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redflagshipwriter · 7 months ago

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The Proposal

This mini fic was inspired by the anon prompt to @faeriekit linked here and all the development that Faeriekit did for the idea. This fic is perilously regional. I half expect angry yelling from other areas of the Midwest.

Original post

Word count: 2718

Masterpost of my Archive Down Fics is here.

Jason came to with cream cheese stuck under his fingernails and in the creases of his fingers. He looked around the room wildly, trying to understand the situation he was in. The kitchen smelled fucking weird. He sniffed the air. Meat? Like, ham and also vinegar?

He washed his hands really well, grimacing at the greasy texture. Then he reconstructed what must have happened by the debris. This was not his first post-blackout rodeo, but usually he was reconstructing a literal crime scene.

There was an empty pickle jar on the countertop. There were packets of deli meat in the trash.

There was some kind of abomination on his nicest plate, which was obviously made of cream cheese wrapped around pickles, blanketed by the meat, and sliced thin like sushi rolls. It was lovingly protected by a perfect sheet of cling wrap.

“The fuck?” Jason said, a little scared and pissed off.

He paced the kitchen for a while and then went to pace on the balcony, because he needed a smoke to process this culinary abomination but something in his gut wailed at the tragedy of ruining it with cigarette smoke. Which was absurd, partly because the plate was in the refrigerator. He sensed in his bones that it needed to cool until the cream cheese was as hard as it would get, so that he could safely transport it. Transport it fucking where? Was this an assassination attempt against Batman? That sappy motherfucker was probably the only man in the world who would choke that down to make Jason happy.

He had a long drag on his cigarette and tried to ignore the way his fingers shook.

“Okay,” he said, squeezing his free hand shut and opening it. Maybe stimming would prompt his brain to go brr and explain this. “Did I have a stroke? Maybe I was possessed?”

It was hard to tell. He ground out his cigarette and tossed the butt in the tray before venturing back inside. He was calm. He was more centered. He flicked on the kitchen fan to clear out the pickle stink and then he went and put on his coat and grabbed the plate.

Why was he doing that?

The compulsion led him three blocks before he realized where he was going.

Not far away from the safehouse he was in, some college freshman had wasted the Joker when the clown tried to drag him into a van. He had called the police, crying the whole time in shock about being a murderer.

Jason had not been on the scene. He had only heard through comms. He had been out of town when the Joker got out. He had been rushing back on his bike, heart pounding and sick with nerves at the thought of his family out there without him.

And then the fucker had failed to secure the first victim for whatever sick play he’d had in mind, and the poor out of town kid who had apparently never heard of the Joker was breathing a sigh of relief that ‘oh, this wasn’t like, a birthday clown? Whew, that’s alright then,’ previous guilt over ending a life all gone.

Jason liked that. It was hugely undignified that the Joker had been got by someone who didn’t even know who he was. If he’d known, it would have killed his ego. As it was, Jason had laughed himself nearly sick before barricading himself inside to read the file Timmers put together on Danny Fenton.

Well. If his gut said that he should deliver this horrific dish to Fenton as thanks for the murder, well…

Jason grimaced. He just wouldn’t be seen doing it. If Fenton thought it was an assassination attempt and called the cops, Jason would never fess up.

He broke into Fenton’s apartment, very glad that the guy was in class at the moment. He mourned the loss of his plate but honestly, this was the least destructive black out he’d had, so it was whatever. He put the pickle rolls in the fridge, looked around, and then left. He was done. He’d thanked Fenton, or whatever (maybe he’d attacked him, honestly, Jason didn’t know how he would react to finding that trash in his fridge.)

It could end now.

The next morning, Jason scrubbed away a yawn and realized that he had just scraped a mess of chopped snickers bars into a bowl that already had clouds of something white and -

He took out a piece and bit into it to confirm that it was perfectly cubed green apple.

“I am possessed,” Jason said in horror, looking around the counter to see what the Pit Madness had cooked up this time. Why did the fucking Lazarus Pit know these recipes?

The white shit was a mix of cool whip and vanilla pudding, apparently. There was an untouched bottle of caramel sauce waiting innocently.

“...Does that go in?” Jason wondered, vaguely horrified.

Well, maybe an evil witch was doing this to him. Bottoms up. He poured caramel in until it felt right, guided by what had to be someone else’s goddamn ancestors, and then mixed it all up with a spoon.

This looked a lot better than the last thing. Jason scraped it into a bowl and then stole a spoonful of it to try.

“Holy shit. It’s like eating a caramel apple,” he said, muffled around the food. He swallowed and genuinely considered taking more.

Nope! His gut said nope. This was another offering for–

“Hold up, offering?” Jason put it in the fridge, clingwrap on top, and let his mind be blown. He put his face in his hands and just reeled. He was making offerings for this motherfucker now. He opened his phone, intending to search the things he’d been blackout making and froze.

His lock screen was Danny Fenton’s police intake photo, looking pretty relaxed after he'd been told the booking was a formality.

“I don’t remember doing that!” Jason frantically changed it back to his old lock screen, a grimy alleyway with a hilariously shaped filth puddle and one of his favorite rats.

He snuck this dessert thing into Fenton’s fridge, collected his clean plate with some relief, and left. He didn't know if Fenton had eaten that shit or if he'd thrown it away, but at least he'd washed the plate.

“That was the last time,” Jason told himself, pacing around his room. He wasn’t– that was two days in a row now that he had a normal day, went out on patrol, went to bed, and woke up in his kitchen. It wasn’t going to happen again.

He chainsmoked all day to such a degree that Stephanie Brown saw him, whined “Dude,” in disbelief, and jumped off a building while holding her nose to get away from him. It was a fair reaction. He had a shower before patrol so that no one could make a connection between Jason, stinkiest man in Gotham today, and the Red Hood, a guy who owned a shower.

Patrol went fine. He caught himself veering past Fenton’s shitty apartment building twice but no one was nearby enough to call him out for it.

He went to bed and got a jumpscare because at some point of his most recent fugue state he'd gone out and bought a bunch of wedding magazines and made them into a nest. He made a roar of frustration and pushed them off the bed with only a twinge of interest in what that swan centerpiece was made of.

Jason went the fuck to sleep, determined to walk this off.

He woke up the next morning in his kitchen. “Cream cheese, again,” Jason complained. He gave the bowl he was mixing a furious stir and then shoved it in the fridge.

Cream cheese, chopped meat, and chopped green onion. He searched the internet to identify the fucker. This was a cheeseball.

…He frowned, thinking of the fugly mess in the bowl.

It was the larval form of a cheeseball, he amended.

Why did he know this shitty recipe.

Stomach tight with dread, he looked up the other things. Day one was a pickle roll. Day two was snickers salad.

These were all real Midwestern potluck dishes. He hadn't made them up. Why did the pit know these recipes?

The Snickers salad offended him as a concept and he bitterly regretted finding it delicious.

“Salad,” Jason repeated in aggrieved disbelief. It was good but it was no goddamn salad. “I could just make him a real salad. Will this end if I bring Fenton good food?”

It wasn't the worst idea. He put a pin in it.

Grimly, as if he was going off to war, Jason researched how to shape the ball. If he was doing this, which apparently he was for no goddamn reason, he was going to do it to perfection. When he was done he wrapped it up tight, got an assortment of crackers, and left it at Danny Fenton’s apartment with a sort of tired resignation that this might as well be happening.

This time was different. This time, Fenton was home.

Jason barely avoided being seen by rushing out the window over the sink and hiding from the immediate line of sight. He was, however, close enough to hear–

“Holy shit, is that a cheeseball? Who loves me?” and then some truly ghastly, wet crunching as Fenton tore through the crackers and cheeseball like a wild beast. It felt like being in a horror film. Jason very badly wanted to leave. Jason very badly wanted to crawl back inside and present himself for a scrap of Fenton’s approval.

What the fuck? What the fuck!

He fled. And this time, he decided to take action. He was going get out of this sick mind trap and-

“Nothing wrong with you, it's not a curse,” Zatanna said, bored about it. “Whatever is going on is safe, sane, consensual, and none of my business.” She portalled away before Jason could argue that it did not feel sane. He was having an entirely new category of mental breakdown and when one of the Bats found out about it, he was going to be a case study.

Fine. He gritted his jaw. New plan. Maybe he could beat the curse by showing it up.

He called out of crime for the day and ignored the confused commentary in the background of his phone call– can he do that? Of course he can, he’s the friggin’ boss– and spent it furiously researching. He needed a crowning achievement. He needed to find out what was sacred in this culinary tradition, master it, and then tell the compulsion to suck on bricks.

Casserole. The answer was a casserole.

Jason scrolled through dozens of recipes, scowling fiercely. That was no good. That offended his senses. He just knew that would be bland. He-

“Do I want to make that?” Jason asked aloud, puzzled by his fixation on the old-fashioned goulash casserole recipe. Worcestershire sauce– he didn’t have that in this safe house for sure. Beef, pasta, tomatoes… yeah, okay. This was the one. For no fucking reason at all, this was the one.

He went out shopping like he usually went on life-or-death missions, full of grim purpose.

He got back and assembled his ingredients. It was not exactly a challenge to follow the recipe. Jason turned off the stove top and froze in place. “I don’t have an ancestral pan,” he said, horrified. Holy fuck. How could he dare to give it in a regular baking pan- he had to get one. Where the fuck does one acquire an ancestral casserole pan on short notice?

Panicked, he called the Manor, hands shaking as he packed the whole thing up and stuffed it in the fridge to keep it food safe until he could bake it.

Bruce answered, sounding a little choked up. “Hello, Jason, so glad-”

He hung up. He texted Tim. “I need you to steal something for me from the Manor.”

“You’re allowed in, you gigantic freak,” Tim wrote back.

Jason did some meditative breathing and resorted to outright pleading immediately. “What do you want? I will give you whatever you want. I just need an ancestral casserole pan.”

“I am NOT stealing from Alfred’s kitchen,” Tim wrote back. Which was fair. “Drake ancestral pan alright?”

Jason thought about it. It was still a family pan, sorta. By the transitive property, and that was a perfectly good property. He sent back a thumbs up, his GPS pin, and the word “Hurry.”

A while later, Tim dropped off a glass dish, loudly said “I don’t wanna know,” and slammed Jason’s door shut.

Fine. He was already moving his stuff from the now-cold frying pan into the casserole dish. It went into the oven from there. Jason spent the bake time trying to think of new coping mechanisms, because apparently smoking wasn’t up to this level of mental fuckery.

He waited out the bake time. He let it cool enough to be safe to travel with but hot enough to deliver warm. Jason grappled to Danny Fenton's apartment for the fourth time in four days, let himself in, and nearly jumped out of his boots when he realized that Fenton was in the kitchen watching him.

“Hey,” Fenton said. He was sitting on his counter in his pajamas, eating ice cream out of the bucket with a spoon. He was certifiable. Jason wanted to cross the room and kiss whatever Fenton would let him. Hands, face, feet, whatever.

Wow, weird.

“...Hey,” Jason said, way too late.

Fenton crunched down on his ice cream. “...That a casserole?” He said.

Jason nodded wordlessly, feeling very grateful that he had his hood on. He put the casserole down on the counter. He took a step backwards to flee.

Fenton pointed at Jason with the spoon, wholly unintimidated by the heavily armed man who'd broken into his house. “This is a proposal.”

Oh. Oh, motherfucking shitsocks. Jason felt weak through the knees. It was. Why was- why was he proposing??

Fenton took in his shock with a detached air. “Huh,” he said, like he'd learned something from this. “Um, it's nice of you and all. Have you been like, fixated on me for a while or- ohhh. I avenged you, didn't I?” He dropped the spoon in his ice cream carton and slapped both his palms down on the countertop. “He killed you? That sucks, man,” Fenton empathized. “I get it. I think if someone smashed the portal with a hammer I'd be down on one knee.”

Jason's brain was simply not running any program any longer. He gaped. He wasn't coherent enough to ask why Danny knew he'd been murdered by the Joker, but he had his shit together well enough to be fixated on the point.

“Um, it's not usually me being chased,” Fenton said. He made a face. “I… huh, I think I'm flattered.” He very obviously gave Jason a once-over. “I suppose this is your way of showing that you're a provider.” He heaved himself off the counter and went to investigate the casserole, sniffing and lifting the lid. “Oh, fuuuuuuck,” Danny groaned. He sniffed appreciatively. “Good demonstration of your husband material, t-b-h.”

Jason resisted the urge to tackle him to the ground.

“That's the good stuff.” Fenton closed it back up, but not before giving his ice cream spoon a considering look.

Oh, yuck. This guy was so grungly. Jason needed him badly. He shuddered.

Fenton looked at him.

Jason looked back.

“Do you wanna try moving in and see how we get on?” Fenton offered. “Take it slow, no wedding just yet.”

“Absolutely.” Jason full-body twitched with just how eager he was. “How do you feel about swans?”

“Neutral,” Danny said, after a brief moment of consideration. “I like stars, though.”

Okay, so that would be their wedding theme.

Jason only realized he'd said that aloud when Fenton's eyebrows shot up. Mortified and really wondering what was wrong with him, Jason offered a weak smile.

Fenton made a considering noise. He crossed his arms. He looked Jason up and down. “...Can you grill?” He asked. “Like, beer chicken?”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main

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sailorsoons · 15 days ago

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Amnesia (c.sc)

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader

Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another.

Word Count: 11,920

Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers

Type: Smut, Angst if you squint

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Under the cut

A/N: This fic was posted on my original blog which has been deleted. I am now reposting it. I hope it does half as well as it did when I originally posted this story - thank you to everyone who left amazing feedback the first time. It genuinely made me so happy and I am so sorry that it got sent to the moon where I can no longer read it.

A/N 2: Thank you @yoongukie-ff for sending me your original reblog of this to pull the summary information from. I appreciate you and I love you!

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Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes.

DAY ONE

You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face.

Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says.

Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan.

He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt.

It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though.

“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”

“You have no idea. Wait until game night.”

“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?”

“Every Sunday. Do you like games?”

Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.”

“So am I.”

He grins. “I look forward to it, then.”

Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism.

Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group.

Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap.

Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin.

“Wow, so strong.”

He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.”

“No, no, you are. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.”

“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.”

“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.”

“I like winning.”

You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do.

“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.”

“I’m down.”

Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back.

Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.

Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.

“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”

“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”

His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.”

“Hmm. Not convincing.”

Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.”

“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?”

“What will you give me?”

You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful.

A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more.

You already do want more.

“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment.

When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.

“I can think of something, I think.”

DAY SEVEN

“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”

You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”

Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes.

“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.”

“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.”

It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet.

He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”

“You too.”

DAY TEN

Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :) You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here

Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!

DAY TWENTY THREE

You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad? Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :)

DAY THIRTY

You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”

“Are you hungry?”

You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?”

“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?”

Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”

“Alright.”

DAY FORTY THREE

He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.

Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.

Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.

So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.

Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out.

At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control.

Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine?

Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot.

Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar.

Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees…

You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass.

He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something.

The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be.

DAY FIFTY TWO

“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”

“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.”

Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.

Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.

“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.”

“I do have a shower.”

“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.”

Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.”

His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom.

Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine.

And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick.

It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance.

Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder.

He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door.

Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.”

“Too bad.”

Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck.

“I was promised a shower.”

“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.

He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.”

“Hmmm. I’m listening.”

He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.

“I’ll massage your shoulders…”

“Hmm.”

His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.”

Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.

But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him.

Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly.

“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.”

This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.

You always do.

Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily.

“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom.

Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on.

Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin.

He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs.

Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?”

“Shut up.”

Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door.

“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.”

It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing.

Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist.

Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves.

A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns.

Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth.

Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.

As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy.

He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”

“We’re in the shower.”

He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.”

“The only crime is pride.”

The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?”

“Antigone by Sophocles.”

“What’s that one about?”

Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.

Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered.

“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.”

“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.”

“The guy who fucked his mom?”

Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”

“Craaazy family.”

“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”

“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.”

Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs.

“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”

Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit.

One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently.

Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.

“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.”

“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”

“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”

A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”

Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up.

When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.

Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you.

“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy.

Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance.

Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it.

He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm.

It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.

“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”

“My knees are fucking useless right now.”

“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.”

You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come.

“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily.

Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.

“Good?”

“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.”

“Yeah?”

“All good.”

“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”

“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.

He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance.

Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him.

“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.”

Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin.

He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.

That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him.

Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.

When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you.

“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.”

And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass.

He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you.

For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish.

Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”

“It’s cute.”

“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.”

He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.”

DAY FIFTY SEVEN

“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”

“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”

“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”

“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.”

Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable.

“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.”

“Alright.”

“I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.”

He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.”

Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?”

That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”

DAY SEVENTY EIGHT

“Want to do me a huge favor?”

You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily.

“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?”

“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”

That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.

Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.

But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget.

So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to.

Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”

“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber”

Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs.

You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it.

“I suppose I can be convinced.”

“Oh? What can I do to convince you?”

You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s-

“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.”

He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.”

His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.”

“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!”

DAY NINETY TWO

“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”

And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing.

Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you.

It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.

You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs.

Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.

He wants to.

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches.

When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes.

He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you.

Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs.

Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.

The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much.

All it took was meeting you.

“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator.

Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.

You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation.

When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table.

“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him.

His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.

Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements.

“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”

“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.”

Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.

“This way, wifey.”

You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.

Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar.

Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.

He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey.

Seungcheol wants this.

He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you.

Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you.

The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd.

His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.

You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by.

When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.

Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss.

When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants.

DAY NINETY THREE

“Be my girlfriend.”

The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.

“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.

“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”

Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.

Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop.

Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too.

Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed.

“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.”

“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”

His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.”

“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”

He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”

“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.”

Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving.

Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status.

The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky.

“Gonna suck something else, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?”

“Huh?”

He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”

You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You should have seen your face, though.”

“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”

His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”

“No, but you should have seen your face.”

The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket.

It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway.

Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours.

Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there.

Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi.”

Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire.

Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch.

You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.

“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?”

“Fucking anywhere will do.”

Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.

Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.

“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.”

You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.”

“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”

Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it.

Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.

Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off.

“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.”

“You’re a work of art yourself.”

Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”

Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.

He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily.

“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.

What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips.

“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”

Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him.

“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”

“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.”

You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you.

Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his.

Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you.

“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.”

You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.

He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft.

Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth.

Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.

A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers.

“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”

“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?”

“Please give me something.”

He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”

“I can take more.”

“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”

Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter.

Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you.

“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.”

You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you.

“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over.

“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.”

His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.

“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.”

Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously.

“Mmm.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?”

Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.

Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.”

You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”

“Mhmm.”

Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are.

You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.

Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping.

“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.”

An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.

You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached.

“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?”

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.”

With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little.

He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself.

You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you.

A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you.

It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours.

His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come.

You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle.

Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears.

When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch.

“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you.

Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand.

“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”

He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”

“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.”

“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?”

Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.

“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”

“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”

“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.”

“Sure thing, wifey.”

“Ugh. Is that our thing now?”

“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.”

A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.”

“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.”

You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.”

“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.”

“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.”

“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.”

“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.

“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.”

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iniquitousyearning · 9 months ago

Text

tom riddle. | this is your punishment

PAIRING: tom riddle x fem!reader

SUMMARY: prefect tom riddle catches you breaking the rules again, and this time decides to provide a different type of punishment he’s certain you won’t soon forget.

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon (entirely consensual), dom!tom, brat!reader, BDSM (light), intense humiliation kink, sexual punishment/ forced orgasm, inappropriate use of magic/spells, clit-stim orgasm, begging.

You had thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes to dance with disaster. Thirty minutes to dodge destruction. Thirty minutes to descend into the depths of the library, infiltrate the restricted section, slip the book on occlumency you clandestinely borrowed back into its rightful place, and ascend back to your dormitory before the harbinger of your nightmares—Head Prefect Tom Riddle—emerges from the prefects' bathroom and winds his way back down to the dungeons.

Thirty minutes felt like both an eternity and a heartbeat. The weight of impending doom pressing down on your chest as you crept through the darkened corridors, each shadow a lurking menace, each creak of the ancient floorboards a deafening scream that could betray your presence.

And though the stakes were disastrously high, you weren't entirely worried; you knew Tom Riddle's schedule as intimately as the lines on your palm, and he was nothing if not a creature of habit. But of course, there was always the chance. The slim, terrifying possibility that he might deviate from his usual routine. And being caught by him was the absolute last thing you needed right now.

Every second felt like a blade poised above your head, ready to drop at the slightest misstep. It was no secret that Tom Riddle had it out for you. By now, it was practically etched into the very stones of Hogwarts, a fact as immutable as gravity. Everywhere you went, every step you took, he was always there—watching, waiting, eager to catch you in some transgression.

The relentless scrutiny was exhausting. The number of detentions you'd served was staggering, the punishments you'd endured endless. Not to mention the droning, entirely condescending lectures and disappointed yet gleeful stares he always made sure to give you as he personally hauled you to Dumbledores office.

It was all bullshit, and certainly had nothing to do with your frequent rule-breaking or constant sneaking around. No, of course not. You most definitely never toed the line. You were as innocent as they come. As pure as the driven snow. In your mind it all boiled down to the fact that Tom Riddle had it out for you, plain and fucking simple. A personal vendetta written into the fabrication of his identity.

Because even if he did. Even if he did somehow manage to track you and uncover your clandestine activities by just being the perceptive cunning bastard that he is, there are certain things that simply defy logic. Some occurrences that just don't add up.

There are just some instances that can't be explained, save for the simplest conclusion: Tom Riddle has been inside your mind for months.

And that was precisely why you sought out the book on Occlumency—you needed it. Needed to learn how to block Tom out because if he wanted to play mind games, you were determined to play better. You were determined to keep up.

You knew Tom took pleasure in continually getting one step ahead of you, and as much as it utterly ticked you off—perhaps a twisted part of you enjoyed being caught by him—savoured the banter you shared including his threats that next time he'd take matters into his own hands, since even Dumbledore was growing tired of your antics. Perhaps you revelled in provoking him, in defying him like no other student dared, relishing the thrill of the chase.

Perhaps you simply loved to hate him. Because he was always so goddamn good at everything, always in control. It was maddening, intoxicating, and you couldn't deny the rush it gave you. His perfection was a thorn in your side, and yet, you craved it, sought it out like a moth to a flame, even if you'd never admit it.

Not to yourself, and most definitely not to him.

As the night droned on, you managed to make it to the library unscathed, slipping into the restricted section unseen. Everything was going according to plan, not a soul around to forsake you. And yet, just as you slipped the book back onto its origin shelf, you heard a distant yet distinct voice, accompanied by the determined clacking of perfectly polished dress shoes.

"—ah, yes. I believe I informed him that I would have an answer by tomorrow evening."

That voice. You could never fucking mistake it.

"—well, yes, Mr.Riddle—but he said—"

"No matter." The footsteps ceased. "You'll both await my determination until tomorrow's eve. Continue pressing and I will see to make you wait two more."

The bile rose in your throat, threatening to spill over onto the floor beneath you. His arrogance had always been a towering monument, casting shadows that seemed to suffocate all reason. Sure, he was the brightest star in the firmament, undeniably brilliant with features rivaling the gods themselves—chiseled jawline, captivating dark eyes—practically born to bask in his own glory.

Yet, for all his outward perfection, his self-assurance bordered on the verge of the grotesque.

"—yes, o-of course, Mr. Riddle..." you stifled a distasteful scoff. You weren't sure how that individual was even standing with such lack of spine. "—t-thank you, sir."

You didn't stick around to hear a response or the lack thereof. The voices were far enough to keep you breathing but close enough to damn near make you faint because you knew he was most likely just outside the iron gates. You couldn't afford to ponder the improbability of his presence or the surrealness of your predicament. You had to move—deeper, further out of sight.

Which was going perfectly well until you rounded a corner with a little too much intensity and collided directly into a small round table. The sharp screech of wood against wood cutting through the thick silence like a blade, echoing ominously in the vast, dim library. Panic seized you, every nerve electrified, as if the table's cry had been your own.

And it was roughly ten devastating seconds after this that you heard the creak of the iron gates opening behind you, and those same polished footsteps drawing forward with haste.

Fucking hell.

You'd spent enough time in the Forbidden Forest to know how to keep your calm, to know how to effectively avoid being noticed—how to silence your footsteps and slip around obstacles without leaving a trace, how to mask your scent with earth and leaves, how to blend into the shadows to avoid becoming prey to the creatures that lurk in the depths. Yet, the only predator you'd never been able to successfully evade was the one you were currently running from.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

A shadow that clung to you, a hunter whose senses were always sharper, whose instincts were always keener. No matter how well you hid, he always seemed to find you, as if he could sense the very beat of your heart.

Tonight—to your naive surprise, was no different.

"Think you can hide from me, do you?" Tom's voice slithered through the narrow gap between the shelves, smooth and dark as midnight. "Not quite stealthy enough, I'm afraid."

You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to steady your breathing, but his words seemed to wrap around your throat, squeezing the air out of your lungs and replacing it with something dizzying.

"Why don't you come out, little snake?" He purred, his footsteps drawing closer, each one a death knell. "We both know how this game ends."

Little snake. Two words that rooted you to the spot. It was impossible, inconceivable that he could know it was you. Yet the nickname, the venomous familiarity of it, left no room for doubt.

You slipped around the corner, the two of you making calculated moves like chess pieces. Your board was one of evasion, his one of domination. The gates were in clear view now as you paused to determine his position, silently mapping the space between here and there, certain that if you ran fast enough you could make it—if you moved quietly enough he wouldn't know which direction you were heading.

"You're only making this worse for yourself, darling." Arrogance so thick you weren't sure how he wasn't choking on it. And as much as you detested it, something about it sparked heat between your thighs. "You know I always win."

With the desperation of a cornered, wounded animal, you decided you were done playing and began making a silent yet brisk path toward the gates. You knew you could get about three shelves deep before you needed to take cover again. The silence was deafening, urging you to move faster.

And just as you were about to reach your next hiding spot, just about to duck back in between the shelves, a sudden sensation of pressure coiled around your ankle, cementing you to the spot.

"What the f-"

It was as if the very air had turned to iron, suffocating you with its weight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down, disbelief flooding your senses. The once innocuous carpet beneath your feet now glowed with enchantment, its fibres twisting and contorting, snaking around your ankles and climbing steadily up your calves.

"There she is." It was an echo from behind you, deep vocal inflection choking you with its pride. "Always so deliciously predictable.”

The fibres wound tightly around your upper calves, constricting tighter against your leggings as you squirmed, struggling to free yourself. Tom appeared beside you with a leisurely saunter, his smirk so smug it seemed almost tangible.

Your frustration bubbled over into a groan of disbelief. "You charmed the fucking carpet?"

"Of course," Tom replied. "Why do things the hard way when magic can do it for you?" He stepped closer, his eyes roaming over you, drinking in your entirety, running the tip of his wand up your arm. "You should know, little snake, I always find a way to catch my prey."

You watched as two dark eyes dipped low, lingering over the thickness of your thighs, fighting against the tendrils of the enchanted carpet that had now crawled tightly around them. You certainly felt like captured prey, tangled in a web of his making, awaiting his next move—and he certainly didn't miss how tantalizingly prepared for him you were, like a gift waiting to be unravelled.

"Impressive, Riddle—you've really outdone yourself this time," you spat the words through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to smack his wand away, battling the unwanted heat pooling in your core. It was the way he was looking at you. The way you wanted him to keep doing it. "Guess you can add 'carpet tamer' to your long list of accolades now, huh?"

Tom huffed, a glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes as he forced them up to meet yours. The corners of his lips curled upward in a smirk, every pore radiating control. He looked at you as though you were a puzzle he had already solved, a game he had already won.

"Now now, darling, no need to be so dramatic." His free hand reached up and grasped your jaw, kinking your neck back as he stepped closer to you. "Though, I think 'little fucking brat tamer' might be the more notable achievement to add to the list."

Your stomach leapt, your teeth sinking into your tongue for a moment as you fought to gather your sanity. Your defiance was draining like sand in an hourglass.

"Hm." You huffed, the grip on your jaw firm as steel. "Quite the mouthful."

"So I've been told," he shot back, his eyes glinting like shards of glass under the dim light. "You'd know all about mouthfuls, wouldn't you?"

"You fucking wish." You hoped he did.

His smirk deepened, his fingers digging into your skin like iron claws. You could tell he was amused by you, as though you'd just delivered the punchline of the century, as though you were the world's most revered stand-up comedian. It was maddeningly infuriating and dangerously captivating all at once.

"Still wielding that weapon of a tongue, even when you've so clearly lost." He remarked with a click of his own tongue, releasing his grip on your jaw. Stepping back, his eyes devoured the sight of his spell tangled around your thighs. You caught the tension in his jaw before his eyes snapped back to yours. "Tell me, little snake, do you know why I admire this spell so much?"

Your gaze remained fixed on him, anticipation crawling over your skin like a colony of ants as he scrutinized you. You offer him a shake of your head, a scowl etched deep on your features. "Can't read your mind, Riddle. Not everyone is a skilled Legilimens like yourself."

Tom's chuckle rang out, swallowed by the thick tension in the air, suffusing the oxygen you desperately tried to gulp down. He moved to circle you, and you felt his presence looming behind you, his body brushing against yours like a whisper in the wind. One hand found your hip, however softly, as though he was reluctant to touch you.

"It's a very versatile spell, darling," he dismissed your sass, his voice stripped of all emotion as his lips hovered closer to your ear. "The best part being...I know exactly how to manipulate it to get you to listen."

Words withered on your tongue, attitude wilting in your lungs, and oxygen fleeing from your veins—never to return. Tom's looming presence behind you was enough to make your chest constrict, but his words—his words were a different beast altogether. In the countless times he's caught you, never once did you imagine yourself here, like this, with him.

And never once did you imagine yourself enjoying it this fucking much.

"One might describe it as remarkably adaptable, catering to a multitude of desires..." his hand floated away from your hip, his fingers subtly dancing—the coils responding to his ministrations and slithering higher up your thighs. "And you, little brat, have a plethora of desires at this moment, do you not?"

Your jaw nearly smacked the floor as you watched him command the spell without the aid of his wand. You felt your stomach twist into an iron knot, something heating your blood to flame. Perhaps you underestimated him, perhaps you-

"F-fuck-" you gasped as the charmed fibres slithered between your thighs, coiling higher and higher, wrapping around your waist and ensnaring your arms at your sides. The pressure on your cunt sent your head reeling, your entire body quivering. "Tom...what..."

You know Tom is just beaming with satisfaction, the tremor in your voice eliciting a low growl from deep within him as his hold on your hip resumes, his lips teasing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"Speak up, little doll, articulate your thoughts," he murmured, his words dripping with cunning like poison. "I know you possess an abundance of them."

You suppress a groan, squirming in a futile attempt to free your wrists, to move against the relentless hold. The heat of Tom's presence behind you has your senses in a frenzy. Your head spinning, your body silently yearning for more. You despise how much you're enjoying this, whatever this even is.

You whimper, lids fluttering. "This...this isn't fair..."

"Neither is disobeying the rules every fucking chance you get—but here we are," his hand brushed against your thigh, fingertips barely grazing, his voice drifting further from your ear. "You should understand, this is all your own doing...the charm merely responds to your desires, adapting to fulfill them.”

That insufferable bastard. The list of descriptors you'd use to paint his portrait would stretch longer than the very library you're standing in, and then some. Every time you think you've unraveled his mysteries, he unveils another layer that exposes just how brilliantly twisted he truly is. How charming. How intoxicating.

You loathe him, relish in despising every fiber of his being. Yet you can't deny the fact that he outmaneuvered you, in the most tantalizing manner imaginable.

But still, you attempt to deny it. "That's...that's not..."

He muses. "Isn't it?"

Tom withdraws his hand from your thigh, and almost immediately, you ache for its return, the absence of his touch leaving you yearning. Caught off guard by the tendrils of the charm exerting pressure against your core, teasing over your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, teeth sinking into your lip to stifle any sounds.

"It appears you have a penchant for challenging me..." his voice is a certain murmur. "It seems the charm knows precisely why.”

All the smugness of a deity himself, a walking, talking colossus among mere mortals. As inevitable as the sunrise each morning. It made you want to bare your teeth at him, but instead, all you could manage was a groan, struggling against the pleasure his charm inflicted upon you.

"I'm not quite certain what you would deem a fitting punishment..." he continues, voice as deep as the depths of your desire. As dark as an all encompassing black hole. "—given the countless ones you've endured in the past months, which have clearly taught you nothing."

You groan again, your head bowing as you gaze down at the tendrils of the enchantment, ensnaring you in the clutches of a man with teeth of diamonds, fingers like razor-sharp claws. It'd been a relentless dance of dominance between you for years, a battle of wills that always seems to end in his favor.

You despise how he effortlessly wields his power over you. How he has so easily read between the lines of your story—knowing precisely the effect he has on your body, knowing exactly what you crave.

You fight back a moan. "Mmmff—fuck..you..."

Tom maneuvers his mouth to your ear, his presence pressing against you from behind, the ghost of his breath caresses your skin as he whispers;

"You wish you could."

Beautiful, insufferable bastard.

"Fuck," you huff through gritted teeth, sweat gathering behind your neck, fingernails biting into your palms as you clench your fists, still battling against the overwhelming pleasure. "Get out of my head.."

You feel a low chuckle resonate against your back, its vibrations stirring something primal within you, his fingers grazing against your side.

"Do you truly believe this is mere manipulation, little snake?" Tom's touch begins to ascend, feather-light and elusive, barely registering against your clothes as he presses closer behind you. "I am intimately acquainted with your desires, darling. I've been privy to them for months." You can almost taste the smugness in his voice. "The truth is fairly simple—you crave me, and you despise yourself for it."

Tom takes a deliberate step back, circling around to stand before you, his gaze sweeping over your disheveled form. Your breath comes in rapid gasps, your skin flushed with desire, and you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. You yearn for more of him, yet you resist acknowledging it, even to yourself.

It's as though he can see your thoughts, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in. "You'd go to any lengths to avoid admitting it, wouldn't you?"

"Gods—" he's right, and you hate him for it. “Mmmf.”

Tom hums softly, his lips barely suppressing a smirk as he steps closer to you. He reaches up, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he tilts your chin, compelling you to meet his gaze.

"How about we try a simple question?" His dark eyes bore into yours, their depths ablaze with a devilish glint. "Do you wish it to stop?"

You're rendered speechless. The egotistic side of you wants you to say yes—while the other, larger part is consumed with an insatiable hunger for more, for him. The charm swirls over your clit, applying increased pressure against your leggings, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip again to stifle a desperate moan. You couldn't answer him if you tried.

Tom's eyes roam over your face, not willing to miss a thing. "Use your words...tell me what you need..."

The sensation against your clit intensifies further, as if dancing to the rhythm of his words. You can feel his gaze boring into you as the heat between your thighs surges, and you realize you're on the brink of climax. And Tom knows it.

"Fuck..." your hips twitch involuntarily—torn between craving more friction and fleeing from it—your mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. Tom brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, his gaze fixed on his own movements, and you feel yourself unraveling, succumbing to the scorching intensity of his eyes—two dark pools of permanent ink. "Tom...please..."

His grip tightens. His jaw clenches. "Say it."

Shame courses through your veins, searing your skin like molten lava, the prickling sensation drowning you. You're on the verge of climaxing from an enchanted carpet, a manifestation of his spell, and the humiliation threatens to consume you.

"I need you-" you gasp, the words tumbling from your lips in a pitiful plea, desperation sinking its claws into your soul. So close...too close. "Please—please, I—I don't want to cum from this—I..."

Oh, but you do. You most certainly fucking do though the mere thought of admitting it feels like a dagger twisting in your gut. Tom's eyes glint with amusement, his head cocked slightly as he regards you with a faux expression of pity, as artificial as the plastic plants in the common room.

"I've truly made a mess of you, haven't I?" His hand glides down from your face, tracing a path along your neck, lightly grazing over your collarbone. "Tell me what you want from me."

Gods, you ache to strike him—yet crave to kiss him and cry out his name with equal fervour. Your defiance lies shattered, a broken relic at your feet.

You peer up at him, pleading. "Please, Tom, please touch me—I need you..."

A smirk toys at his lips, his fingers slipping under your jaw once more to hold you steady as he leans in closer.

"Touch you?" His voice is like a loaded gun, his fingers the bullets—intent cocked and ready to annihilate, but instead he taunts you, keeps you on edge, pressing the barrel against your temple just to see the look in your eyes. "You want me, the man you so madly fucking detest, to touch you."

You lack the strength to command him to go to hell, but oh, how you wish you did. Just to witness his reaction, to see what he’d do next. Despite his appalling self-assurance, you can see behind the mask—see how he is genuinely taken aback by your submission, as though he never expected you to surrender, to confess your desire for him.

"Tom, please..." you beg, trembling with anticipation, your impending climax a rapidly swelling tide. "I want you...I want you to make me cum—you-you win."

Tom pulls back from your ear to regard you, his gaze fully focused this time. He takes in the sight of you—trembling, panting, wide-eyed before him—his expression conveying complete contentment in simply observing you as you struggle to persuade him to touch you.

That familiar taunting grin lingers upon his lips, uncontainable, and you know he's relishing this moment far too much.

"I know," he says softly, his thumb tracing your jawline as his hand falls to your neck. "I always do, don't I, little doll..."

His voice drifts over you like smoke, thick and intoxicating, wrapping around you in a dizzying embrace. The intensity of the charm wavers slightly, granting you a momentary reprieve to catch your breath as Tom leans in, so close that you can feel his exhales caressing your lips. Your head spins, every sense overwhelmed by his presence.

"But you deserve this—" he continues, his voice a rumble like thunder through your veins. "—you deserve to be humiliated like this, to break for me without my hands ever touching you." His mouth hovers just millimeters from yours, taunting you with its nearness. "This is your punishment, little doll...and you're going to take it."

The pleasure between your thighs swells once more as the charm resumes its sinuous movements and you can't suppress the moan that escapes your lips, mingling with the groan of utter frustration. All you can do is stare at him.

Tom hums, amused. "Because you revel in it, don't you? Being a little disobedient brat..."

Your eyes glaze over, your pulse soaring as Tom's breath once again brushes against your parted lips. The ache for him is almost unbearable, as if he's injected something into your veins, rendering you unable to function without him. It's maddening, in the most exquisite way imaginable.

"You're-ohh-fuck.." your voice comes out as a moan, low and breathy, the words trailing off as the charm adds pressure to your clit, stars dancing at the edges of your vision. "Gods..."

"There we go, just as I like you,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing over your jaw. "Unable to unleash that pretty little mouth. Perfectly shattered for me."

You clench around nothing, yearning to scoff. "Mmmf—never..."

Tom chuckles at your feeble attempt at defiance, though the sound carries a hollow, half-hearted quality. You both know you've passed the point of return. His fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, until his palm cradles your face, his thumb brushing gently across your lips.

"Is that so?" He murmurs softly, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Well then, go ahead...let that pretty mouth run wild...prove that your defiance is more than just an act..."

The way he wields his power has you teetering on the brink of madness, and you despise the fact that you've revelled in every torturous moment of it. You long to snap back, to wield your tongue, to curse him—anything to grasp onto even a shred of control. But every fucking word is a struggle, every moment not focused on your breathing is an achievement.

You squeeze your eyes shut, channeling all the energy you have left. "You...you're such an...arrogant—mmf—I...I hate you..."

"Mhm. You hate me." He cooes. "And yet, here you are..." his voice is as soft as feathers, as warm as the morning sun, the unmistakable taunt laced within. His thumb presses against your bottom lip, slipping between your teeth. "...falling apart for a mere spell, begging for me, for my touch..."

You feel Tom's thumb pressing against your tongue as you whimper. You attempt to speak, to convey something, but instead, you find yourself instinctively sucking lightly against his thumb in response.

"Mm." Tom's brow lifts slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. He seems pleased with your reaction. "A much better use for that mouth."

You're beyond caring about the way he's taunting you, how he's systematically humiliated and debased you, stripping away every ounce of defiance without ever even touching your skin. Tremors wrack your body from the overwhelming sensations, rendering coherent thought nearly impossible.

Your head lolls to the side, constrained by his hand, as waves of pleasure crash over you, your climax approaching rapidly and dangerously.

"Fuck-I'm..." you manage to squeak, his thumb still nestled in your mouth. "Mmmf-"

Tom's eyes darken with satisfaction as he watches you unravel, his thumb pressing deeper into your mouth, a silent command for you to keep sucking. The enchantment continues its relentless assault—tightening around you, swirling over your clit and amplifying the pleasure until it's almost unbearable.

"Go on," he murmurs, his voice a blend of silk and steel. "Let go for me. Show me just how much you need this."

Your body trembles violently, your muscles tensing as the climax rips through you. You can't hold back the moan that escapes around his thumb, your entire being consumed by the intensity of the release that you've desperately fought off for so long. Tom's grip on your jaw tightens, keeping you in place, ensuring you can't escape the exquisite torment he's orchestrated.

"There it is," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Perfectly broken, just for me."

Your eyes are squeezed shut so tightly it's almost painful, his thumb buried in your mouth muffling any sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape. The evidence of your desire pools between your thighs, your embarrassment stripping you raw as you slowly begin to return to reality, the spell gradually losing its grip around you.

You struggle to find your breath, your thoughts, your sanity, but Tom doesn't grant you much reprieve before he's tugging your head back towards his, forcing you to focus on him.

"You should see yourself." He withdraws his thumb from your mouth, trailing the remnants of saliva over your cheek as he assesses you. "You're a vision."

You try to summon the strength to argue, to reclaim some semblance of defiance, but the attempt dies in your throat, unable to comprehend the fact that those words sounded like a fucking compliment. Your body is trembling with the aftershocks of your climax, and you can only manage a soft whimper. He looks at you as if you are his masterpiece, perfectly crafted and beautifully ruined.

"Remember this, little snake," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Remember how easily I can break you. How much you crave it."

You exhale slowly as you feel the charm dissipate, the carpet settling back into its rightful place at your feet. Tom's hand falls away from your face, but the tension between you remains palpable, neither of you daring to make a move.

"And as for the book," he adds, his eyes flashing to the bookshelf behind you, the one home to the Occlumency text you borrowed. "You may want to keep it. You're not nearly as skilled as you think you are."

And with that, he smooths out his uniform and strides past you without a second glance.

thank you to my babies @doremimosasol and @pizzaapeteer for proofreading this. means the world to me🖤

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minniesmutt · 7 months ago

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☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: SET IN 2010S, COLLEGE AU, POPULAR!LINO, PHOTOGRAPHER!READER, SWITCH!LEE KNOW, SWITCH!READER, NO AGE IS GIVEN BUT THEY ARE WRITTEN TO BE IN THEIR JUNIOR AND SENIOR YEAR, ALCOHOL, OVERTHINKING, ANXIETY, HINTED INSECURITIES BUT NOTHING IS DESCRIBED, FOOD, ASS GRABBING, PET NAMES, BITING, ORAL (F. REC), MUTUAL MASTURBATION, BOOB PLAY, MARKING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CUMSHOT, PHOTOS, PROTECTED SEX, SLIGHT OVER STIM, ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE ☾ ━━━ WC: 8.4K ☾ ━━━ COMMISSIONED WORK! ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

Accepted. One of the best things Y/n had read in a long time. Getting accepted into her top choice. She had applied on a whim, not thinking she would get in. When the letter came she was sure she was rejected. Especially since the art program was fairly good at the school and some had told her it was harder to get into. But here she was two years later. Now in her junior year and one of the top students in the program. Even if that meant sacrificing her social life for it.

The extent of Y/n’s interactions with her schoolmates was limited to projects. Pairing up with a couple of people in class and photographing the other majors with their permission. The campus itself was the perfect backdrop for every photo. Even out of class, she was photographing everything, getting people in the background too, just wanting to document the experience to show her family when she visited them.

Adjusting to not living with her family was a weird experience. Her family called and texted her every day for the first few months of her freshman year. Just making sure she was settling in alright. She wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, keeping to herself. So it was natural for her family to worry about her being on her own. Was it anxiety-inducing at first? Yes. But she’d settled in pretty well after a while.

College parties were never really her thing either. She’d focused on her projects and classes and voluntarily chose to miss other aspects of her college experience. Even with her family telling her it was okay to post once in a while. Parties, dating, making friends, all that she put aside.

But there was always a bug that crawled out of the woodwork and bit. And this one had to be around Halloween. Hyunjin— someone she was acquainted with from their sharing school art program — had invited her to his housemate's Halloween party. Probably since he was inviting everyone else in the class and didn’t want her to feel excluded.

At the time she just offered him a smile and said okay. Not planning on going at the time, maybe just staying in and watching horror movies. Her usual plans always seemed to work but for some reason, she decided to go. Maybe make a few friends too.

Y/n managed to find a costume that wasn’t super skimpy but was still cute enough to pass. She knew no one really took the holiday seriously in their early adult years and didn’t want to stand out too much. She got dressed the night of the party and walked down to the house the party was at. It wasn’t too far from the campus dormitories. Some people were out in front of the house whenever she walked up.

Anxiety about walking into a new place filled her. Especially with how packed it was. All the bodies just made the room even more hot too. She weaved her way through her crowd of drunk college students, not trying to be rude or anything. The bass from the speakers thumped against her skull as she made her way to the kitchen. Maybe a drink would calm her nerves a bit.

She managed to break free from the bodies and get to the alcohol. Red cups thrown about on the counter. She found the clean stack and searched for liquor and mixers. Debating the large variety the house had.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice showed over the music

She tore her gaze away from the alcohol and was met with a fit about her age. She had zero clue who he was in all honesty.

“No, just debating what sounds good right now,” She replied, still having to yell over the music

“I’m Jisung,” the guy introduced himself, holding his hand out to her

“I’m Y/n,” she shook his hand and ordered a small smile. Now she kind of knew one person here.

“I haven’t seen you around before.”

“This is not really my scene,” Y/n laughed as she grabbed a bottle of tequila. “I usually just keep to myself.”

“I feel it. This whole party was honestly my roommate's idea. I can’t escape if I wanted to,” Jisung laughed. “What’s your major?”

“I’m an art major, focusing on photography,” Y/n told him

“That’s cool! I’m a music major.”

It felt nice having someone to talk to here. Y/n began wondering what she was missing out on the last couple of years. She and Jisung talked for a few more moments till Jisung got dragged off and promised to come back in a few minutes. Y/n just nodded and sipped her drink. She stood off to the side, out of other people’s way. Waiting for her new friend to come back. She eventually started wandering through the party. Getting stopped and made some small talk with her classmates, making her way back to the kitchen for another drink when she finished hers. A couple more times throughout the night she talked to Jisung again and met a couple of his friends— Felix and Chan.

She rarely was ever drunk. She had a drink here and there. Had one or two when she went out with family members for dinner or something. Maybe it was the fact it did help ease her anxiety about the whole situation a bit. She felt more outgoing in the moment. Especially when she saw someone she had a small crush on.

Minho was popular— not that he wanted to be. He was very humble about his popularity. He was ninety percent sure it was because of his looks and maybe his skill as a dancer. All night— didn’t matter if he was talking with his friends or not— he’d been having drunk girls try and get at him. He was used to it but their level of intoxicity and their very outgoing way of trying to get him to bed was annoying him. He’d be happy if he could lock himself in his room for the night.

But here he was, talking with Changbin as yet another girl was approaching both of them. He could barely hear her over the music anyway but he mostly tuned out what he could. Telling his friend he was going to get another drink and then walking off. Not giving the drunk girl a chance to follow him.

Minho weaved his way through the crowd. Weaving between bodies since no one knew how to keep a path clear for others. Accidentally pumped a bit too hard into one girl as a guy took a step back into him.

“Sorry,” Minho said to the girl, having wrapped an arm around her so she didn’t fall. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Y/n said, suddenly every bit of her introverted self coming out again.

“You sure?” Minho asked

“Yes. Sorry!” Y/n replied, face feeling hot as his arm fell from her side, “I’m—”

She couldn’t do much to introduce herself when Minho was already walking off. She sighed and sipped her drink. Maybe a couple more drinks and she could try again. Maybe she should just save herself the embarrassment and go home. She could tell he wasn’t in the mood even if she had a few drinks in her system.

“Why the sad face?” Jisung’s voice came from next to her. Scaring her a bit

“Party is starting to be too much,” Y/n replied

“Hang here. I’ll grab you some water,” Jisung told her.

“Thanks…” Y/n said as he went off to the kitchen after grabbing her cup of alcohol from her.

Y/n stood in her spot, waiting for her new friend to come back. Jisung came back after a few minutes and handed her a bottle of water, opening the cap for her and handing it to her.

“Want to get some air too? I know it’s hot in here.”

“Yes please,” Y/n said and sipped the cold water.

Jisung led her out to the front yard and sat with her on a couple of unoccupied chairs. The cold air felt good after being in a stuffy house for so long. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Y/n smiled

“No problem. I know it can all be too much sometimes,” Jisung replied. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you more. I can get home by myself. I live on campus anyways.”

“I’m not letting you walk back to campus this late!” Jisung protested, “Let me find one of my friends and let them know where I’m going.”

Before Y/n could say anything else, Jisung had already disappeared back into the house. She felt bad just getting up and leaving like she had originally planned. Instead, she patiently waited and sipped her water. Staying to get cold in the material of the costume.

Jisung came out of the house a few moments later. He helped her up and the two started walking down the street together. Y/n wrapped her arms around her to provide warmth from the autumn air.

“Are you cold?” Jisung asked

“I’ll be fine. It’s a short walk to the campus dormitory.”

“I should have grabbed a jacket when I went inside.”

“It’s fine. You walking me back is more than enough.”

The walk was mostly silent. The occasional talk about their classes and their day-to-day lives filled the night.

“Wait. You’ve been here for two years and haven’t made a single friend?” Jisung asked

“I didn’t have time to socialize. I honestly wasn’t planning to go to the party anyways…”

“Well, we’re friends now! Now you have one. Though I’m sure Felix considers you a friend. Even if you guys had one conversation tonight, he’ll still count it! And don’t you and Hyunjin in the art program together?”

“Yeah. I don’t really talk to people. I just do my work and if I'm in a group protection I'm still pretty quiet. Though I’m sure I��ve photographed everyone on campus at some point or another.”

“Ooh! You should show me your photos sometime! I want to see your work!” Jisung rambled

It felt nice to have somewhat of a friend now. Jisung made sure to walk her up to her dorm room and they two exchanged numbers as well before he started his walk back home and Y/n went into her dorm. She took a shower and put on her pajamas before crawling into bed.

Y/n carried on her day-to-day life after the Halloween party. Going to class, focusing on her assignments, and taking photos in the quad. Just now Jisung seemed to be popping up randomly.

“What are you taking photos of?” Jisung asked, sneaking up behind her

“Jesus!” Y/n half-yelled

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you,” He apologized

“It’s fine. Just not used to it.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just taking photos. I like capturing the campus scenery.” Y/n shrugged

“Can I see?”

“Sure…” Y/n hadn’t shown anyone except her teachers her photos before.

Y/n opened her camera’s library and turned the screen to him. Jisung took the camera from her hands and scrolled through the photos.

“I’m not a professional and barely know the first thing about pro photography but these are great!” Jisung complimented

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled, feeling proud of her work at that moment

“Oh! You have some of the dance crew!”

“Yeah. I joined the school paper on a whim this year and they have me photographing sports…”

“That’s why Felix said he recognized you at the party. Oh, there he is!”

Jisung spent the next few moments trying to find all the photos she had taken of his friend in her camera. “You even got good photos of Minho.”

“You know Minho?”

“Yeah. We share a room at the house.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide for a moment as she processed the information. She had somehow befriended one of her crush’s friends, let alone his roommate. Jisung seemed oblivious to her reaction. He handed her camera back to her with a smile. “You should come to my music group’s next performance and take photos of us! I’m sure Chan and Changbin would love it too!”

“Yeah. Just let me know when,” Y/n smiled

“I’ll text you! I’ve got to run to class before I’m late!”

Jisung took off before she could do anything. She just agreed to whatever he said, not fully processing it. She shook her head and looked at the time. She was done with her classes for the day but wasn’t quite ready to go back to her dorm. She sighed and went to the library to study for some of her classes.

She sat quietly at one of the library tables. Textbooks open as she scanned through and wrote down the important information she needed for her class. Her headphones were in as she listened to her music. The background noise helping keep her focused on her work.

Minho was also stuck in the library. Working on some homework. Anything was better than doing said work at home with seven other people to interrupt his peace. The campus library had been his safe space since he started and decided to get a house with his seven friends. Now he was in his last year of college and could get away from all this soon.

He wasn’t getting away from Jisung though. Even in the quiet library, he wasn’t safe from his best friend.

“There you are,” Jisung quietly said and took a seat next to his friend.

“I need a better hiding spot,” Minho sarcastically told his friend

“You’re in a better mood.”

“I’m not getting hounded today.”

“Explains a lot.” Jisung shrugged and took out his homework

The two fell into silence until Jisung became a bit bored and poked his friend. It was soon stopped by a glare and a quick apology. The younger one laid his head on the table and then looked around the library. “Do you know Y/n?” Jisung suddenly asked

“Who?” Minho asked

“She’s in the school paper. She’s photographed the dance team. Figured you might have met her, Felix has.”

“Are you comparing me to Felix?” Minho asked

“No, but I was curious. She doesn’t have many friends. I invited her to the next 3RACHA performance.”

“You’re trying to get her more friends, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been the kid with no friends before so I kind of feel bad.”

“I remember when you were trying to fight everyone in the house for the smallest things.”

“I’m a changed man.”

“Because of Chan.”

Jisung didn’t disagree with him as Minho finished up his homework. Jisung had given up on finishing his and took out his phone. Replying to some text messages he had. Y/n was one of the people he had texted.

Jisung: 3Racha has a performance this weekend! It’s at Miroh!

Y/n looked at the text message on her screen. She figured out what Jisung was attempting to do since the Halloween party and claimed they were friends. She was grateful he was trying to break her out of her shell and she couldn’t exactly come up with an excuse either. She had also processed that he had asked her to photograph them at their performance earlier in the day. And she agreed to it.

Y/n: Where’s that at? :’( Jisung: You haven’t been to Miroh before?? Y/n: No. I don’t have friends and I’m terrified of going places by myself Jisung: How about I pick you up then? You can ride with me and my friends then hang out with them while I’m up on stage Y/n: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude… Jisung: Yeah! The guys won’t mind. Oh! Since you’re in the library, come over and meet Minho! He’ll be there too so you won’t just have Felix when me, chan and changbin are on stage Y/n: How do you know I’m in the library?? Jisung: I came in to annoy Minho and try and do homework and saw you when I walked in. You had your headphones on so I didn’t say anything Y/n: oh

Y/n had finished her work and was just packing up when she saw the message from Jisung. She finished packing her things up when she looked around for Jisung. Seeing him standing at a table with Minho. After the party and her run-in with the dancer, she wasn’t hopeful it would go well. She could barely even think of just getting up and leaving when the music major spotted her and made his way over to her. His friend following not far behind

“Did you just finish?” Jisung asked her

“Yeah. Did you even work or just talk to people?”

“Bit of both,” Jisung shrugged as the dancer walked up behind him, “This is Minho. Min, this is Y/n.”

“Hi,” Y/n timidly said

“Hey,” Minho greeted back

Minho recognized her from the Halloween party. He had seen her in the dance studio with a camera a couple of times. He just never knew her name.

The trio walked out of the library together and Y/n said goodbye to the two and made her way back to her dorm hall. The two boys went off to head back to their home. Jisung filled in Minho that they were picking up Y/n and giving her a ride to Miroh over the weekend. The older man nodded in agreement.

When the day of the performance came Y/n offered to meet Jisung at his house so it was one less stop for the group. At first, Jisung protested on her walking down but she told him she was already on her way down. She was a bit nervous about the whole outing so the walk helped clear her head a bit. By the time she got to the house the group was outside already, Jisung introduced her to everyone she didn’t know yet before the group went back to their previous discussion of the car assignments, and how they were getting nine people there.

“Take three cars, three people in each car,” Chan said which the guys all seemed to agree with

It was decided Chan, Minho, and Hyunjin would drive/be DDs for the group. Seungmin and Changbin rode with Chan. Jeongin and Felix took Hyunjin’s car while Han and Y/n were with Minho. Y/n took the backseat of the car while Minho and Jisung were in the front. The bar was about a twenty-minute drive from the house. Y/n stayed pretty quiet in the back of the car while music played. The two friends in the front talked a little and tried including Y/n. She appreciated it and it helped her nerves a little till they finally got to the bar.

The group managed to find parking spots pretty close together and headed into the bar. The rap group still had some time before they had to perform. A few of the guys took orders and grabbed some drinks from the bar while the others found a couple of tables and pushed them together. Minho had pulled a seat out for Y/n and motioned for her to sit. Hesitantly she sat down with the rest of the group.

The performers themselves talked about their performance as the rest of the group came back with drinks. Making sure everyone got the right drink. Everyone settled in with their drinks and waited for the performance to start.

Y/n felt out of place amongst the friends, even when they did include her in the conversation. Her life just seemed boring compared to the others. They all had some interesting lives or things that were big going on with their majors. 3Racha was about to perform, the dance members— Minho, Felix, and Hyunjin (whom she learned only minored in the art program and was a dance major)— had some competitions for the school and outside of the school coming up. Seungmin— a law major— had won another debate and Jeongin— an education major— was going to be working at a daycare over the summer. Y/n felt like she had nothing going on. Just some photos no one would probably look at.

As soon as the boys were called to the stage, Y/n grabbed her camera from her bag and made sure all her settings were good. “Are you going up to the stage?” Minho asked next to her

“Yeah. If it’s not too crowded,” Y/n said

“Do you want me to go with you?” Minho questioned

“Oh! We should all go up!” Felix suggested

“They can feel our support from back here,” Seungmin interjected

“Then stay here,” Hyunjin said

Jeongin and Seungmin stayed at the tables while she, Felix, Minho, and Hyunjin went up to the stage. Felix and Hyunjin mainly went to be the hype men for their friends while Minho stayed close to Y/n so no one got in the way of the photos. Y/n felt more anxious with Minho standing close by. She had barely talked to him since his demeanor at the Halloween party.

She did her best not to let it get to her as she got her photos. She didn’t know what to expect from the music group. She had heard the name 3Racha before around campus but seeing them perform was a different scenario. She did enjoy the music and got some pretty good shots from the performance. She only saw how good they were when she sat back at the table after the show.

The group congratulated them on the show. Jisung asked to see the photos as soon as she sat down with them. Y/n let him go through them and show them around the table. She felt flustered when everyone gave her props for her work, even though it wasn’t edited yet.

The group stayed for a few more hours at the bar, enjoying the other performances and some drinks. They all ended up calling it a night. Minho and Jisung took Y/n back to the campus dorms before going back to their home

“What do you think of Y/n?” Jisung asked his roommate on the drive back

“I don’t think she likes me very much,” Minho answered

“You probably scare her.”

“You know, one day you might not wake up.”

Minho knew she was shy from what Jisung had told him and what he had observed. He knew he could be a little intimidating at times but he felt bad he had given her that impression.

Jisung on the other hand was curious. Pulling his phone from his pocket and texting his new friend.

Jisung: Do you like Minho? Y/n: What?? Jisung: Like as a friend. He thinks you’re scared of him Y/n: oh Yeah? Idk? Jisung: ?? Y/n: He bumped into me at the Halloween party before you got me water. He seemed kind of annoyed when I went to introduce myself so I didn’t think he liked me very much… Which I don’t expect him to. Ik he’s popular and there are more interesting people than me Jisung: oh, he was annoyed the whole party. I promise it wasn’t bc of you. If anything it was all the drunk girls trying to sleep with him Y/n: idk :( I had a few drinks too… maybe he just saw another drunk girl then… Jisung: you were not THAT drunk. You could still walk and form words lol Y/n: I still think he doesn’t like me very much Jisung: and he thinks you don’t like him very much Y/n: I don’t! He just makes me a bit nervous Jisung: oh, you like like min ;) Y/n: so does every girl on campus :( I’m not special

Jisung knew something would come about. If someone didn’t like Minho, he didn’t care much. So Jisung knew his friends' thoughts and feelings the moment he said that Y/n didn’t seem to like him very much. He didn’t that night plotting.

No matter how much plotting he did, he knew his friends were idiots. He’d do everything but lock them in a room together. He told the rest of the house about Y/n’s lack of friends and what he suspected was anxiety about making them but he wasn’t sure.

The group always offered to include her in things and sometimes she did accept the offers. Over time she started to feel like more of a friend to them and less of an intrusion. She still kept quiet about ninety percent of the time though.

She’d given 3Racha the photos she had taken, fully edited, and let them do what they wanted with them. Jisung told her a lot of people on campus loved the photos when they put them on their social media which gave her somewhat of an ego for a few moments.

Minho didn’t know exactly what Jisung was plotting but he did know his friend had been acting differently since the day after their performance. He could corner him and ask but he couldn’t complain too much now.

He’d refuse to admit it to anyone— except maybe Chan — but he was glad Jisung was bringing Y/n around more. He thought she was cute when his younger friend had officially introduced them in the library. He had barely spared her much of a glance at the party. Maybe if he did she wouldn’t be too scared of him. But now, after a few months, that dislike or whatever was disappearing.

He’d catch her around campus and go out of his way to say hi and ask her about her day. Minho appreciated that she didn’t try and flirt with him like the rest of the girls on campus. He could be himself.

Currently, he was in the school's quad with her. He spotted her looking at her camera and chose to keep her company.

“What are you taking photos of?” He asked as he walked up and took a seat next to her on the bench

Y/n offered him a smile, “Whatever interests me today.”

“So the usual?” he joked

“Pretty much.” Y/n agreed

Minho smiled as she got up and stepped a few feet away, spotting something to photograph. Minho took out his phone after a few moments and responded to a few messages he had disregarded earlier. Y/n was taking photos of some of the flowers that were planted. She turned around once she snapped a few and looked at Minho.

He seemed ignorant to her turning around and the sun was hitting all his angles perfectly. She focused her lens on him and snapped a couple of photos. Slowly Minho looked up at her, hearing the camera shutter as she took the photos.

“When did I become your model?” Minho asked as she pulled away from the viewfinder

“You’ve been my model before,” Y/n defended

“I don’t think I’m dancing right now,” Minho told her

“No, but it was a good photo opportunity.”

“Let me see.”

Y/n walked back to him and handed him the camera. Minho took the camera and looked through the photos she had taken of him before getting out of the photos and going back to the camera. He sat up, held up the viewfinder, and snapped a photo before Y/n realized what he was doing. Once she processed it while he snapped a few more, she moved to grab the camera from him.

“Hey!” Y/n said grabbing her camera.

Minho chuckled as she took her seat back next to him. “Let me see my work,” he said between laughs

“No,” Y/n said as she went to look over at the photos. Minho just looked over her shoulder before she could delete the photos.

“I did a good job,” Minho said. “You look good too. Very photographic.”

“Don’t lie,” Y/n grumbled as she deleted the photos and tried to hide her flushed face from him

“I’m not lying,” Minho told her. “You look good. In and out of the photos.”

Y/n hesitated to delete the last photo. Minho did take a good photo of her. She couldn’t deny that.

“What are you doing later?” Minho asked, watching her hesitate, and stopped looking over her shoulder.

“Probably nothing. Maybe homework,” Y/n answered and shut her camera off. Packing it up in her camera bag

“Do you want to get takeout and come over instead? I can kick Ji out.”

Y/n turned to look at him. Ninety-nine percent sure she was hallucinating what he just said. “Huh?” she asked

“Do you want to come over after you’re last class? Order food or I can cook,” Minho repeated

“I— just us?”

“I mean, I’m sure someone else will be at the house but ideally, yeah. Just us.”

“Like, like a date?” Y/n asked, scared but hopeful at the same time

“Yeah.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re out of my league?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Minho smirked, “Come over for dinner. I’ll kick the others out of the house.”

“O-okay,” Y/n agreed

“When’s your last class?”

“I don’t have any more classes. I have all morning classes.”

“Come on. We can go shopping for ingredients.” Minho stood and adjusted the bag on his shoulder

“I don’t want to make you cook,” Y/n closed up her bag and stood with him, gathering the rest of her things.

“I like cooking. Come on,” Minho said

Y/n walked with him to the parking lot. Minho opened the door for her before getting in his side of the car. The two drove down to the supermarket while Minho questioned her on what she wanted to eat.

She was wondering why Lee Minho would ask her out. Or offer to cook for her. Her brain seemed to just go into autopilot for responses. In the store, she stayed close to the dancer. She was trying to stay out of other people’s way and helping with grabbing ingredients. Even if he protested she didn’t need to. It was the least she could do.

When they checked out, Y/n felt more at ease as they drove back to the house. Minho had made sure to text his friends to either not corner them or not come home. They even seemed a bit shocked at this development but ultimately Chan offered to take the other six out for dinner which the younger ones graciously accepted.

“Do you want any help?” Y/n asked after they— mostly Minho— carried in their shopping bags from the car and set them on the counter.

“No. I got it covered,” Minho said and took his bag to his room. Y/n quietly sat at the bar and took out the homework she had planned to do.

Minho came back after a few moments to find her doing the work he took her away from. He smiled to himself as he got to work. Washing his hands and starting to cook. He would occasionally look over at her to check on her and ask her how her work was going.

Y/n was honestly barely focusing on her work— she’d done most of it earlier anyway. She was watching Minho cook. He seemed a natural in the kitchen. Moved with ease, just like he was dancing.

“How come you didn’t go to culinary school?” Y/n asked

“Dance is what I’m passionate about. Cooking is just something I like doing for my friends. Plus I’m good at it.”

“How good?” Y/n asked

“You’ll see,” Minho smiled back at her, “Finish your homework. You won’t graduate if you don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Y/n told him

“Homework.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes and turned back to her homework while he cooked. Both taking moments to watch the other one work. Y/n finished up her last boy off work and put away her things. Patiently waiting for Minho to finish, not knowing what to do now.

She just admired him working. He moved around the kitchen with ease, even when he plated the food. Y/n smiled as he set the food in front of her and thanked him. Minho smiled and sat down next to her at the bar. Y/n took a bite of the food and looked at him. “You should be a chef!” Y/n exclaimed

Minho just smiled as he started eating. Y/n enjoyed probably the best meal she had had since she left home for college. She felt more relaxed than ever around Minho. She had forgotten for a moment that this was technically a date. It just felt natural to hang out with him now. Even if he didn’t give her the best impression when they had first met. He was trying now even if he didn’t know at first.

Y/n did find it weird— being the best word she could use to describe the feeling— when one of the more popular guys that everyone seemed to like was with her during their free time. They weren’t official but they were together often. Whether it was by themselves or with the rest of their friends. The rest of Minho’s housemates all knew before they did things would be official eventually.

“Did I scare you when we first met?” Minho asked her as they were lying in her dorm bed, her roommate gone for the weekend.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked

“You just seemed scared of me when Ji introduced us,” Minho explained

“You didn’t scare me,” Y/n said, cuddling into him. Winter was setting in now and he had become her personal heater. “Just when you bumped into me at the Halloween party you seemed annoyed when I tried talking to you…”

“That was you?” Minho asked

“Yeah…”

“I was annoyed that night but not because of you,” Minho told her, wrapping his arms around her tighter.

“I don’t blame you. I’m pretty boring…”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m an art major Min. It’s not really a useful career. Sometimes I wonder why you talk to me or even ask me on dates to begin with.”

“Because I like being around you. You’re easy to be around and I like your creativity.”

“You don’t want someone more in your league? Prettier? Cooler?”

“You’re prettier and cooler than you give yourself credit for,” Minho told her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’d be happy to call you my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?!” Y/n’s head shot up and looked at him

“Yeah. I want you to be my girlfriend.” Minho chuckled

Y/n’s face flushed. She had guessed it would eventually get to here but now that the words had left his lips she was at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Y/n nodded her head as Minho laughed. Resting his head on her forehead, “Is that a yes to being my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Y/n quietly said.

Minho smiled and placed a peck on her lips. The kiss was too fast for Y/n. She watched her boyfriend’s reaction to him pulling away then pressed another kiss to her lips. Giving her time to return the affection.

Y/n moved her lips with his before he pulled away again. “You’re a good kisser kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“Yeah. My kitten.”

Minho wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her close to his chest. That’s how they stayed for the weekend. Cuddled up together and only pulled away to use the bathroom or get food. Y/n felt like she was on cloud nine with Minho. He walked her to her classes when he had the time and made her any food she asked for. Even when he joked and appeared he didn’t want to. He was always doing things for her. And Y/n never felt happier in the last month of them being together.

“Want to spend the night this weekend ?” Minho asked his girlfriend after walking her to her last class, “Ji’s going to his parent’s house for the weekend so I don’t have to kick him out.”

“The others won’t mind?” Y/n asked

“No. As long as you don’t mind the guys being obnoxiously loud while we’re locked in my room avoiding them,” Minho smiled

“Okay,” Y/n smiled back

“I’ll see you after class,” Minho told her and picked her lips.

Y/n watched her boyfriend walk down the hallway to his class and entered her own. Now, a little too excited for her class to end. She was ready to bolt out of her class as they were dismissed. She tried giving her boyfriend time to get back to her classroom but she still managed to get out before him.

She waited outside her class for him. Leaning against the wall till he snuck up to her and wrapped his kissed her forehead. Y/n looked at her boyfriend, “Hi.”

“Hey. How was class?” He asked as he took her hand. Heading to her dorm so she could grab a few things before heading down to the house.

Minho sat in her desk chair while she packed a small bag, looking at her photos on her wall. A thought crossed his mind as he picked up her smaller digital camera.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked

Minho smiled at her and took a quick photo of her packing her bag. Y/n looked over at him as she heard the shutter click. “Min.”

“I didn’t do it,” Minho told her and took another photo of her.

“I’m never going to win with you, am I?”

“No.”

Y/n shook her head and finished packing her bag. Having to drag her boyfriend from her dorm and to the car. Minho put her things in the backseat and then drove them to his home. Some of the guys were home when they arrived. Y/n said hi to them as Minho pulled her up the stairs to his room. Y/n set her bag down at the foot of his bed as the dancer sat on his bed, pulling her to him and laying back with her.

“Hungry at all?” Minho asked

“No. My boyfriend keeps me nice and full,” Y/n told him as she wrapped her arms around him. Minho smiled and turned on the TV he and Jisung had in their room. Turning on a show the two had talked about watching, casually laying in the bed till Jisung came in to grab something.

“Oh good, you guys aren’t doing anything weird,” Jisung teased as he opened the door

Y/n hid her face in her boyfriend’s chest as Minho glared at his roommate. Y/n focused on the TV as Jisung packed a bag and then said goodbye to the couple, shutting the door behind him.

“Embarrassed kitten?” Minho asked

“A little. What if Ji did walk in while we were doing something? Not that we have done anything but…”

“If we were I would have locked the door. I wouldn’t put you in that position. Have you thought about going further?” Minho explained

“Yeah…”

Minho sat up with her, in a better position to have a more serious conversation. Y/n felt shy about the topic of sex. She didn’t have much experience and she only guessed Minho had more than her. “Look at me, babe?” Minho asked

Y/n hesitantly made eye contact with him for the duration of their conversation. The couple spent maybe an hour talking about their history— she was right about Minho having more experience than her— and protection. Minho made sure Y/n felt completely comfortable as they talked about the next steps in their relationship. Only having gone as far as a few heated make-out sessions. Minho never rushed her with anything which just made her fall for him more.

Maybe that comfort was how the bedroom door ended up locked and Minho was gripping her ass over her jeans while she was sitting on his lap, both their tongues fighting for dominance. Both of them moaned as Y/n gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. Minho used his grip on her backside to pull her closer to him, almost tipping them back on the bed. The dancer chuckled when she made a surprised noise before pulling away and attaching his lips to her neck.

“Min,” Y/n breathed out, fingers dragging up into his hair more.

“Look so good on my lap kitten,” Minho said as his lips roamed all over her neck, biting a couple of patches of skin lightly

Y/n bucked her hips against him when he did nibble on her skin. The slight pinch shot straight to her core. The roll of her hold made the male below her groan and she could feel something poking her from below.

Seconds later Minho had her on her back and kissed down her body. His hands moved to take hold of the low waistband of her jeans. “Can I?” Minho asked

“Please,” Y/n said, lifting her hips for him

Minho smiled and unbuttoned her pants, pulling the fabric down and tossing it to the side. Y/n pressed her thighs together, suddenly a little embarrassed being half-naked in front of him. Minho noticed and placed a kiss on each of her thighs and her hips, gently pulling her legs apart before settling between them. Y/n watched as he put her legs over his shoulders and pressed a few kisses to her clothed core. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched her boyfriend kiss and lick her through the fabric before he pulled away and pulled the fabric off her legs, tossing them to the floor with her bottoms.

Minho readjusted them, grabbing her hands and intertwining their fingers. “Anyone ever take care of you, kitten?”

“No…” Y/n admitted as he pressed a kiss to her clit

Minho hummed then licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, wrapping his lips around the bud. Y/n moaned as he sucked on the little bud. She gripped his hands as he switched between sucking on her clit and licking the bud with his tongue. Y/n gasped when she felt his tongue dip into her, back arching off his mattress as he moved the muscle in and out of her.

His hands left her and grabbed the tops of her thighs. Holding her legs over his shoulders as he ate her out. Y/n grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand, making him moan into her. Y/n had to cover her mouth so none of the others would hear her. It got harder to hide them as the knot in her stomach kept tightening and tightening until it snapped.

The photographer gasped as her hips rocked against his face. Minho held her against him as he helped her through the high. Not stopping till he had her cleaned up and her grip on his hair loosened. He pulled away, put her legs back on the bed, and sat up on his knees. Wrong off any excess liquid with the back of his hand.

Y/n caught her breath again as Minho threw off his t-shirt letting it join her bottoms on the ground. Y/n took in the sight up his upper torso, just by his arms she knew her boyfriend was toned but seeing his chest and abs, whew.

“What you staring at kitten?” Minho teased as he crawled over her, caging her in with his arms.

“My hot boyfriend,” Y/n responded as she ran her fingers down his front and hooked them around his belt.

“Not so shy anymore,” Minho smiled as he leaned down to kiss her neck again.

Y/n hummed as she undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then unbuttoning his jeans. Meanwhile, Minho used one hand to push her shirt up. The two worked as best they could undressing each other. Once they finally got the rest of their clothes off and onto the floor, Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock. Minho moaned as she slowly stroked him, one hand of his having taken hold of her breasts. Groping the flesh as his lips worked their way down to the other.

Minho wasn’t trying to hide his moans like Y/n was. He’d heard all his friends before and he was sure they had heard him before so none of it mattered to him. But knowing his girlfriend, he tried not to be too loud and embarrass her. Not that any of the guys would tease them if they knew what was good for them.

His hand that was on her boob moved down and his thumb ran over her sensitive clit. His head came up from her chest just in time to see her tilt her head back in pleasure. Minho leaned into her neck and kissed the skin, making sure to leave his mark on her. Y/n moaned as he sucked on her skin while he circled her clit. Their stroke paces fell in sync, one would pick up their speed and then the other would follow suit.

Y/n managed to pull his lips from her neck up to her mouth. Kissing him to drown out her moans as her hips rocked against his hand. Minho matched her strokes with his hips. Thrusting into her hand as his orgasm approached. Her grip tightened as her second high approached her, taking over her body seconds later. Minho thrusted into her hand as he worked her through her high. His cum shot onto her lower stomach as she came down from her second high.

“Sorry,” Mino apologized as he came down from his orgasm

“‘S okay,” Y/n told him. “It was hot.”

Minho hummed as he sat up, looking down at her. “You look good with my cum on you.”

“Should take a picture,” Y/n said

“Want me to?” Minho questioned

“Camera’s in my bag.”

Minho moved and grabbed her bag from the foot of his bed, quickly finding her camera and getting back in his position. Her legs rested over his thighs as he pointed the camera lens down at her stomach. Catching her wet cunt as well and his dick laying between her legs. Y/n watched the flash go off before he pulled the camera away from his face. Minho leaned down and pecked her lips.

“Want to keep going, kitten?” Minho asked

“Yes,” Y/n answered. “Can I… ride you?” She asked as he leaned over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom.

“My kitty wants to ride me?” He teased as he closed the drawer.

“Please…”

Minho didn’t say anything before flipping their position. He placed her on his lower stomach and handed her the condom. Y/n took the foil from his hand and sat up on her knees. She scooted back a bit as she opened the wrapper and took out the rubber. Y/n jerked her boyfriend’s dick again until he was erect again, then slid on the rubber.

Minho held her hips as she positioned herself above him. She kept his cock steady till the tip was inside her. Moaning as she placed her hands on his waist while she sank onto him. The dancer helped her ease down onto him. He gave her a second once he was fully inside her, keeping a hold on her hips. Y/n sat up straight and held her boyfriend’s wrists and looked down at him. She noticed the light layer of sweat that was covering his body. She found her camera on the bed and held it up to her face.

She snapped a photo of her boyfriend. Minho smiled before taking the camera from her hands. Y/n clenched around her boyfriend as he pointed the camera at her. Minho snapped a photo as she started rolling her hips back and forth. Her hands pressed to his chest to stabilize herself.

Minho took a couple of photos of her and then put the camera to the side again. The dancer planted his feet on the bed and held her hips, slowly starting to bounce her on him. Y/n used her position to lift herself so her boyfriend wasn’t doing all the work.

Minho’s hands moved back and gripped her ass as she rode him. Tilting his head back in pleasure as her walls pulsed around him. Y/n took the chance to lay on his chest and suck her own marks onto his skin. Minho happily let her do so as he lifted his hips and started thrusting into her.

Y/n moaned against his skin as he thrusted into her. Accidently biting down a little harder on his neck when his tip found the spongy spot inside her and hit it dead on.

“Fuck,” Minho moaned, wrapping his arms around her and holding her down on his chest

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled as she kissed the spot

“Don’t. Felt good,” Minho told her as his pace picked up

Y/n moaned as he aimed for the spot again. Hiding away in her boyfriend's neck as her walls clenched around him. She tried rolling her hips to keep up with his pace but she was far slower than him, though she still tried.

The knot was tightening far too quickly in her stomach this time. Each thrust felt like the next would make her cum again. She did her best to hold out but she couldn’t. Her walls spasmed around Minho’s cock. The dance held onto her as her body shook on top of him. Fucking her through the high before his took over. Burying himself into her and letting his cum fill up the rubber.

“Fuck,” both groaned as they caught their breaths

Y/n sat up and looked at her boyfriend's neck. Not realizing how many marks she had left on him — she could only imagine what hers looked like. She ran her thumb over the front of his neck before grabbing her camera again and taking a photo.

Minho chuckled at her before helping her off his cock and laying her on the bed. Y/n smiled as she watched him toss the condom then put on his boxers and leave the room. She looked over three photos they had taken before he came back with a washcloth and cleaned her up.

“Everyone’s in their rooms, wanna go take a shower?” Minho asked

“Yes please,” Y/n agreed.

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worlds-worst-ships · 15 days ago

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Do you seriously, actually ship it?

Okay. Lets talk. Because apparently some of you are defending... well... "that" (under the cut)

"He's autistic! It was a stim!"

If you genuinely think that this has ANYTHING to do with autism, you are an objectively stupid person. Like, your brain is so fucking smooth, it puts the surface of freshly tempered glass to shame. You're a barely functional reprobate with subhuman intelligence who has no idea how to form thoughts so you let a 50 year old billionaire who spends too much time on his phone decide your thought process for you.

"He was throwing his heart out to the crowd!"

Now, I don't really play baseball, basketball, netball, or any sport where you throw anything other than sometimes darts, but... is that how you throw? You perfectly extend your arm at that angle? Twice? After spending years posting tweets that very much align with Nazi viewpoints? Do you throw a pitch in baseball and scream SIEG HEIL as the ball hurtles towards your opponent? No. Stop being a fucking idiot. This was deliberate. He did it twice.

"He's autistic! He doesn't know better!"

Please comment if you actually think this so I can personally call you a stupid cunt and block you. We absolutely do know better. Autism and Nazism aren't mutually exclusive.

"You're inhibiting his free speech!"

1st amendment only applies to censorship from government positions of power, which I am not, as should be obvious from the fact that I have no power to censor him. Though I shouldn't have to explain that.

"Well, he's gonna get away with it so stop being so sensitive!"

Yes. He is. But that's not a flex, that's A FUCKING MASSIVE PROBLEM. Call me sensitive if you want, but absolutely every single one of you should be offended by this. Did you pay attention in history class, or were you too tired after a long night of being fucking railed raw and bone dry by propaganda on Twitter? Moron.

"Well, he's rich and you're not, so there!"

Yep. Got me there. He's rich, and I'm not. Yknow, Hitler and a lot of Nazi officers were pretty minted too. So was Epstein, King Leopold, Stalin, Jimmy Saville, every MP currently serving in parliament... but sure, they're great people because they're rich, right?

"You're just a stupid offended libtard!"

Google "The Holocaust".

"Well, you're still using his app!"

His app? You mean the one he bought, then fucking ruined because he has no idea how to run it, right? And you because its basically impossible to find mutuals as a vtuber without it, you knew that, right? "His" app, please, you probably think Ronald McDonald makes your burger when you order McDonalds, you moron.

"If we punish Elon for this, then that's a violation of the first amendment!"

You mean like banning tiktok, removing any and all talk of election rigging, then putting it back up the next day? Or maybe like deleting any criticisms of you and your nazi salutes under your recent tweets despite it blowing up everywhere else? Or does that not count because its something you agree with? Yeah. You've been cucked harder than Sneako and you don't even realize it. Elon and his government buddies are leaving your free speech rights looking like this

Aaaaanyway

I find it well and truly laughable that so many people like Elon will say all this insane shit and do all these fucking heinous things and people will defend them. Like how that gun woman who shit herself says stuff like "I'm not homophobic, I just think gay people are disgusting and that they should die" or that comedian nobody finds funny anymore spends hours whining about trans people but says he's not transphobic.

Lets all be on the same page for once and have the balls to say what we actually think. Elon got so close, but being a spineless edgelord who doesn't have the balls to just say what he thinks out loud is quite the weakness.

#crackship #rarepair #polls #shitpost #poll time #my polls #tumblr polls #shipping #shipping poll #crossover #elon musk #elongated muskrat #fuck elon #elon mask #inauguration #elections #presidential election of 2024 #dictatorship #far right

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butchreg · 1 month ago

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cg ! sevika taking care of a deer / fawn regressor !!

requested by @mrs-chonk ! request was for an unspecified arcane character so i decided on sevika. also it just said regressed character without specification so i did reader ૮ ྀིྀིྀི₍ -\./-₎ ྀིა. writing has been difficult in the past few days my brain is just Not having it but my goal was to push through the block and write one thing tonight. if you're seeing this goal accomplished tehe O-:3 arcane masterlist here , upcoming list here

you who freezes in place like a deer in headlights when sevika catches you doing something naughty. sevika who chuckles at this but won't let you completely off the hook , taking your chin in her hand so you can't avoid her gaze. "c'mon kid , what've we talked about ? no more treats until after dinner or you'll spoil your appetite." you'll "eep" shyly , and she'll let you go with a chuckle , ruffling your hair.

you're a silly little fawn , always trying to nibble at the grass when sevika takes you out to play. if it's good enough for other deer surely it's good enough for you ! sevika who stops you with a warning "ah ah ah ," offering you a crunchy baby carrot as a substitute.

you stim by stomping your hooves and head butting things with your "antlers". sevika finds this quite amusing as well as adorable , playfully daring you to head butt her and then playfully headlocking you and scruffing your head affectionately.

she buys you big stompy boots to 1. match hers and 2. because they're noisy and make better hoof - like sounds than your regular sneakers. you bleat happily , clopping around noisily.

you like to scrunch up your nose a lot , a little thing that makes you feel more deer like. sevika who notices this and can't help but smile , cooing softly at you. "got a little fawn today , huh?" you may "deer in headlights" at this too , thinking your mama hadn't noticed. you act shy but are secretly quite pleased that she knows you well enough to recognize your tells.

she'll feed you a few berries from her palm , scrunching her face up when you lick her palm clean , sure to get every last morsel. if you're still hungry you'll head butt her for more. she'll laugh at this. "greedy little thing," she'll joke but she makes sure you're never hungry.

sevika who has jinx make you an antler headband. you're so excited by it and never want to take it off ! you fuss when she makes you take it off for baths or to sleep , head butting and bleating like crazy. "c'mon now , fawnie. i just don't want your antlers getting hurt , is that something you want? you want your antlers gettin' broken?" you bleat unhappily but in the end you realize she's right... you're still NOT happy about it though >:((.

you can be pretty shy , hiding your face often and struggling to meet sevika's eyes. you are startled by loud and sudden noises , often skittering away when scared. sevika will often coax you out of hiding with a treat , some berries or a handful of granola.

you're a curious little deer often watching others with big wide eyes. you'll often try to mirror people you find interesting , especially your mama ! this always makes sevika laugh , and your cuteness earns you plenty of head pats. she'll tell you how smart you are , petting you between the antlers.

sevika's not a big fan of health food herself but you love your fruits and veggies ! she's always praising you for doing such a good job eating well. "you eat better than me kid !" she'll say , impressed. "mama's gotta eat more veggies," she'll confide in you , taking a big bite of a carrot. she makes a face as she chews which makes you giggle. you're pleased that you can help your mama with eating better just like she helps you with everything else.

"nummy !" you'll say every time she offers to make you a salad or cook you some veggies. she learns all kind of recipes to make them even more delicious. she's a good cook but stubborn when it comes to eating these healthier items. "don't see what the fuss is about," she'll shrug, taking a few bites but much preferring heartier meals. "nummy !!" you'll insist , sticking your tongue out at her.

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elliesluckycharm · 1 year ago

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don't text me, ex ellie williams one shot

sinopse: you and ellie broke up due to her commitment issues and you've been non contact until she calls.

cw: lowercase intended, swearing and alcohol use and "drunk"? sex, semi public sex, not explicit if reader is fem or masc. use of nicknames like babe and my love.

wc: 2,9k

nsfw/smut: ellie bottoms. tit play (r receiving), clit stim and pinching (e receiving), fingering (e receiving), cum eating (r)... i think thats it?

a/n: okay uh im gonna kms bc this was meant for @breathinlove but alright.

you and ellie had broken up a few months ago. you have been no contact ever since, you blocked her everywhere except her number. you told her not to contact you if she didn't need anything.

but she'd called today.

you were in bed with your best friend kamala, she noticed you suddenly sitting up.

“what?” she touches your shoulder as you look at the screen. “ellie? don't pick up, y/n” she looks at the phone over your shoulder.

“i told her to only contact me if she needs anything…” you sigh, but the phone stops ringing and you bite your lip as you look at kamala, worried expression.

“hey, if she actually needs anything she'll either call again or text.” she pats your shoulder and you nod.

ellie doesn't call again, but you get a text.

«sorry about that, hope ur okay»

“um, i guess she didn't mean to call.” you roll your eyes after texting her back with a «don't worry, hope ur okay 2», which she saw and reacted with hearts.

“girl, yes she did, she let that thing ring for ages.” kamala scoffed.

“whatever kami, let's just forget about that. she's literally with cat.”

“it's insane that she broke up with you because she ‘couldn't be in a relationship’ and ‘felt trapped’ and now she's with cat.”

“i know but well, she just couldn't be in our relationship i guess.” you chuckle and hug kamala. “why are we still talking about this shit…?”

and then you drop this subject, and it was true… ellie broke up with you along those lines. she had met you at your house and held your hand, kissed your forehead before leaving. now, she has been going out with cat. you hadn't completely moved on but what's over it's over, you didn't want any messiness.

weeks pass by, you usually see ellie at college, you both curl your lips in an awkward smile. you do it out of respect but it hurts to act like you were never close.

today wasn't any different, film class and you're sat at the back. she got in late, she sat down at the front. you noticed her and followed her with your eyes but you didn't expect her to look around to the back of the class.

you lock eyes and she stares a little before turning back, you feel uneasy. class passed by and you don't interact in any way and you decide to talk to her after class.

she gets ready to leave and you run down the classes stairs to catch her.

“ellie.” you call out reaching for her shoulder but she turns around to face you before you can.

her green eyes pierce through yours, you hadn't seen those freckles from so close in months. you blink a few times in a roll.

“um… yeah? sorry i called.” her voice is raspy and she looks awkward, as if you don't know each other.

“you let the phone ring.” you mumble, her eyebrows almost touch as she looks confused.

“yes? i'm sorry.” she takes a step back as you do the same.

“so you meant to call. it wasn't a mistake?” you ask, you sound calmer.

“yeah, i did… but i know i shouldn't have, you did the right thing by not picking up.” she looks at your lips for a second before you curl them up in a sympathetic smile.

“i was going to. thought you might have needed something.” you hold your own shoulder. “you okay?”

“no, yeah… i'm okay i was just… i don't know.” she rambles awkwardly and you chuckle. “are… you okay?”

it felt weird talking to her, but she was still the same. she toyed with her fingers nervously as she always did.

“yeah, i am.” you breathed out before straightening your back. “what did you wanna say?”

“that, i've… been” she chokes on her words, you examine ber face, letting her speak. “thinking ‘bout you.” now it's your turn to internally choke.

“you don't need to tell me that.” you bite your lip as you start walking down the starts and she does the same as everyone's leaving the classroom.

she lowers her head to face her feet as she thinks of what to say but all she says is “i know.” you turn to face her after you leave the classroom.

“i'll see you” you say, she nods and leaves as you walk towards the bathroom.

your eyes water as soon as you enter the bathroom, you let out the breath you had been involuntarily holding. you decided this meant no contact was as rough as her as on you, even worse since she decided to call you at 3pm on a random saturday. but it didn't mean anything other than that, it's hard not to talk to someone you used to talk all the time and you understood that.

when you're walking to your next class you see cat running towards ellie and jesse. she kisses both of their cheeks and you wave to them, mostly jesse, who gives you a sympathetic look and waves back. cat doesn't see you until ellie raises her hand, cat waves at you then.

you and cat were neighbors during all your childhood, she was really nice, artistic, down to earth but still had a bubbly personality. you honestly liked her, which hurt.

kamala had texted you about this party next saturday at dina's, her cousin who ‘happened’ to be jesse's long term girlfriend and ellie's best friend. you, dina and kamala had been friends since the start of college and your breakup with ellie wouldn't change that.

ellie would obviously be there, so you decided to give it more than one thought. you didn't want to see her if it made you feel so small, but you couldn't stop doing what you usually do just to avoid her.

so you decided to go. you hadn't talked to dina that much about ellie to be honest, you didn't want this to become something where people had sides to take.

you and kamala go to the party a little later than supposed, the party was already crowded. you find dina and walk up to her to hug her.

“hey dina! nice party.” you hug her excitedly and she chuckles as she pats your back.

“it's a generic one, thanks though baby” she looks at you up and down as you back away. “you look good, girl.”

“you look hot, dee.” you smile wide and she gives you a gentle push towards her drink table. “go grab a drink, you too kamala!” she calls her cousin out.

kamala starts grabbing a drink but your eyes land on ellie, who was at the corner of the room. she saw you and stepped away from the wall she was leaning on.

“is ellie here with cat?” you ask dina as ellie walks up to you. dina nods no. “really?”

“yeah, they went out a few times but ellie said they were better off as friends…its been a while already” she shrugs.

“i see.” you tense up as ellie gets closer. “hey ellie.”

“what's up?” she smiles as she nodded at dina.

“nothing…” you shrug, your lower lip between your teeth and she clicks her tongue, staring you down.

“yeah umm, can we… maybe talk? i mean, i will text you?” she asks in a lower tone, you look around for nothing.

“sure, we can. what about?” dina had leave your side, and you were left alone with her and some strangers next to the wall.

“me. i miss you.” she breathes out and you squint your eyes. “i do. can we please talk?”

“didn't you feel trapped with me? in our relationship?” you scratch your forearm. she takes your hand off it and you look up at her.

“no, i felt trapped but it wasn't you who trapped me. you never limited me. i just wanted to get out a bit, try new things maybe.” you scoff and snap your hand from hers.

“you needed a break from me? to try out new things? like what…? cat?” you sound annoyed by all this now and she's quick to argue.

“no…no, y/n. i thought i did but… i still miss you alright? and cat… i thought could move on to something but i didn't”

“ellie, i'm sorry but… you can still move on. i'm… sorry it didn't work out with cat? but that has nothing to do with me.” you try to call down as she gulps and looks to the side.

“i'm sorry.” she mutters, she sounds embarrassed but she nods. “you're right. i can move on, i don't want to.”

“ellie, this is not the place for this but… yeah we can talk, i can text you.” you sigh and she nods.

“alright, text me when you can.” you nod and leave to find kamala.

you tell her about it and she says ellie is embarrassing herself and you can only say you feel bad but also annoyed by this behavior. you see ellie a few times during the party and you just smile at each other.

you definitely still love ellie, you do wish you had never broken up but it was her who did this and you didn't feel like you could get back together just like that. you'd let her say what she had to say, you respected her, but you didn't think this would end up in rekindling things.

you were dancing with kamala, a little drunk already, when you felt a little hot. you went into the kitchen to grab water. ellie was there, her hand on her forehead.

“hey…” she looks up, recognizing your shoes. she looked a little drunk herself, cheeks flushed. “are you okay?” she saw you stumble.

“yeah i'm fine actually, i have been drinking though, came for a water bottle.” you chuckle and she nods a little as she holds her own head. “who's driving you home?”

“ugh… actually… no one” she chuckles back and shoot her an worried look. “hey, don't worry i'll wait until i sober up a little, i know it was dumb but it's okay.”

“yeah… you better… drink some water maybe.” you walk up to her with another water bottle, she takes it and mumbles a ‘thank you’.

“i feel like the floor's kinda moving.” she looks up to you now.

“you're just light headed. and a lightweight.” you chuckle as you get closer to her.

“yeah right…” she laughs and looks at your lips as you get closer. “you smell nice.” she takes a huge sip out the water and grabs your hand pulling you closer, you let her.

“thank you, you look real good.” your drunken self speaks and she leans on your shoulder, you feel her breath against your neck, making your breath heavier.

“you've such pretty lips.” she mumbles as she lifts her head back up and her lips ghosts against yours. she holds you closer as you hold her arms.

your alcohol breaths fan eachother's lips and faces, you hands fall on her torso and she grabs your hips.

“i wanna kiss you.” you drop your face on the crook of her neck and you sigh. she puts her water bottle down on the marble you were both leaned against only to cup your face, making you face her again.

“you know i'll kiss you back.” and you kiss her, liquor tasting kiss as your tongue pass through her lips.

she moans when you do, holding you so close your leg ends in the middle of hers. you're now running your hand up and down her torso and hip. her arms wrapped around you.

“needed this.” she groans and your grab her hair tightly.

“i need you.” you reply, kissing her deeply. she moans again, her hand finds your thigh and she lifts it.

“have me” she whispers in your ear. she's thrusting her hips as he holds your leg up by your thigh.

you make out feverishly, kisses your neck and you start panting and she grins against your neck. you felt your panties damp.

“bathroom?” you suggest as she starts shamelessly grinding her clothed pussy on your thigh. she nods frantically mumbling ‘please's as she lets go of your thigh and grabs your hand.

she pushes your body with her own, grabbing your waist to turn you around, her crotch against your ass as she walks you to the bathroom.

“don't trip, babe.” she jokes and kisses your neck.

“make sure you don't either, my love.” you giggle and now she's next to you. you look at eachother.

her cheeks are flushed pink and you smile at her, she opens the bathroom door and you get in. she kisses you now, grabbing your ass.

“i want you so bad, y/n. please.” she kisses your neck and you push her back. “what?”

“block the door.” you kiss her as her back hits the door, her hand is running up and down your back and around your hips. “missed you so fucking much.” you nibble her neck and she moans.

“i missed you, this. i need you right now” her hands go up your shirt and she sounds needy as fuck, grinding poorly on your hips. your hands find her stomach. “it's been too fucking long.”

you can feel your clit throb as she talks to you. you suck her earlobe and she grinds even more.

“so eager…” she pinches your nipple when you tease her, you whine out and she kisses you again.

“take this off, babe.” she says, tugging your shirt and you do what she tells you to. she goes in on your tits immediately. “yeah? you like that?” she asks as she nibbles the skin before sucking your nipple.

you moan and whimper holding her hair, she only stops when she feels your fingers tugging her belt.

“let me touch you.” you ask, she quickly unlatches her belt and you unzip her pants.

“i can't do this anymore…” she tilts her head back and you give her what she wants, tugging her jeans down.

you cup her pussy over her boxers and she moans, head hitting your shoulder.

“wet and warm, huh?” you whisper and she starts kissing you again. groping your tits with one hand and the other on your back.

your fingers ghost her slit, but you start caressing her inner thigh and hips, opening her legs. she grunts and starts trying to grind her pussy on your hand, which makes you press her hips against the door.

“stay still, now, alright? i'll get to it… promise.” you mumble, enjoying her body and how eager she was.

she nods, now grabbing your ass and thighs. you kiss her cheek and tug her panties to the side

“good girl” she grunts when your fingers run over her sticky slit. she was soaked in her slick.

you tease her clit and entrance with your fingertips, she moans and tried to grind against you.

“fuck, be quick with it.” she grunts and you frown. “please.” you slide two fingers into her pussy when she pleads. she gasps and grips your hair, taking your lips in a sloppy kiss.

she grinds her clit against your hand as you thrust your fingers in and out at the perfect pace she never stopped thinking about.

“more.” she moans between kisses.

“more what?” you start rubbing her clit with your other hand. “this?” she moans and nods.

“yeah… thanks.” you chuckle as she thanks you, kissing her neck again.

you look up at her eyes closed and cheeks flushed pink, her hands moving from your back to your shoulders. you speed up as you look at her.

you get the vision you wanted, her closed eyes squint, broken pants leave her open lips… you moan at the sight and the feeling of her wet pussy clenching around your fingers and her legs shaking, threatening to close around your hand.

“oh… you feel so good ellie, fuck.” you pinch her clit and she moans louder “yeah, keep those legs open for me.”

she cries out as she nods, her pussy clenching hard when you moan seeing her cry.

“please i'm so close.” she grunts through gritted teeth. “don't stop.”

“relax, you're so tight…” her stomach tenses and she relaxes and you reach deeper. “god…” you moan.

she moans non stop and her legs shake even more as she cums all over your fingers. you fuck her slowly as she comes down from her orgasm, hand leaving her clit.

you're both panting and she holds you by your back as you take your fingers out of her pussy only to look down and see her creamy cum on your fingertips and around her entrance. your pussy throbs at the sight.

you weakly get on your knees, sucking her cum off your fingers to lick the cum on her pussy. she grips your shoulders.

“you're so good to me.” she mumbles as you get up, tugging her boxers and pants up.