. “I just want you to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That I just want to be yours, and it hurts that you don’t understand, or you do and would rather me not think of you like that, which just hurts even more.” You sighed, finally looking at her. “I want to love you the way you deserve, but you won’t let me” 

“S’not that i don’t want you to, i don’t deserve you.” Abby chokes out, every emotion and feeling, that she’s tried to keep buried deep, finally creeping up on her. “I’ve never deserved you, you deserve better than me. You always have”

“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” 

“I don’t want you to make the wrong one. I’m the wrong decision for you.”

Her words, ones that cut deep, have you frowning and shaking your head, like you don’t want to believe her. She’s always been hard on herself, especially when it comes to love, thinks that she doesn’t deserve it. Everyone does, and you know that she’s trying. “You are the only right decision i’ve ever made.” Your body was closer to hers, she could smell the soft perfume, almost the smell of the scented lipgloss you chose for tonight. “You are worth it, and it kills me that you don’t see it. You don’t see that under all the anger, all the feelings, everything you build up to protect yourself, you just want to feel safe. You will always be safe with me. You are perfect, i just want you to let me show you just how perfect you are. Especially to me.”

Your words struck something in her brain, thoughts going a little too fast her to keep up with, but that doesn’t stop her from wrapping her hand around your wrist, and tugging you closer to her, face quickly burying in the crook of your neck, something she does each time she’s alone with you, and the feeling of her nose brushing against the collum of your throat seconds later has you softly sighing and threading your fingers through the loose strands of hair. “Let me show you.” You whispered, gripping her jacket tightly. “Please let me show you.”

Abby lets you push her towards her bedroom door, still holding each other just as tight while her hand slipped into the soft fabric of her pocket. “Would you just let me—” Abby curses under her breath as she attempts to fish out her hotel card. You have her pushed against the door with your weight, keeping her pinned by your pelvis. 

“I should let you do whatever you want? Like you’ve been so nice to me, right?” Pulling her by the navy blue tie, swollen lips ghosting over hers, she whimpers like a bitch in heat. You give her everything, anything and everything she wants, you so graciously provided but she’s been thoughtless. Careless with how you’ve felt. It’d be so easy for her to push you off, pick you up and toss her on her shoulder before throwing you on the bed and having her way with you. 

But she likes this. 

Knowing she’s in the wrong, underneath your mercy, begging for an inch of your good graces. Abby’s practically salivating, begging to have you in her mouth, wanting to have the everlasting taste of you. Hell, she knows she shouldn’t but she thinks of you every time Owen kisses her. She wonders if he can taste your cum on her lips. After the first time, she wondered if he could clock the crimson of her cheeks, the flush she still was feeling from squirting for the first time. The thighs she could barely keep still, a proper effort made in order to keep herself up. 

You’re the first and only to even want to have the power over, she enjoys it — sure as hell gets off to it. 

“Answer me.” Your grip on her chin is iron, her blue eyes pouting as her posture slouched. 

“I haven’t been nice. I know that. I’ve been making you wait too long.” Abby shudders as your dress slips higher, as she gets lost in the exposed cleavage.

“Abby, babygirl, my eyes are up here.” Her eyes pick up to find you cold gaze, but there’s warmth. Dripping like golden honey and she wishes for it to fall on every inch of her body just so you can reclaim it as your own. She wants to feel your lips, your tongue, whatever the fuck you’ll give her, Abby craves it.  

“I know, m’sorry, it’s just—” Your hands smooth over her toned torso, the crisp button up feel smooth under your touch, but it’s thin enough for Abby to feel your magnetic touch, but you stop at her breasts. 

“He doesn’t touch you anymore, does he?” Abby shakes her head furiously. In this moment, she’s thankful she opted out of a bra tonight. Teasingly, run over the fabric, back and forth as she feels the bud pebble against your touch. Tortuously, Abby’s breath only begins to grow heavier and you’ve barely even done a thing to get her where she needs to be. 

“Fuck—” You begging to pull at the braid, undoing her long blonde locks, making them accessible for you to pull on whenever she decides to she doesn’t want to be teased any longer. “No, he doesn’t. Never like this, hasn’t touched me, made me feel like this, ever. Just you.” 

“That’s right, babygirl. You always need to come back to me. Can’t get your fill elsewhere, or be filled. He can’t do much with the poor little pathetic excuse of a cock.” You let go of her chin before whispering in her ear, “Need me so deep in this pretty pussy of yours. Even those precious long fingers of yours can’t hit as deep as me.” 

It’s then you reach in her left pocket, opening the hotel room with her key card. “C’mon, you owe me a favor, or two…..maybe even three.” You claim her lips as your own, she belongs to you whether she wants to admit it or not. 

“I think I need a reminder from last time.” 

Abby smirks, a soft smile falling over her pink lips, she leads you into the room. Her own personal siren, one word from your lips and she’ll do anything you want. Abby only has the door locked and by the time she turns around, your dress pools at your feet. 

“Shit—” Abby curses, you’re playing fucking dirty. You know she can’t be up here too long, Owen’s expectant of her to return, or so she thinks. 

“You’re killing me, angel.” 

Mouth practically salivating, at the sight of your nearly bare silhouette, the moonlight coming through the balcony accentuating every curve, your skin glowing as you wait for her to move. Abby’s contemplating, trying to decide what she wants to do first. 

She gets lost in her head, replaying tonight’s events in her head, how she couldn’t keep her cool, not even in front of her boyfriend. The thought of you with someone else too unbearable for her to bear, the incessant need she has instilled within her to be close to you. 

“That’s the point but stop suffering, babygirl.” Using her favorite thing to your advantage, you bend over the edge of the bed. Emphasizing the curve of your spin. The seconds the words fell from between your lips, you didn’t think she heard them at first, not with them being so gentle and soft. It wasn’t until you shivered, and sucked in a deep breath when her fingers ran up and down your back, nails lightly scratching your skin that you smiled into your arms. “Abs— oh” You gasped, body tensing at the feeling of her pushing her leg between your legs, pressing the rough material of her pants against your cunt, the fabric of the bedsheet rubbing against you too, adding to the mix.

“Shh,” She leaned down and whispered against your ear. “Bet you’re so fucking wet, hm?” She hummed, softness gone right out the window, still trailing her fingers up and down your back. A devious smirk appeared on her lips at the way you shamelessly tried to grind against her leg. “Can’t even wait, can you?” Her leg pushed harder on your cunt, eliciting a louder moan from between your lips. “That’s too bad, you can’t have whatever you want right now” She cooed mockingly, eyeing up the way your hands gripped the sheet below you, so tight she was worried you were going to hurt yourself. “Gonna let me eat your sweet pussy? Let me show you how much i want you?”

Just like that, you’re putty in her skilled hands. 

“Y—Yes, please, need you” You choked out, quickly nodding your head at whatever she was saying to you. You weren’t entirely sure, all you know is that you need her. Her hands, ones that you always love to have all over you, slip down and grip your hips. The action had you whimpering into the pillow, turning your head slightly to get a better look at her. The sight of her behind you, on her knees, licking her lips had yours parting. “Abby, please, want it, want you” You sighed.

“Be patient, brat” Abby scoffed, squeezing your ass in both her hands. “Don’t make me shove your panties in your mouth to get you to shut the fuck up.” There was no true intention of doing so, behind her words, she loved hearing what she did to you. Maybe a little too much. “You’ve been so bad tonight, do you deserve me to eat your pussy, hm?”

“M’sorry, i am” You sniffled, spreading your legs a little wider, tempting her in a way. Knowing she can’t get enough of you. “Please, i’ll be so good, your good girl”

“Yeah?” She hummed, mouth watering at the sight of your cunt. Folds glistened before her as she sunk her teeth into one of your asscheeks, humming at the soft gasp she pulled from you. “You’re gonna be my good girl, s’that right?” She mocked, fingers slipping between your legs, and brushing against your clit. The choked whimper you let out had her grinning against your skin, lightly rubbing circles on your bud and holding you down on the bed with her free hand. “You’re not lying?”

“No” Your words came out muffled from burying your face in the sheets, but your head shake was enough for her to understand. “M’not lying, i’ll be so good for you, i promise” You added. Fingers gripping the white sheet tighter when she’s rubbing harder circles. “Just need you to, to fuck me, please”

You’re flinching, body shaking in her hold when out of nowhere she’s spitting a glob of spit on your cunt, growling at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing at such a small action that she knows you love. “I’ll decide when i fuck you” Was all she said, using the pad of her thumb and pressing against your second hole, smiling at your soft oh. 

Her lips part, as do yours with a moan that has her stomach fluttering and cunt clenching around nothing when she lightly dips her thumb into your hole, your cunt begging for attention as a hum ripped through her throat. “Fuck, knew you would love it too much” She groaned, watching the tight muscle hug her thumb effortlessly. “Yeah, i know” Abby mocked.

“Fuck, Abby, please”

“What are you even begging for?” She scoffed, a small bite in her question, fingers finding your neglected clit and laughing at your loud whine into the pillow when she continued her slow circles. “Just a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Your needy slut” You whispered, looking down at her and shuddering at the feeling of her slowly rubbing at your clit, and sinking her thumb more into your ass. The sensation had moans and whimpers tearing from your throat. You pushed back against her, absentmindedly that is, and gasped loudly when her hand landed a light slap on your pussy. 

“Stop moving.” She warned with a growl. “You’re gonna take what i give you, and if i think you deserve more, you’ll get it” Abby scoffed, smirking at the sight of you burying your face more into the pillows, the messy sheet as you nodded quickly, without shame, and licked your swollen lips. “This is what you needed, hm? Getting your holes stuffed so you would shut the fuck up” 

Her words, mean ones at that, that you were used to hearing, has your face heating up, not a single ounce of shame in your body, just pride and need. Whenever Abby would get mean, yes, you were mortified the first time it happened during sex and how wet you had become, but now? she uses it to her advantage. As much as she would like. She had your body under control, and she didn’t even have to do anything to reduce you to such a whimpering, pathetic mess under her. 

The swipe of her thumb, a gentle touch, against your clit had you letting out a squeal, jolting on the bed and your eyes slowly started rolling in the back of your head. It was sinful, so sinful at how she was able to do this. Touch you with the lightest touches and have you pleading for more. Abby’s lips parted, almost salivating at the sight of you clenching around her thumb, a silent plea as to say more. Which is why she doesn’t expect the whimper that claws at your skin and rips out of your throat when she’s pulling away completely. The feeling of being almost full, not as much as you wanted, to be taken from you. 

“Abs? What—”

“You get both holes filled when you’re good,” Abby tutted, fake cooing at your pleads, one she’s so used to hearing coming from you. “Gonna start crying because m’not giving you what you want? Yeah? Gonna start saying you’ve been good enough? We both know that’s a lie, baby”

Are you crying? You weren’t sure, nor did you care, but with how Abby was dancing her fingers dangerously close to where you need her, you might burst into flames if she didn’t hurry up. “You like it when i cry for you” Comes one of your usual quipped replies. The undertone of brattiness doesn’t go unnoticed by Abby.

But what you miss is the way she clenches her jaw, her eyes harden, and how she’s quick to land a strike on your ass. Your body only gets so far up the bed with a whine before she’s leaning hers over you, hands pinning your hips to the bed and she grazes the shell of your ear with her lips. The harshness of her breath hitting your face had you trying to push back against her. Trying to get something. “Such a dirty fuckin slut” Abby scoffed, sinking her nails into your skin and sure to be bruised in the morning. “You like making it harder for yourself? You want me to punish you?”

“You know all your punishments just make me wetter for you,” Your voice wavers, breathing slightly more ragged as her body presses down harder on you. “Makes me want you to fuck me harder. Want you to fuck me like you’ve missed me.”

“Oh,” Her laugh is one of mocking. You were so used to it that it didn’t make you snappy at her anymore, but it still sent a shiver down your spine when it was directed at you, and you alone. “I do miss you, but m’not gonna just let you get away with being a fucking brat to me tonight because i miss you.”

“But why? Don’t you wanna fuck me, Abby?” You feigned innocence, turning your head enough for her to see the small pout on your lips that you were sporting. “Because i want you to fuck me, fill me up like i know you can. Make me cum in ways only you know how. You fuck me so good, Abby, please, please. I know you wanna fuck into this mattress, Baby”

Abby whimpers. 

Sounds that are only reserved for your ears, and yours alone.

You’ll make sure of it. 

She whimpers pathetically above you at your words, the blood rushes to her head and she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs the longer you try pushing yourself up against her, grinding against her shamelessly. “Wanna fuck every single thought outta your pretty head so bad” She growls into your neck, everything inside her crumbling as you both just sluttily grind against each other. 

“Then stop talking about it and fucking do it.” You spit. A noise so animalistic, you’re not sure you have ever heard it fall from her lips. With an entirely new level of greed, she claims your lips as her own, velvet tongue dominating yours as you can feel yourself practically melting. “God, can’t wait for you to shut the fuck up.” Abby mumbles against your lips. Her fingers undo the knot in her tie, releasing it from her collar as she holds both of your wrists with one, feeling the cool metal frame piercing your skin. 

“Is this what you want?” Abby begins to bind your wrists to the bed, her thumb smoothing over skin gently as she tightens the silk fabric against you. “You should be grateful I’m not blind folding you. We both know you deserve it after tonight.” You laugh, manically. Watching the pleasure in her blues rise, she likes you under her will as she takes what she wants. 

“Should I be grateful? You’re not fucking me yet…are you?” You tilt your head to the side as Abby removes herself completely, the friction of her trousers evades your cunt, leaving you nothing to grind against. With a smirk as wide as you’ve ever seen, she slowly removes her belt, slipping off her shoes as she throws the black belt on the floor. 

“You just don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you? I have something that will.” Her voice lowers an octave as she spills the threat from her pink lips, slowly removing each article of clothing. Her button up shirt is first, leaving her topless in front of you, chiseled abdomen defined as she flexes her abs further. “Would you hurry up, Anderson?” 

The more your hips buck into thin air, the wider her smirk gets. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, boss.” Abby salutes you, having to disguise the laughing bubbling from her lips. The look you give her is deadly, trying to pull at the tie but to no avail you're stuck, under the mercy of whatever Abigail Anderson wants. The terror in your eyes furthers the slickness in Abby’s boxers but she needs to focus. You are right where she wants you, with no intention of letting you have any satisfaction at the moment. 

Maybe later if Anderson is feeling kind. 

She slowly slides her trousers off, leaving her in just her boxers, your eyes focused on her glorious, blonde happy trail falling in the fabric. Concealed and out of your grip. “You must be really frustrated if you’re saying Anderson, huh? Mhm, that’s too bad. You could have been sitting on my face by now, angel.” She tsks, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth as she does so. 

“M’fine. Not frustrated at all, Anderson.” 

“No?” Abby simply nods, putting the weight of her knee on the bed, her face tucked in the crook of your neck as she whispers in your ear, “Why don’t we put that to the test?” She bites on your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly. The only inkling of your sweet abby, the abby you love, but she leaves just as quickly as she came. 

Without warning, she slaps your cunt, hard. 

The sensation has you wanting to reach for her, pulling at the tie again, but you’re rendered useless. Your body quivers, her finger runs up your pussy, thumbing your clit so lightly it should be considered an unforgivable sin. Once you think she’ll move on, torture you in some other way, Abby decides to have fun and slap your clit this time, gasping the name you only call her in the bedroom. A name just reserved for the two of you. 

“Already, babygirl? That’s not very…boss of you.” Abby licks the side of your neck, letting her teeth sink in delicately, you groan in response to her teasing words. “Would you stop calling me that, oh my fucking g—” 

You feel two of her thick fingers protrude your dripping hole, sliding in with ease, “Stop calling you what? God? Never gonna let you forget I’m the only one who fucks like one.” She’s slow about it, wanting you to get just enough where it feels good, but not nearly enough to where you crave to be. Pitiful whines are all the evidence she needs, a token of your temporary agony is enough to satisfy her until you break. 

“You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” 

“Just an asshole who knows how to fuck your ass.” Abby can’t stop teasing you, not when you’re bucking up your hips into her fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat for more. The both of you know there’s no getting out of this unless you tell her what she wants. 

“Abby, please.” You beg, the confession comes too soon, but Abby grins wide as she pulls her face out of her neck. “Thought my name was Anderson, boss?” Unpleasantly, you roll your eyes but she still looks very pleased with herself. 

“Say my fucking name. You know what I want.” With her fingers nearly knuckle deep, she pushes further, kissing your g-spot. “So pretty baby, sounds so pretty. Stop being a stupid, stubborn slut, yeah? You’re already so wet for me. Don’t you hear yourself?” She fucks you harder as you grind against her fingers, meticulously adding in a third finger. 

“Listen to your soaking cunt. You can be a brat, tell me how much you don’t need, but she’s always gonna sell you out, huh? Do you hear the sweet sound of your pussy, babygirl?” You nod helplessly, nearly fully succumbing into the ruthless thrust of her skilled fingers. “Then tell me, what’s my name?” 

Finally, you decide to cave in. 

“Daddy, please—” With those words, Abby releases her fingers from your pussy, causing you to whimper in distress. “Abby! What the fuck!” 

“What? You think I would let you have it after you’ve been a brat. I know you’re easily drunk on me, very easily, but I’m not feeling so generous right now.” Abby slips off the bed once again, her boxers coming off her body, allowing you to see her fully as she slips off her socks. “Time to show you who is the boss, baby.” 

For the third time, you pull at the tie. Once again. you’re stuck. 

“What are you talking about?” The confusion laced all over your face, watching as you climbed on the bed, finally naked and exposed, just the sight you’ve been wishing to see all night. 

“Show me why I let you fuck me and not Owen.” Abby perches her ass on your face, claiming the seat she’s always owned since the moment the two of you met. Abby really doesn’t give you much time to even take a moment to check out the ass you love so much before she’s suffocating you with her pussy. Fuck her for bringing Owen, even if he ever wanted to eat her out, he didn’t have the skill for it. 

She knows that, you know it too, but it leaves you eager to prove just how much she likes it when she’s riding your face. Not his, yours. She’s careful enough not to completely crush you, her hand smoothing over your stomach, blunt nails clawing at your skin as you act starved of her. You had been wanting her all night, but this would be enough, even if you remained untouched, knowing you made her cum would be enough until Abby wants to play nice. 

The blonde stays quiet for a bit, even when she’s enjoying it, your tongue rolling on her cunt, she begins to find a rhythm, moving her hips in a pace she likes, taking as she pleases. But you know just how to surprise, even if she’s neutralized your hands, you know what your girl likes. 

Tilting your head back just a little, giving you enough distance to spit on her cunt, her pink folds glistening more, her body shudders as a moan escapes. A curse of your name spoken before Abby can stop herself. 

“Shut up—” Abby starts to murmur off but you spit again, causing her entire body to shudder against your body, but you don’t hold back. Being extra obnoxious for her as you make your ministrations loud, moaning into her soaked cunt, letting your tongue circle around her clit as you suck the bundle of nerves in your mouth. 

“God, feels s’good, can’t stop fucking your pretty face.” Abby almost fully seats herself, your attacks on her clit have her seeing stars. The soft build in her stomach is more than she can handle, she’ll cum soon if she’s not careful. 

So, she decides to level the playing field. 

She bends over completely, burying her face in your soaking cunt. She decides to be torturous, blowing on your lower lips, enjoying the way you shudder. Hips continue to buck into her face immediately, desperate to be eaten. She giggles. Even if you are making her feel like she might explode at any given moment, Abby knows you are so much worse. She knows your swollen clit must be pulsating, aching for an ounce of attention, a swipe of her tongue, a light brush of her fingers — something. 

“Mhm, such a pretty pussy, baby.” Abby kissing your inner thighs, getting so close to where you need her to be, but not quite to where you want her. “How bad do you want me to fuck your cunt?” She grins as you whimper, but you know better than to stop eating her out. 

“Good girl.” Abby praises you as she runs a finger up your slit, feeling just how wet you are, thighs softly twitching as she sinks a finger into your hole, finding satisfaction in how tightly you’re clenching around her. Thumb swiping at your clit, “See what happens when you’re good.” 

Abby wastes no time, not a single moment, her mouth pouncing on you with no further warning. A shriek rips out from the back of your throat, the vibration against her pussy sends a shiver down her spine. She’s slow with the movement of her tongue, sliding it between your folds, flicking it against your clit until she’s wrapping her lips around the bud, and sucking hard. 

The whines and whimpers she’s always so greedy to hear tumbling from between your lips is muffled by her cunt, almost banished from making it’s way into the room as she curls her fingers just enough to have your lips sucking on Abby’s clit harder. A certain kitten lick of your tongue on her clit has her head falling forward against the pillow with a guttural moan. The sound has you clenching tightly around the long thick fingers she’s slowly working deeper in your pussy.

“Knew your mouth was fucking slutty,” Abby shivered, hips jerking up and trying to grind harder against your mouth. A mouth that she would die without. “S’good, keep it up, you can do that, can’t you?” She mocked, knowing you have no room to say anything. Not when you were eating her out like she would be your last meal. 

“It’s a shame isn’t it? That you can’t even use your fingers this time. Know how much you like to make me cum on them, maybe next time, hm?” Abby taunted, using the tip of her tongue, sliding it up and down your inner thighs, collecting your slick in her wake. The taste of you on the muscle had her eyes rolling in the back of her head, pressing her thumb against your clit and rubbing the slowest yet dangerous circles. Enjoying the way you tremble above her. “Awh, so close already? Barely fucking touched you.” 

Her words have you whining into her cunt, humming around her clit and the blood rushes to her head at the obscene, loud sounds of you lapping at her pussy messily. Her slick runs down your chin, a sight she’s seen hundreds of times before when you’re between her legs, and drops down onto her legs and bedsheet. “Don’t have to see you to know you’re messy” She growled from below you, curling her fingers against that spot deep inside you perfectly, grinning lazily when your legs clench around her head. “Yeah, I know you love it, angel.” You can already picture her fucking smirk without having to look at her. Abby was cocky, and she sure as hell knew how to make you a trembling mess at all her touches. No matter if you were tied up or not.

Sucking softly at her clit, you hummed deliciously when her thighs twitched, hips still grinding up against your mouth, fucking herself shamelessly on your tongue. “That’s a good girl, wanna make me cum so bad, don’t you?” Another mock fell from between her lips. “I feel bad i tied you up, would love your fingers deep in my pussy right now” She sighed, fucking her fingers in and out of your pussy at a pace that isn’t enough to make you cum, like you wanted, but enough to have you whining and on the edge of something she was willing to give you if you behaved. 

It’s when her fingers deliciously slide in your cunt, rubbing at the certain spot that has your body going limp within seconds, that she’s spent hours brutally hitting with her cock, that you’re crying out around her clit, the sound still slightly muffled but you somewhat find movement and ground down against her fingers. “So fucking needy.” The blonde murmured, wrapping one of her arms around your hips and keeping you still above her as the pace of her fingers picked up again. “You want my fingers that bad? Fine, I'll give you them.”

You barely have time to understand what she means, because she crooks her fingers in a way that has you pulling away from her cunt, the growl she lets out makes your legs crush your head entirely, yours resting on her ass, unable to focus on anything but her fingers stuffing you full. 

“Do you feel it, baby?” Abby doubles down on her efforts, thumb swiping at your clit, fingers so deep as she fucks against your grinding hips. “Just like that. Is my pretty girl close? Gonna show me what a good girl you are and cum for daddy?” 

“Please, shit shit shit, Abby—” The curses continue to tumble from your lips, one after the other they fall, a lovely melody falling on Abby’s ear as it supplies her with the last effort she needs. The desperate cry from her lover’s mouth, the brat disappearing for the time being, all that’s left is the woman she loves so intensely crying for relief. The only thing she wishes is to see you. Bright eyed, struggling to keep them open or your canines sinking into your lips so harshly you pull at your chapped lip, drawing blood as you attempt to hold yourself together. Most of all she wonders if she has you so close to the edge, so incredibly close the tears are beginning to well up in your eyes. 

But she doesn’t get to see any of it, so she’ll have to settle for the weeping sight of your cunt rather than your eyes. Abby’s not sure which one she loves more at the moment. 

“C’mon, want you to paint my face in your cum. Can you do that? I know you haven’t wanted to obey tonight, but can you do this one thing for me?” You feel one of her fingers tease your puckered hole, using the slick coating her finger to tease the sensitive hole while she fucks the other. “Been begging for it, yeah? So, give it to me.” You feel her fingers teasing your cervix as you finally give in. 

Every bone in your body submits to her, as it always does, you become hers as she claims in a way anyone else fails to do. It’s just the two of you, even if you’re unable to see her blissed out dilated blues, drunk on your cunt. The way she soothes you with her fingers, gently fucking you through your high, giving you just the right amount. 

Then it’s there. 

The slight gush squirting out of you and onto her face. Abby smiles wickedly and she immediately laps at your pussy. Obnoxiously and loudly, she makes a theatrical performance of it, making sure you can hear every suck she makes as she creates a makeshift funnel into her mouth, not being able to control herself. Sweetly, she doesn’t allow a single drop go to waste. 

“Feel s’good Abby, I can’t—” Your body softens as you ride the end of your high. Abby can feel your breath on her cunt, sending a shiver up her spine. 

“Shh, I know, I got you.” Abby sweetly remarks, her tongue moving gently and sweetly as she’s unable to stop herself from pushing you through, her fingers fucking you until you’re spent.

Slowly, yet tiredly, once Abby’s had her fun, you press more of your weight on her, head resting comfortably on her toned thighs as you try to catch your breath. With the help of Abby rubbing your back slowly, you smiled into her skin and sighed. 

Exhausted of not being able to touch her, you free yourself from the tie minutes later, ripping it into two, but she pins with the strength of her arms. Quick to hold you down, even when you want to move, Abby does it faster than you can comprehend. She licks the remainder of your cum with her tongue, savoring every last bit, enjoying the shake of your thighs. Abby slaps your cunt, you moan out her name, still sensitive from the earth-shattering orgasm you’d been given. 

Abby is sporting a grin so sinister, you believe it nearly rivals a succubus closing in on it’s prey. Shifting her position, her pelvis against yours, her blond bush prickling your pussy, but she’s too strong for you to move underneath her muscular frame — leaving no room for debate. Sparkling, golden waves falling over her shoulder, freckles littered across her body as if they were her own galaxy being created, a universe unique to her. Every inch of her is more exquisite than the next, you don’t understand anyone who doesn’t appreciate her as the beautiful, loving, angel she is. She should never be treated as anything but. You want to give her the world, everything good in the world she deserves, and you hope it’s not too late for her to see it just as you do. 

Doesn’t hurt she fucks like her life depends on it. 

“You gonna be good for me and fucking take it?” Abby shifts your legs so it lays over her shoulder, lazily spitting on your pussy, enjoying the soft sigh escaping your body. It’s evil, maniacal even, torturing you like this but you can’t help but buck your hips. Trying to chase the high, she’d just given you. 

“So eager. Even after I made you come all over my face. Greedy baby.” Abby slaps your cunt once again, she takes pleasure in the way your body twitches, convulsing for more. The way you’re moving your hips, needing her to give you what she knows you’ve needed. Too stubborn, too selfish, and too fucking horny to stay away from the chiseled greek goddess. 

“Do you wanna feel my clit on yours baby? Is this what you want?” Abby moves her hips forward as she hikes your leg further on her toned shoulder. “You wanna feel how wet I am for you? Mhm, s’what you’ve been needing, just me and my cunt on yours. It’s all a filthy whore needs. Isn’t that right?” 

“Abby, baby, yes. That. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

“That’s right, I’m fucking perfect.” Abby gives you one thrust, enjoying the soft bounce of your tits, head half-craned and slumped against the headboard as you’re rendered helpless under her strong weight. The euphoric bliss you’re offered when she decides to be generous and over a steady pace. 

Small, pierced nipples harden as she continues her ministrations, she feels every nerve ending of her body on fire. Even if she enjoys you teasing with her, acting like you’re in control, calling the shots, this is where you belong. A needy whore begging for more of her. This time it’s her cunt you need, her dripping and weeping pussy connecting with your own. You need to feel how wet she is, both of your clits rubbing against each other. The bundle of nerves colliding together over, and over, and over. Abby’s slick mixed with your own, so much you can feel is dripping near your puckered hole, unexplored territory you know you’d let her explore. 

Abby see’s the red markings on your stomach, her being the maker of the scratches, too blissed out to control herself. She traces them with a delicate hand, a silent apology for being too rough with you. Something physical, tangent even, on how you make her feel. If she’s being honest with herself, you’re the only one who makes her feel anything. It’s why she comes back to you, even when the little angel on her shoulder tells her she shouldn't, that it’s wrong. When the guilt threatens to eat her alive, she sees your smile, hears your laugh that would put a symphony to shame. Better yet, she still has the privilege to make you feel good. To try and do everything in her power to make you feel as great as you make her feel. 

But you don’t know any of it. 

This. You. Her. All of it may be fleeting. She might not choose you. This might be a short fling before she ties the knot with this stupid man she claims she’ll leave. You can’t put your money on it, but you’ll bet on her thinking about you for the rest of her life if she wishes to stay with a man. One that will never deserve her. 

Owen will never know Abby the way you do and you’ll do anything you can to make her see it. 

“You are. Everything about you is perfect. Those beautiful blues I wanna get lost in for hours. The lips I never want to leave me. The hands I want on me all the time, the ones I think about whenever I’m alone and I don’t have you there to fuck me.” You spill out, causing Abby to become over eager to please, her hips thrusting harder against yours, chasing the feeling she feels building within her. 

She whimpers, again. 

You’ve lost count on how many have left her tonight. It’s the hope you’re clinging onto. The vulnerability she never lets leak but tonight she does. Never has she been so vocal about what she wants, but after tonight’s fight, the threat of you leaving, Abby’s desperate to keep you. Even if wants to pretend like she’s in control, the look on those worrisome pools of blue tells you something different. 

“Feesl, s’good, shit.” Abby’s blissed out face, head thrown back as she sinks into the feeling. With a clenched jaw, she grinds down into your pussy, her swollen clit pulsating, feeling your cum gravitate towards her cunt. As if this is what it was meant for, you, her — destined to find another. 

Again. Again. Again. 

Her pale skin becomes flush, rises of pink and red expands on her toned chest, her abs clenching causing each ridged lined more defined as she fucks you into another dimension. She coaxes you into her warm, slippery pussy like it’s a lion’s den. The cage is meant to keep you in, designed to never be released from the sharp canines breaking into your skin, the claws she’s managed to dig in, the strength she exhibits each time she stalks you like her prey. 

The false pretenses, the way she fluffs you with small affections, begging to be petted and played with but then tears at the skin she helped heal. Even if it leaves you bloody, clenching your chest to find one final breath, the appetite for her never ceases to exist. When she draws the last drop of blood from your veins, you’ll thank her with a gleeful smile. 

Deeply, you want Abby to feel this lush high, this euphoric feeling rushing to her head, making her impossibly drunk on you as she cries out for more, you want her to feel every bit of it knowing he’ll never give this to her. He’s a fool in the eyes of goddesses alike, a simple servant to keep her in a mediocre rise of security. A placeholder, a pathetic one at that. Too incredibly vain to swallow a meaningless ego to offer what she really needs but you’ll do it gleefully in a blink of an eye. 

He could never give her what she deserves. 

The divine feminine found between your thighs, the sweet nectar she’s spent hours lapping at into all hours of the night, leaving before the sun rises. The walk of shame back to her apartment, glimpses of you never leaving her as she goes about her day. 

This will be just another image burned in her brain, you underneath her body, taking everything she’s giving but it’s so much more intimate than either of you even planned for. The altercation from earlier in the night fizzled out the moment her lips met yours. 

Abby’s palm grips onto the headboard, gaining leverage as she fucks you. “Open your fucking mouth, such a big one, huh? Definitely showed me how much tonight, so, do it again.” Using her strong grip, she squeezes your chin, applying pressure as you obey her willfully. Your lips forming at her wish, she continues to get off, the euphoric sounds of your cunt echoing through the room as you give her everything she wants. 

The her spit drips onto your mouth, pupils dilated as she watches you accept it with a sparkle gleaming in your eyes. Bright and beautiful as you thrust your hips against, enjoying yourself even more with her spit in your mouth. Obnoxiously, you swallow loudly, moaning as you do. 

“Can you spit on my pussy? Please? I know m’already soaked, but I need it.” You request sweetly, knowing she’s less likely to reject you if you’re sweet about it. Instead, she places her hand on your throat, decorating it beautifully with her rough grip. 

Just like that, the woman who loves you, attends to your every need, evaporates into thin air and the one who aims to take control over your very essence is back. The one who likes to push you over the edge until she feels like you’re satisfied enough is back. 

Abby isn’t going to stop until you’ve soaked every inch of her mattress. The one she slept in last night, Owen by her side, but now she believes it needs a level of christening. 

Extending her long fingers, she pulls at your bottom lip with her thumb applying more pressure at your neck. “Do you think you’re really in a position to ask for anything? Be grateful that you even get to feel my pretty pussy, yeah? Shouldn’t even be fucking my pretty girl after the shit you pulled today.” 

“M’sorry, okay? Fuck, please, please— can you forgive me? I just wanted to…” Then before you can even take a moment to breathe, she’s giving you something to choke on. Long, thick, fingers crawling their way down your throat, tickling the back of it, you feel the coolness of her rings lay left on your lips. 

“There.” Abby sighs in content while she grins with greed. “Needed something to shut you up, angel. Don’t cry though, it’ll be my cock next time for your second punishment.” You try to speak but it just comes out as murmurs, incoherent mumbles as Abby fucks your harder than she has all night. She continues to grip the headboard, each thrust more powerful than the last. 

“This what you fucking need. Someone to fuck the brat out of you, so, shut the fuck up and take it.” Abby commands as she moans when she sees your eyes roll back in heightened bliss, “Forgetting how I just made you feel already? I know, brats have a hard time remembering. Daddy needs to make you cum again, huh?” 

“Abs, m’so sensitive. I don’t think I can.” You confess, but Abby continued to fuck you harder, the power of her thrusts unrelenting. With each thrust, her folds sliding against your own as you take what she gives. “No? Should have thought about that before you decided to mouth off to me, again.” 

She shifts your leg over to her other hip, bending you like her own makeshift pretzel, maneuvering you to her will as she fucks you from a better angle. Abby cockily grins as your mouth forms a soft o shape, your breath hiccups as you moan even louder. Your hands grip on her waist as she rides you. All you can do is look upon her in awe, she’s a goddess like this. She always is but not even Owen could see her like you do. He would never be capable of appreciating her just the way she comes. 

Muscles like an adonis, perfectly carved, the veins in her arms protrude as she grabs the headboard. Everything about her seems hard, rough, defined but has the sensual hips of the most entrancing woman alive. The way she rolls them with purpose, a dance she’s choosing to partake in, one that she loves very much. Unable to stop even if she tried. 

Yet it’s her big and bright blues which give her away. For the first time, you see her clearly. Beautiful, bright, and in love. She’s never looked at you the way she is now. Maybe she always did but this time she’s letting you see the love laced underneath. Not ashamed of the softness of her emotions, the one she’s always held like a burden, she carries it strongly. 

You want to let her pull the words from your mouth, but she pulls at the bud between your thighs, claiming it as hers, waiting for you to give in to her. Abby’s just as strong as she is stubborn. Even if she’s already made you cum, she won’t let herself go until she gets it from you one more time. 

“Pretty, pretty, girl. Just one more time, m’kay? Need to see those gorgeous eyes roll back,” Freeing one of her hands, she picks up the ripped tie as she trickles the soft material down your abdomen, “God, i need to see it. My beautiful angel, always so gorgeous and mine.” 

The silk feels good against your skin but you need her. You pull on her hair, bringing her close to you as Abby buries her head in the crook of your neck. For the first time tonight, she allows herself to whimper in your ear. Submitting herself to you in a way she’s never done with anyone. Abby loses it when you stroke her hair gently. 

As much as she’s hellbent on making you come first, you have another objective on your mind. 

“And you’re mine. Only mine.” Abby whimpers, her hips slowing down as you buck up into hers, leading the pace as she gives into you. “C’mon, my sweet girl, let it all go. I have you, m’never letting go, promise.” 

With a notion of protection and sealed love, Abby lets go. Every bit of her slumps against you as she finds her release, you follow after her as you slowly grind into her, letting her coast through the high as she nearly growls in your ear, chants of your name leaving like a prayer. A sworn faithfulness to the only person she’s truly loved, cradling her as if she’s done no harm. As if she’s just as good and pure as you believe she is. 

With her forehead pressed against yours, her blue eyes void of any cockiness, she squeezes them shut as she regains to catch her breath. Lazily, pulling a sheet over you both as it rests on her waist, protecting you with her warmth. Abby wonders if your heart beats as rapidly as hers, fingers tangled in her golden waves as you gently bring swollen pink lips to you. Basking in the way she molds perfectly to you as if this moment, you and her, meant to be fated. 

One of her rough hands runs up and down your back, as the other grips your chin between her fingers, pulling you more into her as you share yet another soft and slow kiss. A kiss that has you smiling into her mouth as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, teeth nipping at skin. “Needy,” You can’t help but giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as Abby simply just shrugged and grinned up at you. 

“Can you blame me? You’re addicting.” She stated like it was the most obvious thing you’ve ever heard. “Your lips are so soft, so that’s another reason why i like kissing you”

“That's the only reason? My lips are soft?” You cocked your head to the side, fingers tracing the slope of her nose slowly, amused at the way she crunches it up cutely when you cup her face. “You have pretty lips, a pretty nose, a pretty everything” You listed, leaning down to place a kiss between her furrowed eyebrows. “You have a pretty heart that is made of gold”

“I wouldn’t say that much about my heart. It’s caused a lot of pain lately.” Abby mutters sadly, fingers wrapping around your wrist and placing your hand on her cheek. “M’sorry for how I've treated you. Especially during this trip, a trip that was supposed to be so special and i kept fucking it up.”

“You’re here with me now, that’s all that matters, Abs. We matter, you matter.” Your voice was quiet, but with the close distance you shared with her, she heard it loud and clear. Your heart thumping loudly in your chest when she leans more into the palm of your hand, closes her and hums gently. “You are so beautiful, I didn't think I could be this in love with someone, not like I am with you. You mean everything to me, and I want to show you just how much.” 

Your confession has her eyes snapping open again, baby blues peering into yours so vulnerable, that you were worried she was about to get up and flee again. It always happened when you got too much into your feelings and feelings towards Abby. But she didn’t, instead, a shy smile appeared on her lips and a crimson blush coated the apples of her cheeks, her skin hot under your touch. “You don’t have to say anything—”

“I love you with all my heart.” 

The confession is ruined by the sound of the door slamming against the wall, and it startles you both. Abby’s moving to cover your body, protecting your vulnerability and being so exposed before her own. Her eyes quickly widen at the sight of Owen standing there. His chest is rising up and down, panting like he’s just ran a marathon. He’s looking between you both, at you longer than he is at Abby, but he’s looking. 

For a few seconds he doesn’t do anything, he just stands there with no idea what to do or say. Luckily Abby feels the same, and she just glares at him down with a subtle growl that has you biting down on your lip. Your eyes quickly look back over at Owen with a grin. “Can you shut the door on the way out? You’re ruining everything right now, i would like to fuck the woman of my dreams, again, and you are stopping me from doing that” You can’t help but huff. “You didn’t treat her like the Queen she is, but don’t worry, i will.”

Abby doesn’t know whether to laugh or choke on the spit forming in her mouth the second the words fly out of yours. 

Any other time, Owen would have caused a scene, woke everyone up with how loud he shouts, but this time he doesn��t. He knows it’s his fault, him to be blamed for Abby needing someone else. He barely gave her the time of day, and pushed her away for someone who wasn’t his girlfriend. Apart of him knew this day would come, she would leave him for you, he just didn’t think it would happen like this. So with one final look, he’s turning on his heels, bolting out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Not wasting a single second to get out of there. 

Leaving you both there, giggling.

Shaking her head at you, Abby cups her face between your hands not even seconds later, repeatedly placing kisses on your lips and melts at the sound as you both fall back onto the bed, in each others space, like you’ve always meant to be with hushed whispers, and promises into each others mouth. 

“It’s always been you. I love you, always and forever.”

It’s safe to say, Owen won’t ever be tasting you again.

taglist: @hypnagogics @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @liizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf @callmewhenyoukan @princesssmars @girlg3n1us @co0kiemuncher @kl1q @graviewaviee @antonellavanella @chuutzuyu @mystellenia @mabels-trashcan @i-feel-violated

[glotoru]

ooh baby, ooh baby, i’m in love | eren jaeger.

the note 𐦍 i’ve recently been thinking about a successful, older (early to mid thirties), soft spoken eren who lives to spoil the woman of his dreams—so i’m gonna share this with y’all too. i’m actually just projecting our relationship. not proud of the ending but wtv. part two here. inspired by west coast, lana del rey.

contains 𐦍 nsfw, fem!reader, stupidly rich!eren, established relationship, vaginal sex, mating press, cervix kisses, use of pet names (princess, baby, my wife, the usual yk), unprotected sex, breeding, squirting, softie eren, mild body worship, size kink, hand on stomach while fucking mhm, i love you’s exchanged, praise kink, eren talks to your pussy while he’s in it, i’m thinking black reader but it’s all subjective babes: if you like it, read it!!

truth be told, eren jaeger doesn’t believe he has much to live for.

he’s kept his circle small for all of these ongoing years; with the occasional extension of acquaintances from work dinners, or christmas parties—though, he preferred to slip away from such events when eyes weren’t so…watchful. he likes to think his social battery has drained over the course of his life. looking back at his angstful teenage years, fourteen year old most likely wouldn’t recognize the person he is today.

his once intense nature that resembled an overbearing presence of loud determination turned calm—steadfast and slow to visible anger (with the exception of a passive aggressive comment here and there from simple annoyance). the short hair that once barely covered his nape now fell to his broad shoulders, however, he preferred to keep it up—maintaining appearances while keeping it convenient. the smaller five foot six body grew to an intimidating lean six foot four instead.

however, those things were quite trivial; he knew such changes happened with growth and eventual maturity.

but for a significant chunk of his life, eren was never the greatest with women. he was oblivious—blind to the wandering eyes full of admiration from girls in his classes and workplace—and nose deep in his books. he wouldn’t rest until he was on top of his grades; which he had no problem with. His emphasis on success failed him when it came to the dating scene; to say the least he was shy—and married to his work as well.

but on top of all this, eren was a patient man, and good things always comes to those who wait.

and when a dangerously beautiful woman comes wandering into his life on the street outside of an office dinner he gracefully slipped away from, asking him for an extra five dollars to help pay for her cab home from a no-show date—a woman that has him battling the slew of warning alarms sounding away in his usually zen mind and redefining what he thought was himself—he knows that he’s waited long enough.

simply put, he’s a man of his craft; dedicated to two things. his work, and his wife.

His wife—the phrase has his brain melting into pure grey matter that spills out his body in the form of love. To even think he has the opportunity to refer to you as such is priceless in itself. eren didn’t believe he could love—let alone love this hard. you ask him to run, he’ll say how far; jump—how high?

you’ve changed him—ever since he offered to drop you off in his sleek black mercedes benz parked somewhere by the valet and you giggled in response, saying ‘i’m not usually so trusting of strangers’ will the slightest glint of curiosity in your bright eyes.

and somewhere in between the months, his ten hour workdays turned to six, important software development meetings got pushed back for convenience, the accumulating days of paid time off started being used, for once, his assistant could do their job, and his new focus was you.

diamonds and pearls, nails and hair, dinners on boats and vacations on beaches, shopping sprees on his black card and all of his devotion towards you—only you.

eren…he’s a worshipper—it doesn’t take much for him to get on his knees for you. he’s not ashamed, if anything, he’s proud. he likes to say that anything that’s his, is yours; so who are you to deny what he gives you?

that’s another thing he oh so loves about you—you readily take everything he can offer. you let him take care of you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way; you’re his wife after all.

his wife, his wife.

“my wife…” eren mumbles to himself as he buries his face into the crook of your perfumed neck. the pronounced scent makes his head spin, you can’t fathom how in love with you this man is. as his large hands engulf your own, he’s met with the texture of your wedding ring that cost him over twenty grand, the one you cried over when you saw it in his hands offering it to you—but eren doesn’t think it does his adoration for you enough justice.

he prefers to show you.

while there’s no doubt that material items and dream homes are things you like to receive—there’s nothing better than the way he has you now, one leg resting atop his shoulder and the other barely slung around his waist as he steadily ruts his hips into your own.

oh, how could you be so beautiful? splayed out on the bed like a wicked man’s deepest desires and dreams; the one he secretly lusts for from across the room with no hopes to introduce himself because you’re just so out of his league. your hair is messily draped over the silk pillows, all remnants of your lipgloss/lipstick gone from your parted lips and instead smudged on his own, the gold necklace with his diamond initial was falling into the dip in your neck, and you were gazing at him with need. pure, heartfelt need.

your body arches towards him, manicured hands trailing towards your own chest to play with your nipples that hardened from the low temperature of the room. “i need you eren, make me feel you—i want it.” your voice is smooth, accompanied with a small whine that reminds him just how spoiled you are, and how it’s all his fault.

but he couldn’t care less—you deserve it for wandering into his life to make you his own.

“i know princess, i know.” he knows damn well you need him, he knows, he knows—he’s repeating it as he peppers a kiss to your jewelled ankle before pressing down on the back of your thigh to steady himself.

eren fucks like he loves—endlessly and hard.

maybe that’s why the way he bullies your pussy while bottoming out has you grasping at the threads of the sheets and chanting his name like a hymn followed by prayer. he lets your cunt feel every bit of him, the ridges—veins, down to the last inch. he’s terrifyingly big, another thing you love about him.

his dick feels like it’s mushing your insides, curving up against your spongy walls that oh so desperately tighten around him. every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head rolling to the side. your uncontrolled moans turn to sobs when you feel his tip tickle your cervix—and boy does it make him a rejuvenated man.

“look at me.” his words barely register as syllables in your clouded mind—you keep your head turned, eyes focused shut as your body shakes upwards from the fervour of his unrelenting tempo. there’s a lot of things eren can have, and you not watching the way his slick covered dick slips in and out of your weeping pussy isn’t one of them. “you have to look at me pretty girl.” his tone is soft but firm, thick fingers taking your chin in his hands and turning you towards him once again.

“see how well you’re taking me? all of it.” he gives you a million dollar smile, hinting for you to watch where the two of you connect. “your pretty cunt just wants it so bad, right?”

“oh, eren…” it’s always a sudden surprise how soiled his mouth can get at times like this. heeding his request, you watch his cock disappear in your folds—and you sight of it has you fluttering around him like a whore.

“you were made for me, weren’t you? prettiest sight i’ve ever seen.” you’ve heard his praises a multitude of times, having him ramble on about fucking you so much your walls moulded to fit him like a tight glove, only that now, he’s saying it to your pussy instead.

“only you ‘ren, was made just for you.” you babble out, feverishly bucking your hips up to meet his ruts.

when your eyes finally rip away from below and back up to his face, the look he wears has your cunt melting like putty. with furrowed brows, a dip in his forehead and a bitten lip, he watches your body move with each fuck. even in such a sinful position, you were just so divine.

almost subconsciously, his ringed hand moves from your hip and over to your torso, gliding over your pierced belly and stopped at your lower stomach, “I’m right here baby.” gently, he applies pressure to the spot, making your eyes blow open as you moan in response. the feeling gives you butterflies—ones that go straight to your clit and stimulate the nerves in your shaky legs.

“cummin—eren i’m cumming!” you’re rambling, scrambling to push his hand away from your belly, but it’s all too late, and eren knows that well. how could he not? your body is a temple, he’s explored every inch of it, and the sudden vice grip your walls have you him and periodic throb of your cunt is all too telling. your orgasm is drawn out, legs spazzing around your entranced husband, “mm, oh-fuck! yesyesyes eren, don’t stop!”

oh, aren’t you just perfect. his eyes soften when he watches how your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, only to capture it in a languid and sloppy kiss, teeth grazing your plump lips and sucking on them like a sweet. you whine he pulls himself away from your body completely, instead he takes the time to tack his thumb to your puffy clit, rubbing feint circles and the occasional attempted heart on the bud. he always does this, coaxing out the last of your orgasm with nimble fingers that you dream about

“you gonna let me take good care of you?” he asks softly between hushed breaths while grabbing hold of both your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. helplessly, all you can do is nod; you’re in a trance at the very sight of him. his defined torso is illuminated by the back light of one of the many lamps in your bedroom, his hair is slipping from its captive elastic band, the grip of his hands on your ankles sends searing hot pulses straight to your sensitive clit.

he gives himself a few good pumps, sliding his length between your folds. your wetness aids him in bottoming out once again, but your sensitivity has you squirming in his hold. “gotta stay put baby.” he marvels, talking you into submission, “that’s my girl.”

his praises are followed by the shift of his hands down to the back of your thighs, they gently rub the plush skin before pushing them down to meet your chest. while there are some circumstances where looking down at you sparks something within him, eren likes to be eye to eye with you when he’s balls deep—turns him on even more being in such close proximity with such a captivating woman.

you squeal from the uncomfortable burn in your hamstring from being folded in half with the additional feeling of eren’s body weight on your own. you swear that you can feel your heart palpitating in your ears as you feverishly clench around him. “it’s too much! can’t take it, can’t take it!”

“of course you can, you know you can, your pussy takes everything i give it.” eren speaks between juts, pressing your knees to your shoulder blades as he pistons into you without any regard for decency. his thrust feel like a hammer, knocking your body into the memory foam mattress you begged him to buy.

stars cloud your eyes as he wraps himself tighter around you, head in the side of your neck as he peppers kisses across your skin. your pants and gasps are loud, amplifying the sounds of slapping skin and balls hitting the fat of your ass. his favourite part is when you dig your nails into his back, leaving cresent shaped imprints and jagged lines across it like a painter with a canvas; scars of your love.

deep groans fill your ear, soft and sweet; all eren can ramble about is you—how good you feel, how quick you can make him unravel like a ball of string, how lucky he is to have you in his life—the list goes on.

“i love you—fuck, i love you so much baby, you treat me so well.” with his declaration of love, his pace seems to increase, fucking you dumb and leaving you to heave for whatever air is left to breathe.

“i love you too, so much.” your eyes scramble around in your haywire brain, overloaded by the repeated feeling of the jackhammering going on in your walls and the non-stop cervix kisses he gives you. “it’s all yours, eren; you deserve it, you deserve this pussy. you married this, have it.”

eren jaeger doesn’t believe he’s deserving of much; has he earned things? yes. but you…laying beneath him, telling him he deserves you? it makes him never want to leave—not that he would dream of doing so in the first place.

he does deserve it—your words make his brain malfunction. he deserves it. fuck, you might just be the death of him.

you’re crying for him, grasping at any part of his body possible to get him closer to you than physically possible. your tighten around his base once more, and your hand flies down to messily prod at your clit in an attempt to play with it.

meanwhile, eren’s unrelenting pace falters; that man knows he’s going to cum soon, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it with you. so he pleads with you to give him one more—telling you that you’ve got another one bundled up in there for him. to say it’s true is unknown, but your body listens to eren, and miraculously whatever he believes will happen comes to fruition.

but your body is delicate—everyone knows delicate things break under pressure. with the unrelenting strain and stretch his dick gives your walls, the tight feeling in your core, and aching numbness in your legs, your buildup feels much more violent—ready to release all built up tension given to you by your husband.

“eren—keep on going like this and i’m gonna make a mess!” you fuss around, hand reaching to gently push his torso away in fear you may soil the freshly made sheets.

“that’s the goal.” he states as a matter of factly, brows furrowing as a suppressed groan bubbles up from his chest at the thought: pretty little face going stupid and clawing at anything within reach as you writhe and cum all over his torso and lower body. you can’t make him budge now that he’s a determined man.

his strokes grow sloppy but powerful, curved cock repeatedly ramming into your spongy spot that force your plush walls to grip around him, “you’re eating me up here, love.” he mumbles, moaning into your mouth in the disguise of a messy kiss.

the last roll that tips you over the rocky edge is a shaky one, the last one he could give before emptying himself into you. it’s thick and hot and you feel it fill you as you twitch underneath him and cover his abdomen with your juices. wordlessly, his hands reach for yours as he stills; soft lips peppering the lining of skin on your cheek.

eren jaeger knows that change is inevitable—it comes with time. but eren jaeger also knows one thing will stay the same; his love and adoration for the pretty girl laying below him.

[dystopyx-blog]

more yandere octotrio!

Dedicated to @mr-trick <3 ty for your support

"Your grades have been slipping."

When you had been called into Azul's office, you certainly weren't expecting him to scold you like a parent. To add insult to, well, insult, Jade and Floyd were there, too, and the latter couldn't stop themselves from snickering.

"I wasn't aware that was any of your business." You shot back. You didn't bother asking how he knew–you'd had twin eels trailing you since Azul's overblot. It was rare for you to go anywhere these days without the sight of one looming at you from this distance. If their heights didn't make them obvious enough, there was the eyes. Though you had a feeling stealth wasn't the goal.

You'd be right. The tweels found it very important that you knew they were close by. Azul may have preferred for them to be stealthier, but they enjoyed your reactions too much. Plus, their presence kept others away. It's probably why Azul let them continue.

But back to the scene at hand.

Azul's response comes naturally, almost too naturally–as if he was prepared for that response. "Of course it is. The success of Night Raven students has always been my business–"

The look you hit him with was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He chuckled, adjusting his tie and his approach. "Of course, business has changed in recent times. In the past the goal was to attract as many poor unfortunate souls as I could, offering contracts with the goal to better myself, and not them. But now I've mended my ways and made a switch, so to speak. Now I wish to truly help and better those I come into contact with, starting with those I already feel close or indebted to. And what better first than the one who helped me see the light in the first place."

He waited for your response, but you offered none. Not unless you included your suspicion.

"Look, business has been rough lately since the incident, and helping you seems like the best way to restore people's faith in me."

"And thus the truth comes out."

You were so proud of yourself for sussing him out. What you didn't know is that that wasn't the truth–like at all. He didn't give a fuck what the other students thought of him, especially since he was still getting business regardless. This was about you and spending time with you, the strange, magicless student that had caught his attention like a worm on a hook. Buy to you, that would be even harder to believe than an act of true goodwill.

But that didn't matter anyway, because he had you. You agreed to help him out of the goodness of your heart–taking the opportunity to mock him. It was difficult for Azul to keep the smirk from his face as you fell into his hand. He could tell the twins felt the same way. Even if he couldn't see then standing behind him, he could still tell when Jade's gloved hand went to cover his smile, and when Floyd's slight sway stilled just enough to zero in on you.

With that, a deal had been made: you let Azul help you out of the "goodness of his heart," and you spread the word of Azul's redemption arc.

As soon as you're gone, Azul lets an easy smirk spill onto his face like oil in water.

"We got 'em boys."

What would follow is a series of study sessions, every night, either with Floyd, Jade, or Azul himself. Study session with Floyd rarely involve studying. Sometimes you would start with studying, but he’d always end up getting bored at some point, and then declare you two would be doing something else. Other times, you wouldn’t even get a chance to study, as he’d already be dragging you off somewhere before you can even set your stuff down. Floyd, being Floyd, ‘something else’ could include anything depending on his mood. Some examples of activities you’ve done during study sessions with Floyd: karaoke, ping pong, pottery, a treasure hunt all over the school for something Floyd lost a while ago and had suddenly remembered at that moment (it was in his pocket), ballroom dance classes, shopping, video games, baking. You don’t even bring any study materials with you at this point.

Jade and Azul are more what you’d expect from tutors.

Jade’s method of tutoring is hands off. He mostly just has you do your homework while he sits across from you, working on his own stuff. And if you don’t have homework or finish before study time is up, he’ll give you readings and practice assignments to do. He encourages you to ask him questions whenever you have them, but for the most part, you two are silent. What you don’t realize is that he actually spends most of the time just staring at you. Studying you.

Azul is more hands on. Like with Jade, youre expected to either work on a class assignment, or one of Azul’s specially crafted study guides. Unlike Jade, who always sits across from you, Azul sits—or, more often, stands—next to you. Instead of just silently watching you work, Azul works you through each problem. He’ll often end up hovering next to you, sometimes taking your writing hand in his to guide you through whatever problem you’re working on. He also offers coffee/tea/snack breaks, where you two can just talk, not just about schoolwork, but anything else.

You’re spending every night with one of them. You often get back to Ramshackle late (especially if it was a session with Floyd). You don’t see Horns as much, if at all. Study sessions with your freshman friends become almost nonexistent. Even Grim is starting to see less and less of you everyday.

Who you end up spending the most time with is, of course, the Octotrio. Not just for nightly study sessions anymore. Floyd will approach you outside of tutoring for fun activities. Jade often offers you treats for doing so well, including trips to Sam’s and lunch at Mostró Lounge—all on him, of course. And Azul often pops in to check in on you—to make sure you’re holding up your side of the deal. And, even if you don’t realize it, there’s always at least one of them waiting to walk you to class.

It’s no secret that Azul basically always has business on the brain. And this? This was his strategic move to monopolize you, and he got you hook, line, and sinker.

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove x reader where they’re at a party (i’d like the whole crew to all be friends robin, steve, nancy, billy, eddie) and reader wanders off for a minute. she somehow gets in the middle of a fight and someone hits her. she comes up to billy crying and he goes into super protective mode? idk i thought it sounded kind of cute i love your writing!!

I miss Billy. And thank you so much!!! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Bodyguard

Billy and Y/N have been together for almost two years. They met when he moved into town, she was swept away by his charming smile and blue eyes. She was a grade younger, now finally in her senior year alongside Eddie and Robin. Billy graduated with Steve and Nancy, but they all still hung out. And since Y/N was in high school knew the popular crowd, and was King Billy's girlfriend, she got invited to a lot of parties. And the group was always happy to tag along.

Billy, Steve, and Eddie were hanging outside, passing around a cigarette as they leaned against the back of the house. Robin, Nancy, and Y/N were inside, dancing and getting drinks. The boys were chatting among random things, then Robin came rushing out. She stood by the back door and searched the crowd. Once her eyes landed on Billy she screamed for him.

~~~

"JASON! RELAX!" Y/N yelled, Jason was yanking Chrissy around the party, another fight that Y/N didn't know what about. She wanted to protect her friend, Chrissy.

"This doesn't involve you," Jason growled, his grip still on Chrissy but he got in Y/N's face. Robin and Nancy watched nervously, a bad feeling in their gut.

"Y/N, just leave it!" Nancy tried, a crowd forming around the arguing couple.

"She's not going home with you. She said no and that means no." Y/N snapped, she didn't back down, holding her head higher as Jason looked down at her.

"She's my girlfriend, so butt out," Jason said, turning around as he dragged Chrissy with him. Y/N stepped in quickly, grabbing Chrissy's other arm. Y/N yanked her back, Jason lost his grip and his hand flew back smacking Y/N right in the nose. Y/N yelped and covered her nose, feeling warm blood dripping from her nose.

~~~

"BILLY. ITS Y/N!" Billy, Steve, and Eddie all jumped into action, Billy smashed the cigarette under his shoe and raced to Robin.

Steve and Eddie knew if it involved Y/N, Billy wouldn't think rationally.

"WHAT'S WRONG?" Billy yelled, following her into the house. Robin didn't try to explain, just racing to the bathroom.

Billy felt nervous, was she sick?

Billy walked in to see Nancy holding ice to Y/N's nose, the front of her dress had spots of blood. He softly pushed Nancy aside, grabbing the ice as he held it for Y/N. Chrissy was silent in the corner.

"What happened?" He whispered, gently rubbing her cheek as he looked at her nose. It wasn't broken, which he was thankful for.

"Nothing, I'm fine, baby," she said, rubbing his arm. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were soaked. Her lip trembled as she silently cried.

"Baby, you have a bruised nose. Did you slip or something? Nothing to be embarrassed about." He joked, a smile on his face. But the atmosphere told him it wasn't anything that would be funny in a day from now.

"She was helping me and Jason flung his arm and he smacked her in the nose," Chrissy said, drowning in the amount of guilt she felt.

Billy's expression went hard in seconds. Steve and Eddie immediately blocked the door as Billy started to breathe heavily.

"He hit you?" Billy snarled, dropping the ice in the sink as he took in her face.

"It was an accident, Billy! Just relax. I'm okay!" She tried, but all Billy could focus on was the fact that she had blood on her dress because of Jason.

"You're okay? You have a fucking bloody nose! I'm going to kill him!" Billy growled. He turned and glared at Steve and Eddie.

"Move." He demanded, but both boys shook their heads.

"Billy, not a good idea. She's okay and she doesn't want you to get involved with it." Steve explained. But Billy didn't care.

"Move or I move you." Billy tried again.

Steve and Eddie looked at each other, knowing the result would land them in pain or Jason. Both boys moved away from the door, Billy yanking it open as he raced out to the party.

"BILLY!" Y/N screamed, running after him. The gang followed behind, all rushing to see what was going to happen.

By the time they caught up, Billy had Jason pinned against the wall. His blue eyes were dark as he growled at Jason.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! SHE PUT HER NOSE WHERE IT DIDN'T BELONG. MAYBE KEEP YOUR LITTLE SLUT OF THE WEEK ON A TIGHTER LEASH!" Jason yelled, barely realizing his mistake until Billy landed a knee to his stomach, over and over.

Jason screamed in pain as Billy dropped him, his body crumpling to the floor as he held his stomach. Now on his knees, Billy landed a punch right across his face. Blood poured out of Jason's nose as he dropped completely to the ground this time. He wrapped his arms around his face as he tried to surrender.

"Enough" Eddie demanded, stepping in front of Jason as Billy went to land a kick to his stomach.

"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HER OR EVEN TALK ABOUT HER AGAIN!" Billy screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Eddie said, snapping his fingers in Billy's face to catch his attention. Billy finally looked at him, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

"He got the message. Y/N is fine and needs you now. Okay? Walk away."

Billy listened to Eddie's words and took a deep breath. His body relaxed when he felt Y/N's hand slip into his. She squeezed it gently as she stood next to him. She gave him a look and he understood everything. He nodded and walked with her. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her nose as they walked to his car.

"My bodyguard." Y/N swooned, giggling as she snuggled into his body, reaching his car.

"Precious things like you need extra protection," Billy said, smiling as he leaned down to peck her lips softly.

The gang races out, Robin laughing as she held empty bottles of beer, along with Nancy.

"GET IN! GO GO!" Steve yelled, Eddie running behind.

A soaked Jason came limping out, his white shirt now drenched as he held his nose. Cursing as the gang raced into the car and sped off.

[jk97]

Unprofessional Attraction | THREE

♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 23.6K ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff, ANGST, and explicit content (mdni), teacher/student relationship, some other members are featured, drinking alcohol, bigdick!yunho, pet names (angel, pretty, sweetheart, etc.), possessive/obsessive/toxic behavior, cunnilingus, hickeys, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie(s), jealousy, blackmail ♡ A/N - I’m soooo sorry this took me forever to write (it’s so many words ahhh 🫠) but hopefully this is worth the wait. The next part will be the finale of this series. This also isn't beta read so I apologize for mistakes ahhh. I love ya’ll, thank you for your patience friends, STREAM GOLDEN HOUR ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“You could at least try a little harder to pretend you want to be here with me, ____.”

Wooyoung’s antsy fingers pinch at the straw of his drink while he watches you thumb away at your phone. Going back and forth with your friends in the group chat about Jongho’s upcoming recital is the only thing calming your nerves this afternoon. When you had agreed to his ruse, you didn’t realize you were signing up for public humiliation. Those two words might be a bit dramatic, but sitting together in the dead center of the campus food court has you immensely anxious either way. This is entirely way too public…

You don’t mean to offend him with your embarrassment. It’s not like Wooyoung isn’t handsome; in fact, that might make things worse. It helps draw in too much unnecessary attention from other women, and it feels as though there might as well be a spotlight circling your table. Luckily, Yunho has a lecture through the next hour today, so you’re not too concerned on that front. Regardless, your first fake date with him is starting to be nothing short of awkward. 

“You can’t even look me in the eyes?” He inquires further.

“I’m sorry,” you find it within yourself to apologize, placing your phone face down on the table and sliding it away. To offset your anxiety, you put new effort into inspecting your food and preparing to finally eat it. Anything to just keep busy. “This is just a little out of my comfort zone.”

“Pretend I’m Mr. Jeong if that makes it easier,” he suggests, but his tone hangs on the edge of condescension. It’s not all that intentional, but he’s poking the bear. “I have access to the grade book all the same, you know.”

With narrowed eyes, you try to let his wisecrack roll off your shoulder, “That’s not a very funny joke.”

Continuing to avoid his eyes, Wooyoung watches you put all your attention into eating the meal he’s bought you so that you both can pretend to be on this lunch date. He was gracious enough to offer to pay for any meals you share moving forward, as long as it would make things easier on you while being a part of his plan. That’s what a real boyfriend would do anyway, right? Though, right now you’re not treating him like a boyfriend— you’re treating him like some kind of dirtbag with an open wallet. He can feel his own appetite slipping away slowly but surely.

“What are you both anyway, fuck buddies?” He asks a little too bluntly.

It might be a bit muffled, as your mouth is stuffed with food, but you still manage to retort, “That’s none of your business, actually.”

His increasing annoyance is evident by the deep exhale he tries (and fails) to suppress. Wooyoung doesn’t want things to be so tense, but you’re not exactly making it easy. He supposes you might gain some sympathy for him if he explains his troubles. You seem like a genuine person despite any contempt you might hold for him right now, so he figures you’ll be understanding. He needs to make conversation in some kind of way, anyway.

“How about I tell you a bit about my situation then?” He finally offers. You hum to let him know you’re listening, so he continues, “She and I were together for the last three years, but then she broke up with me a few months ago. And over something so stupid, really.”

“Go on,” you encourage, swallowing the bulk of food in your throat.

“Well, I need a master's degree to get the specific job I want… After telling her, one of her friends got in her ear about how me staying in school might hold her back after we graduate next year.” Wooyoung tries to sound indifferent to her friend’s heavy influence on her decisions, but the look behind his eyes, as he glances around to see if she’s in the area, says otherwise. It’s full of bitterness and hurt. “She wants to travel for a year before getting a job, and they told her I’d stress her out too much with a long-distance relationship. She took that to heart, for whatever reason.”

Would it be a lie if you said you didn’t support a tiny bit of actual pity towards Wooyoung? Probably. Knowing what you know now, you ponder more about the tight situation between you. He’s an intelligent guy, and you’re sure he knows exactly what Yunho is to you with the way you get touchy about his name even being mentioned. That’s why he’s using someone else’s happiness to retrieve his own once more. While that’s not exactly just, you’re aware that love makes people do crazy things. Moreover, you know you in particular can’t judge anyone after doing what you’ve done to achieve Yunho’s attention.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” is all you can reply, but it’s genuine.

Before you can process what’s happening, Wooyoung suddenly reaches across the table and links his fingers with your free hand in an act of endearment. Your cheeks prickle with heat, not from being charmed, but from more humiliation. This is embarrassing, suddenly having to do public displays of affection with someone you don’t even like in front of whoever is looking hard enough to notice.

“Don’t turn around, she’s here with a friend,” he mumbles, and then an affectionate smile tugs at his lips. It looks fairly genuine… He is much too good at looking charming on the drop of a dime. “Do you think it’d be too corny if we wore some matching outfits a couple times?”

You hesitate for the briefest second before squeezing his hand with false affection and leaning forward on your elbows to seem more interested.

Nobody is close enough to hear you reply, “Are you trying to win her back or get her to block you? Because I honestly can’t tell.”

“It’s just a little joke. Laugh a little, I beg,” Wooyoung pouts. 

He leads your connected hand to fondle his cheek, trying to inconspicuously guide you through the motions. If Wooyoung didn’t know any better, he would assume you’ve never been on a date in your life. His hopes were much higher than this, as you’re much too pretty to be this stiff when it comes to showing affection. It almost has him second-guessing whether he’s right about you and Yunho being involved more than just sexually. Much to his surprise, your hand finally relaxes against his face, and he revels in the way you even stroke his skin with your thumb. The timing couldn’t be more ideal, truly. He can sense the attention of his intended audience, and the corners of his mouth curl into a subtle smirk of approval. 

“That’s perfect. Keep going.” 

“Don’t push it, please.”

For the rest of that week, Wooyoung insisted on repeating these kinds of daily rendezvous. This request also accompanied another for walking each other to class when applicable. He knew he couldn’t always time it right for when she’d be present, but he had his workarounds. He was fairly knowledgeable about a few of her friends’ class schedules, and he made it a point to walk with you on paths that would often intersect with those who he knew would inform her of his behavior instead. Occasionally, he would ask you to show up to school a little more fetching than usual, with prettier clothes and makeup. Wooyoung also made a point of concealing her identity from you, for reasons unbeknownst to you. He failed to tell you any more details about her after your first date, and that included basics as simple as her name. Several possibilities were considered when you finally identified this as a problem. The rational explanation would be that he doesn’t want you approaching her on your own time and taking things into your own hands. A particular irrational explanation starts infiltrating your thoughts with the more days that pass by bearing no evidence of progress:

“I’m starting to believe this ex of yours doesn’t exist.”

Your snide remark about his secrecy started as a joke. 

“I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”

His terse reply didn’t necessarily extinguish the conspiracy behind your jest. After consistently being told not to look in certain directions for nearly two weeks, and no updates on her position, it became harder to believe his words. Despite everything, you do as you’re told and pray that his ex breaks through sooner rather than later.

I’m sorry.

It seems as though those two words haven’t stopped coming out of your mouth ever since you stepped foot in Yunho’s home this evening. 

It begins with apologizing profusely for asking to come over on such short notice. Your complex’s Wi-Fi went out due to the wintery mix storm slamming the town tonight. Wooyoung’s been trying to lay it on thick the last few days and make your presence more than known to his ex, anywhere and every way that he can. Consequently, with a lot of your free time being taken away by him, you found little time to put towards important assignments due at the end of this week. The lack of Wi-Fi is the absolute last thing you need to happen right now. 

Yunho doesn’t care about your abrupt presence at his door or even the way you track slush past his doorstep. He's more concerned about how you drove in the middle of a huge storm so late into the evening with no care for your safety. Over and over, you find new things to apologize for that make no sense to him. Another set of frazzled apologies comes from your mouth for keeping him up late after an hour or two passes. Yunho can’t help but genuinely laugh at this one.

“You do realize what day it is, right?” He inquires. The clueless look on your face makes him sit up, “It’s Saturday, ____. The day you typically come over and spend the night. I actually texted you about it earlier today, I didn’t know if you still wanted to or not since you were so busy last Saturday.”

This epiphany makes you immensely bashful and draws many more apologies out of you for your poor memory and lack of communication. How could I have lost time so badly that I forgot to reply to him about something we do so routinely? Under your stressful circumstances lately, your days are running together, and there’s just too much on your plate to appease everyone. Yunho visibly sees the shame blanket you from head to toe, and he hopes he didn’t come across as if he was upset with your behavior. In fact, he’s more concerned than anything.

Your lover can hear you type much faster after this brief exchange and he scoffs. Surely you don’t believe he’d willingly let you make haste of your work so you can disappear for another week or two… he groans internally when he realizes that’s exactly what you’re doing. He doesn’t understand why you’re so self-conscious and sheepish tonight, but he’s not going to press it. Instead, he rises from his spot on his couch and creeps over to where you’re seated at his table. His hands find the slopes of your shoulders and thumbs rub comforting circles into your muscles.

“You know you’re not going home tonight, right?” He questions after a moment of being nosey and peeking at your screen.

“And why not?”

The abrupt feeling of Yunho’s large palm skating up the skin of your throat before pushing your chin up to meet his gaze above you makes a chill run up your spine. His eyes are warm and concerned, yet stern.

“Because I said so,” he says point-blank.

Whether it be because of the terrible storm still slapping at his windows, or maybe even the fact that he hasn’t seen you outside of a classroom in quite some time, he knows this succinct answer suffices just as well those do. The subsequent pout on your lips to him is seen simply as an invitation to kiss them, and he does just that. You don’t even try to argue any further. It may not be your best work this semester, but it’s not too much longer after that when you finally submit everything due before its midnight deadline.

After briefly disappearing to his room to rummage through his dresser and change into something more comfortable, you eventually join him on the couch. Tonight’s position of choice has your head using his thighs as a pillow, cheek squished against his soft sweatpants as he spends endless minutes massaging the tense muscles of your back and shoulders with his fingers. He smells so good… that lavender and musk mix has you closing your eyes every handful of seconds just to breathe him in. Even if he can’t see your face, it’s obvious that you’re not paying attention to the movie he has on the TV, so he suggests that maybe you both should move to the bedroom so you can be more comfortable. You assure him that you’re more than comfortable right where you’re at, and that’s the truth.

Despite laying so peacefully with him, in what should be a moment of sedating intimacy, your mind is still reeling with things that need to be accomplished in the next few weeks. Every time you mentally check off something on your list, there are several more things added after, such as your three final exams, Yunho’s final paper, returning your textbook rentals, finally figuring out your ceremony dress, picking up your guests’ ceremony tickets–

“Are you going to attend my ceremony?” 

Yunho hears you mumble this randomly after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. You’re sure he doesn’t need a ticket as a teacher, but the thought of having to get them brings you back to earth and reminds you of his presence.

“That was the plan,” he confirms, but hesitantly adds, “Unless you don’t want me there. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

The way you’re acting lately has him questioning things like this, now that he thinks about it. You immediately dispel his apprehension with a displeased grunt.

“No, I… really need you there.��

Yunho’s hand falters slightly in its kneading. He’s grateful that you’re unable to see his face with how you’re lying because the apples of his cheeks are taut from the overjoyed smile threatening to break through his lips. It’s one thing to be admired or adored by someone, but it’s another thing to be needed. He doesn’t hear that word often, if at all, but hearing it come from your mouth makes it even more monumental to him. That’s something he could get used to. Yunho hums in understanding, wordlessly confirming that he’ll be present. Following along the topic of graduation, he decides to ask something present on his mind recently.

“Have you thought about what you want to do after graduation?” 

“Career-wise or celebration-wise?”

“Whichever… or both.”

You close your eyes to think. Nothing immediately comes to mind in terms of celebrating, but you’re sure your friends will be holding parties to attend. Putting that aside, you turn over and decide to open up a bit about your impending employment.

“I had a great internship last semester that I put my all into,” you divulge, “They wanted to bring me on full-time, so I asked if they could hold the position and wait for me to finish my degree this semester. Lucky me, they agreed.”

“Already set up for success right after you leave that stage… You’re amazing,” Yunho marvels. “I suppose I’m just as lucky too, huh? I get to watch you shine, front row.”

There’s a brief moment where you peer up and match his fond smile that’s already beaming right back down at you. When you reach up to caress his cheek, Yunho leans into your touch as if it’s second nature. The further you both dive into this relationship, it feels as though maybe you’ve finally found an additional frontline cheerleader.

“Mhm, something like that,” you tease. When he turns to kiss your palm in his form of congratulations, you sigh. Your hands have been tainted by someone else’s touch, and here he is blindly showing them genuine affection. Before you can help it, another apology comes out, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Yu.”

“Why do you keep apologizing tonight for things you can’t control?” The gentle, unsuspecting laugh he lets out makes the guilt sitting in your chest about Wooyoung just a little bit heavier. “It’s finals season, I know how it goes.”

When your hand returns to your chest, your gaze falls just the same. He’s right, albeit unknowingly. With those words, you can finally accept that you have no control over your current situation at all. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself that you’re guiding this blackmail ship forward, you’re just not. In any case, you still feel like you’re doing what’s best for Yunho's future. Tonight’s tornado of apologies have all been unconscious overcompensation. As much as you feel like you need to, you know you shouldn’t have to apologize for your shortcomings when they result from such unmanageable circumstances. You’re doing your best, even if your best isn’t enough just yet. 

Yunho can’t figure out what it is about tonight, but you seem like your head is a bit more in the clouds than usual. You’re here with him physically, but he can tell you’re somewhere else mentally. However, he acknowledges that he could be reading into things too much since it’s been a while since you both have spent time privately.

“Hey, stargazer, everything okay?” he finally asks in a soft voice, gently tugging on your cheek to bring you back to the present.

“Sorry—yeah, everything’s alright,” you reassure him. There’s something behind those soft eyes you’re giving him that makes him question your answer, but he keeps those concerns to himself and simply nods. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over with, I promise.”

You’re no longer talking about school with those words. He’ll probably never truly understand how much weight that sentence holds, but that’s okay. For the rest of your time with him tonight, you pretend that none of your problems exist outside his home. He deserves your unwavering attention tonight, at the very least. 

On the first day of the following week, Wooyoung requests your presence in front of some familiar dormitories. It’s been quite some time now since you’ve been on this side of campus, considering you moved into your current apartment around the end of your junior year. The nostalgic feeling you get when meandering your way to your meeting place doesn’t do much to alleviate the anxiety you regularly get every time Wooyoung brings you somewhere so populated.

“What are we doing here again?”

“I heard she’s swinging by here today to drop something off for a mutual friend,” he explains while his eyes still scope the area for her presence, as usual. 

You busy yourself with playing on your phone, keeping your head down and yourself hidden for as long as you can manage. This place, while technically not as densely populated as the dining space you frequent, has too many opportunities for lurking gazes. This particular set of dormitories sits on the side of campus that encompasses a good amount of academic halls and the largest campus library. There are plenty of teachers and students walking to classes or accessing the library, and even more lingering outside within the surrounding courtyard despite the frigid weather. Wooyoung had insisted on holding you by your waist for the time being as well, citing something about how “normal couples warm each other up”. You just want this to be over with as quickly as possible before too many people can see you both standing so close together. 

“Hey, ____,” Wooyoung hums after a while, catching your attention quickly.

“Hm?”

Before you can even fully look up from your phone, Wooyoung’s head dips down and seeks out your lips. Shock is an understatement; the feeling of your heart seizing in unison with your limbs makes you feel like you might as well be flatlining. This cannot be—

“Relax,” he whispers before deepening this kiss, interrupting your thought as his tongue enters your mouth. 

Reluctantly, you do as he says and try your best to relax while kissing him back. Over and over, you remind yourself this is supposed to be putting on a show in front of his ex. You try to allow yourself to fully slip into the role you have been forced to play. Your hands find purchase on his jacket, albeit uneasily. For someone who’s making your life so much more difficult, you can’t deny he’s at least a decent kisser. This moment feels like it lasts entirely too long, but eventually, Wooyoung pulls away and you watch his eyes dart around somewhere behind you. 

“She’s gone now,” he sighs, “Pretty sure she saw that though. Nice job.”

“Don’t ever do that without warning me beforehand again,” you scold him in a voice low enough for his ears to hear only. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, though he follows up with an apology. Even though it seems genuine, it does nothing to quell the immediate guilt that washes over you the moment you go to swipe saliva off of your lips with your thumb. The nauseous feeling stirring in your stomach over simply kissing someone else other than Yunho begins to build up and feel unbearable, “Can I go now? I’m supposed to meet with a teacher during their office hours soon.”

Despite the tremor of uneasiness in your voice, Wooyoung believes your lie without question. That uneasiness doesn’t depart your system for the remainder of the day even after removing his presence, and you decide to call it quits early instead of attending your final class. This feeling of guilt, almost as if you cheated while in a relationship, has you more saddened than frustrated tonight. To make things easier to deal with, you repeat the same phrase about you and Yunho in your head over and over.

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While you cook yourself dinner–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

While working on your final paper–

It’s okay, we’re not together yet.

Yunho’s failure to text you back that evening before going to bed makes that fact easier to swallow. It’s the truth, so it shouldn’t be so hard to digest, right?

Yeosang does not expect much when he asks you out of the blue the next day to come and spend time with him after school. His roommate is gone for the week to visit family and he’s all by his lonesome. For the majority of the month, he’s become used to you declining in favor of completing overdue work. He’s not used to you being so behind on your work, and it doesn’t quite make sense to him when other times you say you’re even busier throughout the day. You look a bit more drained than usual when he Facetimes you that afternoon to suggest it, but he figures he wouldn’t be that upset to hear another no if you need the rest. 

The answer was yes, for the first time in a while. 

As luck would have it, the imaginary shackles on you had been released for the day, and having time to yourself for an entire weekday almost felt strange. Your personified migraine had texted you early in the morning informing you he’d be out of town for the day to attend some seminar that you didn’t care enough to remember the details of. Yeosang doesn’t do a good enough job concealing his shock the moment confirmation comes from your mouth, and you feign offense.

“I'm being punked, right?”

You scoff, “I don’t like the way you’re acting like this is bizarre, loser.”

You both know that’s a fairly accurate word considering your disappearances these last couple of weeks. His broad smile at your usual banter makes you feel cherished and missed, and it’s comforting for him to know you still have such a sense of humor even through your fatigue. He’s secretly been concerned for your well-being, but he didn’t want to seem meddlesome. Eventually, you go from two faces on a screen to you perched at his kitchen table. Yeosang insisted he cook you a nice homecooked meal when you mentioned to him in passing how much you miss eating his food. His back might be turned away, but he’s still actively engaging in discussion with you over the controversial love triangle taking place on the dating reality show he has you catching up on with him tonight. Toward the end of an episode, it takes you a few minutes of rambling to realize your best friend has grown silent while he cooks. Behind your back, he’s busy ruminating over thoughts of love triangles when he decides to finally uncork the bottle he’s been keeping closed in an attempt to have a peaceful evening.

“Can I ask you a question?” Yeosang calls out suddenly over the sound of oil popping in his pan.

Your eyes stay glued to the television, but you hum in consent, “What’s up?”

“Is it true that you’re dating Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung.

His name is a burden to you these days; the syllables of it only bring you discomfort. Hearing it mentioned on a day when you almost felt like you could get away from him draws a long beat of silence from you, though Yeosang doesn’t turn around to confront such silence. He allows you the time to answer however you’d like to if you would even provide one. Even though he was somewhat putting you on the spot with such a question, Yeosang is still your best friend at the end of the day. He’s not the kind of person to pressure you or give you a hard time about your private business, despite the times he rags on you in jest. 

The truthful answer is right on the tip of your tongue, begging to be shouted, but you don’t have the strength to say such a thing yet. Instead, you inquire, “Who did you hear that from?” 

You don’t mean to, but you sound a bit miffed when asking. Until this point, you had hoped your fake relationship with Wooyoung wasn’t too obvious to those who don’t pay close enough attention, but the feeling of failure is now pooling in the depths of your stomach. You should’ve known better. 

“When someone begins getting close to the TA who’s in charge of their grades, I guess it’s understandable that there would be some rumors… Some people in our class are saying you’re together now,” Yeosang explains, voice as calm as ever while he continues to push around the meat in the pan. “I overheard those speculations and I didn’t really believe any of it at all. Unlike them, I know you’re already seeing Mr. Jeong.”

Yeosang pauses to allow you a chance to say any words you wish to insert if anything. Being amongst speculations of wooing someone to raise your grades is the least of your worries, and you honestly couldn’t care less if people believed such silly things in the last semester of your college career. At this moment, you are much more concerned about Yunho catching light of such rumors, or really anything regarding you and Wooyoung in the same sentence reaching his ears. It didn’t seem that way when you were both in each other’s presence a few days ago talking about your future, and you’re sure that he would’ve confronted you about such things if he could. Still…

“I’m not dating Wooyoung, nor would I even think of doing that for my grades. You know me, Yeo.”

You’re sure Yeosang can feel your eyes gazing over at him now, boring anxious holes through his back. You know he can hear the uneasiness plaguing you, making your words waver.

“I understand, I do. It’s just…” Yeosang pauses once more to find the right words that don’t sound so accusatory, “Hongjoong told me he saw you both on each other on his way to class the other day. I figured I’d simply ask you about that before I come to any conclusions, that’s all.”

Several beats of silence pass before you feel like you’ve finally drowned deep in this ocean of stress you’ve been trying to keep afloat in.

“Yeosang, I’m in over my head and I can’t handle this anymore.”

Yeosang finally ceases his stirring and peers over at you the moment the last syllable leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve both met each other’s eyes since he began cooking and his gaze is undeniably the most concerned you’ve seen him give you in years. He can’t help it when he can so clearly hear the hurt in your voice. He knows you’re a bit more reserved these days when talking about your relationship with your teacher, and he understands that it could be out of respect for his privacy. This moment doesn’t seem like a situation where that’s applicable anymore.

Navigating this situation all by yourself is draining. 

These last months in college are supposed to be nerve-wracking in an exciting way, finishing finals and prepping yourself to walk across the stage for your diploma. You’re supposed to be anxious about what to wear and how to do your makeup for your ceremony, about how you should smile when the ceremony’s photographer tells you where to look as you grab that fake symbolic roll of paper. Instead, you’ve been running yourself dry trying to appease a man who’s threatening to ruin one of the best things to happen to you thus far in life. You just want to be happy. Yeosang was right in warning you about playing with fire when pursuing Yunho, but it all still hurts so fucking badly.

“I want to help you ____, but you have to be honest with me,” he stresses, “I’m concerned about you. Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

You’re uncomfortably silent for a moment, eyes glued to his while contemplating his words. At last, you decide to broach the subject of all your mental stress. If you trusted anyone to help you navigate this situation, it was going to be him. This was no longer something you could handle on your own. 

“I’m being blackmailed by Wooyoung.”

The words don’t even sound real coming out of your mouth when you finally betray the promise of silence you made to Wooyoung.

Yeosang’s brows draw together even closer in concern, “What?”

“Wooyoung found out that Yunho and I are together,” you confess further, words running out as quickly as you can think to say them, “And now he’s forcing me to date him to make his ex jealous. He wouldn’t stay quiet otherwise, and it’s all my fault, Yeosang. It’s all my fault.”

Your best friend pushes his pan away from the eye of the stove and makes haste over to where you’re sitting. He knows you better than you know yourself sometimes, already sensing you crumbling before you can realize that you’re finally breaking down. All of the pent-up stress over the last couple of weeks was finally taking its toll. 

“I thought it would be over quickly, but it doesn’t seem like we’re making any progress,” you sputter, putting your head in your hands and pressing your palms to your eyes. The last thing you want to do is cry over a man who doesn’t deserve your tears. “He won’t even tell me who she is. I can’t handle this anymore, I just can’t.”

Yeosang’s arms wrap around you to ground you before you can allow yourself to descend further into your breakdown. Very few times has he seen your foundation be shaken so badly by something. You’re one of the strongest people he knows, and it takes a lot to disintegrate the fortitude you hold. He knows he can help you build it back later, he’s your best friend for a reason. For right now, though, he’ll let you get everything out that you’ve been holding in and dealing with by yourself. He knows you probably had your reasons to keep such things inside and away from him.

“He kissed me yesterday and I felt so guilty for the rest of the day, like I betrayed Yunho,” you tell him, and before you realize it tears are finally brimming in your eyes.

“Be kind to yourself, ____,” Yeosang hums while he holds your face in his hands. “You didn’t do that because you wanted to, it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, okay?”

Hearing those words for the first time since this all began allows a veil of peace to cover you and you nod, finally accepting your need for help. Yeosang promises you that he will do whatever he can to find out who Wooyoung has his sights set so heavy on without interfering enough to throw things out of kilter. His help could be the only chance you had at getting this charade to end faster, even if it meant riskily trying to nudge things along behind Wooyoung’s back. You were no longer satisfied with being patient, and you now realize you don’t have to settle for that anymore.

While you might’ve gained some peace that night, around 2 AM that morning, there is no peace to be found in the home of your lover.

Yunho’s been staring at his ceiling for the last hour, unable to sleep even though he knows he needs to be up in a handful of hours for work. He had tried to push this situation plaguing his thoughts out of his mind all day yesterday, but his brain does its worst on nights when he’s left to his own devices and his thoughts spiral. At least tonight it’s not for self-sabotaging reasons like he’s prone to. 

He allows himself to close his eyes and relive the moment when he saw you and his assistant kissing on his way to a multi-department meeting at the library. The moment he recalls the way your hands were clutching Wooyoung’s chest, he grimaces with unadulterated resentment. For the entirety of yesterday, he felt numb. He went through the day simply going through the motions, lacking any of his usual charisma and cordiality amongst most people he crossed paths with throughout the day. He was able to put on a mask for his students at the very least. How is one supposed to act when they see their girlfriend kissing another man? That’s when he has to remind himself:

She’s not my girlfriend.

At least, he doesn’t know if you are or not, since you haven’t said it out of your mouth yet. This is exactly the kind of bothersome bullshit he was so worried about weeks ago when he realized the severity of his feelings for you. He should’ve had the conversation with you earlier to see where your head was at, but he put it off for so long under the excuse of being afraid of scaring you off. He wonders if maybe you think he’s not serious about you enough since he’s never brought it up first. And sure, he knows you both aren’t technically together right now, but you could’ve at least let him know that you’re seeing more people than him, right? It hurts a little more that it’s also his assistant of all people.

He turns onto his side in a huff and buries himself deeper under his blanket. Yunho wishes he hadn’t fallen for you so hard. It’s hard enough to deal with his feelings as things are now, especially with the circumstances, but the introduction of competition might just drive him insane. She’s a grown woman and she’s allowed to do whatever she wants, he reminds himself reluctantly while closing his eyes once more, but again—a heads-up would’ve been nice. He doesn’t even know how to approach this situation moving forward. How is he supposed to look you in the eyes today during class?

The answer is that he doesn’t. 

If he can help it, he actively avoids those engaged eyes of yours while he goes on for an hour about pragmatics. He doesn’t even look over at your side of the room. It’s not until the mid-class break that he takes multiple swift glances over at you chatting with Yeosang about something that’s got you enthusiastic. That smile on your face while excitement physically pours out of you makes his eyes soften. He wonders if you’re discussing graduation, as it is coming up in some weeks now. Then, he remembers that he wanted to take you away or do something relaxing to celebrate since you seemed to not have existing plans. Would that sway you back over to his side, if he planned something nice and spoiled the surprise early? Before he can even finish that train of thought, he finds himself finally meeting your eyes while you briefly let yours wander around in the middle of a sentence. The sneaky flirtatious wink you send his way makes him clear his throat bashfully and adjust his tie.

Yunho spends the remainder of class discussing the final paper and offering to read any final drafts that people would like feedback on, as long as they’re submitted by a specific date. He knows he’s probably shooting himself in the foot by putting that kind of work on his plate so close to the deadline, but he genuinely wants people to do well on his final and he knows there are quite a few seniors in this particular class section. The least he can do is make sure those of you end your college careers with a satisfactory grade to finish off your transcripts. He did very well with his midterm evaluations as well, so he wants to do the same for his finals. 

When class ends, Yunho finally takes notice of how Wooyoung has been leaving as early as everyone else lately. He could’ve sworn Wooyoung used to stick around to ask him questions, and often times he even departed after Yunho had already departed. He also notices that you are nowhere to be found now even though Yeosang is still present, seemingly already having fled the room for one reason or another. He doesn’t want to think about if he’s been so oblivious to these kinds of things up until this point, but the thought of you and Wooyoung rushing to meet up after his classes sticks with him for the rest of the day.

Yunho can admit he’s a bit toxic sometimes. 

It happens in moments of weakness where he lets his selfishness outweigh anything else. He reasons to himself that this isn’t one of those situations as he stands in front of your apartment door late into the evening of that same day. He had called you and asked if he could come see you at your place, which rarely happens. While it caught you by surprise, and you were in the midst of work, you were still as welcoming as ever. He knows you’d never say no. He’d never admit it aloud, but he’s not solely here just to see you—he’s here to be a bit nosy. 

It’s freezing outside, so when you finally open the door he’s scrambling to get inside.

“That was fast,” you marvel. 

When you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a hug, your shivers and giggles are like white noise in his ears as his eyes sweep the room. He doesn’t notice anything out of place, nothing that would make it seem like anybody other than you had been present here anytime soon anyway. His cold hands slide up the slope of your back to cup the sides of your face, and he offers you a sweet closed-mouth smile before briefly pressing his lips to yours in greeting.

“Yeah, traffic was pretty non-existent,” he hums.

“I made soup since it’s so frosty,” you glance towards the kitchen as your hands go to unzip his jacket for him, “Are you hungry?”

“If you’re cooking, always.”

Tonight, Yunho takes things slow. 

From graciously eating your cooking to cuddling on your couch, he builds up the intimacy minute by minute. It’s something he’s been craving from you lately, that feeling of intimacy and domestication. He’s more than willing to indulge you when grow aroused by something as innocent as him mindlessly drawing shapes on your thighs with his fingers, slowly shifting them inside your pajama shorts when you whisper, “I want you to touch me.”

“I’m already touching you, baby.”

You push his hand just a smidge lower, whining, “You know what I mean.”

When things finally move to the bedroom, Yunho fucks you nice and slow, and it feels much more intimate than any of your previous times together. Slow, steady rolls of his hips into yours like he’s intent on showing you every ounce of love he holds for you in his body if he’s unable to say it outright himself. Nothing inherently strikes you as odd about the way his demeanor is different tonight. In fact, this kind of pure intimacy is something you’d been curious to experience from him. It almost makes you feel like you’re officially together. Sure, sex is naturally intimate, but this? This feels different. 

His hands go from holding yours beside your head so affectionately to passionately gripping and kneading the plush skin of your sides and thighs like they’re fresh dough. It’s like he’s trying to solidify that this is reality, that you’re truly here in his hands and not someone else's. Grip strong enough to dig deep into the tissue and make you moan, but gentle enough not to leave bruising marks. Truth be told, he’d rather leave marks of where he’s been in less covert places. That’s why his mouth subconsciously finds its way to your neck before you feel the gentle drag of his teeth on your skin. It’s too quick to even be considered a warning.

“Yu, wait–”

You begin to tell him he can’t leave hickeys in such open places, but Yunho quiets you by sucking your skin anyway. The first one is on the tender skin just under your jaw, right where he can feel the pulse of how fast your heart is beating with his tongue. The desperate whine you let out when he finally lets up with a quiet pop! of his lips off your skin encourages him to put another on the column of your throat. You’ll probably throw a fit later when you see how bad these are and complain about the trouble of covering them up, but he really couldn’t care less. 

When he finishes off the second hickey, he kisses his way up to your lips so sweetly as if he didn’t do something so obviously possessive. As if he didnt do something so mischievous which’ll draw questions from your friends and get you flustered trying to explain. These marks are warnings as much as they are bites of love. You throw your arms around his neck and arch your back, itching for more than what he’s offering. It doesn’t matter that it still feels euphoric, those long drags of his cock against your walls just to fill you up again—it’s too slow. The breathy laugh he lets out against your lips draws a pout from your own. 

“What’s wrong pretty girl, don’t I make you feel good?” Yunho asks in a whisper, deep chocolate eyes holding your gaze while he continues to roll his hips at his leisure. He doesn’t like that he needs a bit of reassurance right now, but he wants to hear it so badly. When you nod with fervor, it’s just not good enough for him, “Tell me, angel. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“You’re everything I crave, Yu,” you oblige him breathlessly, hands scratching at the sensitive nape of his neck while you arch again. For the first time this evening, Yunho’s hips falter in their steady rhythm. He’s quite caught off guard by your choice of words; it’s as if you know exactly what he needs to hear more than he does himself. “Nobody could ever make me feel like you do.”

“Yeah? This pretty pussy needs me, huh?”

There’s that word that he now loves so much: need.

“More than you know,” you gasp when he pushes his hips into yours as deep as he can manage, obscenities bubbling from within your chest.

Even though you both have had sex many times since this all began, this part still feels fresh. The way he manages to reach new depths inside of you and stretch you out to his heart’s content feels fresh every single time. Yunho’s thrusts begin picking up some speed finally and whines claw at his throat.

“My sweet, needy baby… You’re the only one who gets this, ____,” he admits, voice trembly while he drags his lips against the sensitive skin of your jaw, kissing his previous artwork, “It’s all yours, okay?”

In a perfect world, he’d love to hear you say the same back to him, but he’s snapping his hips too roughly now to allow for words. The way you begin begging for him to give you more of himself makes up for it. Bitten-off moans tumble from your lips as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, and it makes his cock throb and ache for release. The way you’re chanting his name has his eyes fluttering up in bliss. There’s no doubt in his mind that you want him, mentally and carnally, but the real question is if he’s not enough to satisfy that want. Yunho doesn’t have time to let his mind wander off into that kind of insecure territory. His brain becomes fuzzy as he becomes eager to feel you cum stuffed full of his cock, and then see his own paint your sweaty skin. Those familiar heavy pants he lets out against your lips make you simper.

“Getting close?”

“So close,” he nods, hissing when he feels you clench at his answer, “H-hah, oh fuck.”

“Wanna cum inside?” You offer this so shyly against his lips that he nearly doesn’t hear you talking altogether. When he offers you an absentminded ‘huh’ in response, you giggle and move to speak directly in his ear, “Want you to cum inside.”

Something behind Yunho’s eyes changes when you pull back—those blown-out pupils of his with little hearts swimming in them zero in on yours with a look you can’t quite put your tongue on. You cross your ankles behind his back to emphasize your words, to show him you’re serious.

“Really want me to fill you up, pretty?” he rasps. When you bite your bottom lip and nod, he offers you a lopsided grin, “Use those fingers and catch up, then.”

You don’t need to be told twice, one hand moving from being around his neck down to your clit to rub quick circles that’ll push you over the edge together. He’s never cum in you ever since you both started having sex, but he’s feeling overwhelmingly possessive today and it might just subside if he sees his cum leaking from your cunt onto your sheets. It’s now the only thought screaming at him in that fucked-out head of his. Your mouths connecting in a messy, sensuous kiss is the final push he needs.

Yunho’s fingers wind deep into your sheets with as much strength as he can muster while he buries himself inside you, pelvis to pelvis, pushing you deeper into your mattress. The throb of his cock and the broken moan he lets out while he finally cums trigger your own orgasm. The moment you lock your legs around him to keep him in place, your walls flutter and squeeze his cock to help milk him dry. He makes a note somewhere in the lusty haze of his mind that he just has to get you both to cum at the same time like this again at another point in time because the way you’re practically squeezing every last drop from him while you fall apart is nearly making him whimper repentance for how sinful it feels. When your legs let up on their grip, he gives you a few shallow thrusts before finally pulling out. Focusing on catching your breath is hard when he’s gazing so heavily at the mess he’s made of you. 

“Don’t stare...” Yunho doesn’t even realize he’s been fascinated with watching the way his seed spills from your heat until you poorly block it with a self-conscious hand. Only then does he finally look up and find you flustered, the pout on your face growing more prominent by the second, “It’s embarrassing...”

“God, you’re so fine,” he coos. The jolt your body produces when he takes his fingers and pushes what’s been wasted back into your sensitive hole makes him laugh. “Even prettier like this too. Let’s get you cleaned up, pretty baby.”

Yunho hadn’t originally planned on sleeping over—it is a weekday after all, and he has work tomorrow morning. After showering, though, his willpower is tested. He loses nearly all his self-discipline to leave like a responsible man when you use this irresistible voice the moment he steps foot back into the room, humming honeyed words while holding his briefs behind your back to keep him from getting dressed.

“Can’t you just wake up early to swing by your house and get ready?” You eventually pout up at him when he looks as if he might change his mind. With the way your gaze is focused on his attentive eyes, you can’t see the way his cock is already twitching back to life again at your pleading eyes, the same ones you use on your knees between his thighs. He’s so thankful for that. “This is why I said you should leave some outfits over here just in case.”

“I know, I know. I should listen to you more. Can I please have my underwear back now?”

“Are you gonna stay? Please?”

He chuckles before finally conceding, “I can’t say no when you ask me so nicely, can I?” 

You nearly fall apart at the way he pulls your face up by your cheeks with firm fingers before planting a kiss of surrender on your lips. Yunho doesn’t even remember why he’s over your house anymore, now only focused on getting his underwear back from your hands before you can see him getting hard all over again. He has enough sense to know that a second round will surely be much longer than the previous one, and you both need to sleep soon if he wants to wake up early enough. Lucky for him, you’re much too tired from a full day to stay up too much longer anyway.

It’s 8 AM when Yunho’s phone starts chiming with an annoying tone he set specifically to force his awakening. That grating sound is also your punishment for persuading him to spend the night. He’s slow to turn it off specifically for that reason, and a lazy smile stretches across his face when he hears you groan. Success.

“You’re so annoying,” you murmur. You instinctively search for your phone on your nightstand to glance at how early your lover has you suffering, then slowly slide yourself out of bed to go blindly search for a bottle of water. 

Yunho screws his eyes shut and open a few times to regain his vision before flipping over and patiently awaiting your arrival. He gave himself a fairly decent buffer on the off chance you decide to stay awake and eat breakfast with him. At least, that was the plan until something happened that immediately changed his brain chemistry. Yunho’s eyes swivel towards your phone when it vibrates a couple of times on the nightstand. It really wouldn’t have been a problem had he not seen and recognized the name on the screen. Against his better judgment, he picks it up gently. He sees two older notifications from the prior night and the two new ones now piquing his interest. 

[Wooyoung: Don’t forget lunch tomorrow]

[Wooyoung: Usual place]

...

[Wooyoung: Good morning]

[Wooyoung: If you get on campus by 10 let's do breakfast instead, they’ll be there. lmk]

His eyes constrict to slits almost instantaneously. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me… 

He doesn’t care that it's petty, he swipes each of the message notifications and deletes them with a pool of satisfaction boiling in the deepest pit of his stomach. You were too busy with him last night to notice his other messages anyway. If he could delete those messages permanently, he would. Realistically, there was no way he could keep you from eventually meeting up again with Wooyoung, but maybe distracting you enough to be late could be worth being a bit late to his own obligations. He’s extra needy on purpose this morning, immediately seeking out your attention the moment you groggily slip back into bed after chugging water. Feeling his warm hands grope your butt just makes you groan in that special kind of annoyance that naturally comes with waking earlier than need-be. When his fingers travel to fiddle with the elastic of your panties, an indirect request of sorts, you muster enough energy to nudge him weakly.

“S’too early, Yu,” you pout without even opening your eyes and bury your cheek deeper into your pillow.

“I know, I know. I have to leave soon,” he acknowledges. Still, his hand dances its way into the fabric. He watches you shudder when his middle finger pushes against your clit experimentally. His brow lifts when you open your legs. He licks his lips eagerly before murmuring, “You don’t even have to do anything, I’ll take good care of you. Go ahead and rest, okay?”

The hum you let out, signaling him to do as he pleases, has him gently working your panties down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He spends all the time he can, all the way until the last few minutes before he has to leave, with his face buried between your tired thighs. Always a starved man when it comes to your greedy cunt, the one that he confirmed last night needs him oh so much, he french-kisses his way into a sore tongue and a stiff jaw. 

“Mhm, that’s it,” he talks directly to your heat, holding open your lips with his thumbs while watching the way slick, cum, and spit seep out to sully your sheets, “Gimme another one.”

Sleepy whines and garbled whimpers of his name have him rutting his hips against your bed. He would touch himself if he could, but his hands are too busy massaging your tense thighs in rhythm with his aching tongue lapping at your clit. The friction isn’t enough. He supposes his poor underwear will just have to suffer from precum leaking out his deprived cock, drenching the fabric the more he gets aroused. Each orgasm he’s able to pull from you drains your body of its energy more and more until you’re a meek puddle of fatigue splayed out on your mattress.

Yunho doesn’t remember what number orgasm his mouth finally parts from your core, but at some point, he finally reminds himself that he’s a man with responsibilities who still has to go home and change into his work clothes. He also needs to take care of this painful hard-on quickly when he gets somewhere private. Self-admittedly, this all was as rewarding to himself in fulfilling it as it was to you receiving. Seeing you absolutely spent and on the verge of (hopefully) deep sleep puts a shameless smile on his face. 

He’s still a gentleman above anything else, taking the extra time to clean your skin and the mess he’s made of your cunt with a wet cloth before lovingly redressing you in your undies. He doesn’t even know if you can hear him after a certain point, but he still tucks you back in and whispers sweet nothings that he’ll overthink about later when he’s in his office after remembering why he was here in the first place. He even apologizes for ruining your sheets, again. The timid, fleeting kiss he leaves on your temple is followed by him carelessly saying, “Love you.”

The moment those two words tumble from his lips his eyes grow wide, and he waits with bated breath to see if you are even the slightest bit awake to hear his blunder. When you show no signs of stirring, Yunho releases all air caged within his chest and decides it’s best to leave quickly before he can make a fool of himself any further. You don’t hear from him for the rest of the day.

-

“I see… so she does exist,” you mutter sarcastically.

At the end of the week, following your shared linguistics lecture, you and your best friend convene at a table deep in the back of the library. Yeosang had spent a good amount of his time in the last few days covertly asking questions about Wooyoung to random acquaintances in hopes of getting bits of useful information about him or his ex. He was finally able to give you her name and class year, but he came up short otherwise.

“I wasn’t able to get any of her socials, I didn’t want to seem like I was pursuing her. However, I do have another idea,” he says, hands motioning for you to hear him out after he sees your spirits drop, “I was told she’s in Hongjoong’s capstone class and–”

“Oh brother,” you groan and sink further into your seat. 

If Yeosang’s words days ago were anything to go by, Hongjoong was already convinced you were dating Wooyoung, so asking him for his ex-girlfriend’s number is surely just going to cause prying questions. You’re fully convinced that he probably won’t even consider giving it to you because he might think it’ll lead to drama. 

“I know. Just hear me out,” Yeosang leans forward and lowers his voice, “I honestly don’t think it would be hard to get him to tell you. If you can come up with a plausible reason why you would need to reach out, I think he wouldn’t hesitate too much.”

“Which would be?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about her other than that she’s in a sorority. You can figure something out from that, right?”

You couldn’t deny that this was definitely a useful piece of information. Yeosang watches you purse your lips while you toss around some of the logistics in your head before nodding with some renewed optimism.

“Which app do you think I should start on?”

“I’m sure the majority of our sororities have IG pages to promote their activities. That’s probably your best bet,” he recommends, “I can help you search in between finals prep–”

“You’ve done enough, I can definitely handle that part,” you interject with a reassuring smile, “Thank you for even getting this info. I appreciate it, Yeo.”

While things definitely looked more positive from this conversation, there was an odd feeling lingering in your stomach over the next few days. From his time at your home through the weekend, Yunho’s communication and presence were lacking a bit more than usual. While it made things easier for you to see Wooyoung when requested without fear, it didn’t make things any less disappointing. Knowing he’s still there for you even through all of this mess was the only thing keeping you afloat, so it’s troubling when that disappears out of nowhere. Nevertheless, the end of the semester was creeping up faster than even you realized, so it makes sense that his schedule is being affected. Moreover, his job is what you’re doing this all for anyway, right? Even without his presence, you’d silently root for him in the shadows if it meant that December ended with you both together. 

In the meantime, you push these feelings to the back of your mind and give yourself a break from being so worrisome. With this charade moving deeper into its timeline, it’s time-sensitive and imperative to ask for his ex’s phone number from Hongjoong in an effort to contact her. Wooyoung might be intent on keeping you from meeting her, but he’s severely underestimated the fire in your belly when it comes to getting what you want. You’ve played along with his shenanigans long enough.

Hongjoong’s brows furrow while he shoves a few of the fries in his mouth from a meal you asked to treat him to this particular Monday afternoon.

“I should’ve known you wanted to see me for ulterior motives,” he takes a swigger of his soda with pursed lips, “Buttering me up with free food for my connections, huh?”

“I didn’t remember until just now, I promise,” you lie, trying to remain composed. You’re not exactly the best at lying to your close friends and this time is no different. “If I knew about anyone else having her number I would’ve asked them. I wouldn’t lie to you, Joong.”

His eyes examine your body language keenly before scoffing, “I’m still caught up on how you didn’t tell me that your mystery man was Wooyoung all this time. That was a lie by omission.”

“I am not dating Wooyoung, I already told you this.”

“Then why do you suddenly want his ex’s number?”

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and offer him an easygoing smile that you had practiced a plethora of times before even leaving to meet him.

“I’m reaching out on behalf of a mutual friend about possibly being commissioned to make the graduation stoles for their sorority. That’s all.”

Yes, through hours of snooping and finally finding her Instagram, you discovered that she is a die-hard sorority girl for one of the smaller sororities on your campus. You had almost talked yourself into simply contacting her there, but as luck would have it, her messages were turned off for strangers that she doesn’t follow back. There was no doubt in your mind that she would never follow you back if you tried that route.

“You sure you’re not trying to stir the pot?” Hongjoong inquires playfully, eyeing you with an elvish grin. You groan in annoyance. “I’m all for a little mess sometimes, but I don’t like being the gateway.”

“Come on Joong, it’s nothing like that at all. I didn’t think you would be so difficult to ask about this… You’re supposed to be my rock—”

Your heart is threatening to break out of your chest when he holds up his free hand to quiet you with a roll of his eyes. Then, with his other hand, he finally scrolls through his phone to find said information.

“I’ve heard enough, please stop being so dramatic,” he sighs. His thumb stops swiping as soon as he sees what he’s looking for in his class’ group chat, and he hands you the phone reluctantly. “Under no circumstances do you tell her who gave this to you.”

“You know I love you the most, right? Even more than Yeosang!” You smile and he matches it sarcastically.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you liar. I love you too.”

While Yunho’s impromptu visit might have subdued his anxiety briefly, he knew it wouldn’t be a permanent fix. He spent some time away from you under the excuse of helping other people prepare more for the final paper deadline approaching, but that only made things worse. The longing he feels these days is stronger when he realizes you could be spending the valuable time he’s avoiding you by seeing Wooyoung instead. It’s embarrassing really, being so envious of someone younger than him. He shouldn’t be letting some university student get under his skin so easily, but there’s too much he’s given of himself to you to just be calm and collected about things. 

These things swirl about in his head while he’s seated alone at the bar’s counter, patiently waiting for his friends to finish playing Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who pays the tab tonight. It was fairly evident that it had been a rough start to the month for Yunho from his mood, so his best friends were intent on treating him tonight. Today and the next were the university-designated study days for finals. Seonghwa personally coaxed him out of hiding by stopping by his home and offering to drive. He knows Yunho has a hard time saying no when confronted directly. As karma would have it, it was looking to be an expensive night for Seonghwa unfortunately, marked by the heavy groan Yunho can hear come from behind him when the two finish.

When he finally joins Yunho at the counter, he searches through his wallet for his credit card while asking, “Which beer do you want?” 

“I need something stronger tonight,” Yunho states before flagging the bartender down himself.

Nowadays, he’s more favorable to something light and bubbly like beer because it’s easy on his body and the buzz is manageable over a longer period of time. He can’t remember the last time he drank pure liquor… It had to have been New Year’s Eve or some other holiday that’s usually burdened by alcohol. Yunho’s not remarkably sensitive to liquor and he’s by no means a lightweight, but tonight he’s truly done a number on himself. Three Long Island Iced Teas and a few extra shots of rum have him loose and on stage in front of many eyes doing what he does best: singing. Singing karaoke duets with Seonghwa always makes him feel like a college student again, bringing him back to the days of their music classes.

When the next hour comes around and several more shots enter his system, the second phase of his inebriation hits: heartache and depression. Distractions are wonderful until they’re not, and his throat hurts from doing too much falsetto. He keeps thinking about how he’s supposed to show you this side of himself eventually, serenading you like a cheesy romcom just to hear your pretty giggles telling him that he actually sounds like an angel, and those thoughts make him sad. On top of that, his social battery is depleted entirely and now all he can think about is going home. Distancing himself for the last several days is finally coming to an end, as you’re the only person he can think of to call since he doesn’t want to ruin his friends’ time by asking Seonghwa to take him back home. While booking an Uber ride would’ve been the smarter idea, Yunho’s too lovesick to pass up on a moment to hear your voice right now.

So, while Seonghwa is busy using the bathroom and San is distracted by an attractive woman who’s gone out of her way to challenge him to a game of pool, his hazy eyes manage to find your contact card in his favorites before calling you. You take a bit longer to answer than usual, but the moment he hears that familiarly sweet ‘hello there, handsome~’ come across his speaker, he physically melts into a heap on the counter. You can overhear the loud music coming through the speaker clear as day and figure he must be at the bar tonight with other teachers since they’re all essentially off tomorrow. Calling you of all people while with his friends is risky, but you understand why he’s being so reckless the moment he opens his mouth.

“I need to see you, please,” Yunho drawls, his free palm pressed to his forehead to ground himself, “Drank too much, wanna go home.”

“Where are you, Yu?”

Yunho’s heart feels like it’s ready to take flight at the way you ask this with no hesitation and how he can hear you already shuffling to grab clothes. Maybe your feelings are as strong as his afterall.

“At that dumb bar near campus. Hwa drove me,” he sighs, and you can practically hear the drunken pout stuck on his lips. “I’ll just send my location… Can you come, baby? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll come take you home. Sit tight, I’m leaving now.”

When you do finally arrive, Yunho lets his friends know that he ordered an Uber to go home, and successfully convinces Seonghwa not to walk with him outside even though his steps feel leadened. 

“Go back to karaoke,” he waves him off with an anxious smile, “I’ll let y’know when I get home.”

Parking so close to the entrance might’ve been a bit daring on your part, but you expected Yunho to have some trouble walking too far with too much distance. To offset the risk, you’re donning a black face mask with the hood of your jacket pulled over your head, and you figure that should conceal any particulars about you enough for any lurking eyes. Yunho’s surely more operational than he sounded over the phone, and even though his feet are slow on his way over, he slides in easily enough and even buckles himself in. From there, you focus on leaving the area before either of his friends gets curious enough to look outside.

The drive is comfortably silent. You keep the music low and drive a bit slower than usual to make sure he doesn’t feel too dizzy during the trip. Yes, you care for the man dearly, but the last thing you need is his vomit in your passenger seat. With his head resting idly on the cool glass of your window, he tries to relax his mind and settle the stuttering of his heart. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to be around you right now.

“Overdid it tonight, huh?” You ask him after a while to make sure he’s still conscious. 

“I don’t ever drink this much,” he replies with his eyes still closed, “M’so sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You didn’t bother me at all. Go ahead and relax, we’re almost home.”

His call was perfect timing actually, as you were just wrapping up exam prep for the day. Usually, you don’t take study days seriously, but with this being your last semester you figure giving your all includes taking advantage of the academic liberties that are offered by your university in exchange for not having to go to class. He was on your mind tonight as he always is, and even though the moment is unconventional, you appreciate him finally calling you at all. That’s all you can think about for the remainder of the drive to his home.

This is so embarrassing, he mopes internally. Yunho feels extremely vulnerable with every lug of his feet up his steps to his door. He’s not sure he ever wanted you to see him in such a state either—liquored up and liable to say anything lingering in his chest without inhibition—but it’s too late to worry about those things now. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yunho sighs upon entering his abode, shrugging off his coat and kicking his shoes off to a place he probably won’t remember tomorrow. 

His throat is dry and itching for something else, anything other than liquor. You know better than anyone that he needs to be drinking water right now and flushing his system as well. Closing his front door, you follow suit with your shoes and jacket.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” you assure him with a smile, “I’ll go get you some water.”

However, before you can slip past him, Yunho’s warm hands gently clasp around your cheeks. Your back hits the door as his sticky liquored lips squish against yours in an affectionate kiss. Much to his dismay, after only a few seconds of gratification you manage to pull back enough to talk.

“Water first, kissing later. Okay?” You chide with a giggle. 

Yunho makes a whiny noise in the back of his throat in place of a ‘no’ before stealing your lips once more. This time, his arms fall to wrap around your torso. There’s something desperate about the way his arms squeeze the air out of you as if he loosens them even in the slightest bit you might slip right from his grasp. That’s how he’s felt for some time recently like you’re slipping away right into someone else’s arms. Somewhere deep down in his intoxicated subconscious, he’s able to acknowledge the feeling of his heart slamming against his chest from pent-up anxiety of seeing you again, touching you again… and maybe lack of oxygen. Yeah, perhaps that’s what this intense feeling is building in his chest is, a blatant lack of oxygen. Breathing is just not something present in Yunho’s impaired mind. 

You, you, you, you, you!

All he wants to do is think about how he loves you more than you know.

He feels like he’s suffocating, but his brain won’t let his limbs move to breathe, lost in the thoughts and desperation of just needing to be connected to you. Just then, when he feels like he’s about to nearly pass out, you find the strength within yourself to push him from you hastily. The way you gasp for air lets him know that he was inadvertently suffocating you as well. His arms finally release their intense grip and a flurry of apologies tumble from his lips.

“M’so sorry,” he offers one last time, words running together, “I just missed you so much.”

Yunho’s head falls and rests in the crook of your neck while embarrassment floods his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, really. I missed you too,” you tell him, lungs settling while you card your fingers through his hair soothingly. He’s so fragile at this moment and seeing this side of him makes your heart melt. You could never be mad at something like a little stolen oxygen. “Let’s get you settled in first though, okay?”

“Please le’me stay like this for a couple minutes…”

He’s a bit dizzy, and your fingers lovingly massaging his scalp are making his heart feel ready to burst out of his chest. It doesn’t matter that he’s older than you, or that technically he’s an authoritative figure in your life. You’re always so soft with him, so attentive to his needs, and tender in your touch. You even came and picked him up while he was a mess, with no hesitation. For some reason, in Yunho’s inebriated mind, he’s so sure that a positive answer to this next question will finally solidify your loyalty and how you truly feel about him. 

“Can you stay with me tonight?”

There’s a moment of silence where you’re unusually still, and Yunho can practically hear your answer before you even open your mouth. Mentally, you’re battling with yourself because of premade morning plans with Wooyoung interfering with his request. Normally, you’d never decline to spend some extra time with him, but you’re not sure if blowing off Wooyoung last minute will have some consequences. Yunho’s the most important thing to you, but which choice proves that the most? 

“I have some important obligations in the morning, Yu,” you mumble a moment later, unable to outright say no. It’s hard, but you figure the best way to show him his importance to you is to put his career first, ahead of your feelings. 

In the crook of your neck you can feel him inhale, and for a second, he’s so still that you could’ve believed that he’d passed out. You’re just about to call his name when you feel him begin to tremble and snivel, and alarm bells begin blaring in your head. Lifting his head with your hands gently, you gaze up at him in panic.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You comfort him softly, thumbs on either side of his face wiping away fat tears that begin spilling down his rosy cheeks. “I’ll stay, I will. I’m so sorry baby.”

“I can’t do this anymore, ____.”

You’re no longer worried about the warm tears spilling onto your fingers as you are the immediate tightness in your chest at such simple words. Simple, but hurtful. The last time you heard that kind of sentence, it was followed by a breakup. The pang in your chest at the realization that this is what’s probably happening makes you feel sick. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t blame him if your behavior over the last few weeks ended up being the final straw for him, and if leaving him alone drunk was the cherry on top. Your diminished communication and sudden lack of availability with obligations you could not explain… and who knows what he’s heard about your increasing closeness with his TA, if anything. You ponder if maybe that’s why he has been acting differently recently, how perhaps the rumors had finally gotten back to him. It’s hard to meet his eyes while you try to prepare yourself for words you figured you hear eventually but still never built your confidence up enough for.

“Look at me, please,” he requests. It takes a moment, but you find it in yourself to do as asked. The way Yunho’s glazed-over eyes only hold dejection when you meet them lets you know something is seriously wrong. You’ve hurt him, you just know it. You’re not sure what to expect, but it surely isn’t him following up with, “I love you so much, it’s beginning to hurt, ____.”

Yunho didn’t expect this genuine divulgence that he had finally found within himself to reveal to be met with annoyance of all things. The way your brows crease and the corners of your mouth downturn throw him for a loop.

“I know you’re drunk but you really shouldn’t say a serious word like that so easily,” you chastise him in a soft voice. 

The gentleness of your tone doesn’t change the fact that you mean that statement wholeheartedly; he’s never used that word with you when sober, so why now? You don’t want to be made a fool of when these drunken words get taken back when he’s in his right mind tomorrow. Being drunk doesn’t excuse playing around with your feelings like that.

“I mean it. I do love you, so much. Not gonna pretend to be so casual about things anymore,” he retorts. While his voice still has that intoxicated twang in it, it’s now alarmingly firm.

That sudden tone and the way his face remains determined to make you understand him make your heart stutter. In the context of romance, ‘love’ is a word you haven’t heard from someone in a long time. To be fair, it’s a word you haven’t offered to anyone you’ve dated in a long time either. How long has it been since you met someone worthy of a word that powerful… You’re at a loss for words. The increasing tightness in your chest with the more you take in the situation won’t let up, and you wonder if he can feel your anxiety through the trembling of your hands still caressing his wet cheeks. 

Yunho doesn’t mind that you don’t say it back, he may be intoxicated but he still knows he’s coming on very strong right now. Instead, he adds, “You don’t have to say it back, but I can’t handle not knowing what I am to you anymore. I can’t tell how you really see me.”

The way your face immediately only offers confusion at that final statement is involuntary—his complete obliviousness to how you feel about him, about everything you’ve done till this point, is just baffling. Despite any impending consequences of being involved with your teacher, you’ve given this man so much of your time, your adoration, your body—what is there to question? When you finally take your hands back and place them on your temples, Yunho senses your frustration. He begins to feel bad when he realizes too much liquid courage may have made him go a bit too far.

“Yunho, I thought it was pretty obvious that I want to be with you. I’m just waiting for graduation to say it officially,” you explain. “I– We’ve been dating for 3 months, for Christ’s sake.”

You try to remind yourself that he’s intoxicated and that maybe you should treat this situation with a bit more grace. The next question he throws out completely shatters that mindset.

“Then why did you kiss him?”

The immediate mortification you feel at that string of words hits you like a sledgehammer, and the silence that consumes the room following this question is deafening. Yunho’s eyes hold your shameful stare before you finally become physically uncomfortable, and you avert your gaze sheepishly. Yes, you had considered he might catch you in the act sooner or later, but did it have to be the stupid unwanted kiss of all things? This is not something you had readied yourself enough to be confronted about. It’s something you wish you could’ve taken to the grave if possible.

The lack of an immediate reply to such a simple question has him pressing his palms to his eyes because he feels himself needing to cry again. He’d do anything to turn off those leaky faucets behind his eyes for good right now if he could. Crying over someone he had no business falling for in the first place is exasperating because he knew better. He’s sure he’d be able to compose himself more than this if he wasn’t so drunk as well, but it’s too late for those kinds of thoughts now. Everything is out in the open, all the way down to the intensity of his feelings for you, and there’s no turning back.

“It’s not what you think, Yunho,” you finally offer after taking some seconds to sort out your thoughts. The thing is, there is no other viable option at this point: it’s either tell him the truth or lie and break his heart further. You would never consider doing the latter. “I want to explain, but this isn’t the best time—”

“You can be honest, I promise I can handle it,” Yunho interjects. He runs his hands through his messy hair, trying to mellow himself out and prove that statement, but his insecurities start to get the best of him. Words begin spilling out of his mouth without much thought, “Is it because we can’t go out like normal couples? Am I not giving you enough attention? I know it’s tough right now but—”

“No, no, of course not! None of that matters to me in the slightest.” 

“What is it about him, then? If it’s something I can fix or do better, I will. I promise,” he tells you earnestly, but his face already looks defeated. He still can’t even say his name. Seeing him so distraught and broken like this over your actions is like a stiff punch in the gut. The last thing you ever wanted to do was make Yunho feel like he’s not enough.

Instead of answering, you ask him, “Do you trust me?” 

As much as he should be inclined to say no with everything he’s seen, or the way you won’t give him straight answers, he just can’t say no.

“Of course I do.”

“Then I’d really love for us to have this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” you insist, hands seeking out his for comfort and reassurance, “Please, Yunho.”

“And what happens if I wake up alone again?”

There it is. The hint of pessimism screaming at him in the back of his mind slipped through. He remembers the last time you left with no word and how it sent him irrationally spiraling. He just needs that final bit of reassurance.

“I’d never do that to you again, okay? I love you too much to hurt you like that. I promise.”

Yunho's left mute at this reply, damp lashes blinking repeatedly as his brain struggles to compute that you just said three very pivotal words he’s never heard from anyone else he’s ever dated. After not immediately reciprocating his sentiments earlier, he didn’t really ever expect them to come from your mouth anytime soon. 

“You…love–”

It happens way too fast, the wave of nausea that consumes him with how overwhelmed he begins to feel. Pulling his fingers away from yours, he clasps a clammy hand over his mouth and stumbles off toward his hallway bathroom in haste. This, of course, is not the ideal response you’d like to get back after fully confessing your feelings to a man. You try not to take it to heart and finally go to grab some water for him while he’s emptying his stomach in the bathroom.

The night comes to a close not too long later with you both burrowed in the blankets of Yunho’s bed, and he falls asleep against your chest faster than your brain will allow you to join. How lucky he is to have alcohol easily lull him to sleep after such a mess, you muse. You suppose this is as good of a time as ever to sort your thoughts and words for your explanation tomorrow. That and the possible consequences following you finally revealing the truth. While Yunho might seem mild-mannered and easygoing on a day-to-day basis, you are now aware of just how sensitive he is as a person inside. He feels with his whole heart, and he keeps certain things locked inside of him. You want him to feel comfortable enough to share those things with you as a partner. You want him to trust you wholly with his entire heart, but you suppose that begins with being entirely honest with him first. He’s more than enough, and you want him to believe that. Before you can let your mind wander too deep into the territory of that subject, your eyes finally feel unbearably heavy, and you fall asleep with your fingers curled around his own a little more securely than usual.

One thing Yunho prides himself in is not being prone to heavy hangovers, and this morning is no different. From his first couple years in college, he had learned that lots of water, sleeping in, and a good meal was the cheat code to his body’s ability to survive a night of binge drinking. This was partially thanks to his first roommate who was a Nutrition Major, because if he couldn’t discourage him from drinking he could at least aid him in recovering from it. Aside from you forcing him to drink a few water bottles before he could sleep, throwing up the prior night and purging most of it helped a lot as well, of course.

You’re not in bed when he stirs awake, but he can hear miscellaneous noise coming from another part of his home and smell the third element of his cheat code in progress. When he finally ambles out of his room and into his kitchen after chugging the bottle of water left on his nightstand, he finds you cooking something with what little groceries he has stocked in his fridge. The sound of him pulling out a chair at his table tears your attention away from the stove.

“Good morning,” you hum. He seems fully coherent, which makes things much easier on you. “How’s your stomach?”

Yunho rubs his bleary eyes with the back of his hand while yawning, “Much better… What time is it?”

“Around eleven, I think.”

“I thought you had something to do?”

“I canceled,” you tell him, “You’re more important.”

Earlier, while Yunho was still passed out, you found some time to slip away and call Wooyoung to raincheck. You’re not entirely sure if he believed the performance you put on about coming down with something last minute, but it didn’t matter. The least he can do is give you a day off of this charade. You move the food you’ve been working on off of the stove’s eye and turn off the heat before snatching up his mug of coffee and joining him at the table. 

You look different this morning, the way your eyes lack any of their usual whimsy or humor, and how you sit yourself to his left with body language more reserved than normal. Your stress is palpable, and that doesn’t help settle the sad feeling beginning to manifest in his stomach when he realizes the conversation that’s about to begin. Nonetheless, he decides to prepare himself for the worst.

“I promised you an explanation,” you sigh, “So let’s talk.”

Messily relaying this story to Yeosang first helped you a lot with finding the confidence to make things more concise if a moment like this were ever to happen. You were able to tell Yunho the full extent of Wooyoung’s actions without getting as emotional as the last time. Even though you were trying to be truthful, you ultimately decided not to tell him about trying to connect with Wooyoung’s ex behind the scenes, as you didn’t want to give him any false hope if things happened to fall through. When you finish spilling anything left lingering in your guts about the entire situation, there’s an unbearable silence that settles over the whole room. Yunho’s eyes are trained on his coffee, finger circling the rim of his mug while he lets his mind run wild. The guilty feeling that washes over you feels heavier and heavier with every passing second of him not replying.

“I’m really sorry,” you finally break the silence with a final apology. “It’s my fault for being so pushy in your office that day. This wouldn’t have happened if I had just taken no for an answer.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, ____,” Yunho tails your sentence quickly. The tension in your chest finally dissolves when he speaks, and hearing his caring voice is really all you can ask for right now. He reaches a gentle hand over the table to cover yours for some well-needed comfort, before offering you a soft, sober smile, “I don’t want you beating yourself up for decisions we made together. I’m a grown man who makes my own choices, don’t forget that.”

When Yunho dares to ask how far Wooyoung has made you go for him physically, you assure him the worst has only been that kiss. 

“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t fucking suck,” he groans, brows furrowing at the thought of being so stuck between a rock and a hard place, “I would remove him from class if I could. Seeing his face is going to piss me off even more than before.”

“I understand. The semester ends in a couple of weeks though… I know it might be a lot to ask for from you to deal with, but it won’t be too much longer,” you offer resignedly, though it’s not much of a consolation. Optimism is the only thing you have worth giving him at this point. You’re only optimistic yourself while banking on his ex wanting to meet with you. When he goes from frustratedly rubbing his eyes to running a hand through his hair, you feel the need to add, “I’d understand if you don’t want to deal with that though.” Yunho turns to you, his expression one of sheer incredulity.

“You really believe I would willingly let someone like him end our relationship?” The teasing lilt in his voice is refreshing to hear, even if it is a serious question underneath. He reaches his hand over and holds your chin while assuring you, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, okay?”

“That sounds more like a threat than a promise,” you chuckle.

“Maybe he should take it that way, then.”

For the remainder of the week, Yunho tries to bear through the new knowledge that Wooyoung is somewhere on campus turning you into a puppet for his own gain. It hits harder on the days when he texts you in an effort to check in on things but is met with radio silence. He was made aware that Wooyoung preferred you off of your phone when with him, but goddamn was it annoying. For your sake, he tries to keep these kinds of grievances to himself. He knows he needs to be supportive if he can help it. During this time frame, you also secretly began your effort to contact Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend. Getting left on read with your first message was to be expected. It took her a full day before she entertained you by replying back, even if it was a little snippy. Regardless, her replying at all was a step in the right direction. She opened the door and you planned to slip your way in as best you could. Between Yeosang asking for updates, his ex contacting you sporadically throughout the days, and Yunho checking in occasionally to make sure his assistant isn’t causing you problems that he’s more than happy to fix, you decide it’s best to keep your phone face down and away from Wooyoung when you’re together this week. Even if you want to keep up with your friends to pass the time, it’s just too risky.

“You haven’t told him anything, correct?” 

Wooyoung asks this out of the blue when you both convene for breakfast on Friday. You find it funny how neither of them can say each other’s name, but you suppose Wooyoung is a bit more cautious these days to keep you from getting an attitude. You’re much too tired to even entertain such a question, but you don’t want to cause any suspicion by choosing not to answer.

You yawn after muttering, “No, why?”

“He looks at me differently these days,” he muses, pushing his fork into the plush of his lips, “It’s giving me bad vibes.”

“He has a lot on his plate with finals that you can’t help him with. I’m sure the stress is overwhelming. Cut him some slack.”

Picturing Yunho trying to give Wooyoung the evil eye when they cross paths everyday has you turning your head away, suppressing a smile to keep from laughing at the end of your sentence.

“You know better than I do,” he acknowledges with a nod and leaves the conversation at that.

Yunho begins losing a bit more of his resolve that same day when he catches Wooyoung rushing to meet you out the door after class, calling out your name right in front of his face. He doesn’t particularly care for the carefree tone of his voice, and he feels like doing something so openly is too cocky for his liking. His fingernails rake at the material of his slacks irritably from behind his podium as he opens his mouth.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho calls out before he can consult his better judgment. 

When his assistant spins to face him, Yunho finds himself at a loss for words. He didn’t really think this part through. His eyes flicker to you, who’s waiting patiently by the door for your puppetmaster to join you, then back to Wooyoung. That’s when he makes the executive decision to steal him away from you for the next hour or so. He deserves that satisfaction at least. 

“I wanted to discuss some things about my schedule regarding final papers next week, and then submitting final grades,” Yunho exhales while clasping his hands together. 

He throws in a free and easy smile to twist the knife because his assistant loses all joy in his face at his words. The brief glance you exchange with your teacher as Wooyoung reluctantly ambles back to his station holds a world of emotions, conveying everything words cannot. The gratification he receives from simply seeing you nod and smile while departing alone for the day gives him everything he needs to complete his day with renewed composure.

Mondays generally suck for Yunho, but this final one of the semester is absolutely atrocious.

Today, he’s had the worst technical difficulties in both of his morning lectures with no valuable help from the University’s IT department. One of his biggest pet peeves is not being taken seriously when he’s working, especially as a younger teacher, and it seems that they put his issues on the back burner all morning since he’s not one of the elderly professors. Regardless, he made things work even through the giggles of some students. It’s his final class before exam week begins, the least he can do is end his spiel of encouragement towards the final paper deadline on a good note.

If things had ended there, then he would’ve had a decent rest of his day. Spilling hot coffee all over his white button-up that he rarely ever even wears puts a permanent grimace on his face for the remainder of the morning. He tries his best to dab it out with water when he gets a free moment during his lunch break, but he’s one hundred percent sure he made the liquid spread much worse. Coupled with him not even being able to put his tie back on properly in an attempt to fashion it in a way that hides the stain, he’s exactly three seconds away from deciding to go home for the rest of the day. 

He decides to work through lunch in his office instead so he can end the day early once he’s finished. At least this way nobody could see how much of a mess he is today. But, after a while of Yunho holing up in his office and hiding from the rest of the world as long as he can manage, his phone vibrates with an unexpected call from San. He presses the answer option reluctantly and puts it on speaker.

Before he can even say hello, San’s voice is already excitedly asking, “You on lunch?”

“Something like that,” he chuckles weakly, and San can hear the clicks of his mouse in the background. When he hears San ‘tsk!’ in disapproval of him working, he sighs, “You know me, work’s never done. Shouldn’t you be teaching a class right now?”

“Bathroom breaks are important for everybody.”

“And you decided to call me during yours why?”

“Listen, I know you told me not to make any unannounced visits to your classroom but,” San pauses to laugh at the foolishness of what he’s about to say. “But, it seems that your student has done this to me today instead. I suppose that means today is fair game, right?”

Yunho’s hands pause their movements as he filters through his mind what exactly his friend might be referring to. When he finally recalls that line from their conversation on the day his friends briefly met you, his face pales. San adds that you seem to be dressed oh-so-pretty today and Yunho’s brows crease, not only in irritation at him talking so liberally about you but in confusion. Yunho’s prolonged silence at what should be insignificant information is duly noted in San’s mind. 

Truth be told, San did not call Yunho just for shits and giggles. A few days ago, during a shared lunch break, Seonghwa had come to him secretly about Yunho’s recent behaviors:

“You can’t be serious Seonghwa,” San laughs wholeheartedly at his friend’s implications. “Yunho is a bit desperate these days, but he’s not that desperate.” 

“You can’t say I’m being delusional.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that it probably isn’t what it seems like.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes so far back that it almost hurts, “Enlighten me on why he’s being so secretive when I ask then.”

“You asked him about her directly?”

“Not exactly… but I asked him about dating someone,” Seonghwa leans back in his chair and sighs, “He told me nothing. Barely even got a peep about where he met the woman. A Tinder match has got him so quiet? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“And you think it’s his student because of what exactly?”

“I didn’t say anything at the time but I saw a glimpse of his phone a month or so ago,” Seonghwa snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the details, “That night we went to that fancy lounge uptown, remember?”

“And?”

“When he was using the bathroom, he left his phone face up on the couch. I didn’t mean to pay too much attention to it, but it lit up with a text and I recognized the name.”

San pushes the food around in his Tupperware with pursed lips while he tries to rationalize this revelation. Seonghwa does have a point… Why in the world would you have been texting him at 10 PM? San’s a pretty laid-back teacher himself, but none of his students have his personal number. All teachers do things differently though, he knows this. Still…

San lowers his voice to ask, “What did the message say?”

“I didn’t see that part,” his friend continues, the disappointment in his voice making San snicker, “He came back too quickly. I mentioned it in passing though, and he said they text occasionally about her schoolwork.”

Seonghwa uses his fingers to put air quotations around that last word; as if he’d ever believe a student is texting their teacher close to midnight about “schoolwork”. He’s slightly offended that Yunho thinks he’s that much of a fool.

“That’s not that implausible—”

“I’m calling bullshit. She’s at the very least got a crush on him and he’s playing into it,” Seonghwa states plainly. 

San resumes eating his lukewarm leftovers, humming, “I really don’t think he would risk getting fired over hooking up with his student. We barely even see him flirt with people outside of work… Anything beyond that just isn’t him. You know this.”

The conversation didn’t last much longer than that, and San had effectively convinced Seonghwa to simply mind his business at the time. He ponders for a second if he should have a serious talk with Yunho about the repercussions that could come to him if Seonghwa’s speculations were true, as he obviously doesn’t want to see one of his best friends lose their job. San may joke around a lot about these kinds of things, and he’s overly flirtatious with a numerous amount of people that may or may not include younger women, but he knows he’d never cross the line and put his job in jeopardy like that. 

It’s always been complicated. Yunho is an exceptionally loyal person and a hopeless romantic, but very few people get to see that side of him. San has seen plenty of women attempt to pursue him with both good and bad intentions, and Yunho has difficulty deciphering sometimes. That being said, when his friend is head over heels for someone, there is nothing he won’t do. There have been plenty of times when Yunho has done some stupid things because of stupid impulses when it comes to women he falls hard for. Don’t get him started about when he had to talk him out of getting a tattoo just because a girl he fell for told him she preferred “bad boys” when turning him down. He feels with all of his heart, and that’s honestly something San admires about his friend. 

He supposes while he has him on the phone, he should push the boundaries to see how he replies. 

“She’s been outside of my class for nearly half an hour,” San continues in a nonchalant voice, stoking the fire, “I was wondering if I should invite her to join in on the lecture, maybe chat—”

Unfortunately for San, Yunho’s already having a bad enough day, and he doesn’t need his friend joking about trying to pick up his woman. 

“Do not bother her,” Yunho interrupts him in a voice with a steely edge that makes the instruction come out slightly more bitter than he intends it to. He immediately regrets letting that kind of emotion slip through and becomes bashful, quickly sputtering a playful jab at his friend instead, “Getting a girl’s attention without buying her a drink first? That would be an amazing feat from you anyway.”

“Getting a girl’s attention at all recently would be an amazing feat for you too,” San quips back with a laugh, but he makes a mental note of this peculiar reaction. It surely doesn’t help extinguish Seonghwa’s conspiracies planted in his head. “Anyway, my class ends in half an hour, so I’m sure she’s just waiting for a friend to come out.”

At that suggestion, a thought crosses Yunho’s mind that makes his stomach churn. 

“San, tell me something. Do you have a student named Wooyoung Jung in your class?”

“I do indeed, how did you know?”

I’ve got to be losing my mind… 

That’s the only explanation Yunho can come up with as to why he’s speed-walking from his building in the middle of campus to the one that hosts San’s class a handful of minutes away. It’s brisk out, evident by the sharp chill of early December running down his back with every quick stride, but it’s a perfect excuse for why his cheeks are so red. He’s not flustered, he’s just cold… of course.

The moment he spots you rocking back and forth on your feet in front of San’s lecture hall, patiently thumbing away at your phone, his chest aches. You’re dolled up today just like San alluded to, wearing a pretty dress that he’s never even seen you in before. Coupled with some makeup and your hair done charmingly, he gets flashbacks to when you both went on your very first dinner together. This doesn’t fare well with Yunho’s mood.

The tap he does on your shoulder startles you enough to elicit a squeal, and that shock doesn’t change even when you realize it’s Yunho beckoning for your attention. 

“I– What are you doing here?”

When Yunho’s brows furrow in offense at your question, you wince. You don’t mean to sound like the last thing you want to do is see him right now, but this is not the best time for him to be showing himself. The last thing you need is for him and Wooyoung to cross paths outside of the classroom with you directly in the middle. Nevertheless, you don’t even get an answer to that query. The moment your arm is snatched and your feet drag while your captor hauls you away from your waiting spot, you internally scold yourself about how you’re probably the easiest kidnapping victim ever. To be fair, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.

“Wait, I have a date with Wooyoung–” 

“I do not care,” he snaps back.

He doesn’t bother responding to any more of your attempts of chiding him, eyes too busy following the signs that guide him to where the nearest restroom is. When he stumbles upon an unoccupied handicapped restroom, he sighs in relief and pulls you in before closing and locking the door. 

“What is wrong with you?” You sputter in a dumbfounded, hushed voice. 

Yunho’s face is splotchy, and he’s visibly agitated while his eyes dodge between your outfit and your face, “Why do you look like that?”

What a silly question, truly. 

In his mind, the problem lies within who you’re looking so beautiful for, and not the fact that you look beautiful at all. Yunho rarely gets to see you as it is, but this prick’s got you dressing up for him? Surely this isn’t necessary, because you’re beautiful enough to make anyone jealous as you already are. In his eyes, anyway.

“I just told you I have a date and I needed to look nicer,” you argue. Before he can muster up another pointless question, you fold your arms across your chest, “Right now is really not the time to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m annoyed.”

“Then why are we here, Yunho?” His eyes finally shy away from yours when you motion to your surroundings. He hates it when you use his first name like this because he knows that often accompanies the tone of displeasure. The last thing he wants to do is upset you. You sigh, “Can’t you hold out just a little longer?”

“Dressing up so pretty for him doesn’t help me feel any better.”

“Making a scene about it doesn’t necessarily help anything either, does it?”

You’d snicker at the shameful silence that follows that statement if the situation wasn’t so genuinely distressing to him. He’s genuinely upset, you get it. You’d never admit it out loud, but a piece of you likes seeing him like this: wound-up, needy, and protective. The roles were reversed not too long ago about Wooyoung particularly, so seeing him show that same yearning and agitation when the tables are turned, even if it’s in terrible circumstances, makes you feel validated. Still, you do what you can to ease his mind for now.

“You’re too handsome to be this envious, love,” you murmur sweet nothings. He remains silent, letting those words swirl around in his head while you reach out to fiddle with the kink in his tie until it’s fixed. His lip juts out when you chuckle at the stain sullying his shirt underneath. Your eyes gaze up at his fondly before you add, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m yours and yours only before you start believing it?” 

Yunho soaks in every syllable of that soothing voice of yours while his eyes settle on your glossy lips when they talk. Anything not to look at those eyes that could surely make him get on his knees and apologize profusely for causing a scene. He’s so predictable sometimes, you muse. You’re sure a kiss or two to help settle his jealousy before you have to leave won’t hurt anyway.

Just as you predicted, he can’t help himself, and the feeling of his impatient hands grabbing at your waist and his lips slotting over yours ignites this fire inside the pit of your stomach. Your butt hits against the counter of the bathroom sink and your hands try to find purchase on his blazer.

“Reminders never hurt, right?” he breaks briefly to mumble before slipping his tongue into your mouth. You indulge him, falling victim to that sinful mouth of his as you always do.

And, sure, maybe kissing you should be enough to quell such intense feelings inside of him, but it’s just not. The thought that Wooyoung also has the ability to kiss you whenever he wants to enhance whatever convoluted plan he has going on makes it almost insignificant. Instead, his hands haphazardly drift under the hem of your dress, because he’s the only one allowed to touch you like this. He hopes so, anyway. 

His warm fingers drag up the soft skin of your inner thighs with no hesitation, and your hands grapple onto his blazer tightly when he reaches the apex to stop briefly at your clothed cunt. Yunho swallows the surprised yelp you let out into his mouth when he begins to rub up and down, pressing on your clit through the cotton and feeling how damp you already are just from kissing him. God, it never gets old, the way he turns you on so easily. You shudder when he tugs your panties to the side and drags his lips in wet kisses from your lips to your ear.

“I’m gonna be late, Yu…” you complain, voice airy and whiny when his thumb rubs at your clit.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs while kissing the shell of your ear, “I’m just really pissed off today. You understand, right, angel?”

He punctuates that statement by finally slipping two fingers into your sopping cunt.

Yunho’s a mess. 

He stares at himself in the mirror behind you while his fingers busy themselves with pushing in and out of your cunt. How did he get to such a point, experiencing so many intense emotions over someone he never should’ve fallen in love with in good conscience? How did he end up in this bathroom with his fingers evoking such sloppy noises from between your legs? He stares at how flushed he is in the cheeks with your glittery lipgloss smeared all over his lips and beyond. This is beyond silly…

Yunho swears he’s not actually such a jealous person, he swears, but the current circumstances are doing a number on his mental health. He deliberately curls his fingers up against that plushy spot he loves to find within you and watches tremors travel through your back. Aside from some tiny gasps and whimpers that are barely audible unless you’re close enough to hear them, you’ve learned your lesson on being quiet in these situations, and you keep your lips pressed together tightly. The way your knees are buckling and your hands are clutching onto him for dear life—yes, this is just what he needs. He’s never felt such an intense need to see someone cum in his life.

“Do you want more?” Yunho suddenly breathes against your ear, pressing a loving kiss on your warm skin before pulling back to look you in the eyes, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, even if you just want me to stop.”

As God is his witness, he means every word. He’ll get down on his knees and suck an orgasm from you if you want him to. He’ll hold you against the wall and fuck any word other than his name out of your head if you want him to. To be honest, deep down he just wants to see if you’d blow off your date with this nuisance—even for just a few minutes—to let him satisfy you. Those shiny eyes of yours innocently blinking at his inquiry could make him melt on the spot. You don’t know how much time has passed since you got dragged in here, or how much time there is left of Wooyoung’s class, but your hands move faster than your brain when considering these things as a problem. 

His fingers slip out of your core and into his mouth the moment your hands drop to fumble with his belt hurriedly. There are no words spoken, and the only sounds filling the quiet air of the bathroom are Yunho’s belt buckle coming undone and clattering against the floor tiles once his pants are shoved down. He pushes down his underwear and quickly fists his cock while you turn to bend over the sink. It doesn’t take much to get him hard because seeing you so wet and ready for him to stretch you out with no care for anything else turns him on to the highest degree. 

After tugging your panties down what he deems is enough, he doesn’t even bother teasing and prods at your hole so eagerly that it’s almost embarrassing. The soft gasp you both share when Yunho’s tip fully slips into your cunt by accident makes your stomach manifest butterflies. 

Your hands grip the edges of the counter while he continues pushing forward, mouth agape and brows drawn together while watching the way the tight skin stretches around him and sucks him in greedily. When you finally feel his thighs meet yours, you release a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding heavy in your lungs. 

“You’re so wet, slipped in so easily,” he huffs, giving you an experimental thrust to see all your arousal coat his cock again before he bunches your dress around your waist in his hands. “Gonna be good for me and stay quiet, right?”

“I should ask you the same,” you whisper, giving him a coy gaze through the mirror. 

The smirk tugging at his lips in place of laughing is followed by a knowing nod, and you close your eyes when he finally begins moving his hips. Yunho has no intention of purposefully rushing things to get you back to your obligations any quicker than him bringing you here. Even so, he isn’t going slow or taking his time like he treated you the last time you had sex. No, this is an exceptionally needy fuck today, with hasty, desperate thrusts that make his eyes flutter closed and chest feel heavy with noises of arousal just begging to creep out. He just can’t help himself; Yunho swears your cunt was perfectly crafted just for him. 

When he feels your knees buckle after one particular angled thrust, he groans lowly, “Right there, angel?” 

With a nod of your head, Yunho's hands move from your dress to your hips, fingertips digging deep into the plush skin while he reciprocates that previous thrust over and over and over until you’re gripping the sink spout to maintain some of your sanity. 

“I need more Yu, please,” you beg him in a whisper, cock-drunk eyes meeting his own in the mirror, “More, more—please—harder.”

You want nothing more than for him to just grab a fist full of your hair and make a mess of your sopping cunt—to ruin your makeup and send you back out to Wooyoung looking like a mess. You crave that pure and raw act of Yunho showing him who you truly belong to. Knowing your lover, he wouldn’t decline the opportunity to assert his dominance in this situation, but you have enough self-control to keep those desires to yourself. He’s giving you enough to handle anyway, firmly pressing your stomach to this counter with strong hands and settling on a brutal pace to satisfy your request. The sounds of skin slapping skin echo amongst desperate pants and gasps from you both every time he bottoms out just as fast as he pulls back.

The steamy air of the bathroom is interrupted when your phone begins ringing on the counter. You know it’s probably Wooyoung finally out of class and wondering where you are. You can’t blame him, as you had explicitly told him you’d be waiting for him outside the classroom. 

Even so, you can’t seem to care enough to remove your focus from Yunho, your unwavering eyes still locked on his own through the mirror as he continues snapping his hips into you quickly. Yunho would be lying if he said this attention didn’t go straight to his head. He knows you shouldn’t ever have to prove it, but the reassurance he feels from seeing your devotion to him in real time makes his chest tight with adoration. The way nobody else matters to you right now, and how he’s the center of your attention, chips away at every inch of jealousy he was feeling earlier. 

Yunho’s hands abruptly pull you off the sink by your arms and up against him. This new position with your back arched and you on your toes has you seeing constellations, and you know you probably aren’t going to last much longer with the way he’s also heaving just behind your ear. When one hand of his moves down to rub sticky circles on your clit, you presume he’s close as well. Yunho feels like he’s going crazy, mind spinning with thoughts of if you keep squeezing him like this, he might just accidentally cum—

“Inside,” you whimper, “Please.”

He finds himself groaning against your skin, teasing you by breathing, “Going on a date with another man’s cum in you’s kinda rude, no?”

“Don’t care, please, please.”

As usual, how can he say no when you beg so cutely? He did say he’d do whatever you want, after all. Your eyes flutter closed and you focus on the final sounds of Yunho’s soft grunts and your shaky exhales mingling in the air while he ruts up into you quickly. It always seems like he knows your body better than you know yourself these days because his hand covers your mouth before he gives the last few sharp thrusts that precede him finally spilling into you, and he successfully stifles the desperate moan you would’ve let fly out once you fall apart in his arms. 

“Quiet– Oh fuck, that’s it,” Yunho hisses, letting out a soft moan at the way you struggle to stand while your legs tremble and your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. He’s dangerously too addicted to this feeling already; you should’ve never introduced something so heavenly to him. He can’t stop his hips from beginning to buck again in messy strokes, intent on fucking you through your orgasm even if he’s sensitive himself. Watching the way you bite down on your lip to keep quiet as told, he whispers well-deserved praises in between kissing your skin, “Taking it so well, sweet girl. You really were made for me. Shhh, I’ve got you.”

Yunho only stops himself when your body becomes pliant in his arms, fully surrendering to fatigue and overstimulation. He waits patiently until you can put your weight back onto your feet before finally releasing his grip. When he finally pulls himself out, he’s not quick enough to step away, and his seed spills from you onto his pants still pooled around his ankles. The handful of curses spilling from his mouth at his fuck-up has you shushing him in between breathless laughs. 

“I’m an idiot,” he groans.

“Yes, and that’s exactly what you get for dragging me in here.”

Yunho spends a handful of minutes using wet napkins to make his pants look a little more presentable while you do the same with the mess you’ve both made soiling the insides of your thighs. He doesn’t even try to hide the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips while inconspicuously watching you try your best to get his cum to stop seeping out of your core. There’s just not enough to properly clean up, and he finds this just as gratifying as getting you here in the first place. To be fair, you were the one who told him that you didn’t care. On that note, he goes to grab your discarded phone and ushers it your way eagerly. 

“You should call your date and let him know you’ll be wherever very soon,” he insists, “I’m sure he’s waiting patiently.”

“Rushing me out after throwing such a fit is crazy,” you mutter while pulling your panties back up. You’re sure he’s just obsessed with the thought of his cum making a cameo on your date.

“A man can’t change his mind?”

As you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, quickly dabbing at your neck with napkins to clean any smeared lip gloss, Yunho leans against the bathroom wall and tries to decide how long he should wait in the bathroom before leaving after you. Between watching the way you apply a fresh coat to your lips and entering post-nut clarity, he’s a bit too scatterbrained to think about this critically, but he’s brought back to the moment when you finally spin around with a sigh.

“Do I look okay?”

There’s a bit of anxiety hidden in that question, evoked by the fear of looking disheveled or being perfumed with the smell of sex, but those thoughts are quickly extinguished when he gives you those eyes that look as though he’s falling in love with you all over again. Maybe it’s that special afterglow that sex grants, but to him, in this moment you look even better than when you enter this bathroom with him. You’re exceptionally beautiful at all times, and he doesn’t even have to answer that question for you to know his thoughts. After planting a quick peck of farewell on his cheek, Yunho stays hidden away against the wall out of view of the door so you can finally leave and call Wooyoung. He’ll hold off on teasing you about the little limp in your walk until you see each other again in private.

The following day, you find yourself seated alone at the familiar table tucked away in the back of the library, the very spot where you and Yeosang often retreated for private discussions. Wooyoung’s ex was supposed to be seated in front of you 10 minutes ago. I’m giving her 5 more minutes before I leave. She was the one who finally asked you to meet with her after a bit of cordial back and forth, so being late to her own plans didn’t necessarily make you as sympathetic to her situation as before. You suppose you should give her a little more grace, considering this is your only opportunity to try and put an end to the madness of Wooyoung’s chasing. Still, you’re a busy woman who needs to prepare for your first exam tomorrow.

“____?” 

A soft voice emerges from behind you that has you craning your head to seek out its owner.

“Hello,” you greet her, and your eyes follow her as she ambles around the table to set down her bag to settle in across from you. “Didn’t know if you were still going to show up.”

“I apologize for being late,” she sighs, embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. With her first question, she wastes no time delving into the purpose of your meeting, “So, how long have you and Woo been dating?”

Due to her Instagram page being locked down, you hadn’t seen very many pictures of her before this meeting. You were only able to get glimpses of her in a scarce amount of posts on her sorority’s page that included all sisters. In person, she’s exceptionally beautiful, and you expected nothing less of someone being so heavily pursued. Your blatant staring and lack of reply to her question have her glancing at you quizzically.

It’s a bit surreal at first, but it finally sinks in that sitting in front of you is the very person of Wooyoung’s desires. An involuntary giggle escapes you at how silly this situation is, as you were never really prepared to be confronted by the very girl Wooyoung kept you from knowing this whole time. She was merely a faceless hindrance to your life, to the point of even doubting her existence at one point. Your reaction doesn’t fare well with her, and she’s noticeably bothered at being laughed at. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you offer a genuine apology before leaning onto the table on your elbows and admitting truthfully, “Not too long at all, just about a month.” 

Still, way too long, you’d like to add. Even though she visibly relaxes at this revelation, you can see a conflicting look flicker behind her eyes.

“I still don’t really understand why you contacted me,” she sighs, but the look in her eyes just doesn’t correspond. 

You’re sure she knows exactly why you reached out and exactly what you want to say; surely she already knows she is all Wooyoung wants. During this conversation, you had planned to tell a series of half-truths. She didn’t need to know how you got wrapped up in this mess, but you figured it’d be helpful to admit that Wooyoung only thinks of her when he’s with you. Maybe you’d give her some empathetic spiel about how you “think” he hasn’t moved on from his feelings for her, and make it a bit emotional on your end. Despite those words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ready to give your best performance, you realize that she looks as if she wants to do your job for you. So, you play into it and let her take the wheel.

“You look like you want to ask me something,” you observe, “I’m all ears.”

Sitting up a bit more erect in her chair, she meets your eyes head-on.

“I’d like to ask you if…” But, her voice falters before she can get to the tail of her request. 

You wonder if it’s a pride thing that’s keeping her from being honest with herself. She wants him back, you’re sure of it, but she’s the one who broke things off initially. Maybe she’s embarrassed, you muse. You suppose you could gently guide the conversation, posing the question she hesitates to voice herself.

“Do you want me to break up with him?” You ask forthrightly.

“I do,” she finally confesses, “I was hesitant about rekindling our relationship, but you reaching out to me made me feel more confident that I should ask. I’m so sorry.”

Feigning indecision is easy, and pretending to fight your feelings about the situation is the cherry on top. It wouldn’t be believable if you gave up too easily, so the uncomfortable silence is more than necessary. The false front is believable enough because she cuts into the tense silence before you can even respond.

“I made a mistake and I would just like a second chance with him. I know I’m asking for a lot from you, and I want him to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t still love him anymore,” she rambles on, trying her best to be authentic, “We were together for quite some time and—”

“I’m aware,” you finally interject. When she downcasts her eyes, you perch your head in your palm and sigh, “Wooyoung is still in love with you as well. I don’t want to be with someone who’s still caught up on someone else anymore. You understand?”

The way her eyes light up at this revelation makes yours soften. Even though Wooyoung’s actions may be maddening to you, you can tell he genuinely brings her joy. They both truly love each other.

“I don’t know how to go about this,” she admits after a moment of thought.

"Just tell him you want him back. He'll probably end things with me right away," you say bluntly. You feel it's best to give her a gentle nudge to act sooner rather than later, though. So, you add, "I think he’s been planning a trip for us after finals, but I'm sure he'd rather go with you. Please, do it soon."

Underscoring the word please to her might come across as begging, but at this point, you are beyond caring. Going your separate ways after closing this conversation feels like a hefty weight lifted off of your shoulders. In the end, you’ve done what needed to be done in terms of setting the stage; now it was time for her return to the spotlight as the lead. 

The next morning, you awaken to a text from Wooyoung finally breaking your arrangement off. He doesn’t go into any specifics of what happened, but at any rate, you don’t need or care to know. As far as you’re concerned, he’s fully evaporated from your life the moment you delete his text thread. You find that your coffee and breakfast taste better than normal with one less weight of stress hanging over your head. Exchanging many [Good luck!] texts with Yunho has him subsequently requesting to meet with you after today’s exam. That is how you ended up dawdling around your favorite aisle in the campus bookstore just before lunch. You had decided to turn in your textbook rentals early and put all of your faith in your notes for these next few days. The only other thing really lingering over your head was to finally turn in your final paper for Yunho’s class before midnight.

You start to get a bit impatient when Yunho fails to show up after your proposed meeting time, and you wonder if maybe he’s in the wrong spot. With calculated steps, you begin to roam the nearby shelves, reluctant to call out his name too many times in such a quiet place. There are only but so many aisles he could be in within this store anyway. After a couple of minutes peeking into different empty aisles, you finally decide he’s simply just late. You venture back to your original aisle and decide to browse in the meantime; this is the last time you’d ever be stepping foot in this place, so it couldn’t hurt to chew over a last-minute purchase. No matter how frequently this aisle has seen your presence in the last few years, you never fail to find something new that piques your interest. Unfortunately, today’s mark is a small book with the prettiest spine, and it sits just out of your reach on the top shelf. Being unobtainable only makes your curiosity even more inevitable.

Stretching every muscle in your body as far as it’ll give to try and at least graze the spine fails; there’s just no use, and it seems appealing to simply give up. The moment you finally fall back on the heels of your feet, you can feel the sturdiness of a chest slyly pressing against your back while reaching for that very same book just out of your reach. 

“You should really be more aware of your surroundings,” Yunho’s smooth voice hums next to your ear after feeling you freeze up underneath his presence. He plucks the book from the shelf with ease and sighs. You can feel his breath fan out on your neck and even smell the mint on his breath when he adds a playful jab, “Short stuff.”

“And you should really be more punctual,” you quip back, trying your best to ignore his proximity. 

He’s dressed casually today, charmingly sporting a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater since classes are officially over. If you didn’t already know who he was, a simple glance would have you thinking he was a student himself.

“Oh c’mon pretty, at least I’m here like I said I’d be, right?” He reasons excitedly while offering you a toothy grin that’s way too cute for your liking. The gentle tap of the book on the crown of your head has you scrunching up your nose, and he sets it aside. “You sure this section is private enough?”

“One hundred percent. I used to sit here in my free time when I wanted to read books without buying them,” you admit, adding, “No cameras over here either.”

Yunho eyes you curiously. You're practically glowing today, evident to him by the smile you can’t seem to keep off of your face even when you feign annoyance at his tardiness. He presses a hand to the shelf ledge behind you while the other finds solace in his pocket with his belongings.

“What’s got you so happy today?”

He’s torn between whether you’ll say something about already being rid of one exam, or maybe your spontaneous rendezvous with him here has you that giddy. Your eyes gaze back into his expectant ones and you find yourself finally able to relax for the first time in many weeks. 

“It’s all over, Yunho.”

Normally, a sentence like that would seem ominous, but the wide stretch of your lips has his poor heart shooting into his throat. It’s the way your eyes are lit while saying his name that really gets him. His pocketed hand finds its way to your cheek and his thumb skims the apple of your cheek. This kind of smile is something he hopes he can evoke from you on his own in the near future.

“I really missed seeing you this happy,” he confesses, “You look like you can breathe again, ____.”

Something about the way those soft chocolate eyes of his are openly admiring every inch of your face, committing this kind of happiness from you to memory, has you shrinking back in shyness and averting your gaze.

Eager to move the spotlight off yourself, you inquire, “So… why’d you wanna meet up here?”

Oh, that’s right…

Yunho’s decision to drive to campus today mainly stemmed from the fact that you would already be here. He didn’t want you to have to go out of your way just for him to see you, especially after an exam. A clandestine meeting in the bookstore, which you assured him beforehand would be devoid of many students, seemed like a feasible option. He moves to wrap his arms around you, pressing you against his chest in a firm embrace. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist.

“It’s going to be a very busy week for me with grading final papers all by myself,” Yunho begins tentatively. 

His eyes close and he focuses on slowing down his heart that’s beating a bit too prominently in his chest when your ear is pressed against it. There are a lot of emotions coursing through him today, many he can’t quite decipher, although he supposes maybe that’s just everything he’s been feeling throughout the entire semester coming to a head: love, jealousy, desperation, angst, and more. Even amongst the newfound happiness blossoming within his chest at such a detrimental obstacle being overcome, anxiety is still the most overwhelming feeling consuming him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking inching closer and closer to the final moments where he can confidently say you’re his with no repercussions. He’s been reflecting on how things will change between you both when finally crossing over this hump, and how things will flourish sans the threats to your futures. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, though.

“Continue,” you encourage him, “I’m listening.”

���I just wanted to see you in person before I have to disappear, and tell you that I know you’re going to do amazing on your exams,” Yunho’s gentle voice imparts. He lowers it further to add, “I’m very proud of you and…”

When he trails off, you turn to plant your chin on his chest and peer up at him with coy eyes, “And?”

“And… I love you,” he whispers, eyes flickering up for the briefest second to confirm you’re still in solitude. 

Your gentle laughter at his neverending caution is like music to his ears. He’s still learning how to comfortably say those words without being fearful of not hearing them back. The feeling of his arms letting you go in favor of his hands holding either side of your face steals the opportunity to return his words of adoration. Instead, you put those unspoken words into the kiss he doesn’t hesitate to initiate. When you reach up and pull him by the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and encouraging him to let go, he feels his nerves finally melt away for this moment and this moment only. Yunho pulls away before he can get too lost in the feeling of not caring where you both are, and the way you’re led to chase his lips has heat prickling your cheeks.

“You know, the store’s nearly empty… Might even just be me and you,” you hum. Yunho’s eyes don’t leave yours, even as he feels your hand mischievously skirt down his chest to tap at the belt buckle under his sweater. When your fingers dare to dance further down to the crotch of his jeans, he finally takes hold of your wrist. “Oh come on, are you still nervous?”

He shakes his head confidently, “Just think it’d be more fun to reward you once your exams are over. Making you wait a lil might be fun, no?”

“You sure you can go a couple weeks without it?” You taunt him with a cock of your head. “All that stress while grading finals adds up, no?”

“Is this coming from the same woman who spent two weeks away from me in the arms of another man before I knew about it?” He immediately counters, eyebrows dancing with mischief. “I’ll be just fine. You, on the other hand, are a needy little thing it seems.”

“Don’t make me consider going back,” you warn him.

Yunho’s eyes find the ceiling as he inhales a deep, frustrated breath. Provoking him like this is unfair and dirty. If he were a man with no self-control, he’d have half a mind to have you in this aisle on your knees, putting that mouth to better use than spouting such nonsense. For now, he simply purses his lips and nods curtly. 

“That’s okay, be that way,” he concedes in a voice low enough for your ears only, “Because the next time I get my hands on you…” 

He trails off while palming your ass through your leggings and squeezing to his heart’s content. The yelp you let out at his fingers sinking in a little deeper than usual makes a pleased smile tug at his lips. He’d say a lot more, let those lewd thoughts entering his mind go freely for once, but the sounds of feet shuffling not too far away shut him up just as fast as he could think to say them. You both separate abruptly and face opposite shelves. How disappointing…

Yunho clears his throat before finally sighing, “On that note, I look forward to receiving your paper tonight.”

“I look forward to you reading it, Mr. Jeong,” you hum, and he can hear the smile lingering on your words. It’s been quite some time since he heard such formalities come from your mouth. “I hope it ends up being worth the wait. You did help me craft it, after all.”

Behind you, his warm chuckle is followed by him laying a comforting hand on your head. 

“See you at graduation, ____,” he whispers. 

When he departs, being left alone doesn’t feel so lonely for once.

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