#shades of very light angst

[catsgetoutduringmidnight]

Aziraphale & Eddington.

Neil has confirmed us that David Tennant *actually* exists within the Good Omens universe. Thus, we may assume that the whole of his filmography, except for Good Omens, also exists. We may assume as well that Aziraphale has more or less followed Doctor Who over the decades, and that somehow, with time, the actor of his favourite doctor earned an eerie similarity to Job. But this isn't about him, right now. This is about his son in law.

I would like to think Aziraphale did enjoy the utterly handsome Eighth doctor, ending up glued to the screen and getting deeply excited about this incarnation. He probably got upset because of his only appearance on TV, but would still be delighted to see the series coming back to the BBC in 2005. The Ninth doctor may have appeared a bit tough to him at first, but there was something deeply endearing about him. Maybe it was the way he rocked that leather jacket, or his sense of humour, or his bravery, or his charming accent... He never really knew, but it was sad to say goodbye so soon again. "Who will be the new doctor?" He thought to himself. "Will they be blond? Taller? Will they wear a vest? A bowtie perhaps?". When the young man appeared on screen before Rose for the first time, Aziraphale was left completely mesmerised. The young man was... Different. He had slightly long hair and, honestly, he really liked how the leather jacket suited him too. Once the credits rolled, he found out his name: David. "Oh, that's a lovely name," he thought to himself. "That's the name of a king!".

He followed his seasons very carefully, blushing with his cheekiness, chuckling with his jokes, and loving how adventurous and fair the man was. Thanks to Crowley, he even dared to go to "the videoclub" and rent some of his earlier works. Oh, how handsome the man looked in The Last September, what a dear he was in Takin' Over the Asylum, how lovely he was in Duck Patrol, and what a cocky detective he was in Blackpool... Although, he admitted not being too focused on observing his labour as a detective there. The young man was rather handsome. Aziraphale flushed, could this be love? How silly of him! Falling in love with an actor! He was an angel! Which, inherently, also meant he was born to love. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't something bad. It could be silly, of course, but forgivable.

One afternoon, Aziraphale went to the videoclub on his own, and found a movie he hadn't checked out yet. Einstein and Eddington, a scientific movie it was. The young man looked wonderful in those glasses and stunning sandrift linen suit. Humans may say one mustn't judge a book by its cover, but this dvd already seemed perfect for him! Thus, the angel rented it and decided to treat himself with the film. He laid on his white cream sofa, got under his soft tartan blanket, and pressed the play button. A smile came across his face when he saw the man in those light refined clothes. What a delight to the sight that was.

The angel felt it deeply when he learnt that Eddington was in love with a man he couldn't have, but his heart did not only wrench there, no. It was when he saw the man stand before the orrery when things got clearer. He had to pause the video. Aziraphale got up and sat close before the screen, brushing his fingers against the image. "Crowley..." He mumbled. The only thing in his mind was the image of the spectacular ginger angel he met, in their neat white dress, creating a whole universe in front of his eyes. The way their thin fingers moved, the eagerness in their voice, the dark greenish of their gaze, way more breathtaking than the vastness of hues of the newborn nebulae. And when the blond saw, further on, the physicist crying desperately for his vanished love in the wide green garden, his heart shattered into shards.

He would not admit it, but he did not watch the movie just once that night. Not twice either. Eddington was just like his dear boy, not specifically the angel, nor specifically the demon. It was him. With their curiosity, and their passion, and their deep care, and hunger for answers and justice. He felt warm tears threatening to fall from his eyes and his mind started wandering. Because, what if. Just, what if Crowley had ever felt like Eddington? What if he was worried that one day he would never see his angel again? What if there were feelings trapped in his chest he feared never being able to express? Would he be like the astronomer and, once again, question God for her ineffable decisions? It took Aziraphale a good while to get away from the screen, from that eerily familiar image fueling his heart. It took him days for his sorrow over the fictional Eddington's life to lighten, after being the root of many, many wondering.

The next time the angel met his partner, he was certainly still caught up in his thoughts. The demon noticed, so he decided to ask him about his series and that actor that had truly drawn his attention. He didn't really know what he saw in him, but it didn't take much to notice the pure bliss in his blue eyes when he told him about his character's adventures. The way his words flowed in excitement and his hands often moved around to help with it. The angel was finally enjoying himself in something else than books and occasional music, and seeing him so cheerful did really brighten the demon too.

"How are things going with your binge watching? Have you gotten your hands on another series, or...?"

Aziraphale slowly lifted up his head and stared nervously into Crowley's eyes. He did not know what to say, how could he put into words his worry? Even worse, how to explain where all this came from? The ginger would probably laugh. Worrying that deeply about a character? A movie character? The angel got dewy-eyed. Please no, not in front of him, not like this, he prayed. The demon frowned, he sensed there was something his beloved couldn't easily tell.

"Aziraphale? Is everything alright?" The ginger asked softly. The principality breathed deeply and finally, managed to speak, as he fiddled with his vest.

"I- I just watched a movie, a sad one I must say. It made me think." The demon hummed, and answered.

"I get it. It's understandable, and if that David guy is really that good as you say, I bet his acting can move tons of people." Aziraphale's gaze brightened, he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "I mean, I can see him being very talented. From what you've told me, the man does really have a range for acting. That's always important, to be able to adapt-."

"You really listened." Crowley was about to keep on rambling when he saw the angel in awe.

"Well, I have ears, what else am I supposed to do with them if its not listening?"

Tears fell off the angel's eyes. Crowley did not hesitate to get closer, inviting him into his arms. In a matter of seconds, the blond was in his embrace. He hugged his Angel tightly, and let him cry as much as he needed, caressing his back. He could not help but mutter in a caring tone.

"You and your stories, Angel."

[nerosdayinanime]

At the end of the world or the last thing I see You are never coming home, never coming home Never coming home, never coming home And all the things that you never ever told me And all the smiles that are ever going to haunt me

Never coming home, Never coming home

[fandomkingsblog]

P-Picasso... hey @phykoha why did you have to make them so pretty?? I couldn't resist immediately getting a sketch ready when I saw their design-

[foxsoulart]

[astraystayyh]

pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

i. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation. 

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand. 

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you. 

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure. 

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth. 

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head. 

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh. 

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.  

He’s beautiful. 

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually  don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips. 

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice. 

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly. 

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support. 

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.” 

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display. 

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within. 

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.” 

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you. 

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants. 

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being. 

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back. 

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers. 

“Touché.” 

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed. 

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you. 

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?” 

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you. 

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.” 

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you. 

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move. 

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around. 

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen. 

One hour later 

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight. 

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back. 

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind. 

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips. 

“You made them?” 

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief. 

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears. 

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before. 

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth. 

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head. 

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two. 

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both. 

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.” 

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.” 

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it. 

ii. 

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you. 

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention. 

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago. 

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours. 

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.” 

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.” 

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose. 

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly. 

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.” 

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek. 

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying. 

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her. 

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten. 

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.” 

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror. 

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door. 

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch? 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.” 

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend. 

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.” 

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well. 

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.” 

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements. 

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair. 

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth. 

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest. 

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows. 

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.” 

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue. 

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him. 

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it? 

Your facade cracks. His voice wins. 

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.” 

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years. 

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly. 

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris. 

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture. 

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp. 

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours. 

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?” 

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

 “I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

 “I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

 “You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

 “I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

 “Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him. 

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night. 

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter. 

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head. 

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.” 

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not. 

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back. 

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near. 

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly. 

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near. 

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay. 

One week later. 

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm. 

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.  

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair. 

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing. 

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face. 

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess. 

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm. 

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems. 

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling. 

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter. 

“Will she be okay?” 

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?” 

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks. 

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up. 

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode. 

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak. 

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on. 

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze. 

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps,  despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.” 

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears. 

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.” 

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away. 

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat. 

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.” 

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before. 

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ 

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired 

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help? 

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring 

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock. 

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide. 

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.” 

“Can I read what you wrote?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart. 

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago. 

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?” 

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.” 

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?” 

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.” 

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes. 

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.” 

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away? 

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own. 

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch. 

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.” 

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin. 

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close. 

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?” 

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.” 

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing. 

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you. 

You wished to be the only one Chris liked. 

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out. 

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair. 

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold. 

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper. 

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it. 

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could. 

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.” 

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date. 

iv. 

You’re avoiding him. 

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks. 

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh. 

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory. 

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you. 

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question. 

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!” 

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?” 

“Okay!” 

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner. 

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

“Look at me, hm?” he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. “Yn, please, I want to look at you.”

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him. 

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm. 

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile. 

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly. 

“What happened to connected Chris?” 

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place. 

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again. 

you win. 

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later). 

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face. 

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly. 

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both. 

It's her first time calling you mom. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently. 

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

[13lov]

tethered. | jjk

Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him. 

Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible. 

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him. 

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you. 

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister. 

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway. 

So you leave.

You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him. 

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco. 

Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen. 

"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did. 

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning." 

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees. 

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway. 

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.

Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling. 

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook. 

You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it. 

Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.

You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice. 

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend. 

Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body. 

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted. 

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another. 

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap. 

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger. 

"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you. 

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym. 

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Jungkook.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking. 

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest. 

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty. 

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to? 

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

[ichorai]

button ; coriolanus snow. (m)

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; what did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. misshaped. odd. not matching the rest of your buttons. his gift to you. “you’re wearing it,” coriolanus whispered. his voice sounded strained.

words ; 3.4k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, smut

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex (not very explicit), possessiveness, themes of classism, we meet reader's rich parents !! and grandma'am and tigris appear, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

a/n ; there will be a third part loosely following the events of the movie (obv tweaked for the fic!)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Your home was the very definition of old money—wealth and grace and high status carved into the marble floors, hung up in the large oil paintings, found within the fibers of the expensive carpets leading into grand halls. Snow had to consciously remind himself to appear unphased. He had this sort of life, too, as far as you were concerned.

It was only expected, especially considering your parents’ high positions: with your father being the top admiral of the navy, and your mother a renowned physicist with several awards under her belt. Dozens of rows of medals and framed certifications from both your parents were more than enough for Snow to gauge the mass of their importance.

He shifted the weight of his feet in his too-tight shoes. Anxious. He wore his dress shirt again, though not before asking Tigris to try and rework the buttons. The buttons hewn from his bathroom tiles. Make them look the same, he had told her. They’re uneven. Snow turned away before he could see her mildly crestfallen expression.

It was a special occasion, hence his dressed-up attire. There was a rose pinned to his waistcoat, a deep shade of red, from his Grandma’am’s rooftop garden. Your father had come home today, after months of military work in the districts. And to celebrate such a momentous evening, you invited him to dinner. 

To meet your parents. How utterly fraught.

Though, now that the two of you were officially together (albeit only recently—Sejanus asked if the two of you were a thing and Coryo replied with an instinctive, possessive yes, much to both of your surprise), Coriolanus supposed there was no use in delaying the inevitable.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told him, arm looped around his. The white rose he’d given you upon his arrival was tucked neatly behind your ear, a lovely contrast to your all-black garb. In a light-hearted tone, you added, “Father would be able to smell it on you. The fear.”

Coriolanus shot you an exasperated glance, to which you only smiled. You landed a soft, reassuring kiss onto his cheek, hand sliding down from his elbow to lace with his. 

“You look… breathtaking,” he said, lifting your conjoined palms to brush his lips over your knuckles. Of the many lies that he told you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

Your eyes gleamed with the light from the chandelier hanging above you.

“And you look handsome as ever.” A pause. You seemed bashful all of a sudden, averting your gaze to the gold patterns on the marble floors. “I know this is all very new, so I apologize in advance, if my father asks about our, uhm… our future… He’s a very forward man.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips and he slotted his free hand beneath your chin, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly over the side of your throat, forcing you to look back at him. “I have no intention of letting you go, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You smiled again, all sunlight and warmth, and Coriolanus couldn’t help but steal it away with one last kiss. 

“Ready?” you asked, jerking your head in the direction of the dining room. 

Snow swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

Dinner was quite a pleasant affair. The food was better than anything the academy ever served—Coriolanus wondered how you could willingly go from eating such delicacies at home to basic, run-of-the-mill meals the cafeteria provided. There were courses, tender peppered steaks (his very favorite), rich mushroom soups, iced lemon cakes, and several sorts of breads and butters were offered all throughout.

Your mother was a delight, enchanting him with stories of laboratory mishaps and her dangerous adventures with radioactive material. You looked a lot like her, he realized.

Your father, on the other hand, was pressing at first, grilling Coriolanus with dozens of personal questions. If you hadn’t warned him beforehand that he was a military leader, he most definitely would’ve worked it out for himself then. There were times where you politely but forcefully snapped at him, telling him to lay off the invasive interrogation and to let the poor man eat. But Coriolanus really didn’t mind—he’d spent hours upon hours preparing himself for this. He answered all of the questions with effortless ease.

By the third course, your father was satisfied. Reluctant, but satisfied. By the fourth, he was already asking about marriage, much to your mortification. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, and quietly listened to you lecture your father about privacy and civility.

Yes, dinner was quite enjoyable. Several containers of food from unseen servants were wrapped up for him to take home, at your request, despite his polite protests. It wasn’t a common thing to do in the capitol, but your parents hadn’t batted an eye. 

He was safe. They didn’t know. It was an ongoing mantra the entire night.

He was shown out the door by your father, who clapped a large hand on his shoulder and told him to take care of you, especially while he was gone. Your mother kissed him once on each cheek as farewell, and you did the same, though your kisses strayed far closer to his lips. He caught the mischievous gleam in your eyes. 

The door shut behind him once he strode into the expansive courtyard in front of your mansion of a home. He glanced down at the rose pinned to his coat, wondering if you were still wearing yours behind your ear. A minute later, he jumped out of his reverie when the entrance creaked open once more. You peeked your head back out, eyes alight, pleased to see that he was still there. 

You slid out from the entryway and made your way to him with quick strides, wasting no time to rest your hands upon his chest. To his delight, you were still wearing the rose. “Father and mother left to watch television in the estate’s Northern wing. Didn’t want to kiss you in front of them.”

There were wings to your house? Coriolanus blinked at you, accidentally letting his indifferent mask slip for a few seconds. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. It took him another moment to gather his wits, before winding his arms about your waist and deepening the kiss, nearly bending you backwards with his vigor.

He could never tire of this, he thought, fingers curling so his nails dug into the expensive black fabric of your top. Kissing you, touching you, entertaining the notion that you were his, and only his. 

When you pulled away, your lips were wonderfully kiss-swollen and your pupils were blown wide, to his amusement. Were his eyes just the same?

“Thank you for being here today,” you mumbled, that smile-frown he was so fond of gracing your features once more. “I’m sorry if my parents were too—”

“They were wonderful. You’re wonderful,” he interrupted, tone soft. His hand lifted from your waist to cup your face. Cold fingers against flushed skin. “I’ll see you at the academy?”

A nod, a grin, and a relieved sigh. “Sleep well, Coryo.”

“You, too.” He pulled away, reluctant, allowing his hands to fall back to his sides. “You look good with it, you know. The rose.” With a final nod, he turned on his heel and walked away from your estate, back to his own cold penthouse, where he had to burn newspaper scraps to keep warm.

The months drew by like a lazy stream of water, gliding over a bed of stones, languid and pleasant. Your time with Coriolanus was nothing short of utter bliss. He was a sweet lover, despite his possessive streaks, always making sure you were alright with what he was doing. The two of you went slow and steady, always asking, always gentle. He kissed you as if you were made of sugar glass, and you held onto him as if he was a fragile ceramic vase.

Exams were drawing nearer with each passing day, and the two of you found yourself studying and cramming more than anything. He would often tell you that there was no need for you to study so hard, especially when you were already at the very top, likely to claim the Plinth prize for yourself, but you always waved him away with a modest laugh. If the two of you weren’t at the library pouring over dozens upon dozens of books, you were finding ways to sneak him into your home: kissing behind stone statues in the gardens, hiding behind velvet curtains, pulling him onto your massive, four-poster bed.

It was only a matter of time until you asked.

His arm was draped over your bare midriff, drawing mindless shapes into your hip. Your head rested back against his chest, mildly sweaty from the lovemaking session the two of you were still dwindling down from. You stared out your window, watching the sun slowly bleed the sky a hazy clementine hue, teeth sinking down into the flesh of your bottom lip in thought.

“Why haven’t we ever studied at your home, Coryo?” you asked. “I’ve yet to meet your cousin. You talk about her a lot… she seems wonderful.”

You felt a cold breath billow over the back of your neck. It sent pleasant chills spider down your spinal column. And you could’ve imagined it, but his fingers seemed to flex over your bare flesh. Twitch. Almost antsy. Did your question make him uncomfortable?

Shifting in his grasp, you turned within his arms so you could face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you, or anything. I just… just know that I’d never judge you.”

His expression was near unreadable, the blue of his eyes even paler than usual with the sunset’s light casting a honey-glow over both of your sprawled-out forms. He kissed you again, hungrily, almost as if to distract you. You let him.

Kiss you, touch you, bruise you. Any of it, all of it.

A low groan barreled within his chest when you fisted a handful of his soft blonde waves at the base of his neck, gently tugging. 

“Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less,” you muttered against his lips, nose nudging against his. “Nothing, Coryo.”

And he, in a moment of love-addled weakness, let himself believe you.

Come the next afternoon, you were at the door of the Snows’ penthouse, a basketed batch of warm cookies held in one hand, the other holding a heavy bag full of all your textbooks to study. If the two of you were going to study at all today. Your mother was aghast that you were about to visit his home without some sort of gift, and abruptly shoved the basket of goodies into your arms out of seemingly nowhere, as if materialized out of thin air.

“Coriolanus loves the chocolate chip ones,” she harrumphed whilst ushering you out the door. “Honestly, showing up to someone else’s home empty-handed? Who raised you?”

The irony was not lost on either of you, and you barked out a laugh before kissing her farewell and setting off to visit him. 

You rang the rusted doorbell once—curiously regarding the little button once you realized that it was broken. Then, you knocked the door twice, then another two times for good measure. There was a muffled scuffling behind the door, a woman’s voice echoing from behind.

And when it swung open, you were met with an elderly woman, shrouded in a too-large, black tunic with embroidered flowers on the sleeves, the threads loose and pulled, the once-vibrant colors faded. She wore a turban, covering most of her white hair save for the few thin tendrils framing the sides of her face. 

“Hello, I’m Coriolanus’ classmate,” you greeted, in an ever-so-capitol-esque manner. “You must be his… Grandma’am?”

She appeared confused for a moment, before slow sparks of recognition fired across her blue eyes. Coriolanus had the same eyes, you noted.

“Oh!” she crooned. “Oh, dear me! Coriolanus! It’s your lovely friend!” 

There was a bit of commotion down the hall. The brief moment of pause allowed you to finally take in why Coriolanus hadn’t wanted you to come to his home all this time. The penthouse was still quite lavish, as the Snow estate was one of the most expensive properties in the capitol, but it was clear that the space was diminishing with the weight of its upkeep—flickering lights, dusty floors, tears in the wallpapers, mold on the countertops…

Your attention was drawn away from the view when Tigris and Coryo emerged from the same room, and you couldn’t help the smile that threatened to break across your features. His cousin was fretting over his lopsided curls, and he discreetly tried to duck out of her way to get to you.

“My, you are just as gorgeous as he said you were!” Grandma’am said in a pitching tone, wrangling your attention back to her. She lifted her hands to lightly pinch at your cheeks. “Yes, you’ll do just fine.” Her fingers fell away and she scuttled off, murmuring something about the Capitol’s First Partner—

Coriolanus breathed out your name and his hand was on your shoulder, apologizing once, twice, three times (what was he even apologizing for?), before Tigris popped up by his side, bumping him out of the way so she could shake your hand vigorously.

“Hi! I’m Tigris—it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You shook the blonde woman’s hand, smile seeming to grow impossibly wider. “It’s nice to meet you, too! I love your dress.”

Her mouth dropped open in a flustered manner and a lovely rose shade dusted over her cheekbones. “Oh, this old thing?” She absentmindedly smoothed a hand down the frills of her pink dress. “Yeah, I… oh, it’s nothing, really, I just made it myself.”

“That’s incredibly impressive! You must be a really talented seamstress.”

A sharp clear of his throat made your eyes snap back to Coriolanus. 

“Coryo,” you greeted warmly. “I brought you cookies. Chocolate chip. Mother sends her regards.”

The two Snows in front of you eyed the basket with large eyes. 

“Thank you,” he croaked, accepting the basket from your extended hands and handing it over to his cousin. “Tigris, if you’d excuse us—we’ve got some studying to do.”

Coriolanus began to tug you down the hall, and you waved back to Tigris, telling her that you’d love to see any of her other dresses later. She’d already reached into the basket and had a cookie halfway to her mouth as she nodded at you with a toothy grin.

His room was in around the same state as the rest of the home. Furniture was old, torn, frayed, or simply broken. There were several boarded-up holes in his dresser. There was a box of rat poison below his desk, which was full with all sorts of papers and stacks of yellowing books. You skittered in and dropped your heavy bag down by his bed, allowing him to close the door behind you. You just barely registered the click of a lock.

“So?” he asked, voice sounding much louder in such a confined space. He seemed tense, as if bracing himself for the worst. “Are you disgusted yet?”

“What do you take me for?” you replied easily, having already gathered why he was so afraid of bringing you here in the first place. “I’m not a leech, nor am I vain, Coriolanus. I don’t want more money, and I’m not here to offer you charity to flaunt my wealth. I thought you’d know that by now.”

He stalked closer, observing you like a wolf would its prey. “What is it you want, then?”

When you took a step back closer to his small, rather wiry bed, he would take two longer strides, crowding you back against it. He dipped forward so that his lips were only a hair’s breadth from yours, but just barely not touching.

“You know, I’m sure.”

“I do.” Coriolanus knew that you wanted him just for him, and nothing gave him more pleasure than that simple fact. His nose brushed yours. 

“Would it make me a fool to stay?” you asked, the question fanning over his mouth. Inviting, ever so tantalizing. “You’re not planning on chopping me up and selling my organs for some cash, are you?”

He didn’t laugh at your little joke. Instead, he dove forward, one hand yanking your hips to his, the other winding over to the back of your head. He kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue, hardened lips and his knee slotting between your thighs. 

“No,” he susurrated thickly, as if he’d swallowed honey and soil, pressing you down until you were fully laid down over his rickety bed, back arched. “You’d be mine. All of you, just mine.”

He swallowed any sort of gasp and moan that fell from your mouth. Greedy, lustful, determined to make you pliable. His kisses didn’t slow down whatsoever when he tore himself away from your lips, freckling them down your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbones. 

What did make him pause, however, was the very top button of your shirt. 

Misshaped. Odd. Not matching the rest of your buttons. His gift to you.

“You’re wearing it,” Coriolanus whispered. His voice sounded strained.

“Mmh?” You glanced down at the button. “Oh. Of course, I am. I like how it looks.”

His face hovered above yours once more. His stare was so intense you began to shy away, staring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. The silence felt suffocating as you waited for him to do something. Anything.

“I love you,” he breathed out, finally. Upfront and abrupt. It wasn’t often that he said it. Maybe once or twice before, since you said it more than enough for the both of you. 

You laughed then—your wonderful, wind-chime laughter. It was more out of shock than anything. He kissed you soft and sweet, momentarily quelling your chuckling. But as the afternoon of so-called ‘studying’ drew on, the laughter melded into sighs of pleasure when clothes were shed, shifting towards wanton moans of desperation when heated flesh slid against one another. 

You nearly choked when his length breached your entrance, scratching faint red lines down the expanse of his back as he pushed in, pulled out. Rhythmic. Again and again and again—you couldn’t seem to get enough of him on top of you, inside of you, all around you. Your chest was pressed up against his; could he hear your heart beating through your ribs, yearning to feel his? The coil within your lower abdomen tightened. He read your every microexpression just perfectly.

He’d unbuttoned your entire shirt save for the oddly-shaped one, hands groping all over your bare skin, teeth biting down onto the patch of skin just above the button as he rocked himself into a climax, roping you down into the abyss with him. Ragged groans and broken sighs. 

Coriolanus dragged his tongue up your chest and your neck, leaving a cold trail in his wake, and he sucked in a deep breath. When he pulled back to stare at you—flushed, hair mussed, sweat beaded along your hairline, his pearlescent spend between your thighs, your eyes half-lidded… chest only barely covered by his one button…

“Thank you,” he croaked, kissing the space beside your left eye. “For not running.”

“Don’t make me a fool for it,” you replied, looping your arms over Coriolanus’ neck so he could kiss you properly.

[linoveins]

kitty keychains and pudding paybacks

best friend!minho can't help but recall memories of him and fem!reader in the middle of their grocery trip

this is part 2 of silky shorts and stained shirts

genre: fluff, smut, angst (a little), college au

warnings: MDNI! condescending dom!minho, sub!reader, reader is physically sensitive, reader is inexperienced, minho and reader are not straight, pet names, grinding, nipple play, marking, praise, dirty talk, p in v, minho has a huge dick, a bit of pain from sex (just a little), oral f receiving, fingering, minho is really possessive, minho is an idiot when it comes to feelings

w.c.: 11.9k

a/n: i swore part 2 would be sweet, smutty, and simple but my fingers slipped and now we're at 11.9k words T_T hope it isn't too much! i rlly enjoyed writing this i hope u enjoy reading it as well.

you flinch at the sudden flash of light as you stuff sushi in your mouth.

the perpetrator is across you, smiling stupidly while holding his stupid phone in his stupid hand. you notice the people who were just peacefully eating in the dim restaurant look at you both with a disapproving stare which makes you mumble out a quiet apology.

minho doesn’t seem to care, that idiot. you kick him below the table and he just giggles.

“delete that!” you whisper at him aggressively. you both know it’s useless. his phone is a growing waste of every single embarrassing picture and video clip ever taken of his friends. and as someone who’s with him like 90% of the time, you’re unfortunately 90% of his pesky camera roll.

“shh, go eat your food”, he hums, still grinning. 

“i was eating until i was so rudely interrupted.”

“in my defense, i didn't know the flash was on”, he retorts confidently as if that makes it better. “and most importantly, i’m storing memories. be grateful you have such a wonderful friend to do that for you. you suck at taking photos”, he argues.

he’s right. you don’t even have a quarter of the amount of photos he has. you keep reminding yourself to take more pictures for the memories since your memory itself sucks, but you always either forget or you’re too slow to capture the moment. minho says the growing amount of keychains on your phone case were the reason you’re so slow. as if he didn’t add onto your collection with a personalized keytag of jureumi. 

you watch minho watch you thinking about his words. annoying. you just poke your tongue out at him and he shakes his head at the childish display.

after a while, minho finishes his plate and you notice him eyeing yours. you already know what’s running through that pretty head of his. 

by your luck or maybe his excitement from planning his attack, he accidentally drops his chopsticks. 

as he’s reaching out for it under the table with a silent fuck, you insert a pretty good chunk of wasabi into the sushi and flip the piece so he won't notice. 

you eat the second to the last sushi. you know he’s looking at the very last one on your plate like the greedy man he is. you drink your water to hide your grin. 

like clockwork, he grabs the last sushi and shoots it in his mouth in record time, a smug look on his face just a split second before realizing his mistake.

gotcha, idiot. 

you swallow your water so fast so you won’t choke from laughter at seeing how red his neck and ears are getting.

he rushes for the water and starts cursing at you. it’s your turn to take an embarrassing photo of him. you’re quick this time. 

“you are evil!” he shouts, eyes a bit teary and lips red.

“if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions.”

minho continues downing liquid and you can’t help but stare. if it really isn’t the consequences of one’s actions.

his neck is all red and his lips are burning with the perfect shade of red adorning them. he’s swallowing the water and you follow the liquid that disappears past his lips and down his throat. he has such a pretty throat. you don’t understand how a person's adam’s apple can look so defined and delicious? you snap out of your staring and tell him you should head out soon for the groceries.

he nods, still glaring at you. you can tell from his faint smile he’s trying to contain that he’s not really mad.

the train to the supermarket is a bit packed. it’s the rush hour so you and minho are sitting together, both your thighs squished next to each other.

you notice minho’s ears are still red. no way he’s still affected by the wasabi? his eyes are closed and his jaw is clenched. you laugh.

“your ears are still red? that wasabi really did one on you!” 

minho rolls his eyes. it’s not the wasabi. not that you should know when you’re laughing like that anyway.

you sneakily bring out your phone but he hears the little clanging of the metals and he catches you sending the photo of him in the restaurant to han jisung of all people.

he snatches your phone from your hold to try and stop you, but it was already sent so you don’t make the extra effort to get it back. you grin in success and close your eyes while waiting for your stop.

you remember the first time you saw him. it was on this train on the way to university. you decided to leave early after having one of those moments of wanting to turn your life around at 3 am. 

you got aboard the 6 am train and there he was, some cute guy with glasses on and a hoodie. he had earphones on and his eyes were closed as he silently tapped his foot to whatever music he was playing. you couldn’t look away. not that you wanted to.

he had an intimidating aura to him which contrasted his cute face. you were a sucker for that so you decided to wake up early the next day too. maybe you’ll see him again.

and yet again, there he was. 

you woke up earlier again the next day. and the next. and then the next, until you formed a new habit of waking up early for the 6 am train even though your classes start at noon. 

you told yourself it was a good habit to form. you felt gratitude for the pretty boy on the train. you never approached him though. you didn't feel the need to. he never looked your way and you didn’t mind. it helped you develop a routine of waking up early and you were glad just for that. 

the speakers announce your stop and minho taps you gently upon noticing your eyes were closed. both of you got out of the train and walked towards the supermarket.

grocery shopping with you was one of minho’s favorite occurrences.

he didn’t think much of it, he just knew it was so much more fun when he’s with you. he always chalked it up to you simply being fun to hang out with and that you’re always able to match his sillier side. almost a little too well. maybe..

“ya! don’t buy too much of that!” he notices you stuffing your cart with 5 packages of the carbonara buldak which interrupted his wandering thoughts.

“it’s my money? it’s the perfect meal for exams!”

minho recalls your late night snacking during last term’s finals and he sighs at the memory. 

you were literally consuming that stuff three times a day. sometimes more. he had to hide the rest of it and force you to let him cook you a proper meal.

of course he almost folded when you looked at him with teary eyes, begging him to free the packs, and that you were tired and stressed and you’re really craving it. you were so tempting begging him like that. nevermind that it’s for some stupid noodles. he eventually made sure you ate his cooking anyway.

he takes 3 of the packages from your cart and puts them back on the shelf. he sighs through his nose while you glare at him.

“we’re supposed to die a natural death, y/n. i don’t want you getting a heart disease any time before 90!” he scolds you.

90 is a bit too much, you think. you just poke your tongue out at him again but you move on with only the 2 packs. 

you are so annoying. he can't help but smile while watching you struggle pushing the cart. 

you look back at minho from his sudden quietness. minho just nods at you to continue walking. his heart warms. you always glance back to see if he’s still behind you. always. whether you’re on a narrow sidewalk or whether you’re ordering in line in front of him, or when you’re both in bed and you can’t sleep due to stress, or that one time you were cheating off of him during an exam. he smiles at the thought. for all kinds of reasons, you always glance back, and for all kinds of reasons he vows to himself to keep being there. 

both of you walk to the candy section. none of you really like candy that much but hyunjin kept begging minho to get a brand of gummies that can only be found at that supermarket. minho saw you looking at the cherry lollipops. you’ve had that before. he knows because it’s what you had in your mouth during a small get-together for his birthday where he introduced you for the first time to his friends.

some of the boys have already met you. you got comfortable real quick with the rest of them and he remembers being so happy that they’re getting along greatly with you. 

seungmin teased him about you that night and he just threatened to put him in the oven before muttering something about how she's just a friend. seungmin just leaves him alone with a sarcastic “sure”. 

he recalls changbin being late that night because of a project. everyone was already on their 4th or 5th game of the night. hyunjin bought a bunch of candy and the lollipop was one of the prizes. minho remembers scolding him for being so childish but he didn’t really stop him since he knows how childish all his friends are anyway. 

you were definitely childish too with two cherry lollipops poking through each of your cheeks. why the hell do you have two? you don’t even like cherries.

apart from definitely childish, you were also definitely drunk from the drinking games you were playing with the rest of the guys. you were getting too close to felix for his own liking and he was unknowingly glaring holes at the younger boy’s freckles, hoping they’ll burst or something. 

he knows you’re a clingy drunk and he wanted to intervene, but he realized seungmin was looking at him looking at you and he’d rather not ignite whatever dumb things the mutt is thinking. he remembers cursing felix inwardly, repeating get your own friend, get your own friend in his head.

when changbin arrived, he introduced you once more. you sat up immediately to bow at the blonde man politely.

and with you being drunk as hell, you blinked at his friend a few times before your jaw dropped, both the cherry lollipops that were just in your mouth falling on top of minho’s head. hyunjin doubled back in laughter and jeongin had to hold the back of the hyunjin’s head to keep it from smashing against the furniture. minho picked up the cherry lollipops in disgust and saw you look at changbin all dazed and pathetic with a “you’re really handsome” slipping past your cherry-stained tongue. changbin laughed shyly and the guys just lost their shit even more at the whole thing.

minho knew you were way out of it at that point and decided to get you to bed while the rest of them continued with the night. 

he dragged you to the bathroom, brushing your teeth for you since you were too drunk to do it yourself.

he got you to his bed, lifting you up and rolling you in his duvet like a cat being put on sock timeout.

“don’t argue. you’re gonna have a terrible headache in the morning. sleep. now.” he said a bit grumpily while making sure you’re still comfortable even after restraining you with his sheets. you whined at him, still not wanting the fun to end.

“but i was winning! you- ch- chan was about to take another shot!” you were putting up a fight although he could see how weak and tired you already were. minho just clicked his tongue at you. 

“and you’ve had too much. you’re sleeping now. i’m not hearing it.”

minho closed his bedroom door shut after turning the lights out and he was right about putting you to bed since you passed out almost immediately.

after a few hours of messing around, minho got tired and left some of the guys in his living room who still had way too much energy. 

jeongin was already asleep on the couch, chan was in the bathroom puking his head out on the toilet (the photos haunted him the next day), and the rest of his friends were so loud screaming “draw 2!” “draw 4!” “draw 8!” that he got a complaint the next morning. 

changbin followed him that night to ask about you.

“so that’s y/n”, changbin said in an amused tone while handing the birthday boy his gift.

“mhm”, minho took the gift and smiled at him. “glad you could come. thanks for this.”

“is… she dating anyone?” the younger one asked and minho’s heart sank so low on his stomach that he thought he was gonna have to pull chan from the toilet so he could have a go next.

changbin looked at him expectantly and minho just blinked before deciding to pull something from his ass.

“she’s not. but she doesn’t really want to date anyone right now. says they’re a distraction. so you probably shouldn’t”

he wasn’t completely lying. you told him you didn’t wanna date around, that you weren’t actively seeking for it. but if anyone nice came, preferably someone you can trust and not a total stranger, then why not? 

minho gulped and changbin looked at him weirdly but ultimately just nodded his head in understanding.

“ah… i see. it’s too bad. but i respect that. i’m gonna hang with those idiots for a while. you heading to bed now?” minho nodded. he walked to his room with a heavy feeling on his chest that he blamed on the food.

he forgot all about it when he saw you. he chuckled at your position: head falling off the edge of the bed, arms in a marty mcfly sleeping position, legs somehow on top of his headboard? he took his phone out to immortalize the sight. how the hell did you even get out of the roll?

he sighed and gently laid your head back on the bed. he maneuvered your body until he had enough space to sleep next to you. he knew there was a high chance that you would be kicking some part of him later on but he never minded. 

minho plopped his heavy leg over you and took you in an embrace to keep you still.

he started feeling a bit guilty for making shit up to changbin. but he figured you won’t mind. not that he would ever tell you. 

he never thought about any of his friends seeing you in a romantic light. nor did he think about it himself. all he knew was he’s really possessive over his friends and that should extend to you. 

but he also knew changbin was a good guy and you’d definitely click well with him. that didn’t mean it would sit right in his stomach if you did click too well. 

get your own friend, he kept thinking. you’re his friend. he doesn’t want you spending less time with him. it would be unfair since he found you first. he should be enough. he huffed one last time before hugging you even tighter that night than he ever had.

“yo! you said you’d buy me two extra cups of pudding. let’s check the aisle.” minho snaps back to reality and follows you. 

the pudding.

normally, he wouldn’t even consider replacing it with one yet he offered you two.

his guilt from… earlier events made him think you deserve just as much and then some. he knows you know that it's unlike him to even pay you back for his greedy schemes so you're taking advantage of the newfound generosity that you didn't know was actually guilt.

somehow they’re all out of the regular pudding. what’s there is rows and rows of the nasty strawberry pudding both of you tried once. he remembers how your face scrunched from disgust.

the cute little designs on the pudding cup made minho wanna try it with you. you ate at the same time and both of you immediately spat it out.

“this is absolute shit from a butt! the goddamn devil’s butt, blergh!” you drank minho’s sparkling water to wash out the definitely-not-strawberry strawberry flavor. 

“yeah, you’d know” he laughs hard and calls you weird.

“it’s an expression, you piece of shit. a piece of shit from the devil’s butt too, mind you. and you’re weirder than me, don’t give me that.”

“i’ll stuff this pudding in your mouth,” he threatens and you fake gag at him. none of you tried any strawberry-flavored pudding again.

“looks like you really just don’t deserve pudding today” he chuckles at the sight in front of him. 

“maybe if you left my pudding alone”, you mutter and he just basks in successfully annoying you.

you both continue on your separate shopping carts while still walking around together. minho is about to go crazy. why the hell does he keep being reminded of you in this stupid store? for every little thing too. like, seriously?

the meat section reminded him of you absolutely fucking up the steak you tried cooking for him when he won with his team on a dancing competition. you still ate it all, trying your best to chew the overcooked meat, not wanting to waste it. 

the fruits and vegetables section reminded him of the time both of you were fixated on mango smoothies for months.

the onions reminded him of that one time he taught you how to cook kimchi sundubu-jjigae, and when you offered chopping the onions, you were silently sniffling to hide your crying. he laughed like a madman when he noticed. that picture was marked favorite in his phone.

the damn spring roll wrappers reminded him of your thin shorts just this afternoon. spring roll wrappers, for fuck’s sake.

the frozen foods aisle reminded him of the time he scolded you for not bringing out the tonkatsu he told you to bring out so you both could have dinner. you ended up sleeping all day in his bathtub and they were still frozen by the time he got home. you felt so bad that you paid for both of your food that night, which then made him feel bad so he went with you to the convenience store to try out the interesting strawberry pudding with the cute packaging. 

the dairy section took him back to that one afternoon where you were both here doing your groceries, and an old couple asked him to reach for the milk brand at the bottom shelf, saying something about bad joints. he remembers the goosebumps that ran through his body when the old lady whispered to him that both of you will have beautiful kids like them someday. she proceeded to show him said kids on her wallet, pictures faded from how long ago those were probably taken. he just smiled politely at her. he was certain if you two had kids, yours would be cuter than theirs. not that he kept thinking about it from time to time afterwards.

he exhales in relief when you two get out of the supermarket, light bags of food in hand. you look at him and he looks at you and there’s a pause before he starts talking.

“let’s pass by the convenience store. maybe they have your pudding there.” 

you know the convenience store is a bit farther from the station since it’s the other way. you’re not even craving pudding anymore.

“let’s go”, you say as you both walk towards the other direction, groceries in hand. 

you always linger when you’re with him. a few hours more to see him laugh with and at his friends on his birthday even though you already feel your eyes getting heavy. a few seats more distanced from the train door to see him a bit longer, not wanting to leave before him. a few blocks more in the opposite direction just to be in his presence a little more. the weight of the grocery bags are nothing. not when minho’s next to you.

once you arrive, both of you plop the bags on the tiny table while he checks on the pudding aisle. you notice how peaceful it is like this with your tiny routines you formed with him over a few years. your heart beats faster, realizing the domesticity of it all. 

you pinch your thigh to stop daydreaming about your friend. you tell yourself to just pay attention to your surroundings. 

the cashier is giggling at someone on the phone, there’s a cat meowing for something outside, the convenience store is rather empty, and you can hear minho clicking his tongue from across the store.

“nothing?” you ask and he nods.

“you know, there should be compounded interest in these things. i say one more extra pudding with every day that passes where you still haven't paid me back”, you offer a very bad deal for him. you continue pushing your luck. “besides, that was the last pudding. i was looking forward to eating it after a hard day at uni…”

minho raises his eyebrow at you.

“you’re a spoiled brat, you know that?” he chuckles.

“and you’re a thief! i’m just saying…” you add, still trying to convince him.

minho just shakes his head and gets some sparkling water for himself. you follow him to the counter and the cashier brings his phone down to scan his item.

“is that all?” he chews his gum with a smile while taking minho's money. minho nods. 

you’re looking at the other products near the counter. you notice the magnetic cat keyrings on the side and eye them closely. it’s a little too expensive. maybe you can convince minho to get this instead of the pudding.

“you need condoms too?” the cashier blurts out too casually and you can't help but get flustered at the implication.

“w-we don’t. we’re not- he-”

“i’ll take a pack. thank you”, minho says also too casually and you avoid looking at him while you head back to the table with both your groceries. 

it’s none of your business, really. you knew minho liked to fuck. well, most people your age do, it’s no big deal. there are multiple times when you wanna come over to his place but he’ll text you a little “busy” so you knew not to come. 

there was actually a time when you just strutted in his place without informing him, much like he is with you. it ended when you realized that of course he had a whole life that didn’t include you.

you were in his new apartment, relaxing in his bathroom since he could now afford an apartment with a bathtub. you were taking a warm bath, almost dozing off when you heard the door open and slam shut which was immediately followed by wet kisses and people bumping into furniture. 

you heard them giggling as they went inside minho’s room. you swore you felt your heart melting into the warm water and down the drain that you started to open after figuring out what was going on. and yet you can feel the familiar warmth in your belly because of the same, familiar person.

stupid lee minho with his stupidly soft voice. 

you moved as quietly as possible to get out of the tub but you’re sure they wouldn’t hear you anyway from all the moaning that’s going on. minho sounded a bit mean to the guy but that embarrassingly turned you on too. you felt like a creep squeezing your thighs in his bathroom after a few minutes of minho groaning and telling the stranger how much of a good pet he’s being for him. 

from then on you always told him every time you’re coming over. he doesn’t do the same to you, very much loving going in and out of your place like he pays for it. 

he knew you never brought anyone over anyway. minho teased you for your lack of love or “lust interests”, as he called it. that earned him a flying boba ball hurling from your straw and straight towards his cheek. your “lust life” isn’t his concern anyway. and it’s the same with him. minho liked to fuck and it’s not any of your business.

he stuffs the condoms and sparkling water in his bag of groceries. 

“let’s go”, he says while blinking at you. you head out and walk back again towards the train station.  

the wind was cool on his skin. you are right beside him, the air making your hair flutter as you talk about jisung calling you earlier this morning about some prank he pulled on changbin that minho hasn’t even heard of yet. 

you and jisung have already gotten closer since you two met on his birthday. and since then, minho kept appearing in your apartment more often so his title won’t be replaced.

he wanted to listen to your story. he really did. especially when it concerned his friends being absolute idiots. but all he heard was “jisungie”, “pink”, “butt”, and “burst” while the rest of your words were getting carried away by the cool wind.

he nods at every word with a smile, trying to focus as much as he can. but seriously, how can he when the light from the streetlamp is making your features soft and all perfect for him to stare at, and when you’re letting out airy giggles that interrupts the story itself.

he laughs at that. you clutch your stomach, as if his laugh pushed yours to intensify tenfold. you don't have to know he’s laughing at you and not whatever jisung did to make poor changbin suffer. 

you calm down after a few minutes and sit at a nearby bench with a sigh and a faint smile adorning your face.

“i can’t breathe. let’s sit for a while”, you say, eyes closed. 

your eyelashes are kissing your face and he has never wanted to imitate something so bad. at this point he doesn’t care where his thoughts wander to. he doesn’t think deeply about the implications. not when he can look at you right now.

a few silent seconds and then you jerk your head to the bushes on the right. he looks at you confused. a faint meow can be heard and you all but melt when you see a tiny kitten hiding but seemingly wanting attention. 

he holds in a deep breath as you call for the cautious little stray in front of you. he gives you a packet of the cat treat he always brings, and you gently coo at it so as to not scare the poor thing away.

“it’s okay, baby. you have to eat”, you say as you kneel in front of the little guy. he smiles at that.

he told you before that cats would feel less threatened if you make yourself smaller in front of them. you always listen so well. he realizes how both of your little habits, like feeding stray cats or doing groceries, have seemed to intertwine with one another over time.

you’re talking so sweetly to the cat and it overwhelms him. if he exhaled, he thinks he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from yelling or something.

the kitten comes closer, suspicious of the stranger offering him the food. he takes a sniff, you’re as still as possible, and it eventually licks the treat. you beam. your eyes turn to crescents and it’s the most overwhelming thing ever that he ends up finally exhaling but not before clenching his jaw so hard so he won’t be able to startle you or the kitten.

you start petting it and the little fellow allows him. he knows it’s the greatest honor in life for you. much like when soonie finally sat on your lap. eventually, he collects himself and the little stray allows him to pet it too.

“wish i could put every stray cat in my bag and take it home”, he says as the kitten starts purring like an engine.

“i’ll bring my bag too so we have space for more.”

minho smiles at your statement. the little guy keeps purring as minho rubs just under his ear. 

to his shock, this one suddenly jumps on your shoulders and nestles itself on top of your head. you go completely still, afraid that if you move it will jump back down. 

minho inhales so deep. he starts thinking you’ll make him break breath-holding records someday. 

he grabs your phone that he still somehow has, trying not to make the array of keychains jangle. you laugh at his attempts to not startle the kitten with your dangling keyrings. he takes hold of your phone and takes the picture.

you look at him, still smiling, and the little guy starts making biscuits on your head. minho keeps holding his breath. you try very hard to stay really still despite feeling the ball of fur tickling your scalp. you’re trying so hard not to laugh and squirm at the kitten’s massages and minho can’t help but sigh out all the air he’s been holding.

“marry me.” 

the words are out before he knows it. it takes him a second to realize what it meant. he looks at you and it’s so silent. you’ve gotten completely still and you’re no longer smiling as the kitten makes biscuits on your head. he can hear his heart beating too loud. he fucked up. 

he fucked up. stupid stupid stupid. the kitten jumps from your head and runs to a distant meowing sound, probably its mother, and you’re still completely unmoving. you’re blinking at him, an unreadable expression on your face.

he takes your grocery bags and puts them in your hands.

“i- i gotta go. text me when you get home”, he mutters, still not looking at you.

when you move on from the shock, minho was already across the street and heading inside the train station hurriedly.

what the fuck?

you get up, still confused, and you try running to get on the train he’s in. it shuts before you can, and you’re standing there on the platform, confused and worried.

the ride back home is too loud for minho. loud and fucking heavy. minho was never good with confrontations. he was never really good at expressing what he felt either. 

marry him? what the fuck? he never paused to really think about the possible feelings he might have towards you yet the words slipped out of his mouth anyway. it slipped out faster than he realized that he might actually like you. and when he did realize, it was immediately after saying those stupid words which was why he started panicking instead of the obvious choice of laughing it off.

but he fucked up and fucked up again when he left you there. minho groans, bags heavy in his lap, and the ride home felt longer than usual.

he remembers this is where he met you, right on this train on the way to university. it was a normal day, he was on the 6 am train and you were outside rushing to get on board with a “pleasepleaseplease” leaving your mouth. 

by your luck, or his, you made it inside and sigh in relief. 

minho noticed your damp hair, baggy hoodie, and ridiculous-looking pants with too many pockets. 

you were still breathing heavily and you're holding onto one of the poles. when you looked up, your eyes directly met his. 

he blinked at you before deciding to pat the empty seat next to him. by definitely his luck, you sat there even though there were other free seats.

“thank you”, you mumbled out shyly, avoiding his gaze. he just hummed. you made no advances to talk to him after that which made him a bit disappointed.

when he noticed you bringing out your phone to check your emails, he inwardly thanked the also ridiculous-looking keychains hanging on your phone case.

“isn’t that heavy?” he asked with a teasing tone.

you looked at the voice who just spoke to you and he couldn’t help but smile wider at the shudder laced in your words.

“w-what?” 

“your keychains.”

“oh, these”, you mumble and he nods. “they don’t feel heavy to me. actually, they feel too light for my liking? i want more. some of them i bought, some are given. it’s like a collecting-thing.”

he softly laughed at your rambling that you didn’t seem to notice.

“can i see?”

you handed him your phone and your hand brushed against his. your soft hands. he inspected the thing and gave you back your phone, making sure to brush his fingers past your hand again. 

“i have one in my backpack. would you want one?” minho offered.

“r-really?” 

minho laughed at your nervous state. why were you so nervous? 

“yeah. it’s probably buried in here though so i’m not sure if i can get it right now. i can give it to you some other time, maybe?”

“you don’t have to bother, really.”

“no. it’s cute. the keychains. it would be an honor.” minho said.

“i um.. i’m al- a student in the university at the next stop. i-”

“great! me too. i’ll look for it there.”

when you two got to the university, minho dug through his backpack for one of the keytags in there. he found it under layers of crumpled paper, then noticed his jureumi doodle on it. he handed it to you with a smile and you gladly took it.

“this is quite… interesting. you drew this?” you asked.

“yeah. i- yeah.”

you laughed and immediately stuck it on one of the other keyrings on your phone.

“there! i will make sure to take care of it”, you said, bowing at him in gratitude. 

“well, i gotta make sure that you make sure to take care of it. what time’s your break?”

the rest was history. the train beeps and announces his stop so he gets up and leaves. 

it’s been four days and he hasn’t seen you since. you messaged him that night telling him you got home to which he sighed in relief but he didn’t reply back, feeling too awkward to do so. 

he didn’t come over to your place either. he can’t face you after that. 

he supposes you’d either a) tease him about it and he can finally say it was a joke but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway which will drive you away; or b) act normal and pretend it never happened and he can be relieved but you’ll both know about how he feels anyway and he wouldn’t be able to stand ignoring it. 

you actually went with option b, he thinks. he knew you weren’t good at confrontation either. you messaged him the next day if you could come over like usual but he replied with “busy” so you don’t push. 

you tried again the next day, then the next, but he kept saying the same thing. you still asked earlier this morning, the fourth time now, and he was about to reply the same four letters until his phone came flying across the couch thanks to kim seungmin.

“do you wanna get sma-”

“i can’t stand it”, the boy interrupts.

minho still looks at him angrily and a bit confused.

“i really can’t stand it. you asked to hang out but i can tell you’re angry at something and you’ve been passive-aggressive the whole time”, seungmin finally breathes out.

“first of all, i asked jisung first but he said he was busy-” 

“there you go again. what’s wrong, minho?” seungmin interrupts again.

minho just sighs. he’s feeling a bit guilty now. seungmin always meant well. maybe that’s why he called him next. even if he sucked at confrontation, seungmin read people well and maybe he just needed someone to understand without him having to say it out loud. minho didn’t realize that and apparently, the younger man was already fed up.

“it’s y/n, isn’t it?” seungmin asked. minho closes his eyes. he really is too observant.

“jisung told me that she told him you have been ignoring her” oh nevermind. so jisung told him. minho sighs, not sure if he should say the words out loud.

“i… i think i love her.”

“you think?” 

seungmin is just baffled. he laughs at his friend’s stupidity and lack of awareness of his own emotions. 

minho groans.

“so why are you ignoring her?” seungmin sat more comfortably, although a bit far from the older boy, just in case he says something that would make minho wanna smack him with a pillow.

“i told her i wanted to marry her”, minho says quietly and seungmin can’t hold himself back from laughing but minho continues. “it’s so fucking stupid. i told her that and then i realized that maybe i liked her. i just stood there like an idiot then i left.”

it felt good to get the words out, he realizes. seungmin is still laughing with a hand clutching his stomach. minho throws a pillow at him and the younger boy calms down.

“you’re cute, minho. but you still didn’t answer my question. why are you ignoring her now?"

“didn’t i just tell you?”

“no?” seungmin interjects. “did she reject your ridiculous marriage proposal?” 

“i just told you i left.”

“and there it is. you had no right to leave! you weren’t the one to say yes!” seungmin shakes his head, still smiling.

minho never considered that maybe you liked him back. he just… never did. 

he recalls back to that time he met you on the train. from the first time he laid eyes on you, you piqued his curiosity. from your wet hair to your oversized pants with too much pockets to the keychains on your phone, he really wanted to get to know you better. when you told him you were free until your 12 noon class, that also spiked his interest because why the hell were you rushing to get on the 6 am train when your classes start six hours later? 

your childlike wonder made him immediately want to be your friend. he didn’t question it since his close friends are a bunch of grown men with the interests and loudness of children anyway. not that he's any different. 

so you two became friends. best friends over the span of two years. he was too afraid that two years is all he’d ever have with you so he didn’t consider that maybe, just maybe, that there's a chance kim seungmin is right.

he was about to speak up again before hearing his doorbell ring. 

“i got it”, seungmin says. 

instead of the pizza they were expecting, you were standing there, hair damp, and in pants with too much zippers this time. 

minho’s heart skips a beat. 

you look at seungmin then look at minho then look back at the guy in front of you. 

“i- i’m sorry-”

“no. it’s alright, y/n. i was just about to leave”, seungmin reassures you. 

seungmin goes back to the living room to gather his things that were scattered like he was definitely not about to leave. 

minho stays silent, finally picking up his phone from across the couch and he opens it to the unsent message on his screen.

seungmin gives you a goodbye and a quick hug, and minho grimaces at the action. since when did seungmin hug his friends? the door shuts and you’re heading towards him. 

he’s still. he can’t ignore you forever but he thinks he can’t face you too soon.

“look at me. i’m right in front of you and you’re still ignoring me?” you pout and minho finally looks up at you, your damp hair sticking to his shirt that you’re wearing.

you’re wearing his shirt. you really went with option b after all.

“you suck at proposals, you know?” you throw something on his lap and his eyes go to the familiar cat keychain that he saw you look at in the convenience store. “asking me to marry you and you didn’t even get me a ring.. tsk.”

your words barely sink in and his heart is still beating in a speed like never before. he looks up at you again and there you are, smiling down at him like you also feel the same.

“you-”

“yes, dumbass. i accept your horrible marriage proposal.” you’re grinning from ear to ear as you finally sit down on the couch next to him. you bring out your phone and show him the dangling other half of the magnetic keychain, attached to the jureumi keytag he gave you two years ago.

minho laughs. you accepted. you accepted the proposal that wasn’t really a proposal but more like a confession. you accepted it. you accepted him. he smiles wider at the ridiculousness of the moment.

“and i suppose these are the rings?” minho teases.

“mhm! want me to put it on your finger?” 

he laughs at that but nods. you insert the wide ring of the keychain on his finger and he giggles at the empty space.

“ya, you didn’t even get my ring size right!” he teases, eyes sparkling and heart practically bursting. he thinks he’s never been this happy.

“you really shouldn’t complain”, you retort back with a smile. “i mean, really, you proposed while i’m the one kneeling down, without rings, and then left! you’re hopeless, lee minho. at least i got us something”

minho grins while shaking his head.

“i’m sorry for leaving, y/n”, he takes your hand and kisses your fingers one by one. 

goosebumps run all over your body while his soft lips grace your skin. “in my defense, i didn’t know i’d be proposing.”

minho stops kissing your hand, taking your ring finger and inserting it into the empty space in the keychain right next to his.

“there. it fits perfectly.”

he looks at you, almost too fond, and you aren’t smiling anymore. you’re looking at him like you’re about to cry.

“you are so sappy. i’m in love with you, you know?” you whisper like it's a secret you are never meant to tell. minho looks at you and notices how glassy your eyes have become.

“shh. it’s okay.” 

he tucks a hair strand behind your ear. “i’m in love with you too. good for us, honestly. wouldn’t want us to marry when we don’t love each other.”

he’s sure your soft laughter is better than any music ever heard in this world.

“can i hug you?” you ask him shyly. 

the butterflies in his stomach are going crazy at that point but he lets out a chuckle at your question. he doesn’t quite understand how you’re still able to get so shy with him after all this time.

“you don’t have to ask.”

“i know, but just to be su-” minho interrupts you, removing the keychain from your fingers and quickly maneuvering you on top of his lap. you squeak and he encages you in a tight embrace.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders in return and you just about melt into his hug.

“you smell so good”, minho mutters while burying his nose into your neck. 

your previously damp hair that is now dry made him aware of your fresh-out-of-the-shower scent, and he inhales you in so deep, wanting to stay there forever. he can’t help but press a lingering kiss on your neck.

you whimper at the unexpected kiss. minho smiles at your reaction and peppers a few more kisses. you being so close to him is much better than smelling your scent in your bathroom. his lips continue kissing and he feels you let go of the hug, deciding to grip onto the material of his hoodie instead.

“minho”, you sigh, trying to even your breathing. 

“mm? what’s the matter?” he gets lost in your scent and decides that him inhaling isn’t enough. he licks the skin and groans at the shiver that runs through your whole body. “you’re so sensitive..”

he can feel you gripping the fabric tighter. he chuckles right next to your ear and that simple thing makes you shiver again which further amuses him.

minho licks another spot and he was about to suck on it, but someone rings the doorbell. he ignores it with a huff and proceeds to suck on the area. you let out a tiny moan and he smiles, sucking on it a bit harder. 

to both of your dismay, the doorbell rings again and minho gathers all his self-restraint to remove himself from you. 

he kisses your neck one last time before removing you from his lap. the grumpy look on his face is evident as he gets up to see what was so important that he was interrupted from marking you.

apparently it was the pizza that seungmin ordered. he thanked the delivery guy with a tip, and placed the food on the table.

you’re focused, putting the other half of the magnetic keychain on his phone case. he feels his heart melting.

“seungminnie ordered this with his money. i suppose we can enjoy this.” he grins at the mention of eating seungmin’s food and you just nod while blinking at him slowly with a blank expression. “or maybe we can eat this later.”

minho hovers over your figure and encages you on the couch. you’re just looking at him, smiling like a fool with dazed eyes. 

“you wanna continue, pretty girl?” minho asks in that sickeningly sweet tone. you could’ve sworn that there was concern laced in his voice if his hand wasn’t rubbing your thigh firmly which definitely overwhelmed you some more.

“min, i..” you start speaking but the rest of your sentence dies in your throat as you look at his hand inching higher. 

“mm?” he smiles down at you, noticing your hands digging into his couch. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll take care of you. will you let me?”

you nod at him. minho smiles. 

“but i… i’m not sure-”

“if you’re not ready right now, it’s okay. we can just eat-”

“no!” you interrupt him quickly. “it’s okay. i mean, i want it. now. i just- i’m not sure if i can be good? i don’t know what to do.”

minho’s heart skips a beat at your words. you’re just too cute. how can you ever think you won’t be good? you’re already being so good right now.

“shh. it’s okay. you’re already perfect. i said i’ll take care of you, yeah?” minho kisses your forehead and you know for sure that everything his lips touch makes you a bit dizzy.

“sorry. i’m acting like i don’t know shit. but like, practically, i don’t? i’m not a virgin but i- i uh i’ve only slept with one person so far.”

he giggles at your nervous rambling. you’re too adorable.

“yeah. you mentioned that before. it’s okay, pretty. don’t be nervous. it’s just me.”

“i didn’t tell you it was with a…  woman. the person i lost it to. so i, um, i don’t know how to handle stuff with a guy.” you confess.

minho’s cock twitches at the confession. not a single guy. he’s the first man you’ll ever have. you notice his jaw clench and he squeezes your thigh.

“you still want me?” minho asks, hoping for the obvious answer.

“want you now.”

minho nods and finally kisses you on the lips. 

your lips are so soft against his. it’s so soft and perfect and somehow familiar. 

he’s kissing you like it’s something he’s been practicing for his whole life. he lifts you from the couch, carrying you in his arms. your lips are slotted against each other. he licks over it and you let a moan escape making his tongue slip inside.

your mouth is so fucking perfect. so wet and so warm. his cock envies his tongue at the moment and he hurriedly opens the door to his bedroom. 

he lays you down on the bed and you let out a little stretch. he laughs at your cuteness.

“take it off.” you point at his clothes. he has such a smug look on his face. this can’t be happening. no, this really is. 

he removes his shirt and lays on top of you. 

he’s so beautiful like this. you trace your fingers on his skin, mouth agape at your crazy hot best friend, looking down at you with a smile. you trace the scar on his abdomen that somehow makes him prettier. minho laughs at your actions.

he takes your wandering hands and pins them right beside you. he kisses you again in the same breath, harder, messier, more forceful as if he wants to consume you whole. you whine into the kiss and he all but swallows your noises, licking and biting and sucking all over your mouth. 

when minho’s hands let go of your pinned arms, you scramble to hold onto his shoulders. he kisses down your neck, hands touching everywhere and eventually bunching up the fabric of his shirt you’re wearing, up and over your head. 

“shit.”

his mouth kisses all the way down to your collarbones, then to your shoulders, and he pulls one of the straps down, kissing the spot where the bra strap was. 

“minho, need you already.” you desperately sigh while tugging at his hair. he kept kissing all over your shoulders and down your chest, before pulling down the cups and letting your breasts spill out. his jaw clenches. even better than he thought.

“i know, baby. but let me take my time, yeah?” he says sweetly with a furrow in his brows before groping one of your tits and licking your nipple. he feels you whine and shudder at the sensation. “fuck.”

he keeps his hands full of them, continuing to lick and suck while humming in content. 

at that point you can no longer help but squeeze and scratch his shoulders.

minho lets go of your nipple and grins.

“kitty likes to scratch? is this too much?” he says with fake concern in his voice while he pinches the hardened bud. your eyes close, hands gripping him tighter because of how sensitive he’s making you

“i asked you a question, baby. look at me when i ask you a question.” he brings himself back up to look at your cute face all scrunched up, his hand stroking your cheek with his thumb. this is too much. how can he be demanding yet fucking soft about it?

you open your eyes, brows furrowed in frustration.

“there we go. now answer. is this too much?” he goes back to your chest again, slowly this time, dragging his finger downwards. when he reaches your breast, he encircles your nipple and rubs it lightly, his feather-light touch making you tremble. 

“yes”, you whined. “minho-”

he suddenly pinches hard and rolls it in between his fingers. you moan out loud and he chuckles, admiring how much of a mess he’s already made of you.

he unclasps your bra and dives his tongue into your mouth again while his fingers pull down the zipper on your pants. he tugs it off but is met with resistance. confused, he breaks away from the kiss and sees that it was the wrong zipper. you giggle after realizing what happened.

“you and your weird pants.” he zips down the proper zipper this time, and pulls it down along with your underwear. 

your jumpy thighs immediately close at the cool air in his room but he spreads them wide for him, negating your attempts.

“shit, you’re made for me.” he runs a finger through your folds, gathering the slick that formed and spreading it all over your cunt. “so wet, baby. knew you’d leak for me just right.”

you bite your lip, muffling your sounds when his fingers come into contact with your pussy. he takes a thumb to your clit and rubs. 

“min-”

“i know, baby. it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” he coos, applying more pressure. “i’ll play with it for a bit. you’ll let me, yeah?”

minho’s position in between your legs kept you from your poor attempts of bringing your thighs together. he pinches your clit softly and your hips jerk even more.

“you can’t keep still, can you?” minho chuckles. “it’s okay, i’ll make you.”

minho lays down, eyes right above your cunt. he spreads your pussy with two of his fingers before diving in for a taste. he groans. too fucking good.  

your thighs enclose his head. he takes both of his arms to hold your hips down while he greedily laps at your cunt. 

“mmh” he mumbles onto your wetness, alternating between lingering flicks to your clit, licking down to gather more of your slick, then back above. “hold your legs, baby. be good for me, yeah?”

you listen to him, hooking your hands below your knees. you’re crying out his name and he takes it upon himself to add his fingers to the mix. 

he slips his middle finger inside, groaning at the resistance. god, your’e so fucking tight. his tongue starts sucking on your clit and you whine for him so cutely. he buries the whole finger in, making you gasp, and he temporarily releases you from his mouth.

“mm. there we go.”

minho is already drunk on your cunt at this point. he goes back to licking and sucking and thrusting and playing with it like he said he would. 

he adds another finger afterwards and starts scissoring you open. 

one specific curl of his fingers gets you moaning his name, more high-pitched than the previous ones. he chuckles directly on your pussy and does it again while simultaneously dragging his teeth across your clit.

you thrash under him, gripping under your legs harder, still following what he told you to do. so obedient. 

minho is fucking livid. he’s messy with it. you can feel his heavy tongue and plump lips all over you. your moans are getting more frequent, your legs starting to shake.

“you feel it baby?” minho says in between licks, his fingers continuing to abuse that one spot. you think you’re about to burst.

“min- please. i’ll-”

“cum on my tongue.” he orders and your body follows him. you cum so dizzyingly hard and minho continues dragging his hot tongue on your cunt. you let go of your thighs and push his head crying about it being too much.

he pulls off with a smile, licking his fingers that were just in you. intoxicating.

you’re breathing heavily, eyes closed from the intense orgasm and thighs practically vibrating. your hair is messy on his sheets, parts of your sucked red and purple, your pussy glistening because of him. all of it, because of him. you’re so fucking insatiable. 

he runs his hand up your shaking thighs and you flinch at his touch. he rubs his hand on your swollen clit and you flinch harder, still sensitive. 

“poor baby is twitching. can’t wait to be buried right here.” he drags his hand up from your cunt to your lower belly and pushes down. you squirm. after a while, you finally open your eyes and look at him.

he’s smiling wide, mouth a whole mess, even his nose was a bit wet because of you. you’d be embarrassed but he’s so fucking pretty and it turns you on even more.

“n-need a moment, min.” you say in a hushed tone, still trying to even your breathing. minho nods and lies down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear again. how is he so soft?

“take your time. you’re so beautiful all spread like this.” his voice is so fond. “could stare at you all day.”

“you’re pretty too.” you tell him with a smile, eyes traveling down his form. 

he’s still wearing his sweatpants and you notice his dick poking through it. your curious hands travel down his stomach to the bulging outline in his pants. minho hisses and grabs your hand.

“you’re going to drive me insane.” minho is too fucking hard and he’s trying his best to wait since you needed your moment. but the way you look in front of him, fully naked with your innocent eyes and soft hands wanting to grab his dick, he might just lose it.

“wanna see it, min. can i?” you ask. 

you’re a goddamn angel. you’re asking permission and that somehow makes his cock twitch. he can’t really resist you, not when you’re looking at him like that. and not like he wanted to anyway. 

he sits against his headboard, motioning you to sit on his lap. he rubs your thighs gently. you’re so warm on top of him. so pretty. 

“pull it out then.” 

with shaky hands, you pull down his sweatpants just enough to pull his hard cock out. he bites his lip when your soft fucking hands touch his dick. he can feel his ego inflating when you gasp and look at it with wide eyes. 

he’s big. you haven’t seen a lot of dicks but you know it's big. thicker than what you’ve seen in the media, and a bit more than average in length.

“it’s..”

“hm?”

“it’s really pretty like you.” 

minho laughs at your statement. you have his hard cock in your soft hands and you’re calling him pretty. you’re too fucking cute. 

you notice it’s already leaking a considerable amount. you swipe experimentally at the tip and he grips your thighs harder.

“baby”, he speaks in warning.

“mm?” you continue caressing his dick, admiring how his thigh muscles clench and his breathing hitches.

“don’t be a brat. you said you needed a moment.”

“but you’re so sensitive here too?” you return the faux concern to him. you squeeze just below the tip and he moans. “wanna play with it, min. like you did with me.”

oh? you’re getting bold? minho clenches his jaw, glaring at you. he wanted you to stop before he cums too soon, but your soft and warm fucking hands felt too good on his cock. he tries to distract you.

“grab a condom from my drawer, baby.” thankfully, you obey. you notice it’s the new condoms. who knew he really was gonna use it for you.

you open the foil, and he guides you to slip it down his cock. eventually, you start stroking him again and he whimpers.

“see? you like it!” you say confidently while minho’s brain starts glitching. “you’re gonna lay there for me, won’t you?”

you’re getting cocky. and somehow it’s turning him on more. you’re on top of him acting like a big girl. he likes that. he’ll put you back in place eventually.

“yeah? you wanna play?” 

you nod with a faint smile, still softly stroking his dick.

“we’ll play on my own terms, pretty.”

he grabs your hips with rough palms and sits you right on top of his cock. both of you moan at the wetness. he grips your hips and grinds you down. 

“minho-” you whine, gripping onto his shoulders. 

you’re squirming again, trying to get out of his hold on. your clit is still a bit sensitive from earlier yet he’s dragging it on his wet cock like he wants it to overwhelm you. minho grunts.

“said you wanted to play with it. you don’t like this?” minho says, his voice like honey right next to your ear. 

he’s fucking pressing you down on it. your thighs are so fidgety but his strong hands are still holding your hips down, making you take it.

you just whimper and he laughs.

“your moment passed, baby. i’m gonna fuck you now.”

minho swiftly pins you down under him, tapping his cock on your clit.

“shit, min-”

“you ready, baby?”

“still sensitive. don’t know if i’ll last”, you answer honestly. minho kisses your forehead.

“it’s alright, y/n. it’s just me.”

you nod at him and he collects your slick on his cock, hissing through his teeth. he pushes one of your legs up, his other hand slowly inching the tip in your entrance.

“fuck.”

you’re clutching the sheets. it fucking hurts. you’re both so wet against each other but his huge fucking cock felt too much.

“hurts, min.”

minho hums, stopping his movements. his tip is already in, and he starts to press soft kisses on your neck again. 

he rubs on your clit and you twitch under him, inserting his cock in you even more slowly. 

you’re so fucking tight. tight and wet and fucking perfect. you’re clenching so hard on him, he can barely slip inside without using his hand to guide him in. he’s breathing heavily above you, and he notices you stopped breathing altogether.

“baby, breathe.” he caresses your thigh softly. “i know it hurts but i promise it’s gonna be good later. breathe for me. try to relax.”

his soft voice is washing over your senses. you nod as you try to follow his words. who knew taking his cock would be so fucking hard? 

“there you go. not used to taking big cocks, huh?” minho teases which gets you laughing airily. “i suppose you’re not used to taking cocks at all. so i should really make this good for you.”

you take a moment to try and focus on something else other than that thing penetrating you. you look at minho smiling down at you, eyes fucking sparkling like he’s waited for this his whole life. he’s really so beautiful. if you knew he’d look this pretty for you right from the start, you would’ve approached him sooner on the train. it doesn’t matter though. you have him now.

“you can try moving again.” you softly mutter.

minho rubs on your clit a bit more firmly, and keeps whispering in your ear while situating himself inside.

“so good, baby. you have no idea.”

“you’re clenching so much. try to relax. for me? don’t wanna cum while i’m not even halfway inside you.”

“shit, feels perfect in here.”

“there we go. shh sh, it’s alright you’re doing so well.”

“just a few more. still hurts?”

“feels full? i know, pretty. but just a bit more.”

he talks you through it and you swear your mind is already fuzzy by the time he bottoms out.

“you took it all. i’m so proud of you.” he says with a kiss on your cheek. he feels your cunt clench around him at his words and he smiles.

“min- fuck, it’s so deep.”

“i know. let me know if i can move, yeah?” minho is gripping onto the sheets. you’re so fucking snug and wet around his cock. it’s better than any fucking thing ever. he could stay buried here. 

after a few soft kisses and involuntary clenches, you decide that you’re ready for him to move. minho pushes your leg higher, dragging himself out and slowly sliding back in with a little force. 

“shit, minho.”

“you’re so tight. fucking gripping me.”

minho repeats the motions, slow but hard, and soon enough you’re squeezing his arms and moaning his name. you can feel him rub against a certain spot and you’re sure you’re about to explode.

“p-please go faster.”

“you sure?”

“yes, min. fuck- just. please.”

minho kneels and presses both of your legs to your chest. he slips his cock inside you hard and gets to a pace quicker than before. he fits so well. you start screaming from him as his dick rubs against your g-spot even better and he starts kissing your mouth again. he licks and sucks on your tongue, and lifts your hips a bit higher and angles his hips a bit differently then rams his cock into you.

“f-fuck, minho. n-not so hard.” you cry out, wincing at the pain of him nudging your cervix. it’s fucking painful. minho apologizes and pulls out, rubbing his head on your clit to get your mind off the pain.

“i wanna try something. wanna take you from behind. you alright with that?” minho says softly.

“o-okay.” you nod, and minho presses a sweet kiss to your lips before flipping you over.

he manhandles you to a position he likes, ass up, face down, spreading your legs a bit wider. you’re a dream. he taps his tip on your pussy, which gets your whining, before slipping inside and continuing his pace.

you’re squirming and moaning much more. somehow, his dick felt even better in this position. minho grabs your ass and thrusts just how he likes. you’re crying out his name.

“mmm. letting me do this to you.. you like taking big cocks, baby?” he says, gripping your bruised hips so tight like it’s his job. you’re nodding, hair messy all over his pillows.

“o-only yours.” you cry out loud. you’re already drooling but he can’t see that.

“that’s right. only mine. i’ll train you to please it. train you to crave it. you’ll like that, won't you?”

he angles his hips and slams into that fucking spot which gets you twitching under him.

“i asked you a question, baby. what did i tell you to do when i ask you a question?”

he gets one of his hands to pull both your arms together, tugging so your head would be lifted up. minho takes his other hand, holding your jaw firmly. you look behind you, staring at him, and he sees how fucking beautiful you are. your cheeks are stained with tears, your chin wobbling with drool over them, your eyes glassy and dazed from how good he’s fucking you.

“that’s right. thought you forgot.” he keeps thrusting and you’re moaning so loud as if it’s the only thing you’re good for. “so? would you like that? train you to be mine?”

minho is so fucking mean. 

you try to answer. you really do. but every time your mouth moves, he just slams into that spot that gets you moaning his name instead.

“can’t even speak?” minho laughs and decides to let go of your face. you fall back into the pillows. 

“i’ll let it slide for now since i have to make sure to fuck you good.”

he carries on with his thrusts. you’re trying so hard to prolong your orgasm, not wanting this to end. he starts groping your tits from behind you, his other hand rubbing your clit in quick motions. fuck. 

minho is so close. your pussy is so fucking wet and the recoil of your ass from his thrusts is driving him insane. you can’t control your moans and he knows you’re close as well.

“you close, baby?” he huffs.

“yes, min. i’m- s-o close.”

“hold it.” 

you fucking groan. minho’s brows are furrowed, he’s focusing on your wet fucking cunt squelching so loud from his rubbing and thrusting. your legs start to shake violently, minho slaps your ass from how fucking dirty you look and feel around him.

“min, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“no-”

“just a little more. you’re cumming with me.”

minho is thrusting like a mad man. his grip on you is so tight, and you’re fucking begging for him to let you cum.

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“cum.”

you jerk violently under him while moaning his name, and he’s cumming. he’s cumming so fucking hard. harder than he ever had in his life. it’s so good. so fucking addicting. he’s moaning in your ear, you’re clenching around him so hard and it’s so wet and overwhelming. he tries to pull out but you’re gripping his cock fucking tightly like you’re made to keep him there. he feels himself weaken and he slumps on top of you. 

it takes him a few moments to regain himself, and he slowly removes himself from inside you.

you were in a faraway place. your body feels too light, but also so heavy that you can’t move. you can’t think either. you feel minho flipping you on your back. he’s talking so sweetly but you can’t really register his words while he kisses your lips, then your nose, then your forehead, then the top of your head.

he mutters something about cleaning you both and you’re too far away to respond. it’s good. you feel fucking great. after a while, the bed dips and he’s running a warm cloth in between your thighs. 

you’re so pretty, he thinks. like his personal angel. you’re laying their dazed, and he thinks he’s the luckiest fucking person in the world. he can see your eyes getting droopy, about to pass out from the amazing sex you both had. 

minho dresses you both, and wraps you in his blanket.

“you’re too cute. i’ll be here when you wake up.” 

after a few hours, you wake up with your entire body aching. it’s usual for you since you manage to sleep in odd positions. but this time, it ached in new places. you chuckle at the memory. you sit back up and rub your eyes.

minho enters his room, glad that you’re already awake. 

“sleep well?”

you nod. you notice he’s carrying a paper bag in his hands. minho drops it on his desk and heads to your soft form on his bed. he kisses you on the mouth and you freeze with a blush.

minho notices and laughs at you.

“i already had my tongue in you and you’re blushing at a little kiss?” he smiles widely. his words make you blush more.

“you took me by surprise is all...” you try defending yourself. you know you wouldn’t get used to your friend being so physically intimate with you any time soon. you can’t help but feel all shy.

it’s minho, for fuck’s sake. your asshole friend who keeps stealing your food and taking horrible pictures of you. but that’s exactly why. 

it’s minho. your asshole friend who’s too sweet and pretty and funny for his own good.

“what’s going through your pretty head?” minho asks, tracing his fingers on your bare thigh.. your smooth thigh he can now touch like this.

“i can’t believe we skipped the marriage and went straight to the honeymoon” you tease. he laughs with you.

“yeah we kinda suck at this. skipping the boyfriend-girlfriend phase and straight to engagement..” minho mumbles with a smile while kissing your bruised neck. “then skipping the marriage and straight to consummation.”

you shiver while giggling at his kisses. you’re so sensitive for him. he likes that.

“wouldn’t have it any other way.” you say. 

his hands inch higher and higher on your thighs until he gets interrupted by the grumble of your stomach. both of you laugh.

“we have all the time in the world to continue later. let’s get you fed.” minho grins, pulling you from the bed. 

“oh and”, minho smiles widely, giving you the paper bag. you look at the contents with a grin of success on your face. “there’s your pudding. compounded.”

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a/n: that was a lot. stretch a bit, drink some water, wash your face. that's what i did after writing lololol. i rlly hope this wasn't too much.. ALSO i tagged ppl who were asking for a part 2. if u want to get removed pls lmk!

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tags: @stayinlimbo @all4minnie @emmaluvsjisung @ddiidi @8bigguys @sunnysidesins

[karinasbaby]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 — BED 박성훈

"strawberry lingerie, waiting for you strawberries, lingerie."

PAIRING: fiance!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+)

WARNING: pool sex, breath play, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, make out sessions, hickeys, cursing, petnames, lots of praising cuz he's in love, semi public sex?, slight shower sex, jealous & possessive hoon, jake makes a mini appearance, so does winter (aespa), and so does hee, my miserable attempt at angst & fluff, food play, oral (f), breeding, mentions of pregnancy and slight lactation kink, just nasty stuff.

WORD COUNT: 7.8k (what.)

SYNOPSIS: your fiance, sunghoon insisted on a "mini honeymoon" before your wedding preparations took over your time, so how would your day go now that you're on an island thousands of miles away from home with sunghoon?

A. NOTE: hey y'all.. surprise ! idk what this is either all that i know is that i've had this idea for months, anyways this is for all my hoon stans and babygirls i love you. (i apologise from the bottom of my heart for making jake a a fucking CREEP but someone had to be sacrifcied :( i love u jake <3)

"got a kiss with your name on it,"

you and sunghoon have been in a relationship for the past four years, being with sunghoon truly was a blessing as he was an incredibly understanding, attentive, caring and a very loving boyfriend.

to put it short he is a real sweetheart,

your personality mixed and clashed with his perfectly, time spent with sunghoon flew by without either of you noticing, it felt like you've known each other for decades though its only been a handful of years,

so when sunghoon finally proposed to you, practically everyone saw it coming from miles away, to the point where sunghoon had some 'finally!'s thrown into his congratulations from his friends and family after you broke down the elating news,

both of you were over the moon after his proposal as you two were officially together and were on the gates of being a newly wed couple where you both vow for life to each other,

and before both of you got distracted by the big day preparations, sunghoon so generously insisted on a 'mini honeymoon' before the stress and tiring days of the preparations swooped both of you away from each other for weeks, maybe even months.

which is how you found yourself in this predicament, pushing inside your suitcase after sunghoon's on the dark oak floors of the forest facing house that sunghoon rented for the rest of the week, taking in the dark and wooden interior along with the floor to ceiling windows that exposed the kitchen accompanied by the living room to the forest, you could also see a mini pool placed right outside the balcony,

before you could bring back your attention to your suitcase and explore the rooms, you felt a familiar pair of hands snaking around your waist, sunghoon's arms wrapped around you delicately, keeping you in a strong hold as he whispered into your ear, "like the view baby?"

"i love it," you whispered back, your eyes entranced by the view of the sunrise peeking behind the dark green leaves of the massive pine trees decorating the vast land of the forest in large masses, the sky being painted in multitude shades of pink and orange, each colour reflected off your face beautifully as sunghoon's loving eyes gazed at your pleased expression,

smiling happily at your words and satisfaction, he loved making you happy.

"go into the pool first, i'll join you in a minute, angel." he spoke against your ear before placing a gentle kiss onto your temple, his warm embrace untangling from around you, nodding at his words before walking towards the glass door, as you slid it open to allow the warm breeze to brush against your skin, you stripped completely before advancing into the lukewarm water, soft crystal ripples surrounding your frame while you edged towards the corner of the pool,

peering at the sunrise from the parted branches as the light mirrored against the surface of the water around you, your heart drummed against your chest as this was the first of many upcoming vacations that you were to venture out on alone with sunghoon, excitement bubbling in you at the possibility of all events that could unfold with your lover,

before your thoughts and imagination trailed further, you heard his footsteps approaching you, walking next to the pool as you took in his larger frame gazing at you, "what a sight to walk into," he breathed out while you chuckled at his words, signaling him to join you with a motion of your fingers making him waste no time in stripping himself bare, his hoodie and sweatpants along with underwear discarded carelessly around the balcony as he allowed your eyes to take him in all his glory,

the sight of his sculpted body bare for your eyes never failed to make you blush, sunghoon dipped into the water his body approaching yours in a blur, arms wrapping around your body as he closed off all possible space between the two of you, he breathed out a sigh of relief at the calming feeling of your body so close to his,

"i can't wait to spend the whole week with you, baby" he spoke out amidst him placing his head on your shoulder gently, your hands on instinct trailed around his shoulders, softly massaging his skin beneath your fingers while his lips brushed against your neck with each word,

his body heat making yours warmer in the cool water as you smiled at his words, "yeah? what are your plans?" replying back to him while you busied yourself with pulling at the shorter hairs along his nape faintly, "i'm keeping them as surprises" he responded while smiling, you paused your touches making him blink up at your faux pouting expression, "at least tell me one?" you asked, blinking through your eyelashes at him in hopes of convincing him, sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully before his gaze darkened,

his hold on your waist tightening whilst he pushed ever inch of his body against yours, "hold your breath for me, angel," he spoke lowly, inching his face closer to yours making you close your eyes as his lips brushed against yours, you breathed in a deep breath, following his words, "let's see how long you can last" was the last thing he spoke out before he dragged both of your bodies beneath the slightly cooled water,

goosebumps arose on your skin at the feeling of the colder water engulfing your body entirely contrasting the feeling of sunghoon's warmer body that he pressed against you, the moment both of you had sunk down, sunghoon dipped his head towards your lips, you held yourself from gasping out as his soft pillowy lips pressed firmly against yours,

sunghoon going far enough to teasingly lick your bottom lip, the lack of oxygen had your head spinning while he still held you beneath the water, clearly testing your limits as one of hands untied from your waist and began to delicately fondle your breast, his fingers brushing against your hardened nipple as he continued to taunt your body while you began to squirm in his hold,

seconds marched by as you felt a burning sensation spread over your chest while sunghoon's hand dipped lower, brushing pleasantly at your soaked folds, the feeling of his hands caressing and fondling your skin combined with the absence of air made your head spin, your dizziness increasing at the feeling of sunghoon's lips part from yours only to lower and bite at your neck whilst his finger was poking teasingly at your entrance,

with the burning sensation on your chest increasing, you pinched his arm as you felt your chest constricting, sunghoon hastily loosened his hold before he allowed both of your bodies to float towards the surface, gasping in desperation as you heaved in air, sunghoon himself breathing heavily against you as he grounded himself from his own lightheadedness, "didn't last that long, huh?" he mockingly asked as if he wasn't breathing in heaves of air,

"didn't expect your 'plans' to include murdering me" you replied back, closing your eyes in attempts to regulate your breathing while sunghoon chuckled against your neck, before sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, "i have other plans now, baby," he spoke lowly,

not giving you the chance to speak, sunghoon pushed his body against yours completely for a second time, this time allowing his hardened length that was standing proudly against his lower stomach to press against your abdomen, gasping quietly at his movements, sunghoon's hands loosened from around you, "come help me with my plan now, angel," sunghoon said as he leaned against the wall of the pool, resting his elbows in the edge behind him as water droplets cascaded down from his dark wet locks down to his broad chest,

the sight of his hooded gaze peeking at you through his strands almost made your knees buckle, you followed after him, sunghoon's love filled eyes following your every move as you stood in front of him, his frame towering over yours once you wrapped your hands around his neck to kiss him properly this time,

connecting your lips to his tenderly made sunghoon's hands drop from the edge to grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin when you began to suck on his bottom lip, altering from gently biting his lip to swallowing all of his low moans, whilst you busied yourself with his mouth, sunghoon's hand went lower to hold onto the back of your thigh,

lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, the change in position allowed his rock hard length to land directly against your dripping folds, both of you moaning at the feeling of his tip pressing against your entrance, "let me hear you, darling," he spoke against your kisses, dizzy by your continued suckling on his swollen lips, you parted from his mouth to allow all of your pretty sounds that he adored to fall from your lips the moment he pushed in his tip further against your welcoming soaked walls,

lustrous half lidded eyes studied all of the expressions painting across your face at the feeling of his length invading your walls, sunghoon's jaw dropped as he mimicked your expressions, breathing heavily at your tightness engulfing him when he bottomed out completely,

his other hand wrapped around your waist to keep you in place while his other tightened around the plush skin of your thigh, frailly beginning to rock his hips against yours while moving yours to match with his soft thrusts, his lips lazily locked around your shoulders, marking the skin sweetly whilst all your groans and moans landed perfectly on his ears, his length rubbing against all of the spots that had you seeing stars before thrusting out with only the tip remaining, he repeated this routine as both of you felt your lower stomachs tightening,

impending highs creeping up on you, while sunghoon quickened his pace, his mouth now occupied with sucking dark marks along your neck, beautiful blueish red marks decorating the expanse of your chest up to your neck, occasionally biting to make you gasp adorably against his ears, he swiftly moved your other thigh to wrap around his waist, your legs easily floating and wrapping around his waist beneath the rippling water, his tip pressing against your cervix deliciously in this position making you cry out his name,

"i'm right here, angel," he spoke against your neck, hips pressing against yours harshly, sunghoon was fully hugging you now while he pounded into you, ripples gradually turning into small waves travelling across the surface of the pool as both of you neared your highs, your cries fell into his ear while his continuous praises fell against yours, your body jerked in his hold, thighs trembling around his waist as you felt your orgasm right around the corner,

"h-hoon, i'm so c-close," you mewled out as his thrusts only began to turn rougher, almost pushing him over the edge with your weak voice crying out his nickname oh so sweetly, his own body shook as he felt his climax impossibly closer, his nails digging onto every inch of skin they touched whilst you desperately held onto him,

"i've got you, angel, i'm right here, baby," he croaked out needily into your ear, his weak voice combined with his nails clawing in despair whilst he held onto you as his thrusts became sloppy and his hips trembled against yours were enough to push you over the edge, the familiar tightening of your walls when you gushed around him dragged out his climax from him in a breathtaking manner,

sunghoon instantly locked his lips onto your swollen red ones as he dipped you below the water yet again, thick ropes of white, warm cum pushed out right against your cervix as your walls clung almost painfully around his length, the sudden loss of air made both of your climaxes take entirely over your body,

clutching onto his shoulders when he continued thrusting, his tongue riskily pressing inside of your mouth as you felt dizziness take over your body from your orgasm and the cold water engulfing you, lungs burning when you felt yourself seconds away from blacking out, slipping further from reality when sunghoon's hand sneaked downwards to toy with your clit, prolonging your dizzying high even further, relishing in the way you bit down harshly at his bottom lip,

sunghoon made you both ride out your orgasms, mouth still pressed against yours while tears prickled in the corners of your closed eyes, before you could pinch him again he quickly made you rise to the surface, your weak body slumping against his as he held you up, having the audacity to chuckle breathlessly at your fucked out expression, "darling, we haven't even started yet," he spoke out as he attempted to regulate his breathing, too tired to respond you only left his comment with a harsh pinch onto his shoulders that you were holding onto, earning a pained laugh from him,

sunghoon quickly walked towards the other edge facing the house, grabbing onto the towels he discarded once he walked into the balcony, he carefully walked out of the pool with your body wrapped around his, using a towel large enough to cover your slightly shaking body to shield you from the cold breeze along with his,

"let's go shower then we'll take a nap, alright angel?" he whispered softly into your ear, hands loosening around you when you nodded against him, he walked into the shower, dark interior extending into the bathroom, he gently placed you down after he removed the soaked towel, arm wrapped around your waist in support as he stepped beneath the large rectangular shower head,

warm water cascaded down both of your cold bodies, the slight numb feeling in your fingers disappearing whilst the water poured, sunghoon's larger frame wrapped around yours, love-struck eyes entranced by the sight of your blissed out face, with your eyes closed you wrapped your arms around his waist, his length remained between your thighs as he hold you close to him, allowing your bodies to warm up,

"'did so well for me, angel" he praised, loving gaze still stuck on you as you completely clouded his thoughts, "my pretty, perfect, angel" his voice continued to spill out praises lowly, squirming in his hold at his sweet words his hold on you tightened, holding himself back from moaning once your thighs brushed against his sensitive length,

you stopped your movement once you felt his semi hard length pressing against you, frozen as you looked up at him to see sunghoon's sultry gaze already locked on yours with his face flushed, "you're so needy today," you lowered your face, chuckling against his chest, when he grumbled, "you drive me crazy, angel" he groaned out, "i can tell," you responded, sneaking your hand between your bodies you grabbed his length before placing it between your folds, "baby-" sunghoon began, wanting to protest as he didn't want to tire you out, you shushed him your your finger, rocking your hips slowly against his allowing his cock to slip against your soaked folds,

sunghoon moaned lowly at the feeling of his cum dripping out from your cunt to rub against his length, your warmth gently stroking him whilst pearly precum dripped out from his reddened tip, mixing with the water, "fuck- baby, just like that," he moaned out once you began to move quicker, clenching your thighs to squeeze his cock perfectly,

"so fucking perfect for me, angel" he began to babble out once he felt the tensing feeling in his abdomen, "every part of you is so perfect," he breathed out needily, you stared at his expressions before he threw his head back, the hot droplets landing directly on his flushed face, cascading to drip down his neck, through the dim lighting you could see the expanse of his chest revealed entirely before your hungry eyes, without a second thought you dipped towards his neck, trailing soft kisses along his pale, smooth skin making him moan breathily, "i'm so c-close, angel, keep going," he choked out, imminent climax tightening in his lower stomach familiarly, his body trembled against yours as you continued to stroke his length,

sunghoon was in pure euphoria, you continued your ministrations, completely pushing him over the edge, his grip on your hips became firmer, he began to quicken your pace even further once he felt his high wash over his shaking body fully, breathy moans echoing throughout the bathroom as his cum trickled down your inner thighs before mixing with the water, you continued kissing and sucking along his neck resulting in goosebumps appearing along his skin, his thrusts slowing gradually, his grip on you loosened while you looked up at his dazed expression, "i'm so glad i married you."

"love me good, love me down, don't turn me down,"

after your mini marathon with sunghoon, he kept his words of letting you both take a rest before doing anything else for the rest of the day, it was way past the afternoon now, the evening approaching slowly as you and sunghoon were sitting on a small towel on the beach, the sunset's colours ahead of you mirrored on you both stunningly,

vibrant lights glowed from the numerous food stands placed around the side of the beach, carrying twinkling fairy lights from all colors while on the other side you could spot bodies swaying with other bodies as the loud speakers from the stage of a mini platform blared the song of the band performing atop of it,

your eyes occupied with gazing at all the scenes unfolding ahead of you, the chatter of the small crowds from the passersby accompanied by the singing of the dancing crowd, your ears also picked up the echoing laughter of children whilst they raced away from the waves, you felt at peace in such a happy place along with your lover who was gazing at your pleased expression with his heart soaring, every color from the fairylights and the fluorescent lights reflected from your twinkling eyes that he oh so deeply adored,

sunghoon shifted your attention back to him when he laid down gingerly and placed his head on your lap, chestnut strands contrasting your white dress that you wore as they spread out graciously, tempting you to run your fingers delicately throughout his hair which you began to do subconsciously, he hummed in satisfaction at the familiar feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp gently,

"feeling tired?" you asked him quietly as you stared at his gorgeous profile, the slope of his nose seeming to be carved by a deity, his moles decorating his pale skin elegantly, his usually furrowed eyebrows relaxed with his eyes closed, breathing in the salty air around him deeply, he looked serene as he was in a state so calm and tranquil he almost felt drowsy, "a bit," he replied,

truth is, he felt himself slipping further into his drowsiness, mere seconds away from completely disconnecting and falling into pure slumber as your fingers continued to work through his strands, the sounds of the crashing waves lulling him deeper,

he, however held himself back from falling asleep, especially not when you're in a good mood and you weren't even feeling sleepy like he was, he wasn't going to allow his plans to suddenly have the opposite effect on him with you awake and him asleep, fighting against his own body, he opened his eyes, his tired gaze meeting your expectant ones, "want me to get you a drink?" you questioned,

pointing into one of the stands that appeared to be serving cocktails to the group pf adults lining as other servers leaned down, smiling as they handed a bunch of kids what appeared to be colorful drinks from all types of fruits, sunghoon quickly nodded before he pushed his body off, "don't take too long," he grumbled whilst you began to walk away from him, you only chuckled at his grumpiness,

arriving before the welcoming server who happened to be a girl slightly younger than you, you hastily ordered a non-alcoholic beverage for sunghoon knowing that him getting drunk when he's sleepy was not the best idea, as the last time it happened it somehow ended up with him sleeping on the balcony without a blanket after he refused to listen to you in his intoxicated state, which resulted in him dealing with a cold for the rest of the week, and you for sure didn't want the trip to end so quickly,

the brunette— minjeong who told you her name sweetly during your small chat with her, "you're engaged?!" she questioned, bewilderment and shock evident on her face, "but you're still so young!" she continued as you laughed at her adorable expressions before you shrugged helplessly, you still had difficulty at fully digesting and processing the fact that you were engaged as well, everyday with sunghoon passing by as a mere blur yet it was something you grew accustomed to over time, "is that him?" minjeong asked you, looking behind you at an approaching figure of a young guy,

you turned around, thinking maybe you had taken too long hence why sunghoon could possibly be behind you right now, but instead you came face to face with a guy who appeared to be around your age, blonde hair sleeked back, slightly messy from what you guessed- him running his fingers through his strands as he was literally doing it in front of you,

he was a gorgeous man, curious dark brown eyes quickly travelled your figure before he revealed a breathtaking smile, he swiftly stood besides you, facing minjeong as he blurred out a random order, after minjeong's confused eyes flickered between the both of you, she walked towards the back, momentarily disappearing from your sight, the taller man next to you accepting this as an advantage turned his body to face you,

once he met your gaze, he smiled once again "you're a new face here," he spoke with a thick accent as he chuckled, eyes studying your face,

"you're for sure new around here," his voice low and smooth, awaiting for your answer while your heart drummed in your chest, you pushed the idea of sunghoon seeing you with a random guy, because besides avoiding getting him sick again on this trip, you truly didn't want to anger him- or worse, make him jealous on this trip,

opting to fix your hair with your engagement ring clad hand in hopes of him noticing and returning to wherever he came from, yet it seemed that it flew completely past by him as he continued, "you gonna respond to me, doll?" he leaned his body further towards you, provoking you even further whilst you backed away, "i'm here for a trip," you replied,

eyes ignoring his playful gaze, desperately searching for minjeong to arrive with sunghoon's drink so you can go back into his comforting embrace, "really? i can show you around then, doll" he smiled at you once again, eyes drinking you up, god you were gorgeous.

seeming to get no response again from you, your anxiousness growing worse with each second as did your discomfort, tapping your foot on the sand beneath you, "i'm jake by the way, what kind of trip are you on, doll?" he winked at you, his arm brushing against yours finally making you snap-

"a honeymoon trip."

a deep, familiar voice rasped out from behind you, sunghoon's arm snaking around your waist protectively and his figure towered behind you, almost in a scary manner, the comically funny sight of jake's face falling at sunghoon's appearance and words almost made you laugh, sunghoon's heavy breathing fanning at your neck forced goosebumps to arise on your body as his body almost shook with jealousy and at the sheer audacity of this random dude approaching you, was the diamond on your ring finger not big enough?

"you don't seem too happy about it, jake." sunghoon pressed on, now holding your hand and waving the diamond ring directly in front of his face, the irritation on jake's face becoming more visible with every passing second, before he sucked a deep breath in, "nah.. totally the opposite, congratulations." he replied through gritted teeth,

"so you were saying.. about showing her around?" sunghoon asked, eyebrow raised as his face remained stoic, his intimidating, glowering gaze raking over jake multiple times, while your heart only thumped at the increasing tension, part of you wishing minjeong to not come back and have the young girl witness whatever was going on between jake and sunghoon,

"you don't really find beautiful girls all alone around here.. they're usually with someone," jake began, his own challenging gaze holding sunghoon's angry one, "i knew she probably isn't from here, so that's why i approached her, she was standing all alone after all," jake kept bringing up the fact that you were alone, with each word coming out of his mouth sunghoon's grip tightened around you, you cursed at yourself for somehow managing to end up in this situation, sunghoon and jake felt like they were seconds away from jumping at each other as the latter kept spewing words to rile sunghoon further,

you held onto sunghoon's hand, his knuckles white and cold as they trembled beneath your hold, "you seem a bit experienced at approaching 'pretty girls' , jake." sunghoon replied, jake's eyes visibly darkening at his words, tilting his head yet before he could respond, a taller guy, clad in rings and chains, with jet black slightly wavy hair approached both of you,

his hands wrapped around jake's shoulders as he pulled him back, "woah! gentlemen, let's calm down a bit, yeah? there's still a lady here," the man with captivating round brown eyes smiled at you sweetly before his gaze switched between the two men who were breathing heavily, jake stumbled back into the guy's arms, huffing in frustration as his gaze softened in realisation once he saw your worried gaze, sunghoon's demeanour never wavered, his eyes still stuck on jake's face who seemed to be yet again distracted by you,

breathing out in relief, your shaky breaths finally caught the attention of sunghoon who stepped away from jake as he was getting scolded by the other guy, noticing the tight grip you had over his hand, sunghoon's racing heartbeat due to anger suddenly raced due to worry, guilt seeping through his veins when you closed your eyes in relief, face stricken with worry,

"baby.." he began, hands carefully reaching upwards to hold gently onto your face, before you held onto his wrists, jake and the other guy seemed a far distance away as the taller one seemed to be explaining something in an overly dramatic matter to another dark haired guy who looked at jake with a disapproving look, his frown only deepening when jake's only response was to roll his eyes and wave them off,

sunghoon's heart momentarily stopped when your weak hold wrapped around his wrist, "i'll see you at the house," you spoke, voice quiet though it rung in sunghoon's ears once you walked away from him, heading towards the house which was a few streets away, leaving him all alone in the beach,

he fucked up.

you fucked up.

if only you had been able to tell jake from the beginning that you were engaged, maybe that could've stopped him from continuing his questions which resulted in sunghoon almost getting into a fight if it wasn't for the bambi-eyed guy stepping in and dragging jake away, now both your and sunghoon's mood was ruined entirely, especially sunghoon's— which was way worse.

all scenarios and daydreams that you kept thinking of, how magical this trip would be and how special it'll be for only the two of you got ruined as you managed to fuck it up.

how were you going to make it up for sunghoon?

not only did you anger him, you left him alone at the beach as well, who knows maybe he got into a fight with jake after you left? or he sat down and sadly drank his drink minjeong handed him as he decided that giving you some alone time would be the best decision for now,

just how were you supposed to make it up for him?

slumping against the bed once you finally arrived into the house, the memories of the morning earlier overtaking your thoughts, what a turn of events.

and as you wallowed in worry and guilt, an idea popped up in your head so sensibly, praying to all deities and gods above that sunghoon would follow along to what you were thinking,

"got a bed with your name on it,"

and after what seemed to be an hour or maybe a half, maybe even two, sunghoon lost complete track of time as he sat down at the beach, his glass empty infront of him, memories from the previous hours kept repeating in his head, great, it was only the first day of the trip he insisted on and he managed to ruin it by almost breaking one of the main promises you begged him for, to never get into fights because of you, or possibly end up in a situation that hurt him because of you,

the promise went both ways, and you so politely kept yours throughout the four years, whilst he on the other hand always ended up in situations where he either broke it or almost broke it,

his anger was one of the main things he despised about himself, he hated how out of control his emotions could get sometimes to the point of worrying you like today, his possessiveness and jealousy were different factors that he also disliked, but he couldn't help it.

not when he got so miraculously lucky and was blessed with you as his lover, he loved and adored you so much, you were his entire world, his entire universe revolved around you, you were such a pure hearted and kind soul, your breathtaking beauty another bonus making you an angel in his eyes,

you attracting the hungry eyes of other men should be no surprise to sunghoon, turning heads in every room you walked was something he had to grow accustomed to, holding back his anger from punching any and every man that stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes,

yet when he saw jake so carelessly hitting on you, even though you did every possible movement to get your ring in his vision along with jake's ministrations continuing though you were clearly uncomfortable, anyone could tell from miles away that you didn't wish to continue whatever jake was insunating and it had sunghoon seeing red, like stated before, he can't help himself.

and now after a short conversation with the guy who dragged jake away, who he learned to be heeseung, seeming more mature than jake, he apologised for his friend's actions which he unexpectedly received an apology from sunghoon for,

"i acted on my anger as well, i'm sorry, i should've just told him we're engaged and ended it there," he spoke out, voice low in exhaustion and guilt, heeseung only smiled at his changed demeanour, witnessing a contrasting side of sunghoon that seemed like a complete different person than the man who he distanced jake from in fear that this might be the time that jake will end up hurt,

his fiery eyes simmered down to eyes filled with regret and shame at his childish behaviour, heeseung quickly reassured him that it was alright, understanding sunghoon's perspective entirely, "it's cool man, you only did what you had to do as a man, to protect your woman." heeseung smiled comfortingly at him, sunghoon smiled slightly at the way heeseung referred to you, it wasn't anything new to him, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat whenever people mentioned your name around him let alone called you 'his woman',

"which- congratulations on the engagement by the way," heeseung added, his twinkling round eyes gazing at sunghoon gently, before sunghoon smiled back at him in appreciation, "thank you."

"we could still.. show you around the island you know.. i'll keep jake in control, i promise," he spoke, awkwardly scratching at his neck, preparing his response for sunghoon's rejection, his words made sunghoon chuckle, nodding in agreement at heeseung, resulting in the older's eyes brightening, "you better get going now, i'm sure she's waiting for you," he spoke while wiggling his eyebrows in a kid like manner, his actions made sunghoon shake his head as he chuckled before he decided to finally head back home, apology memorised and prepared in his head throughout his time at the beach,

"see you tomorrow, sunghoon! goodnight!" heeseung shouted from the opposite direction of sunghoon as he waved his hand, sunghoon responded with a 'goodnight' before they both disappeared from each other's sights,

sunghoon's heart was thumping against his chest, thoughts of your reaction and responses clouded his anxious mind, he hoped and wished that you both will be able to talk this out and not fight, he could feel small sweat droplets roll below his neck, his head almost aching from his worry and fatigue, all he wanted to do was to hold you tight in his embrace and sleep comfortably, but it seemed like the universe had different plans,

you had completely different plans.

walking inside of your house to see all the lights turned off, no traces of you in the balcony nor the kitchen, sunghoon's stress worsened as he dragged his feet into the bedroom to welcome a sight that'll easily knock the breath out of his lungs,

maybe he was overthinking with your 'reactions and responses', especially since every scenario in his head consisted of negative emotions followed by negative outcomes, that completely contrasted the sight of you, clad in nothing but a light pink— strawberry coloured lace lingerie, laying on your side cozily on the bed, facing the forest, seemingly awaiting your lover's arrival,

sunghoon swallowed thickly, heart thundering once you turned around, dazed eyes meeting his gaze making his breath hitch, he took in your appearance for a second time,

"angel.." he breathed out heavily, he could feel the apparent tightening in his pants increasing, you blinked at him innocently, before you turned your whole body towards him, the sight of your breasts barely covered by the see-through lacey bra had him biting the inside of his cheek, he came here to apologise, so what the fuck was he going to do?

"join me?" you spoke out, drawing him out of his conflicted thoughts, once he registered your words he quickly wiped his sweaty palms into the fabric of his pants, walking towards you and noticing a small strawberry in your hand, the bowl of strawberries placed onto the bedside table also coming into view accompanied by a can of whipped cream,

he really did get ridiculously lucky with you.

his feet dragged him towards you in no time, body crawling over the bed to tower over yours, you looked at him through your lashes once he began to move, grabbing the strawberry from your hand before reaching out for the whipped cream, removing the cap to press on the nozzle and cover half of the strawberry with the icy frosting, he inched his hand towards your mouth, never breaking the eye contact when he fed you the strawberry,

his hand flicked into the corner, landing a bit of the frosting onto the side of your mouth, "sorry.. let me help you," he spoke with faux sympathy, his lust filled eyes barely visible with his hair strands falling graciously, obstructing his vision yet his eyes never left your mouth, your heart hammered in your ribcage once he licked his lips before he leaned in to lick the frosting from the corner of your mouth teasingly,

whilst he had you distracted, his hand held the can above your chest, tilting the top lower to drip the remaining bits of the cream onto your chest, and once you hissed at the cold droplets landing against your warm skin you heard him gasp in shock, "oops, i don't know how it's getting everywhere," he chuckled, not giving you the chance to respond he dipped lower to caress your skin with his wet tongue, humming in delight once the sweet frosting melted in his mouth, relishing in your low whimpers,

he shook the can in his hand whilst he busied his mouth with softly suckling on your supple skin, dragging the cream over your rib cage then going lower to your stomach, "sorry baby.. i just can't help it," he breathed out, licking up all the whipping cream from your rib only to land kisses along the expanse of your skin when it got clean, you whimpered once he dipped lower to lick your belly button, before he stopped at the hem of your panties, you sat up on your elbows to see sunghoon discarding the bottle onto the bed, attaching his teeth onto the hem as he held your gaze, hauling the thin fabric to your knees then yanked it off below your ankles,

you fell back against the bed, lightheaded when he lifted your thighs gently to wrap them around his shoulders, face descending lower, allowing him to inhale your sweet scent, he felt slightly dizzy at your closer contact that he had been impatiently waiting for,

"you're dripping baby.." his voice lowered, sunghoon ran the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds, eyes closing once your nectar bursted with flavour on his tongue along with your breathy moans falling onto his ears divinely,

one hand coming up to rub slow circles over your aching clit as he began to carefully push his tongue into your drenched entrance, you gasped out in surprise once his tongue began to lick all over your walls, waves of pleasure electrifying your spine as he continued to please you, his tongue and finger never faltering in movement while you gripped the sheet, the coil in your stomach constricting from your building up release, voice increasing in pitch when he began to fasten his actions, "hoon- i'm cumming!" you warned before your climax crashed onto you quicker than you could've processed,

sunghoon only moaned lowly against your cunt while you gushed around him, he licked every drop of your nectar whilst his finger never stalled, aiding you in riding out your high as you continued to moan beautifully for him, sunghoon slowly stopped and finished off with a small kiss onto your clit making you squirm before he crawled towards you, allowing you to take the heavenly sight of his face glistening, his gaze almost seeming intoxicated at your flavour, "so much sweeter than that stupid cream," he spoke out amidst him connecting his lips onto yours, groaning slightly at the taste of the sweet strawberry still on your tongue all the while you tasted yourself and the cream on his,

sunghoon's hands restlessly tugged at your lace bra, his mouth still latched onto yours as he impatiently ripped the fabric off easily, you mewled into his mouth once his hands began to fondle your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling at your hardened nipples while his mouth sucked onto your bottom lip,

sunghoon pulled away momentarily to discard his own clothes in a blur, each item landing in a different location in the room, he crawled back to you eagerly, your hands instantly lifting up to caress his smooth skin, running your fingers down his shoulders to his waist as you stared at him lovingly, his body warming yours, your tender gaze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, he quickly reconnected your mouths with his tongue running along yours, lifting your legs up carefully to rest on his shoulders then he moved to push your knees onto your chest,

his rock hard length fitted snugly against your folds, teasingly resting his heavy weight over your pulsing clit, sunghoon pulled away to reach into the bowl, pulling another strawberry, placing the fruit into his mouth with half of it protruding, he leaned towards you, enticing you to take a bite,

you pushed yourself forward, connecting your lips shortly until you took a bite of the fruit, sweet flavour exploding to your mouth whilst sunghoon stared at you, gaze half open and glimmering as his length twitched against you, he hastily dipped to capture your lips again, in the meantime his hand went lower, positioning his tip along your entrance before he slowly pushed himself deeper, inch by inch stretching you open on his thick length, deliciously filling you up all the while licking needily into your mouth,

you moaned into his mouth once he bottomed out, tip pressed snugly against your cervix whilst your walls were accommodating to the burning stretch, sunghoon mouth worked sloppily against yours, swallowing all your sounds when he began to slightly move, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth yet it bothered neither of you, his hands held the back of your knees roughly, keeping you in place as he began to pound into you,

his mouth kissed along your jaw, allowing your moans and whimpers to reverberate throughout the room, you helplessly clawed at his biceps, digging your nails into his skin resulting in him hissing in pleasure, sunghoon's hips pistoned into yours, his cock running along and hitting all of your sweet spots, his hands moved towards your breast, caressing the skin before he latched his mouth onto your nipple,

the feeling of his teeth slightly biting your skin had your eyes rolling back, your hands pulling at the sheets once squelching, wet sounds echoed throughout the room followed by both your and sunghoon's moans, "i'm gonna fill you up so good, angel," he groaned against your skin, "you'll feel my cum throughout the entire week, he continued,

nuzzling his head into your neck, he pressed his mouth onto your ear, hips never faltering against you, "gonna let me breed this pretty cunt, yeah?" he grunted, breath hot on your ear, his body jerking against yours, small sweat droplets rolling off from him to land against you, the smell of sex and your mixed arousal filling the room, "fuck- yes! please, baby," you whimpered in his ear, abdomen tightening for a second time causing your walls to clamp around him, he groaned in pleasure as he sloppily thrusted into your heat, "please what, angel?"

"please fill me up," you whispered weakly, throat hoarse and your voice almost disappearing, his mind was spinning once he felt his approaching release as his cock was practically moulding your walls to his shape, his length was continuously jerking inside of you at his orgasm, your wetness mixed with his precum now dripping below your thighs to stain the mattress, "gonna let me fuck my baby into you, hm?" he teased with his cock drilling inside of you, "god you'd look so gorgeous carrying my baby," he continued babbling whilst you nodded dumbly at his words, too distracted by your release, sunghoon's hands fondled your breasts, "gonna look so pretty with these filled with your sweet milk," his hands squeezed your tits at his 'these' word, finger pinching at your nipple before he sucked it into his mouth,

his own hips began to uncontrollably convulse while your legs trembled on his shoulders, your eyes rolling back for the nth time once your orgasm washed over you, jaw going slack all the while sunghoon's gaze never left your face, his mouth still latched onto your nipple as he whimpered at the tight feeling of your walls clamping on his length, he lifted his face to pepper small kisses all along your jaw and cheeks, your breath uneven as sunghoon helped you to ride out your orgasm, eyes closed tightly in pure bliss, "such a good girl, creaming all over my cock" he praised, softly brushing loose strands away from your face before he pecked your lips, "my perfect good girl,"

in the blink of an eye he switched your positions, holding you on your side while he laid behind you, his sweaty chest pressing against your back as he held your leg open before plunging his cock back into you, both of you groaning at the feeling of your wetness gushing out more when he thrusts back in, his other hand swiftly landed against your clit to rub slow circles on your puffy nub whilst his length thrusted into your warmth in deep and steady strokes,

his hot breath fanning your shoulders, kissing the skin of your neck every now and then while his eyebrows furrowed, his mind in a frenzy as his climax felt mere seconds away, "come on angel, cream all over my cock again. come on, baby" sunghoon whined from behind you, each word going straight to your needy cunt making you clench around him, you felt like you were on cloud nine with his constant overstimulation, his hand never slowed against your clit while his cock ached inside of you,

"h-hoon i c-can't-" you stuttered out, he moaned at the feeling of you tightening at his words, your cunt sucking him in entirely, "yes baby, you can, come on. i need to feel it, baby" he blabbered, you couldn't tell if you were being overstimulated or if sunghoon dragged another orgasm out of you as you cried, your body shaking entirely once you began squirting all over his length, sunghoon's breath hitched, a chain of fuckfuckfuck- spilling from his mouth as his climax washed over him, pressing his hips against yours to push his tip to your cervix, allowing his warm load to shoot into your womb while your walls milked him fully, both of you panting in overstimulation and fatigue as he filled you up,

sunghoon carefully placed your sore leg down, length still buried deep in you to keep his load in place, you were exhausted, already slipping off to a deep slumber whilst you began to feel sunghoon press kisses along your shoulder,

"so.. am i forgiven?" he asked quietly,

"yeah- yeah i think so."

then you heard him whisper a sweet 'i love you.' before completely surrendering to sleep,

BONUS:

and here you were on your fifth day of the trip, indulging in a conversation with heeseung as he explained all the other different games to you, all with captivating colorful lights that easily distracted you,

on the other side of the arcade you could spot minjeong and jay sitting down at a bench together, each holding a cup that contained god knows what as they were both already tired with their social batteries empty,

while your dear fiance- there really was no need to look for him once you heard him yelling at jake, a few feet away from you while jake shouted a 'cheater!' to his face,

"how the fuck can i cheat when i'm literally playing a claw machine?!" sunghoon yelled back in bewilderment,

"seriously how did you marry him?" heeseung questioned as he covered his ears for the nth time due to their shouting, you only laughed at his frustrated expression since you, yourself didn't know how you managed to marry sunghoon.

A. NOTE (pt2): this took like more than 4 days i'm not gonna post till next year atp. also this is proof read but it's also 7k so pls ignore any sentences that don’t make sense <3

[neopuppy]

Our Sick Story, Thus Far (M)

Teddy Bear—> (yes you have to read this first)

pairing. Jeno x female reader x Haechan x ?

genre. college AU, pwp, dark fic, angst, M/F

wc. 29k

warning. profanity, bullying, forced relationship, cheating, dr*g use mentioned, blackmailing, coercion, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc, is anyone in this story actually a good person??(the answer: no), stockholm vibes. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Our Sick Story(Thus Far)//Atreyu

a/n. it’s been a long time coming and I hope the wait was worth it for this story that I had no business writing to begin with😅

dedicated to the messages I received letting me know Teddy Bear made them wanna throw up. you are going to love this one! and @notncdeeh for consistently bothering me to finish writing this💚

smut warnings. dubcon/noncon elements(DO NOT read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), Jeno refers to y/n as ‘Teddy’ often, no teddy plush shall be spared, dacryphyilia, humiliation, degradation/praise, oral, anal, rimming, finger sucking, sub/dom dynamics, switching, hair pulling, slapping, protected and unprotected sex, breeding, impreg kink/forced pregnancy, cock warming, hidden camera use, choking, mind break, surprise character smut(👀).

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Art class had taught you more than expected when you chose the extra curriculum for ‘stress relief’ as the school’s counselor put it, emphasizing how fast you will burn out if you don’t allow yourself one light work subject.

‘Paint me something pretty today.’ Jeno smirked near the entrance, stepping backward to keep his gaze on yours until he could no longer see you from the hallway.

Blue, sky blue. 

Jeno’s favorite color is sky blue, which he mentioned one day when grabbing you after class. The only one of your courses he’d been unable to transfer into because it’d interfere with his degree.

‘It’s a shame we can’t be together all day.’ Jeno traced a faded spot along the column of your throat while you studied color theory. A mixture of blue and yellow bruises speckled with red bits of gnawed skin. 

Art class has taught you many things, one being- you aren’t very artistic, and that much like the blue sky had turned darker earlier these days, so had your mind. 

Jeno rained trickles of blues into your favorite colors, he muddied a bright day, stained pools of misery around your world.

Sky blue is an ugly color, you think, because even as he smiled with an arm slung over your shoulders walking through the first drops of November rain; Jeno robbed hues of yellow and gold from the sun. He gathered red from the last days of summer heat and stormed through your life on a cloud tainting everything a miserable shade of black.

Art class had really become your everyday sanctuary, a time away from him. Time to pretend that Jeno had never invaded your days.

A time to daydream from aw you hid behind a canvas, imagine ‘what if’, and admire a student from across too focused on his work to spare you a glance.

and when Jeno would arrive ready to prance you through the halls as his play thing, his little toy, you couldn’t help but wonder..

In another life you could have fallen for Jeno. You could have loved him, developed a healthy relationship, formed fond memories to reflect upon together in the future.

But in this life, you hate him.

Hate may be a strong word, but as you sit across from the bane of your existence, you know one thing is certain.

You hate Jeno Lee.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Perhaps it is to your detriment that Jeno has made you feel nothing, unless numbness can be classified as an emotion.

By the round of omnipresent gasps and whispers that reach your ears each time you enter a room with him, it’s hard to not fixate on the way his presence alone stirs the first rumble of what can only be classified as a concrete shattering earthquake. Maybe that’s the problem, because even when Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist from behind, leading you through the cafeteria to sit at a table alone with eyes of vultures ready to pick your flesh apart inch by inch; you cannot find it in yourself to care. Not anymore, not even close, not even a little.

“I like it when you wear your hair down.” Jeno whispers, fixing your loose locks to one side. “It’s really cute how you think this is enough to cover yourself and hide from me.”

Bony fingers trace patterns of sadness atop the marks he’s drawn along your throat. “Pretty.”

Cute. Pretty. Meaningless compliments, because how could they hold any meaning pouring from a soul filled with nothing but darkness.

Even as you sit pressed to his side in the back of the library, you feel sick, scribbling a mental note to wear your hair up more often. His compliments replay like a broken record, scratching the way up your thigh to a cut between the juncture of your knee. Your teeth clench as you claw your jagged nails up your inner thigh, attempting to make the mental gash real just to feel something. Dig the wound deeper, much like Jeno’s sweet words strike similar to the tip of a blunt tip knife; aimed recklessly at your soul slicing through inch by inch. Cutting you open until your blood has been drained of all life.

His eyebrows furrow, gaze following along to your hand and slapping your wrist away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Great!” Jeno pipes up, grabbing your bag. “So do I.”

“Jeno..”

Standing up, he smiles expectantly, lip quirked to one side daring you to speak out loud against him. It’s useless, you know better by now.

“Can we make it fast this time? The bell will ring soon..” you mumble quietly, walking alongside him toward the exit.

“Worried you’ll miss your precious little painting class?” Jeno nudges you toward the mens bathroom, grabbing a hold around your elbow as he steps in first. “EMPTY OUT!” He roars, followed by an urgent shuffle and toilet flushing as one of the new Freshmen you recognize scuttles out with his head ducked, toilet paper attached to the back of his sneaker. 

Jeno laughs breathily, entertained by the younger's fearful exit. The fear that he can instill in anyone easily with the snap of his fingers, or a mere glance. Turning toward you, he smiles, nodding to one of the stalls. “All yours.”

“That wasn’t necessary..” you say quietly, moving past him to find the cleanest stall available, nose scrunched in disgust as you settle on one and turn to shut the door. “Shit.” You startle jumping back, clutching at your chest.

Jeno latches onto the stalls frame, peering down at you. “No need to close the door Teddy, it’s only me.”

“Jeno, please..”

“You know I hate it when you do that.” Jeno swings his body back and forth, head shaking side to side slowly. “You said you need to use the bathroom?”

Locking your eyes to the floor, you’re at least thankful for choosing a skirt to wear today, lifting, sliding your underwear to your knees as you squat down and settle with your skirt fanned out over your thighs.

Jeno turns to laugh, rolling his eyes. “The way you still act so shy, like you’re ashamed..” 

As if he hasn’t defiled you and had his way with you in every which way he prefers. “Cute.” Jeno’s gaze traces up from your sneakers to where your knees clench together, running his tongue under the inside of his lip. “Done?”

Scooting closer, his arms drop down to his sides, shoulders appearing more broad from where he looms above you. “And look at that, with time to spare still.” 

Jeno grips around your upper arm, hoisting you up to your feet, panicked as you’d just begun to reach for the roll of toilet paper. “What’re yo—stop!”

Ignoring you, he flips you around to press your back against the stall, licking across his lips akin to a rabid animal. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll clean you up.”

He drops to his knees, bunching your skirt up to your waist as he perches one of your legs upon his shoulder, face burying between your thighs. 

“Jeno, don’t! That’s too—“

The drag of his tongue has you choking, squirming back to get away as heat fills your cheeks, completely mortified by the sweep of his tongue running up and down. “N-no!”

Jeno groans, face shaking side to side as he makes sure to cover each inch of the skin between your thighs, tongue greedily running rampant between your folds. “That’s so disgusting.” You cry, pushing at his head, nails dug into his scalp

Jeno rushes back with a hiss, eyes snapping open wildly as he apprehends your wrists and clutches around your forearms roughly, returning the feeling with his short filed nails. “Funny how you only shut up at the worst times.” Overpowered, he pulls on your arms to launch himself back up, twisting them around your back painfully to press you to the stall chest first. “So difficult.”

Returning to his knees, he flips your skirt back up, keeping your wrists tethered with one hand. “Thought you wanted to get to class on time?” Jeno’s nose drags between your bottom, sucking in a deep inhale. “Fuck.”

He groans, biting down on the cleft of your ass hard enough to leave marks behind. A new one to join the rest that he makes sure to add daily. “Nothing about this is disgusting.” Cupping one of your buttcheeks, he bounces the meaty flesh against his face, eyes rolling up as his nose dips against your tight ring of muscle. 

“Not there!” You wheeze, scrabbling to get away by uselessly scratching down the wall. 

“You’ll get used to it.” He rumbles against your core, lips circling your entrance with a lewd slurp; not missing a drop of your arousal beginning to drip out. “Ridiculous how good you taste.” 

Clapping your ass against his cheek without pause, Jeno’s neck bends back more, jaw opening wide to swipe his tongue from your clit to your hole, growling between short staggered breaths. Each drag of his nose slowly circling your rim humiliates you worse, biting down to keep in your complaints the more he goes for it. Splaying out his palm, he spreads your ass completely open, unveiling the taut ring of muscle clenching helplessly.

Jeno kisses at the backs of his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath as his index finger extends to tap and tease your rim, cheek dimpling to one side the more you fail to pull away. “You’ll let me fuck you here next, yeah?” He laughs, pushing your trapped fist into your lower back to form a deep arch. “Fill up all your holes, is that what you want?”

“N-no..” You grimace, face pressed to the chill bathroom stall. “Please, hurry, please.”

His tongue clicks obnoxiously, blowing on your rim before setting down a searing kiss, tongue smoothing around in a circle. “Why should I hurry? I don’t even get to fuck you.” He sneers, eyeing the time on his wrist. 

“Later,” you pipe up fast, rutting back against his face to convince him. “After school, we can.. do that..” 

His eyebrows shoot high, peering up in surprise. “Oh yeah? I’ll hold you to that, Teddy.” He bites down on your buttcheek again for good measure, nipping the skin roughly. “Now be good, and hold yourself open if you want to make it on time.” His grip on your wrist loosens, shaking off the sting left behind only for a second before he slaps your palms down on your butt and adjusts your position to expose both your holes. “That’s it.”

Thick arms circle around your thighs, biceps flexing to keep a snug grip on you as his hot tongue returns to your center and glides between your folds, inching lower until his lips can wrap around your clit.

“Uhhnnghhh..” you jolt, firmly tucking in your mouth to suppress a moan from soaring out.

Jeno’s hands swipe up the front of your thighs, gliding his mouth and nose from your wet hole to your clit with teasing firm flicks of his tongue; three of his digits find your bundle of nerves right as his mouth latches back around your entrance. His tongue buries deep, lifting your toes to curl up off the floor, knocking your forehead against the wall as you fight to keep in a desperate cry. 

He’s relentless, tongue expertly waving against your insides, the muscle strong and thick. “Ugh!” A whine breaks through your sealed lips, smacking the stall as he taps your clit repeatedly, urging you to break down and squeeze your release around his tongue.

Jeno draws out, mouth a mess of shiny wet, panting heavily. “Come on, give me what I want.” He slaps your clit roughly, spitting at your entrance before plunging in, nosing at your rim harshly as he struggles to breathe out of his nostrils. He grumbles between choked breaths, tongue working in and out of your hole with precise thrusts. Each rub to you rim, stroke against your clit, and incessant roll of his tongue inside of you shoots straight through your legs, ready to collapse if not for his arms keeping you held in place.

“Je—I—“ your eyes roll back, grateful that he can’t see the wash of pleasure pouring down your face. Turned putty under his ministrations as you clamp around his tongue shamefully, scratching down the stall in a weak attempt to get away.

Jeno drags out only to lick up the trickle that managed to escape his mouth, lapping your inner thighs clean with a deep moan. Each swipe of his tongue raises your humiliation up higher, hissing and jerking away when he reaches the cut along your knee.

“What is this?” He grips a hold around your calve, forcing you to balance on one leg to get an up close look and inspect how deep the wound goes. “When did you do this?”

“Don’t know, think when I ran down the stairs to meet you this morning the stair bannister skimmed my leg..”

He grunts displeased, setting your foot down to stand and kick open the door. “Come here.”

Jeno motions to the sinks, dropping both of your backpacks down next to you on the counter. “Does it hurt?”

He examines your knee closer, propping your foot to rest along the sink ledge, tongue poked between his teeth. 

“Why do you care?” You ask with a scowl, reassigning your attention to the bathroom floor when Jeno slowly blinks at you and reaches to open his backpack.

“Is that a serious question?”

“Whatever.”

He nods, huffing an amused sound under his breath as he grabs a pack of sanitation wipes. “This may sting but I’d rather you not get some infection, especially after scratching at it.”

He proceeds to lightly dab the wound, drawing a hiss between your teeth despite how gentle he’s trying to be. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you bite, leg jerking in his hold. “I won’t pick at it anymore.”

“Sure.” Pink lips purse together, delicately blowing over the area. “I don’t have much, but I’ll cover it up with some gauze when we get home later.”

Home.

Jeno speaks as if you live together, and you may as well at this point. Ripping a bandage open with his teeth, his eyes thin to place the non-sticky white where your flesh appears most harmed. “You’re mine now, I expect you to be more careful than this with your body.”

Squeezing up your calve, his thin digits dig through the meat of your muscle, trapping your bouncing gaze. “Maybe it’s best you move out of that shit hole you live in. That areas not well fit for a young girl to live alone there.”

“I can’t afford to move..”

Jeno’s lips gingerly land atop the bandaid, puckering to press a kiss. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You’re being weird.” You whisper, turning away from the sight of his pouty mouth continuing to layer kisses over your wound as if to heal you faster.

“It’s okay.” He draws your foot off the counter, taking a hold of your thighs to make space for himself to stand closer between. “It’s okay to accept it.”

Jeno’s eyes appear black as night, empty of any genuine thought or emotion, but even then your chest aches at the flicker of hope when he looks at you. It’s different, nothing you’ve experienced from anyone else. He looks at you like you’re..

“Special.” He whispers, pinching your chin as he leans in closer and his palm smooths over the covered wound. “Does it hurt?”

“..Would you hurt me?” Your lips move faster than you mind can register, asking yourself the question over and over again without realizing you’ve said it outloud. 

Jeno blinks slowly, taking in your nervous expression. Opening up his palm, he moves to cup your chin and keep your face visible as you try to hide away, slowly inching forward to connect your mouth to his.

The bell rings right before your lips can meet, dislodging the breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding. It’s easy to break from your thoughts and push yourself off from the sink, scoot around him fast with the excuse of being late. “My scholarship.” You constantly remind him, receiving nothing more than a roll of his eyes in return.

“Yeah yeah,” he trails after you out of the bathroom, voice low and threatening. “I’m holding you to what you said for later, don’t forget.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･

Jeno met Haechan the first day of Freshman year of high school.

Excited to show off a new pair of shoes with wheels attached on the soles, he rolled through the hallways to his first class. That’s when he noticed an on-slaught of senior girls running by in their short cheerleading uniforms. Giggling and waving as they jogged by him cackling from behind their hands- ‘hey freshie’.

All too distracted with a goofy smile on his face, he missed the shorter boy wandering ahead of him lost. An unfortunate collision caused their foreheads to bump hard enough for a bruise to show up on both of them by lunch. 

Haechan hissed, crashing flat on his bottom painfully; Jeno quickly apologized and helped him up. Little did he know they’d become great friends from that day forward.

Jeno’s not jealous of Haechan, not necessarily. He admires how giving his friend can be, really. If Jeno ever forgets to grab his packed lunch, Haechan will always offer to share. He’s always sure to invite Jeno over to play games whenever his dad purchases the latest gaming console. He’d even go as far as lending Jeno the shirt off his back if needed.

‘What are friends for if not to have you back in any situation?’ That’s what Haechan would say whenever Jeno felt rendered speechless by his friend's generosity. 

The thing is, Jeno had never had a friend like Haechan. He questions if he can even call his relationships with others friendships anymore.

Unlike Haechan, Jeno had trained himself to not share. Friends had only become burdensome with time. Always asking him to play with his toys, mooching from his delicious snacks, making a big deal over the new pair of sneakers he wore that day.

They liked him because he had nice things, but they didn’t actually care about him. They cared about materialistic bullshit, about his good looks, the designer name brand clothing he’d wear.

Haechan was different from all of them. One day he opened up and shared that he’d felt homesick. Vulnerable at the time after a long tiresome day of introducing himself to groups of snobby fake stuck up people. One even pointed out a manga on his desk saying- ‘I’ve only seen weird loners read that shit’.

‘I had a friend.. back home.’ Haechan had sighed despairingly, head dropped lazily on his bed; drained by the realization that this is his new life. ‘Well.. I wanted her to be more than a friend.’

Jeno watched Haechan over the next few years. His friend changed, reformed his persona to fit in with the standard; he adapted quickly to this new lifestyle. Days of asking Jeno if he’d like some of his lunch dwindled down to nothing; seemingly only irritated that Jeno could be so forgetful of he ever asked for his leftovers.

Things had only become more tense with time. Haechan had grown competitive with everyone. He craved to be the ‘it’ boy around school. It never phased Jeno, not really, he learned to accept the change in his friend. 

Then came the day Haechan decided that Jeno was his competition.

“Jeno, don’t you think this Cartier bracelet would look so cute on my wrist?” Sinclair waved her phone in his face. Wrist waggling out toward him, suggesting with her flirty batting eyelashes that he buy it for her; she had been on his ass for months dropping hints. “Perhaps you could finally ask me out with a gesture such as this?”

“He can’t afford that.” Haechan rolls his eyes letting out a breathy scoff by her side. 

“Of course he can, nothing a swipe of your dad’s Amex can’t cover. He won’t even notice it on the monthly statement.” Sinclair goes on.

“His dad’s broke.” Haechan corrects her abruptly, glancing quickly toward Jeno’s burning glare. “I mean, uh... don’t repeat that.” 

Haechan snatches her phone, waving off that he’d buy it for her when he takes her out come Friday. 

All it took was some stupid girl Jeno could give a fuck about for Haechan to let him down for the last time. It bothered him for months, imagining the various ways he could split his ‘friends’ skull open. 

“I won’t mention it again dude. It was a mistake, alright?” Haechan whispers standing near his locker after Jeno had resorted to the silent treatment for the rest of the week. “Listen, I’m sure she’s already forgotten. I’ll just take her to some overpriced restaurant and tell her I made that up because I was high or whatever.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.” 

“Promises are for children Jeno, I forgot alright? I’m allowed to make a mistake.” Haechan showed no remorse. Proving his promises to be empty, backed by no integrity, lacking worth and value. Jeno knew deep down Haechan only continued to befriend him out of guilt, he knew their relationship boiled down to nothing for the other at the end of the day.

He knew he had to do something about it, but he couldn't. He had to wait for the perfect timing. He had to leave Haechan defenseless. He needed to ensure no way for his father to find out of his plan. Leave Haechan with no way to snitch and rat him out, a threat strong enough to hold over his friend's head.

The day you came along everything fell into place. Jeno knew as he watched Haechan’s head lay on your shoulder from behind a bookshelf in the library, you clearly meant something to him. None of it made sense at first. Why would Haechan care about you of all people?

“Remember that girl you mentioned from back home?” Jeno decides to casually bring up the story he’d hardly cared about or paid attention to while gaming. His friend's throat cleared on the opposite end from behind his computer screen. 

“Yeah, what about her?” Haechan says, continuing to mumble curses as he goes on playing.

“Whatever happened to her? Did you two keep in touch at all?” Jeno asks, cursing at the screen to seem casually interested.

“Uhhh,” Haechan swallows, shrugging. “Honestly, don’t know.”

Liar.

Jeno’s teeth grit, holding back a laugh. “That’s too bad, you two were really close, I remember how tore up you were back then when you had first moved. Took you a while to get over it.”

“Man, that was so long ago.” Haechan waves off. “I was a kid.”

Raising a finger to silence their conversation, Haechan pauses the game, picking up his phone after the first ring. “Hey baby, nah I’m just with Jeno, yeah the usual.” Haechan proceeded to ignore him, the old friend he once cherished long gone now.

Just like you.

There are times you want to ask ‘Why me? Why me of all people? Out of all the girls withering away for a mere blink from Jeno in their directions, what the fuck made me matter.’

The unplanned vow of silence you’ve committed to halts those times your tongue itches to lash at him, and you listen, you listen well, very well. It’s to your detriment really, because Jeno adores that you listen, he loves the implication of the power he constricts you with behind your binded lips.

It’s also to his detriment that— for lack of better words, Jeno isn’t the brightest. Maybe he doesn’t want to come off too intelligent, you contemplate as he gushes on about his lost friendship; his favorite topic other than you really.

Haechan.

Jeno’s obsessed with Haechan, at least he’s obsessed with the fact that Haechan won. Between his foul rehashing of times his alleged best friend made him feel futile, it’s easy to decipher why it had to be you.

Not to make Haechan jealous, no. Haechan could give a fuck about you.

Jeno sees the precious memories of his former friend that he lost in you. The glint in his iris sparkles, satisfied by your raptured gaze as he wraps up his story.

“That’s why you’re so perfect.” He says proudly, capturing his bottom lip between index finger and thumb, massaging it while a hum rises up his throat. “Had to be you. You’re the answer I’ve been waiting for.”

The answer. What the fuck does that even mean, you squint, blinking it away fast. Jeno beams, pulling you closer to him with his arm snaking around your waist. “I like when you do that, makes me wonder what’s going on in that brain of yours. Something devious I’m sure.”

Carrying your bag, he hooks an arm over your shoulder, drawing you close as you venture to your next class together. “Hey.”

Maneuvering you around to face him, he stops at the classroom door, grabbing the attention of numerous students as he blocks the entrance making an awkward scene for you. “What are yo—“

“I love you.” Jeno announces loud and clear, receiving a round of gasps and an uproar of whispers. He smiles, cheeks lined with wrinkles, eyebrows raised as he waits.

“Wha—…” breaking off, you peer around quickly, sweat pouring down your back out of fear. Anger and an oncoming storm raging through your gut. “What.”

He lets out a chuckle, sighing as he hugs your back to his chest and proceeds to make way to your seats, further boiling the heat building up your chest. “My sweet sweet Teddy.”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You hiss, throwing your shoulder into his chest to continue to your seat under the eyes of the entirety of your class. Rounds of whispers sing around you, the usual confusion you’ve become accustomed to laced between every shared word. 

He sits by your side, arm back around you in no time with a large smile, nodding and peering around the room to affirm that he meant what he just said. 

Every cell in your body wants to explode, throw Jeno down onto the ground and crush his face under your foot. The squeeze around your shoulder curls you in further, wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Cold?” He asks, knowing that you aren’t, it’s a mere excuse to wrap himself around you more. His nose nuzzles against your hair, taking a deep inhale with a suffocating possessive hug wrapped tightly you. “Can’t have my Teddy get sick.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

“Teddy.”

It’s shrill, nausea inducing, the way Jeno’s grown fond of this nickname for you.

The way he smiles and peers at you with some sick adoration as he calls you his teddy bear again.

While you feel trapped and disgusted, everyone else seems confused, peeved, and to be gossiping about the two of you.

Haechan’s girlfriend sports an ugly sneer when you walk by wrapped under one of Jeno’s arms; snapping the pencil in her hand into a broken half as he sets a kiss on your forehead, smirking at the round of gasps your schoolmates let out throughout the hallway.

“They’re all so jealous of you.” 

They are jealous of you, watchful eyes speak volumes following your conjoined figures heading toward the parking lot. 

Jeno has successfully transferred into nearly all of your classes, he picks you up and drops you off. Blows up your phone with texts and calls the second you’re apart. He doesn’t ask for updates or proof of what you’re doing, he demands it. Threats fall empty now, you don’t have much to say, he does the talking. 

You listen.

“Our assignments are due next week.” He mutters, pulling away from the school in an opposite direction from where you live.

Our. Mine. His. 

Nothing is yours anymore, Jeno made sure of that.

“I have to be home soon..” 

“Oh yeah?” He lets out a breathy laugh, drumming the steering wheel while sat at a red light. “Last I checked you only have to be with me, your parents only call to check in on you once a week. They don’t have to know your location at all times teddy.”

Oh but he has to know. He knows everything about you, every excuse and lie you can concoct shot down by weeks of evidence collected while studying you from afar. Far enough for you to never catch on, too clueless because of your own insecurities to ever fathom that someone like Jeno could be obsessed with you.

“Besides, today is a special day.” He exclaims, driving into a gated community full of large three story houses resembling suburban mansions.

“How could you forget?” Jeno parks, moving to unbuckle your seatbelt. He sighs, pinching your chin to look at him. “It’s our one month.”

He pouts, bottom lip jutted out while blinking dumb and slow. 

Sometimes you think that Jeno’s cute, and that makes you hate yourself more than anything. All you can do is avert your gaze, pretend he has no affect on you, keep up an act that he’s emptied you of any possible emotion; because he wants to destroy you. He wants you to feel helpless, wants you to rely on him because you have nothing else.

He’s pushing you inside of the house, digging into your knees from behind with his, built arms tightly wrapped around your waist. Suffocating you, that’s what he does, coating you in his scent, sucking out your energy throughout the duration of each day with the metaphoric needles he prickles you with. Every word that drips from his tongue feels like acid poured onto your flesh, burning through the layers to melt you deep inside until the pain goes numb.

His families house is enormous, spread out and fully furnished. Luxurious like some 5 star hotel, which Jeno hasn’t let you forget is only thanks to Haechan’s father for saving their ass. 

‘My dad can’t afford this place anymore. The bank owns our house by now, but he’ll do anything to keep up appearances.’

That’s what he mentioned during lunch one day, ranting about how he can’t stand the way everyone ‘keeps up appearances’ around here; snickering disdainfully toward the table his former best friend sat at.

‘Especially him. Fake asshole.’

Jeno stops you in front of his bedroom door standing by itself in the hallway he’s led you through. 

A dark empty hallway, away from all of the other bedrooms. Ominous and cold.

“You know the way, open the door teddy.” 

Of course you know, it may as well be your bedroom at this point.  

“I have a surprise for you.”

Jeno’s palms cover your eyes when you reach for the door handle, stiffening your spine as his chest knocks against your back to make you step further inside.

Inside of his bedroom it’s dimly lit, a chilled temperature; the air cools down your throat with every breath you take. 

“Do you like it?” He’s smiling against the shell of your ear, whispering softly. Revealing with the drop of his hands a giant plushie sat on his bed against the corner; a human size teddy bear.

He knows you don’t like it, even the question sounds like a dare; a dare for you to say that you don’t like it, that you don’t like any of this.

You especially don’t like Jeno, or the way his palms brush down your arms, shifting to your waist to gather your top up. Bunching at your stomach as he begins to remove it from your body.

“There's more, Teddy.”

Of course there’s more.

The tips of his fingers slowly trail between your breasts, throwing your top off with ease because you don’t struggle. You let him take off your clothes whenever he wants. 

Most times he doesn’t touch you much, but he counts, he memorizes. He traces over indentations from teeth buried into your skin and faded bruises left behind after fucking you roughly. He makes sure there are no others, only Jeno can mark you, only Jeno can see you like this.

He takes time discarding your bottoms, unbuttoning slowly, pushing the material down your hips even slower. Squatting down to his knees to pepper faint kisses on your hips and thighs as more your flesh comes to light; finishing off with a peck on your forehead when he stands and motions toward the plushie.

“Don’t you want the rest of your gift?”

You nod, just barely, taking a step toward the bed. Met with a hand clasped on your shoulder and a ‘nu-uh-uh Teddy’.

Jeno smirks, pushing on your shoulder. “On your knees.”

On your knees like the pet you’ve become. Crawling with your palms flattened onto the bed. Heating up knowing he’s behind you watching your underwear ride up your ass. It’s less humiliating now, he’s made you do worse.

A small black box sits between the teddy bear's legs, adorned with a glittery red bow.

“Open it.”

Hesitantly you pull apart the lid, pursing your mouth shut at the piece of jewelry inside.

A choker, a solid black thin choker you will no doubt have to wear around your neck everyday now. A choker with a teddy bear charm punctured in place through a small metal ring. 

“Ah, I can tell you love it already.” He chuckles, ripping the box from your hold. Shoving your hair away to lean close and lock the clasp around the back of your neck. Grazing the edge of his nose on your jaw and cheek as he does, a silent reminder that you are his, and he will do whatever he pleases with you.

Jeno has a sardonic smirk stretching his lips as he takes you in, fingering the charm dangling just beneath your throat.

“My teddy bear.” 

Tips of cold fingers trace your neck, following the pulse passing through your veins, it’s all just to push your buttons. Jeno wants a reaction, he craves your pitiful stares and miserable moans, he needs your pain to feel something.

You won’t give him that satisfaction, not anymore. 

He sighs, pushing your shoulder to nudge you in the direction of the large plush. “Don’t think I’m letting you off easily for forgetting our special day either.”

God. How could he possibly care enough about you to count down the days you’ve been ‘together’ or whatever he considers this. “Now, show me how much you love your gift.” He says with a wink, tapping your ass and nudging his chin to the teddy bear laid between his pillows.

This has to be some sick kink of his, and it’s impossible to forget what he made you do in that abandoned classroom a month ago..

“Just like last time.” He hums, moving onto the bed with his knees. “I know you remember.”

It’s not necessarily watching you grind against a toy that ripples blood through his veins faster, filling up his cock until it weighs heavy and hot between his thighs; but the saddened broken image before him, with your gaze lowered in shame as you mount the plush and grit your teeth. It’s the shattered feeble look of defeat that fills his chest with warmth more than anything. “That’s it.”

Reaching to smooth up your spine, he pushes at the backs of your shoulders, shifting closer to sit behind you on his knees. “Wanna see you ride it up close.”

He works to guide your hips down onto the bears stomach, pushing hard until your core meets the soft material and you let out a shameful whimper. Biting down on his lip as he slaps your thigh, squeezing up your butt to your waist with instruction to move.

It’s vile, rolling your hips down at his command, growing short of breath as the friction builds up between your legs and his strong hands manipulate your movements. Tears spring past the corners of your eyes the faster he makes you move up and down, grinding your core along the life-size plushie full of humiliation and fear.

“Your ass looks so fucking good.” He groans deeply behind you, rubbing down your back to cup your buttcheeks in a squeeze. Gripping and kneading, parting you open to watch your rim flutter against your panties with each pathetic hump against the teddy bear. “I know I couldn’t be your first time teddy..”

He leans in, chin resting on your shoulder to halt your movements as he dips in past the cleft of your ass to find your hole. “But I’ll be the first to fuck your ass.”

The gasp you try to keep mute still reaches his ears, softly chuckling against you as he adjusts and slides your underwear to one side. “Consider it your gift to me for forgetting our special day.”

Some special fucking day.. 

“You’re so wet already, doubt I’ll even have to prep you.” Jeno whispers, nudging the tip of his thumb against your rim. “Looks really tight, what do you think? Should I be nice and stretch you open first?”

“Please..p-please, I’ve never..”

“Shh shh, don’t worry, I believe you.” He chuckles softly, pressing the blunt tip of his length against your entrance. “With how tight that pussy is, I know you’ve never let anyone inside your ass. It’ll be a special memory only for us..”

Is it special? The tingle building in your stomach seems to agree, relaxing against the plushy to arch your butt out more. It has to be a Pavlovian response by now, conditioned to seek this pleasure Jeno provides you. Even if you hate accepting it. It’s not your fault that your body's natural response is to crave his touch, and spread your legs wider for it.

“I’ll be nice.” There’s amusement in the way he says it, like he doesn’t believe himself either. Slapping the mass of his cock down between the dip in your ass, cursing through clenched teeth. “You may not show it, but your cunt never lies.”

The bulbous tip swipes down, pressing against your clit, pushing your knees to slide open an inch more. It’s all taunting and teasing, running the fat cockhead between your chubbed folds, dipping it into your entrance just to watch you squirm and rut back for more. “Greedy pussy, acting like I don’t fuck you enough.”

He mumbles, smacking the underside of his length between your thighs. The wet clap stinging under the weight of his heavy size beating down on your swollen core. “J-Jeno..”

“Something wrong teddy?” He tuts, hips rolling up, gripping your buttcheeks to sandwich around his length. “You sound.. impatient.”

He gulps, trapping his cock under his thumbs to fuck between your buttcheeks faster. Wet tip prodding out, spilling precum down making the glide even easier. Each thrust passing over your pussy hole and rim makes your thighs tremble, burying your face deeper into the teddy bears neck. “Mmmph..”

“I know it hurts you Teddy..” Jeno’s words rasp against the back of your neck. Bending forward to paint your warm flesh with a coat of moisture. Sweat, raw sex and saliva combine, sticking your skin and his mouth together like hot glue. “Why do you have to be so good at taking it though? Huh?” 

Breath fans your upper back, the drag of his tongue races across your shoulders to bite down a groan on one. Notable effort to make you squirm and scream becomes more prevalent with each smack of his hips against your ass, grunting deeper the more he exerts. “It’s because you like me, right?” He asks between the sound of a struggled laugh, gasping with another slide of his thick length passing between your thighs. “You’re drenching me sweetheart, making a fucking mess of my sheets. You know what I’m gonna have to do later?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, panting heavily as his tongue trails to lick the column of your throat. The glide of his cock between your thighs is disgustingly loud, squishing and splashing in volumized echoes around his bedroom. “Your lack of response is becoming predictable, you know.”

His lower half snaps, protruding hip bones beat against your backside. A  gut crunching sensation curls up your chest, unable to deny the slick gush continuously leaking out of you and coating your ass and thighs the more frantic his motions become. “Can’t wash these sheets again, need to savor it. Remind you of how much you enjoyed it. How you finally gave in and accepted this fate.”

“N-no..”

“What was that?” Jeno asks breathlessly, gripping the base of his girth to position the tip against your rim. “You want more, don’t you?”

He presses in, watching his wet slit disappear past your asshole. “Ahh, no!! S-stop!”

He snickers, angling the tip to stretch your tight ring of muscle. “Relax. It’s going to hurt a lot if you don’t relax.”

“Please..go slow..” you sigh, biting on the plushy when he nudges more. 

“Be calm teddy. You want this?” He drags the sharp edges of his well-filed nails down your ass painfully, surely leaving marks behind. “Want my face shoved in your ass, huh? That’s why you’re whining so much.”

Jeno always has a way of speaking to you during these intimate moments. So cold and uncaring. The icy tone breaking your skin out in goosebumps. Even with your mouth sucking around the teddy bears arm, you whimper, the urge to cry spiking as he removes your panties and lands a sharp strike down on your ass.

“Bent over all pretty for me teddy, you arch that butt out like such a good little slut.” His palm smooths down lower, patting your wet folds to make you listen to how wet you are from this alone. “Who knows, after this I might not even bother with your pussy anymore. Have my own brand new unused hole to fuck now.”

He teases, swiping your clit side to side, dragging the tips of your fingers between your cunt to prod at your entrance. “You’re so wet, I love how fucking wet you get.”

A shaky breath leaves your lips as he twists two fingers inside and buries in knuckle deep, pressing his thumb to your asshole. “Such a perfect slut for me, ready to be my anal whore.” Jeno pulls out and lands a slap down on your rim, hard enough for the sound to clap out around his bedroom. Your hips drop from the sudden impact, biting down a scream into the plushy. “Enough of that, I wanna hear you.”

Wrapping around your waist, he manhandles you easily onto the center of his bed. Laid down on your back softly for him to get a good look at you, for you to finally see him. He’s big, broad, looming over you in the dim light illuminating from the corner of his room. The strokes of yellow paint across his chest and muscle, the darkness pronouncing deep indentations of muscle lining his abdomen and arms. Jeno falls forward, catching himself above you with his biceps bracketing your head, smiling as he leans in to kiss the fresh tears lining your cheeks. 

“As much as I wanna bend you over and fuck your ass like there’s no tomorrow.. “ he slows to kiss up from your chin to where droplets have pooled under the hollows of your eyes. Sucking up and kissing the wetness there, enjoying it more than you’d be able to comprehend. “Nothings better than watching your face when I fuck every inch of my cock inside..”

The pure joy glaring back at you from his dark glass irises rains more tears down your face, sniffling and shaking as he licks them clean and squishes your lips out. “Relax sweetheart, it’ll feel good for both of us. Promise.”

Thin digits run down from your jawline, tracing past your neck and over the mounds of your breasts. Jeno adjusts your position to haul one of your thighs up, using his shoulder to keep your knee pressed against the bed. He makes a show of bringing his hand up to his mouth, sucking around three fingers, dragging his sloppy wet tongue between each with laser focused eyes locked on yours. 

“You’re so good for me teddy, gonna let me use that pretty ass..” the way he holds you open exposes both of your holes, hovering past your swollen wet cunt to press two fingers against the clench of your asshole. “Just one baby..”

He presses the tip of one slicked up digit in, breaching the tight little muscle until you whine desperately. “Feels so warm..” Jeno’s eyes flutter, thick black eyelashes still visible in the low light. He sounds throaty, hungry, exasperated and needy. Quietly muttering to himself about how good your tight hole feels as he begins to pull his finger in and out slowly. “Bet your pussy was even tighter than this when you were still a virgin.” 

His voice comes out a lot more harsh, gravelly, guiding another finger in with the next stroke. They scissor through and flutter against your inner walls, tugging lightly at your rim as he dips out to the just the tips. “You’re opening up great for me sweetheart. Do you see how you always listen so good?”

Jeno sits on his knees like a predator catching his prey after a long meticulous hunt. Prodding another tip past your rim alongside the two, the muscles lining his arm rippling, exerting more strength to not push them in all at once. “Tell me teddy, are you desperate enough for me to even let me claim your ass?”

Your throat dries, pursing your lips together to quell the moan that nearly spills out. It’s a new type of full, sneaking peeks at the veins running down his inner forearm leading to the fingers working you open. A wash of shame and heat streaks down your limbs, shivering when Jeno draws his digits free, dangling them above your ass. 

“I know you are.” He lands another slap between your thighs, making your extended leg jerk. Fixing his angle to line the tip of his cock with your rim, the large blunt tip presses down, having to tuck your lips in to not scream. “..but I want to hear you say it.”

The head of his cock nudges in, pulling a gasp from your chest. Jeno bends closer to grab your jaw, shake your head around until you look at him. “Tell me to fuck your ass.”

“I’m—“ your voice sounds unrecognizable, squeaking out brokenly, overpowering the one you’re used to. “I—‘wan—“

Bending in closer, the pull up your hamstring burns, further pushing your leg against the bed. He pushes in another inch, the bulbous tip nearly fully entering, skin stretched taut around him. “You can do it, I know you can do it. Tell me sweetheart.”

“F-fuck—“ you pause, the last bits of your mind slipping away to another dimension. “Fuck m-my ass, please—fuck my a-ass.”

A sick pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips, bumping the tip of his nose to yours. Jeno doesn’t fuck the rest of his length in immediately the way you expect, slowly pushing each inch to savor the snap around his shaft. 

It’s when his hips bump against the backs of your thighs that you finally take in a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Panting out heavily and wide eyed when you can feel the entirety of his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

It’s when Jeno begins to pull out that you bite down to keep in a scream, lifting up on his forearms caged around your head to watch his length draw free. It feels like he’s splitting you in two and he hasn’t even really gotten into it yet. It goes on like that for a minute or two, his head hung, black hair in your face, awestruck by your rim sucking around his dick each time he pulls out to the tip. He gains speed slowly, snapping his hips forward for the first time. Jolting your spine to arch up and finally release a tiny scream you can’t hold in any longer.

“Pussys making such a mess teddy..” Jeno rasps, throwing his head back, pink lips hung open. “Fuck, you’re dripping down to my balls. Love getting fucked up the ass.”

Every thought racing through your mind dissolves, blank and empty as you crane your neck to the side to get a look at what he’s going on about. Embarrassment flushes down your face, unconsciously clamping down on his length plunging in faster. The powerful snap of his hips rocking you deep into his bed, surrounded by Jeno Jeno Jeno. His smell, his touch, his mouth and his meaty girth stretching you open. It’s become something you expect, something you’d feel weird without now, Jeno. 

It burns when he buries in deep, grabbing onto the back of your knee for better control. The stretch feels more and more overwhelming with each pass of his cock manipulating your tight ring of muscle further. Digging his knees steadily into the bed, he picks up the pace and kicks his hips forward to fuck in to the hilt.

“Love fucking your ass. Love fucking you.” Jeno’s eyes clench shut, blinking quickly to open them and shove his forehead against yours. “Love you.”

God it makes your stomach churn, half pulled into a pleasure that feels too good to be true; sickened by how good it feels to be impaled by his fat cock. Half suffocated by the rushing swarm of emotions lassoing your brain, tightening until you feel ready to burst. And Jeno again with the fucking L word, dropping it like nothing, making sure you feel each syllable through his girth splitting you open. 

The push and pull against your clenching rim feels painful, feels good, makes your head spin. He eats it up, licking across your lips, trapping the bottom between his teeth to suck on. Nose dragging down your cheek, lapping the tears, sweat and spit painting your face. It should feel disgusting, you should feel repulsed, but this behaviors become so standard now. Jeno’s like a puppy sometimes, burying his face in your neck, searching for a place to lay new kisses.

Even during these times when he’s on top of you, pushing his cock in deep enough to bruise your cervix, your fingers itch to touch him. He usually does it for you, grabs your wrists and forces your hands to drag down his face, kissing the inside of your palms and wrists.

He seems more intent on kissing you right now, letting ragged breaths fans across your lips between light pecks. “Can you cum like this?” He asks, murmuring against your mouth. 

“I—I d-don’t know..” you really don’t. It’s your first time and the pleasures surging all over in different directions, racing between pain and confusion back to arousal and need. 

“You can.” Jeno whispers, lowering his face to your neck, gaze focused on your connected lower halves. “You’re so wet.”

Fingers trail down your stomach, softly skimming over your clit before easing between your folds. He sinks two inside, thumb rubbing your clit in a simultaneous motion, filling you from both ends. “Ugh! Yeah just like that sweetheart..”

Jeno snaps forward, trying to match the rhythm of his hips to his fingers. He bites down on your jugular, panting heavily against your throat. The burn of the stretch crashes against waves of pleasure, twitching up with each rough rub at your clit.

“I’m—I’m c-cumm—“ the sob you break off into has him moving faster akin to a feral animal. The weight of his bulky frame lands down on you hard enough to make his bed shake, headboard slam against the wall. Each brush of his thumb at your clit feels more sensitive than the last, sending you over the edge, mind blank beyond the grip your ass has around his cock. “Ahh!”

The wetness spilling out past his fingers slides all the way down to your lower back, further solidifying your humiliation. Because he’s right, you are wet just from this, loving your ass stuffed full. Drowning in the sensation of his length ramming in and out.

“Squeeze that fuckhole around me so good teddy, cum cum—“ Jeno chants manically, throwing his hips down rough and fast. Pressing down your clit harshly between viscous flicks, rolling the stiff nub until your toes curl. 

You spill over quickly, writhing under his weight as the pressure of wetness pushes his fingers out of your cunt. The orgasm rolls through you like no other, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. Thinking you’ve passed off into the afterlife if not for the way he draws back and pounds into your ass.

“You like it?!” Jeno’s expression morphs into one of anger, black eyebrows furrowed together. He grabs your face again, chasing after his release still slamming his cock in deep. “You like getting fucked up the ass?”

The questions pointed, furious. The face of frustration and anger only there to mask how close he is to falling apart, reaching a new high as he charges to the peak. 

“L-love it, yes..” you barely whisper, tear filled eyes blinking the moisture away to watch his features contort and crumble. His pace turns erratic, breath quickening fast enough for his chest to beat up and down. Letting out a deep growl, Jeno comes to a still, mouth hung open letting a chopped up groan roll off his tongue. His cock thrums wildly against your inner walls, flooding your ass with warm white cum you’ve had poured inside of your cunt for weeks.

The little sounds dripping from his lips sounds anguished, whimpering when he thrusts in one more time to ensure his cums evenly painted your insides. “Love you so much..” 

His eyes fall shut, nose dug into your cheek catching his breath. The tips of your fingers tingle again, itching and burning to comb through his soft dark locks, to smooth the sweaty strands off his forehead. It feels like the right thing to do.. maybe with anyone else.

But you want it to feel right with Jeno..

He grumbles, littering kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. “Gonna pull out, okay?”

You don’t respond, not even a nod, only hissing through your teeth as you gape and the now cooled down semen trickles out of your ass disgustingly, really cementing what you’ve just done. What you’ve let him do to you again.

Jeno hums softly, laying by your side without a worry, seeming pleased and full of life judging by the small smile on his face. “Happy anniversary teddy.” He reaches for your hand, scrabbling to entwine your fingers when you try to pull away.

“What’re you thinking about?” He murmurs, shifting closer to your side as you curl into yourself to get further away. “I don’t even have to ask. I’m sure I can throw out a wild guess..”

He lets out a long sigh, huffing a quiet laugh. “You’re not as good at masking your emotions as you may think.. You have to erase those old memories you have of Haechan. He’s not a good guy.” Jeno remarks, nudging his elbow against your side. “He’s a bad person.” 

“You are no better..” You accuse, a bit surprised, whispering with your mouth pressed against his bed. The last person you’re thinking about right now is Haechan(..maybe). Jeno’s smile only grows wider, tickled to hear you talking back finally.

“There’s a difference between me and him.” He says surely, slinging an arm around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he presses in close to whisper. “He changed to please everyone. I just don’t care anymore.”

“You’re both terrible people..”

Jeno sighs, smile still evident in his tone, leaning closer kissing your ear. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that.” You mutter, digging your elbow back to push space between you.

“Why would I do that?” Smoothing your arm down, he kisses the end of your jaw, licking your earlobe. “I love you, I know you won’t say it back, but that won’t stop me from letting you know that I love you.” He cozies up against you, yawning. “Get some rest, we have that test to pass tomorrow.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

Jeno has that look on his face again, the one that shifts from raunchy to feral hunger, the one that has him reaching to grab you in less than a second.

“I’m still sore..”

“I barely even touched your pussy.” He says cocking an eyebrow, phone dinging in his pocket over and over again. “Was I too mean teddy?” His palm swipes down the curve of your ass, cupping your buttcheek.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

He groans, smacking your butt lightly before reaching to free his phone.

“Shit, my dad’s blowing up my phone.” He huffs annoyed, swiping through paragraphs of text messages. Most yelling at him in all caps lock for not answering his phone. “He needs me to pick up some files from his home office, says it’s urgent. Something about an accident..”

Frustrated, he hoists his bag and adjusts yours on his other arm, nodding toward the end of the hall. “Come on.”

“Jeno, the test—I can’t!”

He sets you with a look that nearly makes you crumble, ready to succumb and follow his orders. “Please, you know my grades..”

Dragging the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he sighs deep and loud, pinching the skin between his eyebrows together. “Fine.”

What?

He looks irritated, upper lip twitching stretched over his teeth trying to control his anger. “But I’ll try to come back later to pick you up. If you take longer than a minute to reply to me, I swear to fucking God—“

“I won’t!” You almost add a ‘thank you’, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself. “I’ll keep my phone within view shot in case of anything..”

Jeno rubs at his temples, shoulders visibly trembling. “Fuck. Whatever. Fine.” 

He stops to take in your elated expression, cupping your cheeks, thumbs caressing your soft skin. “Don’t forget, I love you.”

You won’t say it back, he knows you won’t, but he waits for a minute, a flicker of hope passing behind his gaze. “Good luck on your test, I know you don’t need it teddy.”

He leans in and kisses you, full control on his end. Making a real show of it by shoving his tongue down your throat right in the middle of the hallway where everyone watches and whispers nasty remarks. He wants them to see, he wants certain people to see especially. Public display of affection had never been something you enjoyed, or even experienced before Jeno, but he made it something you had to learn to endure. 

“Be good.” He says quietly, warningly, slipping your bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

You nearly risk being late to class just to watch him leave, having to run to make it on time. The first time you’ve been alone in days, weeks even. Sitting down at your desk with a sense of relief, a crippling weight lifted off your spine. This test would be a breeze without him there to breath down your neck.

It is really crazy how you turn to the empty seat next to you numerous times though, fully expecting to see him there waiting for the next answer. Finishing off your exam without handing it over to Jeno to ensure he copied all of your answers felt odd, peering at your phone over and over again expecting notifications only to have none. 

So. This is life without him. Normal? Not anxiety inducing? Nothing to fear or worry about..

You should know better though, exiting your class blindsided by Haechan leaping in front of you, hooking his arm around yours. “You. In here. NOW.”

“Haechan?! What the hell!” You cough, waving at dust that lifts from the janitor closet floor. Cleaning supplies and clutter surround you, setting in how claustrophobic you feel when he slams the door shut and locks it.

“We need to talk. Right now.”

“About what?!” Pushing him off, you stumble back and glare. Watching his face fall at the sight of your anger.

“About this.” He says, reaching for the charm adorning your neck, flicking the teddy bear. “What’s this bullshit all about? What are you dating Jeno now?? What the fuck is wrong with the two of you.”

“The two of us?! There’s nothing wrong with me?! It’s your fault any of this is even happening to me!” You screech, slapping his hand away. 

“My fault?! You low lives are threatening to ruin my future and it’s somehow MY fault??” Haechan bellows, grabbing your upper arms. 

“Low lives?” 

He scoffs, shaking you with his firm hold. “Don’t change the subject! What the fuck if your problem, huh? Are you making him do this? You two need money that badly?”

Haechan could have just asked about your relationship with Jeno if he really cared. He would have noticed how different you’ve been looking and acting if he really ever cared about you.

“Everything’s about money to you..” you mutter, gaze hanging low. 

“To me?! I’m the one being threatened here!” He says in disbelief, burning holes into your face with a crazed look. “I don’t need any money from you or him.”

No. You don’t need anything, do you? Everything’s about you. You you you you…

Jeno was right all along.

“You seriously think I want your fucking money Haechan?!?” You shout, breaking out of his hold to shove him back. “What about me, asshole?!? Do you even give a shit about me! No, you don’t! Because I embarrass you that much, huh?”

“What are you even going on about.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your wrists before you can pummel him with your fists, teeth gritted. “Of course I give a shit about you, why do you think I’m here?! He’s always hovering around you! It’s impossible to get near you anymore.”

“You’re only here because you think I’m weak.” 

“Weak?” Haechan repeats, tossing your arms down. “He’s really brainwashed you, yeah? Made you believe I’m the bad guy here? I’m not the one money hungry enough to destroy years of friendship over some petty jealousy!”

“He hasn’t brainwashed me.” You snap back, nearly adding a lie to make yourself feel better. He doesn’t talk about Haechan that much, and he’s not that jealous..

“Oh yeah? Than what the fuck is this?” His fingers aim for your choker again, sliding the tips under to press along your pulse. “Wearing a collar like a good little bitch?”

“It’s a gift.”

Haechan’s mouth parts in surprise, cocking an eyebrow. “You really like that psychopath, I can’t believe this.”

“Fuck you.” You bite back, wrapping around his wrists. “You have no right to assume anything about me.”

“And me? What about me, huh?” He says soft and low, leaning in closer. “I thought you liked me.”

“You did?” You ask, a bit surprised. You hadn’t made it that obvious, right?

“So, you don’t?” Haechan’s gaze flickers to yours, peering between each of your eyes confused. “Ever since we were kids I thought..”

“Do you like me? Did you ever?”

“Always, I always have.” He says surely, tugging out of your grip. “Not that it matters.”

“W-Why?” You stutter, feeling heat rush to your face. “Because y-you won’t do anything about it? Because I’m nothing but a low life, right?!”

Haechan steps closer, locking you in place against him with his arms tightening around your waist. “You’re not, okay? I’m just mad about Jeno..”

You hate getting angry, because you hate to show how weak you really are, cursing at the first batch of tears that pour from your eyes. You punch at his chest, letting out a tired sob. Tired because of this, everything, tired of holding onto something you never had. “It’s all your fault. He wouldn’t even care about me if it wasn’t for you.”

“What’s my fault?! That your boyfriend’s a certified nut job??”

“This isn’t about him! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Oh yeah?” Haechan squeezes you in, inching his face closer to yours. “So, you won’t care if I do this.”

The same lips you dreamt about for years come closer, a breath away from finding yours. He pauses to watch your reaction, eyelashes fluttering up and down expecting you to do something to get away. Because Jeno’s girlfriend wouldn’t let another guy kiss her, especially not his new enemy.

It’s nothing like your dreams when he finally goes for it, he’s not soft and nice, he doesn’t move against your mouth like he belongs there. The kiss is rough, fast, sloppy, needy and aggressive. He sees his chance and takes it, sliding his tongue in past your lips as you gasp, lowering his hands to your ass with a fierce squeeze. His dreams had been to strip your innocence, watch your fall apart and scream while he fucked you deep. Nothing like the fairytale stories you’d imagined. Each pass of his tongue against yours indicates his desire, forcing your arms out of his hold to reach for his hair, fisting it and pulling as hard as you can.

“Ahhh! Ahh! Stop!” He whines, lips already swollen. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You sneer, coiling tendrils between your digits, pulling until his neck arches back and a high-pitched squeak breaks free from his mouth.

“I knew it.” He grits, eyes thinning into a glare. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“Is that what this is about?! You just need to have everything Jeno has?!”

“You are the one falling for that freak.” Haechan spits, slapping your ass. “Everyone knows Jeno fucks like a fucking crazed beast, you’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“I’m not fucking him.” Technicalities..

“Yeah? And why should I believe you?” He plays with the hem of your skirt, tickling at the skin there. “You say that you like me and yet here you are holding back. I think you’re a liar, trying to protect your crazy boyfriend..”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” 

“Yeah?” Haechan steps back, leaning against a shelf full of cleaning products. Reaching below his waist to unbuckle his belt. A bulge sits beneath his zipper, slowly lowering it with his eyes on yours. “Get on your knees.”

“What!?”

He snickers, shoving his boxers and jeans down under his balls. “I said get on your knees.”

He has the audacity to wear a cocky grin, tilting his head back onto the shelf as he begins to gently stroke his cock to full mass. You have to look, have to lick your lips at the sight of his length beginning to chub up in his hold. It’s not enough to subside your anger, marching forward to slam his shoulders back against the shelf. “Who do you think you are?!”

“A guy you like.” He says, voice low, staring at your lips. “A guy who likes you.”

This certainly isn’t normal by any means, you know that, but that doesn’t stop the extra skip in your heartbeat. Doesn’t stop your eyes from trailing down Haechan’s face to where he sucks on his bottom lip, letting it go and bounce shiny with spit. “Now.” Reaching for your mouth, he slides a thumb across your lower lip, pushing down on the fatty center. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

There’s a cruel edge to his tone, watching you crumble and slip down onto the floor, eye-level to his length. “Don’t act surprised. This is what you want.”

You don’t know what to say, watching your knees settle on the ground before looking up. He strokes at his size lazily, the tip right between your eyes. Nowhere near as big as Jeno, that’s for sure..

“You’ve always had such a pretty mouth, always used it to talk so much shit.” He smirks confidently, bringing the tip closer to your pouty lips. “What are you waiting for?”

Haechan even smells rich from down here, clean, trimmed pubes, a slight musk wafting off his sack. Jeno’s a little different, he’s always hairless, always smells clean in a soft and inviting way. You think he keeps himself extra tidy to entice you more, but maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is just Haechan..

“D-do you have protection?”

“Huh??” He says, surprised, shrugging and reaching for his wallet. “Yeah, whatever.”

He sounds a little ticked off, flicking the condom at your pressed together thighs. Not putting up an argument either way. It’s been awhile since you’ve had to use one of these, and as you unwrap the package you start to wonder why.. 

Clearing your throat, you nervously reach to grip around the middle of his length. It’s not as heavy in your hold, not as thick, a lot smoother with less prominent veins. The condom rolls down fine, aided by a layer of lube that will surely taste disgusting sliding down your tongue. He’s hissing above you, eyebrows scrunched together focused on your hands and robotic expression, wondering if you’re lying about everything..

“Come on.” Haechan says desperately, reaching to thumb your lip again, a lot messier and more eager. “You want my cock, don’t you?”

Leaning in, you test the feel of it, sliding the tip across your upper lip. Slowly craning your neck up to watch his face fall apart. “Say it. Wanna hear you say it.”

He grips your hair, fingers tingling through your scalp, forcing your neck back further. Plump lips hang open above you, breathily moaning, stuck on his cock dragging your lower lip open. “Say you want my cock like the pathetic fucking slut you are.”

That flicks your eyes open fully, rising from your knees quickly with a tight grasp around his size. “What did you just say to me?!”

Haechan’s jaw hangs limp in shock, letting out a shattered moan when you pull at his length roughly. “Turn the fuck around.”

He listens without even trying to resist, grabbing onto one of the shelfs with your fist still circled around him. “S-sorry.. I thought..”

“Shut the fuck up Haechan.” Grabbing his wrists, you loop them both back and trap them in place against his lower back. Reaching lower with your free hand to smooth over his ass.

“Now, repeat that? What did you just say to me?”

He shakes, turning his face to the side to watch you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing nothing! I take it back!”

“Are you sorry?” You whisper, nipping at his jaw. Fingers skimming between the crevice between his ass.

The vibrations soaring off his body intensify, trembling harder, breathing through his nose gruffly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He chants, breaking off into a whimper.

He doesn’t know what you wish he was sorry for. Delivering a slap to his ass and watching it bounce back against the collision, you hum lowly.

“Come here.” He’s easy to whip around, shivering from head to toe excitedly. Ankles weak to walk on as if he could cum already, making it easy to push him down onto the floor. 

“Fuck, you’re crazy..” he whimpers, laying back and kicking his legs to get his pants off. He looks more pathetic than the first time you ever met him, sobbing under you, crying for you to let him go. 

“It’s your fault.” You mutter, pushing your skirt and underwear off to mount his hips without restraint. “Wish I’d never met you.” You hiss, reaching for his chin to dig your fingers into his cheeks. He blinks up at your blearily, the bright light above you staining his face in a white translucent shade, eyes lost and glossy. He’s pretty, so so so pretty, makes your chest burn and ache. He’s always been pretty, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks slowly with each blink, plump lips shoved out for you to capture. 

“You’re so sexy.” He mutters, struggling under your rough grip. “If I’d known—“

“If you had known what?” You sneer, slapping his cheek hard enough for his head to snap to the side, eyes bewildered and surprised. 

“Fuck you’re..” he spits, bending forward at his neck to watch your core sit down on his length. “Ahh.. shit I’m still!—” He splutters, head dropping back, hips rutting up as you start to slide against his cock. 

It’s easy to take control and feel powerful on top of him like this, shifting back to grab his knees and push them up. “Stay still.” You demand, using force to push the pits of his knees down and hold yourself up. Haechan whimpers from the change in position, feeling small and confined under your figure sitting above him. 

“Fuck I’m—not gonna last long. You’re too much.” He’s such a whiny sniveling mess, drooling down his chin, cock twitching against your cunt.

“You like that?” Hoisting yourself up against his legs, you lift enough to line the tip of his cock up to your entrance, hips trembling as you begin to lower and breach your hole. 

“Ahhh! Fuck!” Haechan screams pretty, high-pitched, unashamed. His head tosses back fully exposing his Adam’s apple, dainty collarbones. He’s nothing now, nothing but a groveling whore begging to be fucked.

“Say it.” You say full of threat, struggling to keep yourself held up, clawing your nails into the sides of his knees. “Beg me to fuck you.”

The softest cracked moan spills from his red juicy mouth, face dropped to the side looking at you with half-lidded drunk eyes. “Please please, please fuck me.”

He’s nothing, and he could easily be yours.

It’s so easy to mount him, to bury the rest of his length inside of you. It’s less of a struggle to take him than you’re used to, filling you to the brim with a wet splash against his pelvis where you land. He whines and moans through it, making you work to ride his cock faster. 

Haechan looks brainless, gorgeous, stupid as fuck with his tongue hung out lavving at the drool pouring from the corners of his lips. Sweaty hands push yours off his knees, holding himself open wider to free your hands. The burn running up your thighs calms as you grab onto his chest and ball his shirt between your fists, short of breath the faster you work to fall into a rhythm. 

“Faster, come on, fuck me faster!” He grunts under you, voice loud and ragged over the thunderous clap of your ass crashing down on him. 

“Shut the fuck up whore.” You bite, reaching to wrap around his neck for better leverage. Pretty brown eyes go wide, gasping for breath as you tighten around his throat until his head shakes and he sounds empty of air. His cock thrums wildly, urging you to slam down harder, rock your hips faster. The veins along his forehead expand the more he struggles to breathe, mouth hung wide open like nothing but a dumb slut. “Only sluts get off f-from being choked.”

He nods weakly, coughing and groaning, sweaty fingers slipping on and off his legs. “Yes yes, ahhh g-gonna cum.”

“If you cum before me I’ll bite your dick off.” You spit out angrily, freeing his neck to clasp his chin and bury your fingers inside of his slutty mouth. “You useless slut.”

Haechan’s eyes roll back, tongue lapping between your digits, balls colliding with your ass with each heavy thrust. “Ah—ahh!” He gurgles and spits, making a mess around your fingers. “Pl-please!”

The hold on his knees slips free, arms flopping down to his sides, legs landing on the ground hard with rapid tremors shooting through. “Shit!” You grunt, stilling as his length pulses and warmth fills the condom, sliding off before any of it can pour out inside of you. “What did I fucking say?!”

Anger and arousal combined feel similar to a slasher film. Murderous and frightening, craving death around the corner as the music changes to warn you as the next kill approaches. Haechan lays under you out of breath, face covered in sweat and saliva, cock pathetically twitching against his stomach. “Selfish.”

Snapping the condom band into place, you settle back down on his length, making him shout out and shake his head. “No no! That hurts!”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Bending in, you reach for his hair, fisting handfuls to pull on and control the speed of your hips. So useless, so stupid and useless, you deserve better than this. Better than someone who can’t even control his own needs to make sure you both finish and reach pleasure. 

Tears brim his eyes as you rock down and roll your cunt against his half-hard soaked cock. The friction of creamy wet rubber rutting against his length more painful than enjoyable at this point, springing droplets down his cheeks. 

“You’re so weak.” He nods, has the nerve to agree with you. Biting down on his plush bottom lip to compress a sob, glossy eyes blinking tears out faster. 

The broken sight of him sends shivers up your spine, jabbing the tip of his cock against your clit in rapid motion until your hole convulses and draws out a much deserved orgasm. 

“Holy shit..” he wheezes out breathlessly, the back of his head hitting the floor painfully as you abruptly release him and move to the side.

Satisfaction courses through your veins, along with something else weighing heavy on your mind..

That was.. interesting. Is that the word you’re looking for? Interesting.

Patting the floor for your skirt, you immediately grab your phone. Jeno hasn’t texted yet. Even more interesting, something really must be wrong with his dad.. you should send him a message first. He might need you right now. Why the hell do you care about what he needs..

“Hey, let’s keep this between us.” Haechan disrupts your inner monologue, patting your shoulder. “Don’t need Jeno seriously spreading those photos around and whatever else he’s blackmailing me with.”

“Does your dad know about your drug use?” You ask, sliding your arm away from his touch.

He frowns, nose wrinkling annoyed. “Why the fuck would he know about that?!”

Because you’re a spoiled brat. Surprised that daddy even cares about his privileged son ruining his future, blowing his father’s hard earned money on more white shit to snort up his nose.

You shrug, buttoning up your shirt. “I guess you have a lot of secrets.” 

Like me. 

You are one of Haechan’s secrets if you think about it.. his secrets stemming from shame it seems. Because he’s ashamed of you, of the part of his life you remind him of.

“Whatever.” He scoffs, standing uncomfortably, nervously scratching his head.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure, picking up your belongings and grabbing the door handle. “There’s nothing your secrets can provide for me. See you later?”

His frown deepens, chewing on his bottom lip and shrugging. “Whatever.”

“Goodbye Haechan.”

You leave first, emotions unsettled and scattered as you walk down the hall to your locker. It’s nearing the end of the day, thankful that Haechan only made you miss gym class. Jeno always takes longer to fuck you, he likes to make sure you always get off, sometimes he doesn’t even finish..

Jeno. Shit.

‘Waiting for you by the north gate entrance.’

Shit shit shit. What the fuck. Jeno said he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pick you up today, or that he’d try to, whatever. Not even a heads up?! Nothing to warn you??

Fuck, what if you smell like Haechan?! Knowing Jeno he’d be able to tell. There’s no way you can come up with something quick enough to get him off your ass, another text alerts you demanding for you to hurry up.

‘If you’re not out here in the next 50 seconds I’m coming inside.’

Fuck. You really fucked up this time, fear picks up your pace to jog through the hallway corridor faster, dodging your classmates bodies left and right until you near the exit short of breath and look out to see your… Jeno, stepping out from the driver’s seat.

“There you are.” He smiles, a big smile, the type that reaches his eyes. The one that’s for show, for others to coo and aww at. The one that garners close-to-ear whispers behind hands and eyes bouncing back and forth from you to Jeno.

‘Why her?’

Everyone asks, everyone wants to know. You never asked before, until one day the voices broke you down and found yourself constantly asking- ‘why me?’

You’d never ask Jeno, you never ask him anything.. but right now, as you nervously force your lips into a measly smile, the cramp forming in your stomach nearly makes you trip down the grass hill leading to where his cars parked awaiting you with the passenger door open.

“That’s funny.” Jeno says under his breath, leaning in to wrap around your waist. “You never smile at me.” He whispers near your ear, taking a step back to look over your face. “What’s up?”

The way his head tilts scrutinizing your face makes your chest cave, lips pressed together tightly as his eyelashes lower over his iris the more he lowers toward your neck; the collar of your shirt saves you of any fear that Haechan left behind any incriminating evidence of what took place less than an hour ago.

“Hmm..” Jeno reaches forward before you have a chance to react, tugging you closer by the fanned edges of your collared shirt. “Now why is your top button undone..”

He can see the way your throat jumps, hollowing out between your collarbones with each dry nervous swallow. “And your necklace.”

Your choker, he means. Fuck your choker. The lucid memory of Haechan angrily pulling on the teddy charm adorning the strap squeezing your neck makes your teeth grit, hidden behind your quivering lips. 

“Strange.” Jeno’s eyebrows gather together, the gleam in his eyes darkening despite afternoon sun illuminating down on him, highlighting every defined flawless attractive feature. “You’ve never disobeyed me this much before.”

“Wha—“

“You know you’re supposed to always have this uncovered. Why did I dip into my savings and risk getting chewed out by my dad? For you to try to make me a secret?” Jeno finishes buttoning your shirt back up, digits reaching beneath the leather to adjust the charm’s position while adding more pressure, losing the tiny centimeter of space between your neck and the material. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No!” Your reactions too fast, fast enough to fully widen his eyes, mouth tensed as he meets your gaze. “I—I had to.. to participate..”

“In what?”

“Physical Ed.. you know I always sit out with you.” Jeno watched your choice of physical activity: yoga, for less than a week before deciding this form of education benefited you in no way. Something about those ridiculous yoga pants you wear for class only seemed to distract a group of guys in the weight lifting class across the gym. He concocted doctor's slips for the both of you to sit out and study instead. “Coach didn’t let me today.. she said there's no way my period cramps last all month. I must have forgotten to fix my necklace after getting dressed, I’m sorry..”

Jeno nods, smoothing his thumb over your warm cheek, hot from anxiety rising the longer you stand there and risk the chance of running into Haechan on his way home. “That bitch. I’ll deal with her tomorrow.”

He pauses again, a contemplative look taking over as he reaches for your hair and smooths down fly aways. “No wonder you look sweaty. Must have been working hard, using all of your body and stamina.” Jeno’s tone lowers to a whisper, gently pressing under your lash line. “Even smeared your mascara..”

“I really should take a shower.” You say, managing to speak quickly without stutter. “Didn’t have a chance to after gym class and the air conditioning must have been broken or something in the homeroom.”

“That’s fine.” Leaning in, his nose presses to your jugular taking a deep inhale. “I like it, smell like you just got fucked.” Reaching for your lower back, Jeno moves you forward toward the passenger seat, the facade of a nice boyfriend(or whatever he is) vanishes with the turn of his head. 

You learned quickly to let him do what he wants after receiving nothing but hard stares to shut you down. Jeno wants things done his way, even buckling your seatbelt is his responsibility.

The engine vibrates as you wait for him to settle into his seat and back out of the parking lot, just barely missing Haechan’s exit by a few seconds.

It’s silent on the way to his home, tense and thick. Maybe it’s guilt, your guilt, guilt you can’t understand carrying to begin with. Why should you feel guilty? Does Jeno deserve that? Is it really because Haechan didn’t feel like Jeno? Because he didn’t make you relinquish control, didn’t make you feel special? Is that what Jeno does? He makes you feel like nothing else matters more than you?

Biting your nails raw, down to the rough neglected skin beneath until the tips of your fingers ache, you’re unsure if it's the silence that bothers you more or your spiraling thoughts screaming louder and louder. “Was everything okay? With your dad?”

Jeno comes to a stop at a red light, tapping the steering wheel, lips parting open into a half smile. “I didn’t think you’d ask me.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, only glances from the corner of his eye, sleek and cold. “You never ask me anything.”

A dry breathy laugh passes through his nose, stepping on the gas again as you near the neighborhood you’ve become more familiar with than your own by now. “Did you miss me that much today, teddy?” He’s grinning, stoically, and if you blink too long you’d miss the way his head shakes in disbelief. 

Shutting off his car, he turns and reaches for your chin to lift your face up. It’s your best effort to appear as nothing, not display an ounce of guilt or shame, but not smile or stare back too long— because that would be out of character. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

The gleam passing his gaze is damn near unnerving, adjusting your face side to side as if he’s inspecting for damage. “Did something happen while I was gone?” 

The most you give him is a barely noticeable shake of your head, gaze lowered to your lap, nothing too out of the ordinary..

Jeno leans over the space between you, turning your gaze back to him, digits spread out along your jaw for more control. “I think..”

He presses closer, forehead connecting to yours leaving just an inch of space between your nose and lips. Lips that left behind their moisture and shine on another man, a mouth that you fear may still carry remnants of his taste. “My teddy..”

Jeno’s lips graze yours enough to hitch your breath, shutting the seam of your mouth shut. That doesn’t stop him from cupping your face, overtaking power and pushing your lips forward with the pressure of his palms squeezing you in. “You are starting to like me more than you realize.” 

He kisses the swell of your pout, biting his lower lip for a second to admire how swollen and worn your mouth looks; as if someone has sucked on the fleshy fat roughly. Someone reckless who could give a shit about you. “Or at least more than you’re ready to admit.” 

Jeno lets go, leaving you gasping for breath as he sits back and studies your reaction. “Kiss me.” 

It’s not a question, it’s not even a demand, he’s too relaxed. It’s expectant, because you’ll listen to him, if you know what’s good for you; and you do.

There’s no way to crawl between the front seats without it being awkward, having to reach for Jeno’s thigh to keep yourself sturdy. He huffs to mask a laugh, turning away when you direct your pout toward his lips. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

He knows you don’t want to, but he doesn’t know why; and maybe that’s where your guilt stems from because you can still taste Haechan between your teeth; and the pink flush spread across his mouth stirs a need up from your stomach to your chest.

“Go on.” Jeno’s head rests against his seat, eyebrows raised waiting. You manage to slip onto his lap after banging your knee into the cup holder, gripping onto his shoulders to align your weight onto his crotch. The same way he likes to hold you in the evening while playing games with your head laid on his chest. 

Jeno kisses you everyday, he kisses you. You could trace the shape of his lips with your eyes shut at this point, subconsciously you even notice whenever he reapplies chapstick from the light menthol scent and taste alone.

There’s something you’ve noticed over time as you lean in and breathe out nervously across his impatient mouth. Jeno never looks away first, he watches for your response to everything, silently analyzing the tiniest smallest movements. He has to, because you give him nothing, and he does it well. Even now with your eyes falling shut too nervous to look at him up close, he stays tuned in to your bottom lip trembling, the little twitch between your eyebrows and how much your hands shake while gliding up to his neck.

This shouldn’t feel like your first kiss with him, not after everything, but it does. You are the one in control for once and you’re the one applying pressure. Taking time to feel out just how soft his lips actually are when they aren’t roughly prying your mouth open to shove his tongue inside. The tightness beneath your palms even seems to relax the more you move between top and bottom lip, gently sucking and pulling them between yours. 

Jeno doesn’t move, he even lets his hands rest by his thighs despite itching to gather your waist and grind you down against him. He wants to see how far you’ll go on your own, especially after today; because maybe you needed this time apart, albeit only a few hours, but maybe you needed to be alone to understand just how much you need him.

“I’m not a good kisser..” you finish with a light as a feather peck at the corner of his mouth, dropping your face embarrassed. “It’s better when you do it.”

Oh? He perks up at that, giving into his desire with hands encompassing your waist. “You are good, you just..”

He rubs up and down your sides, letting out a long sigh while looking you over. “You don’t like me, right?” Jeno bites down a smile, nodding to himself. He knows you’d pour your soul into a kiss with Haechan, you probably dream of some ridiculously romantic rekindling of your relationship with some ridiculous scenario: fixing all the damage with one kiss..

“That’s not it—“

“You don’t.” He nods again, an accepting nod. 

And it’s okay, because you still have hope, somehow you still have so much hope that Haechan will save you from this. That your stupid childhood first love still carries you deep within his heart the way you always have, because you have so much good left inside of you in spite of every obstacle put in your way. Jeno likes that, that’s why he befriended Haechan in the first place, because good people are rare to come by.

But Haechan is not a good person anymore, and soon enough your spark will die out too.

“It’s not that Jeno..”

“Let’s get inside, I ordered takeout, should be here soon.” He says with an ordering pat pat pat against your hip, unlocking his door for you to exit first. “You hardly touched your lunch today.”

“Is it okay if I take a shower first?” Having to ask makes your stomach churn, mumbling behind the tips of your fingers finding their way back between your teeth to bite down on your nails.

“Stop doing that.” Jeno gently pries your wrists away, opening the door to his bedroom. “You never shower until after we fuck.”

“Like I said.. the air conditioning..”

Jeno eyes you skeptically, huffing and grinning. “You think I’ll care if you smell a little?” He’s back on you, encasing your waist as he bends in to drag his nose along your throat. “I think you smell sweet.”

“It’s not that.. I just feel gross.”

And you do, you feel extremely gross. More disgusted with yourself than you’ve ever felt after allowing Jeno to defile you. The more you try to push away what you’ve just done, the more unsettled you feel by all of it.

“You wanna change?” He places a light kiss upon your cheekbone, moving away to sit at his computer chair. “Grab whatever you want to wear. Don’t take too long though or your food will get cold.”

Part of you wants to stand there and argue, claim that you aren’t hungry despite the rumble your stomach gives at the mention of warm food; but a hot shower to wash away the remnants of Haechan’s spit and other fluids depletes any will to bother Jeno any longer. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, skimming over the drawers lined up against the other side of his bedroom. 

Jeno hums, already logging on to play league and waving you off. “Yeah, wear whatever.”

Showering in his bathroom had become very standard, like he said you typically prefer to after the act, but today’s different of course. His bathroom is much nicer than the community one shared by multiple people at your shitty studio complex. The studio you rarely spend much time living in anymore ever since Jeno forced his way into your life. 

There is something inside of you that sighs out of relief under the shower stream, stretching your arms out and up high freely, enjoying the quality of bath soaps and shower gels he keeps stocked. Jeno always smells nice, fresh and clean, not smokey and suffocating the way Haechan did..

The memory of his luxurious musky scent has your palms traveling lower, reaching for the shower head to thoroughly clean away any possible trace of him left behind between your legs. 

Jeno would go ballistic if he knew.. you aren’t even sure how he’d react, and you don’t want to find out.

“Food’s here?” You ask quietly, still drying your hair by the bathroom door connected to Jeno’s bedroom. He takes a minute to answer, engulfed in the game playing across his computer screen.

“Just got here.” Jeno says, hitting pause to look at you. His lips loosen, jaw opening as he gazes from your feet taking short steps forward to your bare legs and his pink hoodie hanging past your hips. “Wow.”

“What?” You pause, looking yourself over nervously. He said to pick whatever you want to wear, you even double checked with him. He can’t be mad right? Maybe this is his favorite hoodie and now—

Jeno’s eyes soften, scanning up and down your figure as he reaches out and rolls his seat forward to grab your hips. “You look really cute.”

“Oh..” heat drives up your neck, lowering your eyes to look away from the pleased smile that tugs at his lips.

“I should make you wear my clothes more often.” Jeno squeezes up your sides, drawing the fabric to follow his touch and lift over your hips. “Come here.” 

Leaning back, he motions for you to climb onto his lap, a bag of steaming hot food sits at the corner of his desk waiting. “But the food..”

He lifts one groomed eyebrow, responding with a silent command to do as he says before he makes you regret it. 

“We’ll eat first.” Jeno wraps an arm around your stomach, tugging your back to press against his chest as he reaches for the bag. “Put on whatever you want to watch.”

It’s times like this in his bedroom, as you ease into his hold and pout when he swirls noodles around a fork to feed you with that you can’t help but to feel something. 

Something you can’t bring yourself to accept, because that would make him right about everything.. 

That’s what makes it harder to eat, harder to sit still and let yourself grow too comfortable, harder to laugh when something funny happens on the TV show you chose. 

Jeno can’t win, even if he continues to prod your mouth with another spoonful of rice, and softly smiles before licking away a piece from the corner of your mouth. “You’re so cute.” He mumbles, pushing the boxes of food aside. “Turn around.”

“Do we have to?”

Large palms run up your thighs, squeezing as they find a way between your legs to the fleshy meat lined along the outsides of your groin. “You’re cute, but don’t test me.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

Jeno’s been extra clingy ever since that day he had to leave earlier. You can’t say you hate it.. and maybe it gives you an excuse for why Haechan’s been completely avoidant, not looking at you once. You wanted to wave at him, say hi as you passed each other, but with thick biceps belted around you at all times you knew better.

He could just be ignoring you because of Jeno.

He could just be ignoring you because he doesn’t give a shit.

“Really do hate that I have to spend the next hour and a half without you.” Jeno sighs sadly, kissing your cheek. “Fucking hate Philosophy too.”

“It’s just one class.”

“One class that’s stealing precious time I could be spending with my girlfriend.”

There he goes again, that bullshit title he keeps using. It’s almost worse than his constant love bombs. “Second bells about to ring.” You mumble, shoving his arms off.

“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t wait to get away from me.” He pouts, leaning against the door frame, glancing behind you at the area he knows you often set up at. Eyes squinting as he observes one of your classmates. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Be good.”

Or else.

The silent haunting echo follows you to your seat, apprehensively setting your bag down with a subtle peak toward the door to make sure he’s gone. 

“How’s the research going?”

A deep voice startles you, jumping up and dropping your belongings. “Crap.”

“Ah, that’s my bad.” He crouches down before you’re even squatted halfway, long hands reaching to gather your brushes and pencils. “Was just asking how the papers going. I really think we should get together to make sure we’re both on the same page. I don’t want you to hate me if we get a bad grade..” 

“Get together?!” You splurt out abruptly, coughing on choked spit. “Outside of class??”

The thing is, Jeno didn’t really know about Jisung Park. Why would he? He’s not in this class.

He didn’t know that part of the reason you loved this class so much wasn’t because he’s not in it. No(although that helps). It’s because from the first day you noticed Jisung sitting quietly free-hand drawing beautifully, you wanted to compliment his sketches, get to know him better; ask if he’s always had an interest in art..

But you didn’t, instead you shyly hid your face and looked away whenever he’d glance around. Sure, maybe you happened to notice how attractive he is too, but that didn’t matter to you. It’s not like you had a crush on him or anything..

And it’s not like your stomach exploded with butterflies as everyone paired off for your final project for the semester, leaving you nervously taking steps back and forth looking for anyone available.

Jisung approached you first, asking quietly and shyly. ‘Do you have a partner yet?’

That’s how you ended up here, your norm for the last week being to sit by him during class so you could exchange ideas and work on your final project together. 

And that crush you didn’t have ended up becoming very very real. Jisung.. he’s nice, really nice. Genuine and thoughtful, he always asks how your days been, if you have any plans later on, tries to get to know you with curious and non-invasive questions.

It’s easy to bond over your love and appreciation for art, and he thought it was cool that you once dreamed of illustrating mangas(until capitalism and reality set in). He sparked light around the dark corners you hide in. Your secret, something only for you, something Jeno couldn’t ruin or touch..

“Yeah. You can come over to my place tonight? My parents both work late hours so we shouldn’t have any interruptions.”

An invite to his place, where you’d be alone. Only the two of you, no Jeno..

“Your place? Tonight?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay with you?” Jisung smiles apprehensively, reaching to scratch at his sideburn. “I’d like to keep my perfect GPA intact.. it’s okay if you can’t, I don’t mind completing the bulk of it myself.”

“No no, that’s not fair.” You wave him off, biting at your nail. “I’ll uhm, yeah—no, yeah, I’m free later. Write down your address.” Sliding him your notebook, you reach for your phone to text Jeno under your desk. This is for school, for your perfect GPA.. he needs to be understanding.

Jisung perks up and scribbles down where you can meet him after school, clapping his hands together. “I’ll set some snacks out for us, I’m sure we’ll be working hours into the evening.”

Hours into the evening.. Jeno won’t like that.

Jeno doesn’t like that. Immediately shooting down your messages with a flat out ‘no’.

It came down to begging, explaining to him on the way to your next class how important this extracurricular course is for your future internship applications, even your counselor said that. It’s not a good look if you only excel in your non-creative courses, unless you plan to apply for a job that requires zero social interaction and teamwork. 

‘Good luck with that.’ Your counselor mumbled, signing you up for this art class in the first place.

“The whole purpose of being here is for you to finish partnered work here.” Jeno snaps, shaking his head. “Who’s your partner anyway?! Why haven’t you mentioned this until now??”

“We only barely received the project yesterday!” You lie, looking at anything else but him. “My partner.. Hani!” Thinking fast you blurt out the first classmate you can think of, praying to yourself that Jeno doesn’t know her.

“Hani?” He repeats, seeming pleased to hear a girl's name. “And what time are you supposed to meet?”

It took further convincing, a little bit of bribery, maybe you skipped Yoga to suck him off in the bathroom. But it worked, Jeno seemed at ease after hearing that your classmate Hani was counting on this project to keep her grades up. Your scholarship requirements too, sure.

“Call me when you’re done.” He says, parking on another street nearby you’d given him directions to, just in case..

“Of course.. it might be late.”

Jeno grumbles, leaning over to kiss you until your lips feel bruised and tender. He kisses like it could be the last time he’ll ever see you, but that never makes you react. He always kisses like that..

“Love you.”

You nod, stepping out and waving him off, letting him know that Hani takes the bus home and you’ll have to wait a few minutes longer. He seems hesitant to drive off at first, only finally taking off out of the street when his dad calls him about something.

Phew.

Panic and fear get shoved down as you make your way to Jisung’s actual address. You shouldn’t be this nervous, it’s just a project..

With your crush, alone, together, only the two of you. That’s why you stand at the front door to his house for a while, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strings of your backpack.

Jeno would be really mad if he found out about this. What would be worse? Lying? Or Jisung? There’s no way he would have allowed for you to come here alone, without him. Lying was your only option..

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the doorbell, gasping as it flies open immediately.

“You made it!” He smiles, toeing off his shoes, still wearing the same outfit from earlier. “I just got in myself, had to jump the backyard fence because I must have dropped my key, sorry. Were you waiting long?”

“Oh no.. it’s fine.” You mumble, passing through and removing your shoes quietly. He seems even taller now, walking next to him in nothing but socks. 

“You must be hungry, let’s raid the pantry real fast before heading to my room.”

His room, you’ll be alone in his room..

Jisung’s a couple of years younger than you, and it’s evident when you step inside of his bedroom and take in the different toys he has scattered about; moving around to throw his jacket over a pile of stuffed animals displayed in one corner.

“Shall we?” He says, motioning to sit at his desk, dropping the bags of chips and cookies he found. “I’ve already wrapped up the bulk of writing, and cited everything, we just have to go over key points for our presentation.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you for doing all of that.” You smile, sensing heat rise up to your cheeks. His parents must not use the air conditioning much..

He snorts breathily, shrugging. “You seem really busy, with your boyfriend and all..”

“He’s not my boyf—he’s,” trailing off, you shake your head and grab your notes. “Let’s focus on this so we can try to finish early.”

“You’re always with him..” Jisung sits up awkwardly, playing with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You’re right, let’s uhm, get to work.

To your surprise Jeno doesn’t blow up your phone with texts, and you think about his dad again. He never did tell you what happened that day.. he should share personal things with you if he expects you to start trusting him. To build some solid type of relationship with him. The skin around your nails practically screams and begs to be left alone as you bring your fingers up to your mouth and begin to bite at anything you can find. He should have texted you by now..

“Something wrong?” Jisung asks, ruffling his fluffy black hair. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“We’ve been working for two hours,” he nods, setting down his pen and organizing what you’ve finished so far. “Let’s take a break, I can really use one too.”

A break? Your eyes widen, following his figure as he stands and stretches his arms up, tight shirt lifting up his stomach halfway giving your curious gaze a real show. “Come on, our brains are probably in overdrive after a day of classes and now this, you should lay down for a bit.”

Lay down?!

Motioning to his bed, he smiles and directs you to follow with his chin. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He says sitting down, patting the empty space next to him.

Oh, but you might. 

Stealing one more glance at your phone, you set it screen down on his desk, getting up and pretending to yawn. “You’re right.. sometimes I don’t know when to stop.”

Jisung laughs lightly, falling back and letting out a long sigh. “Me too, my grades mean a lot to me. I’m trying to get an internship this summer at Lee Corp.”

“No way!” You say excitedly, staying sat up on his bed and leaning on your palm to look at him. “I am too! Which program are you going for?”

“Engineer of course, they pay the best out of everyone in the country. Did you read that Forbes article? Haechan’s father must be a genius.”

You hum, brushing off the comment about Haechan, he’s the last person you want to talk about right now. “I was thinking about Global Affairs.. I really think a lot of their apps could expand and excel in foreign countries.”

Jisung laughs, smiling up his eyes, clasping his hands together on his stomach. “Look at us trying to relax.. we still end up talking about work.”

“I guess you’re right.. I’m not the best at, uh, relaxing?”

Jisung sits up on his elbows, eyebrows lifted as he looks at you. “I could.. make some suggestions.”

“Uhhh..”

He lets out an awkward laugh, turning onto his side and scratching his neck. “Sorry, that was lame. It’s just uhm, since you said you don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve been thinking..”

Shit.

He sucks in his thick pink bottom lip, biting down nervously. “I’ve always thought you were real cute, but you’re always with that guy so I kept my distance.”

“You, y-you did?” You stammer, clearing your throat and sitting up straight. “Ah, that’s—that’s nice. I mean, thank you.”

Jisung sits up, long bangs falling into his eyes as he tilts and stares at you in a way you’ve never had anyone look at you. There’s softness in his gaze, exposing his teeth as he leans closer to your face, huffing under his breath. “I’m not good at this, but I’d really like to kiss you right now..”

Kiss?!? 

“Is that okay?” There’s a tremble in his voice, dipping in closer until your noses are less than an inch apart.

No. It’s not okay. You shouldn’t even be here right now. But isn’t it okay? Aren’t you in this relationship with Jeno against your will? Hasn’t Haechan been ignoring you for days? This could be your only chance at something normal.. someone who actually likes you for you.

Jisung’s heart looks damn near ready to break judging by the way his pout begins to droop, it’s instinct to rectify what you’ve caused that has you pressing forward; the first to brush your lips together. He lets a staggered breath free, moving to cup around your throat to deepen the kiss. It’s soft, nice, slow enough that you can process and absorb every small caress of your lips against his. 

“I really..” he sighs out a laugh, tapping the end of his nose to yours. “Could help you relax..”

You deserve this, right? Why even question it? You like him, he likes you, and a part of you fully expected(or wanted) this to happen.

“Okay..” 

Maybe the soft innocence radiating off of him is moreso the difference in your age. But there’s something about the way Jisung gently lays you down and places a pillow beneath your head. He kisses you again, and again, and again, slowly working your mouth open to allow his tongue to roam freely and explore. 

It’s nice and calm without overstimulating your arousal, not until his fingers trace along your throat, pulling back with a smile that asks for permission.

Assuming he expects more you squirm anxiously, helping him slide his hand lower down your stomach to the button of your jeans. “Can I?” He asks, again, always checking in to confirm you’re okay with his next move.

You help him by shimmying out of your jeans, allowing for his hand to dip inside of your underwear as you continue to kiss and arch up at the first graze of long thick fingers swiping between your folds. His hands are warm, movements fluid and practiced, collecting the wad of wetness at your entrance to rub over your clit and begin stimulating your nerves. You can’t help to think- this is how it’s supposed to be, getting to know your body first with soft strokes, feeling the different parts of you to learn what gets you off.

“Wanna eat you out.” Jisung whispers against your mouth, trailing two digits lower to press against your hole. “Wanna taste.”

You nod eagerly, much too eagerly, kicking your jeans off to the floor, lifting your hips to invite him inside. He rubs circles around your entrance teasingly, tapping a few times before pulling out to sit up on his knees and tug off his shirt. 

Jisung may be younger, but his body’s built nothing short of a man. Muscles line his stomach, arms firm and flexed as he pushes off his pants and climbs back onto the bed in nothing but a snuggly fit pair of boxer briefs. He pushes your top up under your breasts, hands large enough to hide the base of your stomach when they lay flat on top of you and begin to slide down to your underwear. “Like your panties..” he whispers, leaning down to trace the rose on your mound, making your hips twitch.

He likes them enough to not even take them off, laying down on his stomach to drag his nose down the damp seat of your panties. God Jeno would never— stop thinking about him. Stop saying what he’d do, he doesn’t exist. Jisung’s the one between your thighs, collecting your underwear to one side and taking a deep breath. “You’re just as pretty down here..” 

His deep voice makes your toes curl against the bed, bending your knees up to grant him more access. “Can I touch?”

Nodding eagerly, you lift your hips again for him to push your folds apart, groaning as his thumb presses to your clit. “Like it when I do that?”

“Yes.. use your mouth..”

Jisung groans, half whimpering, tucking his face lower between your thighs. Thick lips suction around your clit, sucking the nub between and flicking his tongue out. His slow polite manners dissipate the more he ruts against his bed and sucks around your bundle of nerves. “Taste as good as you look.” He murmurs, long tongue dragging down to your tight hole to lap inside. 

“You’re getting real wet.” He breathes out, cursing. Ducking back down to lick a fat stripe from your contracting wet hole to your clit. His tongue laves between your folds, spilling saliva and wetness across each, dipping his tongue in and out. He suckles on your clit, big hands splayed on your inner thighs pushing them further open to jam his tongue deeper inside.

You need more, fingers twitch midair before reaching into his hair and scratching at his scalp. “More!”

Jisung growls, shoving his face in until his nose digs against your bundle of nerves, panting against your opening with his tongue flicking against your inner walls.

He pulls back to glide two fingers inside, taking the chance to tug firmly on his scalp and shake your head. “Do y-you have a condom?”

Surprise paints his delicate face, appearing obscene with your arousal hanging from his chin. He nods quickly and jumps from the bed to slam open his bedside drawer and pull out a wad of protection. “I have a ton!” He scurries back onto the bed and grabs onto your knees, wide-eyed and dazed. “I mean.. do you want to?”

“Mhm..” you nod, sitting up to kiss up his neck, ripping the packet open and shoving your hand inside of his briefs.

You wish he would shut up just a little, favoring the breathy whines and whimpered moans he lets out when you finally wrap around his length and slide down the condom. 

Jisung kisses you again, sucking on your bottom lip until it swells, licking across the fronts of your teeth. He lowers you back down comfortably and shoves his boxers down, length jumping up and slapping against his stomach. 

“Y-you’re not like..” Jisung stutters, laughing to himself as he positions to line his cock up to your cunt. “Like a virgin?”

This is why you wish he’d shut up, gritting your teeth before forcing a smile. “Of course not.”

“Ah, figured.. wanted to be sure.” He takes a deep breath and cups your hips, inching forward slowly. “If it hurts—“

“I’ll let you know.”

It stings a little once he’s sheathed in half deep, he’s big, most of all thick. But the pain feels familiar, something you crave now.. 

“Come on.” You encourage, lifting your hips to fuck the rest of his length inside. “Fuck me, come on.” 

Jisung gasps, long and choked, falling forward and catching himself by grabbing onto your shoulders. He watches your hips cant up for a minute, literally riding his cock, pussy slapping against his pelvis.

“Fuck, oh my God..” he croons, sounding out of breath already. 

“Fuck me!” You beg, clinging onto his waist to scratch your nails down his flat tight stomach. “Please please, fuck me.”

Jisung snaps, nodding furiously as he crawls forward on his knees and hooks your thighs over his hips, throwing his hips into action to ram inside of you faster.

“Yeah yeah, just like that!” You whine, fucking him back to make him match your speed. 

His hands reach for your waist, slamming in harder until you’re gurgling and writhing in his hold. Cock sliding in and out so wet and deep, the pain completely gone, only receiving pleasure with each meet of your hips. 

It’s still missing something, something that has you reaching between your bodies to pinch your clit between two fingers. Nodding and panting for him to keep going. “S-so close.”

His palms land flat around the sides of your head, gripping the bedding in tight fists, using the leverage to drop his hips down faster. Fuck his cock in deeper and harder.

The sight of him above you, pale, muscular, black hair in his face, it’s enough to drift your mind away somewhere else. Shutting your eyes as heat burns up from your gut to your chest. Clit gone numb from your ferocious rubs, you twitch and cry out. The squeeze slowing him down as you clamp around him and begin to cum.

“Yesyesyes!” Through your blurry vision you can see him crumbling on top of you. Forcing his cock in past your tight heat, if not for how pitchy his moans sing out you’d swear..

“Ah, I’m c-cumming! I’m cu-cumming!” Jisung’s face tightens up, kissing the backs of his teeth. Hips locked in place, cock twitching as he fills up the condom with warmth. He pants and hangs his head between his shoulders, hips circling on more time before pulling out slowly. An audible pop resounds once he’s emptied you, flopping onto the bed by your side, stripping the condom off to give his dick a break for a moment, he throws it aside and lays back catching his breath. “No better way to relax than that..”

You wish you could say the same, already seeking your nails to chew on. That couldn’t have been too long, right? You need to check your phone, Jeno could have surely hunted you down by now if you’d even taken longer than a minute to respond. Maybe he’s really trying to respect your boundaries for once. Either way, you need to get out of here.

Tip toeing on to his bedroom floor, you step back into your clothes, quietly gathering your things to not wake him. Waking him could lead to conversation and more time you’d have to spend here..

There’s something you can only describe as guilt infiltrating your mostly pleased thoughts. Sneaking out of Jisung’s house was easy, scribbling off a note quickly that you’d see him at school later.

Jeno could be waiting outside where he dropped you off, you told him not to.. but he worries about you a lot. He’s always worried about you, it’s nice actually. It’s nice how much he cares about you, hell.. he checks in on you more than even your own parents. 

God. What the hell are you thinking? Who cares if he worries about you. He’s a fucking psycho is what he is. Why are you even thinking about him right now? After everything that’s happened.

Jisung’s really nice, he’s really smart, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Yet Jeno.. Jeno feels like an infection you can’t find the cure for at this point. He’s everywhere, every time you shut your eyes, whenever you wake up, he’s the first person you think about, the first person you want to see.

This is ridiculous, you’re just tired, that’s it. Too tired to wait for Jeno to come get you. It’ll be best to take the bus back to your studio today, he’d probably make you go home with him and keep you up way too late. His bed may be nicer than yours, sure. His bathroom an actual personal bathroom, and as your ‘boyfriend’ he always makes sure you’re well fed. The grumble your stomach lets out doesn’t go unnoticed, ignoring it as you pick up your phone to shoot off a text message.

‘Really tired. Heading home. See you in the morning.’

Reading over your text before sending it, you chew at dry skin around your nails, dropping your hand quickly as if Jeno’s slapped it down again. He always does, reprimands you whenever you bite your nails or rip the dead skin off with your teeth. He does it because he cares about you, right? 

Fuck him. Seriously fuck that asshole.

Pressing your thumb down earnestly, you send the text and shut your phone off, bringing your thumb up to your lip to rip off an annoying piece of skin.

“Shit.” You hiss, shaking off your hand. More came off, opening a wound and stinging around the cuticle. Shining with red blood that rushed to fill up the divots around your nail bed.

Jeno would probably glare at you, raise your thumb to his mouth to suck on. He’d make it hurt less..

Brushing those thoughts aside, you pocket your fingers and tighten your jacket, making your way toward the nearest bus stop. He won’t like that you turned off your phone, he won’t like that you took public transport home instead of waiting for him, he doesn’t like anything really.

Except you..

It’s been a long while since you’ve taken the bus home, and it’s late, mostly empty. It’s hard to not notice a couple curled up in one of the two seaters, laughing at something on a phone together. Sometimes you watch things with Jeno, and you try to keep your amusement at bay, you try to emit nothing other than misery, but it’s become something you secretly look forward to these days..

Why do you keep thinking about him? What if Jisung’s texting you? Glancing at your blacked out phone screen, you wonder if he is, he could be.. Jisung seems to like you. He seems normal.. 

Normal could be nice. 

Normal.

Why can’t you and Jeno be normal? What if you are?

Coming home alone without him by your side seems odd now. This isn’t normal anymore, this isn’t your normal anymore.

Jeno is your normal. 

As you crawl into bed and take a deep sigh, you can’t help but to wrap yourself up tighter, curl up into a more fettle helpless position, and you can’t stop the tears that erupt from your eyes until they blur your vision and make your head pound. 

He should be here, he should be here to keep you safe and warm, but he’s not, and nothing feels normal anymore. ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ 

One thing about Jeno you’ve noticed is that he is always on time. He’s extremely punctual, and if he’s not, he always, without fail, will make sure to alert you with a call or text. 

Today’s different. 

Because even when you turned your phone on this morning and rubbed sleepy dry tears from your swollen eyes, no notifications from Jeno appeared.

Jisung had sent a few messages, thanking you for a great time and hoping you made it home safe. The last text you sent Jeno hadn’t even been opened, and his read receipts have always been turned on for as long as you’ve known him..

He’ll show up outside of your complex at 8 o’clock on the dot as usual. Maybe he forgot to charge his phone(that’s unlike him). 

But 8am comes around, and his car doesn’t round the corner, and minutes tick by, and he doesn’t show up. Each glance at your phone screen feels more like a plea for something, silently begging for a text or call to appear. Something to indicate he’s on his way, maybe traffic is heavier than usual today..

‘Hey. I’m waiting outside.’

You never add emojis. Keep messages as short and simple as you can. It would come across as too nice, too weird given the dynamic of your relationship, but that doesn’t stop your thumb from hovering over a smiley face before hitting send. Shaking it off, you watch the minutes go by, nursing the cut up cuticle you ripped off last night between your lips. If you don’t leave soon to catch the bus you’ll be late.

One more minute, you’ll wait one more minute before running to catch the next bus. 

‘Is everything okay?’

What if he got into an accident? Did Jeno even make it home yesterday after dropping you off? What if he’s in a hospital bed somewhere, disfigured, all alone without anyone to keep him company? What are you even thinking right now?!

It doesn’t calm your nerves a bit that he hasn’t opened a single text message you’ve sent. Doesn’t help as you cram onto a crowded bus and worry your thumb down to raw skin, biting every little piece you can get your teeth on. Doesn’t help that you can’t stop glancing at your phone, envisioning each terrible outcome.

He’ll be at school, he’ll be waiting at your lockers and walk you to class, sit by your side as usual. Throw out an assload of compliments that piss you off, stare at you and play with your hair. It’s fine, everything is fine, he’s a good driver. How could he possibly get into an accident? Jeno? Never.

But he’s not waiting at your lockers, even as you stand around longer peering up and down the hallway for him to show up. You can’t ask anyone if they’ve seen him either, it’s not like you know anyone to ask.

He’s not in your first class, doesn’t show up for second period, or third, and your phone never once dings with a new notification.

Even as your names are called out to grab attendance and you silently pray he’ll appear at the classroom door out of breath, finding your surprised gaze on him. A huge smile will stretch his cheeks into a bundle of wrinkles, eyes disappearing when he meets yours.

But that doesn’t happen, and in a panic you send off a slew of text messages, biting your nails down to nothing but raw skin.

‘Is everything okay Jeno? Did your phone die?’

‘I’m at school. Should I meet you for lunch somewhere?’

‘Are you sick?’

There’s no way to explain the fear clawing at your chest, the rumble in your stomach, the ache that pangs through your heart. It’s not because you care about him, he doesn’t deserve that from you, not even out of human decency. But maybe, just maybe, you are worried, because Jeno’s face has become such a normal part of your daily life. His light touches, a gaze that never loses sight of you, a powerful aura that wraps you up behind an invisible shield that makes you feel safe. As insane as it feels to even contemplate, you can’t help it.

He’s a disease, streaming through your blood, destroying all of your white blood cells and leaving you with no option other than to rely on him to survive. Some may even consider that love, if you think about it.

He sought you out in the first place, didn’t he? Took notice of something special in you that clearly no one else does. Like right now as you walk to your locker, head hung low, no one cares. No one’s looking at you, no one notices you or sees you. They always see you when Jeno’s by your side. He’s the bright light that illuminates around you, and you? You’re nothing. 

Jeno made you something though. He made you his.

How hasn’t he replied yet?!? What the hell is his problem! You’d scream if you could, that’s how desperate you feel, not even a god damn text? Nothing?!

You could always leave.. take the bus to his house. It’s possible he is severely injured after all, his parents might not even have a clue. It’s the least you can do, at least inform them that their son’s on his deathbed because of a horrific accident. Because that’s the only logical explanation you can fathom for why he hasn’t attempted to contact you even once since yesterday. It’s your fault too, if he really got into a bad car wreck after dropping you off. Yeah, you should definitely take the rest of the day off, it’s the right thing to do..

Adding speed to your steps, you rush toward your locker to grab your bag, prying it open quickly and nearly missing the folded note that slips out. A note.. with very familiar handwriting. A note in your locker after all this time, exactly like the ones you used to receive..

‘It’s been awhile hasn’t it angel? I haven’t felt the need to speak to you like this in such a long time now it seems. We have grown so close now, there are times I catch your gaze wandering away from me. I realize in those moments how much I’ve truly given up for you.

I lost my friends, carry guilt on my back of getting caught; that Haechan will find the courage to snitch me out.. The chance of my father disowning me for ruining his one chance to free himself from this impoverishment. In those moments I know you look away silently praying for someone to save you, when really, it’s been me all along.

I’ve only ever wanted to save you because you deserve better than this. I’m waiting for you, I know you’re smart enough to find your way.

-Your Teddy Bear’

This has to be a sick joke, you fully believe this has to be a sick joke; but your lip twitches, your tongue presses to the fronts of your teeth, and you can feel moisture itching at the backs of your eyes.

Jeno hadn’t picked you up today, he never sent a message to explain why. The last he’d spoken with you was on the car ride over to Jisung’s, and even then you never said much. He hadn’t said much either if you really think back, stay silent for most of the drive.

The last place you want to revisit is room 0423 after that day.

‘I’m waiting for you.’ 

Stoic and zombie-like your feet drag through the halls finding your way to the abandoned sector of the school. Because he’s waiting, and like a fool you’ve been waiting for him too.  

You couldn’t process a thought, mindless as you found your way in front of the door that read 0423 before you. At this point there isn’t much else Jeno can pull to surprise you. Probably planning a setup of some sort to commemorate the day he met you, since it matters to him so much.

“Don’t act shy and stand out there forever, I’m waiting.” His voice echoes through the small opening, leaving the door cracked enough for you to know to come inside.

Everything appears to be the same as you remember, other than the giant teddy bear Jeno gifted you sitting at the teacher's table, his back facing you from where he sits on one of the student desks at the front row. 

“Took you long enough to show up. I expected you’d be sick to your stomach without me, buried with your face in a porcelain bowl. Although, I must say, your messages have been quite entertaining.” Jeno begins to speak, his back muscles flexing as he laughs sarcastically. His neck bends forward, nodding to himself. “I won’t lie, I didn’t expect even that much from you. I dare say, you seemed frantic, worried even..”

“Why did you want me to come back here?” You ask softly, inching closer to where he sits. Jeno listens to the sound of your sneakers drag against the linoleum floor, he listens to your calm breath, he listens to your nails scratch by on each desk you pass, and he smiles stiffly.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?” Jeno’s teeth grit, fisting a remote control in his grip. He stands up abruptly in a way that startles you. Instinctively lifting your fists to cover your face as you gasp. Rolling his eyes, he grips onto a curtain near the corner covering up an old school television, and he turns to face you. 

If looks could kill, you know that you’d be laid out on the floor bleeding out right now. He bores into you with a laser sharp gaze, slicing through your chest with a level of intensity he’s kept calm for weeks. 

“Answer me.”

Jeno’s throat shakes, his knuckles saturated in white, cuts of blood red and hues of pink from punching who knows what or who.. and for a quick second you think he may cry as he rapidly blinks away moisture that’s teetering at the brims of his eyes.

“No Jeno.. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I’ve never liked when you lie.” He nods, sniffling loud and hitting play. “You always look dead behind the eyes when you lie, did you know that? Because even you know that deep down inside no matter how much you hate me, lying isn’t your style.”

The black tv screen illuminates, a dim video of sheets that make your eyes squint, familiar..

“Is that—“ the camera zooms out before you can even speculate, cutting off your breath. “N-no—there’s no wa—“

Jeno sneers, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes and nose. He turns the volume up until your pleasured moans resound throughout the classroom, cascading down the walls and your frame like lashings. The camera doesn’t bother to focus on Jisung once, zoomed in on your face, your mouth hung open, the lines formed between your eyebrows.

“H-how..” bile rises up your throat, stepping back until your butt meets the ledge of a desk. There’s no way Jeno could have known, how HOW could he—

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says smoothly, the tears dried up and gone. Spinning on one foot to face you and waved the remote in your direction. “You thought he really liked you, right?”

“N-no it’s n-not that—“

“What did I tell you about lying?” He grite, placating you with a cold hard stare. “I could have saved us the trouble of dealing with any of this. I knew from the second I saw you talking to him in class, I knew from that moment. You looked so happy.” He scoffs, head shaking, pausing the video. “You looked so fucking happy and hopeful, the same way you looked when I saw you talking to Haechan in the library before.”

He takes a deep dramatic breath, tossing the remote aside, arms free to cross over his chest and lock you in place with one of the most fear-inducing looks you’ve ever seen. “You never look at me like that. You never even tell me that you love me, and you pretend..” Jeno shifts back, turning his body away from you. “You pretend to hate me.”

Everything inside of you screams to say something, to tell him that he’s wrong, that you do hate him. But there’s that pain in your chest again, the one that feels worse than any pain you’ve ever felt, worse than when Haechan moved away and slowly forgot about you. Worse than when he ignored you after you had sex..

It’s a pain that only Jeno can pull out of you. It’s denial, hate, love, anger, fear, obsession, worry, and right now, that pain fills you with terror. He knows, and more than worrying about what he’ll do to you, you can’t stop the tears from flowing out at the thought of losing him. 

“I-I’m sorr—“

“Stop.” He snaps quickly, fully turning away and motioning to the classroom stock closet. “You can come out now.”

Through your bleary vision, you see him come out, big smile, broad and tall. Cocky as he clasp hands with Jeno and shoots you a wink over his shoulder. “You’ll send me a copy too, right?” 

“Get the fuck out.” Jeno jeers, crashing his shoulder into Jisung’s side. “Good job though, the money should be in your account.”

“Yeah of course man, anytime.” He smirks before turning to face you, winking as he makes way to pass by you. “And you, I really did have a good time last night.” He leans it quickly to whisper. “If this weird shit you have going on doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”

“Please…please!” You stammer, feeling overwhelmed and overheated the longer you have to listen to yourself get fucked through all of this. Every bit of confusion struggles to clear as your mind rages and grows heavy, painfully beating through your skull. “Turn it off! Please!”

Jeno snickers, ripping the TV’s power cord out. “Not that you deserve peace of mind right now.” He mumbles, petting the teddy bear he gifted you on your anniversary. “What were you thinking?”

“I..” 

What were you thinking??? Obviously you were thinking that your classmate who you’ve secretly had a small liking for may have a small liking for you in return. There’s nothing else to say, you fell right into Jenoms trap, you always will..

“Don’t answer that.” He says, turning toward you with an unrelenting penetrating gaze. “I know what you were thinking. I always know what you’re thinking.”

He steps closer, trapping you against the desk holding your weight up. Weakness takes over your ankles and knees, dropping head head to hang, too ashamed to even look at him. More embarrassed than ashamed.. why should you feel ashamed?

“You thought a guy like that could seriously like you? What’s it going to take for you to learn this lesson?” Jeno continues, voice cutting deep and sharp. “No one here will ever like you except me. Jisung may pity fuck you out of boredom, but he’d never bring a girl like you home. He’d never take you serious, he’ll never give a real fuck about you.”

“T-this whole time..” you stutter, biting down on your lip. “You k-knew this whole time.”

“Pft.” He bends in to meet you eye level, still standing straight to loom over your slouched frame. “I’m always watching you.”

Jeno’s tongue clicks, whistling lowly, taking a step back to snap his fingers in a sarcastic manner. “You know who else could give a shit about you? Haechan.” He nods, finding your red wet eyes. “Haechan who hasn’t acknowledged your existence ever since that day.”

“N-no..” tremors vibrate up your throat, gripping onto the desk beneath you to keep yourself up. “There’s no way..”

“I had a sliver of hope, you know?” He sighs, rubbing at his temples. “I thought maybe you finally understood that Haechan could give a fuck about whatever it is you used to have. That stupid childhood friendship you cherish and hold onto still.” He pauses to look at you, blinking glassy eyes away. “I can’t trust you, even after all that I do to prove to you that you belong with me.”

“This—this isn’t—“

“Haechan—he’ll never love you, he’ll never see you as anything more than some poor loser from his past.” He interrupts, hissing between his teeth. “Jisung, even fatter chance. I’ve explained this to you so many times now. When will you get it.”

“Why are you doing this to me?!” You screech, louder than you even thought possible. Tears rush towards your chin, digging your nails into the cheap old desk wood. “Why me?!?”

Jeno scoops your face, thumbing your wet cheeks softly, almost gently. His own eyes shake, pouring out from the corners. “Because.” He breathes in deep through his nose, wet voice coming out shattered. “I love you.”  

I love you I love you I love you. Those three words repeat over and over again, a face full of anger turning into one you can hardly recognize anymore, fingers dug into your cheeks as if he can somehow force you to believe him this way. It hurts to watch more than anything, as Jeno crumbles and falls to his knees, arms wrapped tight around your hips screaming manically that he loves you.

He. Loves. You.

Haechan doesn’t love you, and a guy like Jisung could never love you..

He’s right. Jeno’s right. He’s been right from the very beginning. You could have listened, avoided all of this? The normalcy you wished to have with him, whatever that could have been.. if it ever could have been.

“Why won’t you love me?!” He sounds broken, distraught, hopeless. The hug around your lower half burns, feels like you’ll never be free, you’ll never get away from him.

You don’t want to get away from him anymore.

“I love you, Jeno..” you can hear your voice empty of life as it exits your lips. The image before you too blurry to even make out past your tear-filled gaze. “I love you.”

The grip on your hips loosens, tears calming to a round of sniffles, he stops shaking and slowly lifts his face to look at you. “Say that again.”

Cold, emotionless, demanding. That’s the tone you’re used to..

“I love you.”

Jeno stands back up, quickly cleaning his eyes off with the heel of his palms. A large smile altering the anger and sadness he just displayed seconds ago. “My Teddy.”

He rambles, words slurred together as you fail to process anything that’s just happened. Could this have ever been normal? Or is this simply who Jeno is? He’s obsessive, crazed, dominant and deranged. 

“I know you love me.” He sighs happily, tugging you in close and rubbing along your spine. “I knew when you made Jisung put on a condom.”

The way spit clogs up your throat at that makes you choke on your next breath, Jeno’s laugh rumbling against your chest as he pats your back to help you. “I thought so after you made Haechan use one, but this really confirmed it. You wanted to hurt me, wanted to make me jealous..” his voice lowers, shifting to whisper in your ear. “But deep down inside you know I’m the only one you want to fuck you full of cum.”

There’s no point in questioning anything, you know he hates when you do that. You know that he has ways to find out things that you can’t begin to understand. “I know baby, that’s why I had to replace your prescription too. Those mints you always popped in your mouth after eating lunch. It’s cute how you play these little mind games with me..”

Mints?! The birth control you started taking after.. that first time. You knew he was evil, mentally deranged, but fucking your with medication?! 

“M-my mints??” You ask in disbelief, having to bite down on the backs of your teeth to stop your jaw from hanging.

Jeno waves a finger at you, tapping your nose. “I don’t believe in that birth control shit.”

And there it is, the same Jeno you became familiar with in this very room. The same one that turns your dreams into nightmares, that makes you look over your shoulder constantly, the one that’s imprisoned you in this inescapable hell. 

“It’s cute how you still think you can out-smart me.” He says sternly, pinching your chin. “But nothing about your constant lying is cute.”

He leans in close, eyes wide open taking in your despair, licking up the tears that seem endless. Everything, all of this, you were never going to win. Winning was never an option.

“You’re so special to me.” Sucking at the droplets dangling from your chin, he nips up your jaw to swallow your earlobe. “So special and real, remind me so much of him. Who he used to be.”

Because that’s really what this all boils down to. You never willingly fell for Jeno’s charms the way everyone else does, he had to force this, and even then you didn’t give. You held on to the last bits of yourself that remained raw and real, you chose to love and accept who you are even when he diminished your worth. And that drove him crazy, tickled him in places he forgot existed, reignited those memories of who his best friend once was.

“I love you.” Jeno repeats, whispering just for you, not that anyone could even hear your screams here from room 0423. No one heard you the last time, no one helped, no one cares.

“I love you too.” The tears that pour down from your upper lip could come across as tears of joy. From an outsider's point of view this could look like the happiest moment of your life. Sharing confessions of love with your boyfriend, a handsome young man who can only be described as obsessed with you, but they aren’t happy tears; and as Jeno grins, squatting down to scoop you up, you have to swallow the rancid bile rising up your throat. Laid back down on the same desk he first had his way with you on, the same place he made you shut up and take it.

It’s crazy and out of body when Jeno’s palms drag down your sides, unbutton your top and reaches under your back to unhook your bra. He’s done it many times, it’s muscle memory at this point removing your clothes. Each small drag of his fingertips feel more chilling, crashing waves of shock throughout your system. Even as he strips you nude and licks down your inner thighs you lay there stoic, gaze unwavering from where he stands between your legs taking time to stroke over your figure.

“What’re you thinking about teddy?” He coos, kissing along the tender skin lining your inner thigh. “You look like a lot is going on inside that pretty head..”

What are you thinking? You’re not thinking much of anything. Unable to process a singular thought as you watch him bend in and kiss down the center of your sternum, trailing down to your navel. There’s nothing else you can say right now, nothing else you want to say as tears collect and spill over, running down to your ears. 

“I missed you, I missed you so much.”

Jeno slowly cranes his head up to find your tear-filled gaze, he slowly reaches to cup your face, slowly smiles. It all seems too slow in comparison to the breakdown you’re having. Shaking down to the tips of your fingers and toes, body wracked with sobs as he sits you up and thumbs at your wet cheeks.

“Did you sweetheart? You missed me?” 

“Y-yes!” You cry out watery, throwing your arms around his waist to pull him in close between your thighs. “You left me, you didn’t come. You always pick me up, you’re always there.”

Jeno falls silent, basking in your misery, savoring the wash of success that rains down on him. He’s broken you, dropped each piece of the puzzle only to reassemble it the way he wants. Broken, fixed, he did that, made you his and only his. His hands reach under your top, stroking up your spine and cooing in your ear. “I’m always there, I’ll always be there.”

That’s his promise, that he’ll always be there for you. He’ll always watch out for you, even if it’s not in the traditional romantic way you’d dreamt of as a child. It’s still special, you’re still special to him. And that’s enough, that’s really enough. Because your body calms down, and your nose finds comfort in his clean scent, eyes falling shut as you begin to relax under his touch.

He straightens out to kiss your cheeks, smooth your hair away from your face and take in the sadness streaked across your iris. It’s sadness with a hint of hope, a hint of something he’s never noticed before. You’re finally looking at him like he means something to you, and that makes Jeno’s chest swell. Heart beating rapidly as he leans in to catch your lips and suck on each until they blister under his bites.

He never kisses you softly when you’re alone, and maybe you like that. He’s passionate and rough, takes control of your mouth and tastes through every little crevice inside. He always tastes good and lingers on your tongue for hours throughout the day, but you like that. You need to feel him, smell him, taste him, belong to him. You need him to remind you of who you belong to when you start to stray and seek attention from anyone else.

“Would you hurt me?” You asked him before, and as your eyebrows crush together while kissing him you have to ask again. Because Haechan hurt you, he hurt you so bad. Jisung hurt you, he hurt you more than he’ll ever know. But Jeno.. he can’t hurt you. If he ever hurt you, there’s no way to predict what you’d do..

“Only if you hurt me.” He says in a serious tone, pulling back to look in your eyes. “You won’t, not anymore. You love me.”

“I—I do, I love you.”

It’s final, it’s your love story. Here in room 0423, the school you worked hard to get into, the scholarship you stayed up late day and night putting in extra credit for. All of that led to this moment in time with Jeno. Led you to your destiny, to the man that loves you.

“I know teddy, I’ve always known.” Taking your hands, he kisses down your fingers from the tips, spending extra time on your knuckles, turning them to drag his lips over your palms. “I have plans for us, our future.”

Plans. Future. Whatever that means.. you’re just happy to be here with him. To let him place your hands on his cock, laugh quietly at the way your fingers can barely wrap around him. “You’d never ask me to wear a condom.” He mumbles. He’s proud of that, says it in a boisterous tone.

“Never.” You agree solemnly. 

That’s the best part of this victory. You were never a simple one time fuck, you were always meant to be more. He had to break you down beyond whatever voided space sex could fill, had to ensure your only need in life should ever be him.

It’s easier to lift your legs up and prop your feet on the desk, fully exposing your core. You still whimper and hide your face, still give off a facade of not wanting it. 

He wants you to watch, see every second of him filling you up from inside out. To know that your body belongs to him, that he made you this way. He slaps your thighs to get you to hold yourself open, grabbing onto the base of his cock to stroke. Free hand finding your hair to ball up in his grip and keep your neck bent down. “Want my cock sweetheart?”

Jeno shakes you by the tuft of hair in his hold, nodding your head up and down. “I know the small little dicks you let fuck you weren’t shit.”

The way your hips stutter at that and wet arousal bubbles from your hole makes his cock twitch, inching closer to pick up a dollop of your slick, spreading it up to your clit with the tip of his length.

Thankful for the rubber sole of your shoes keeping your feet in place, you moan, biting it down still out of habit. His cock is nice, thick, covered in large projected veins. The fat pink tip dips in past your clenched hole, forcing a gushing wet sound to echo throughout the classroom. It should be humiliating but your body says otherwise, squeezing out more of your arousal with each teasing prod of his cock.

He plays with you like that for a while, to get you desperate and needy the way he likes. Cockhead probbing in and out enough for the mass of his bulbous tip to disappear inside of you. 

“J-Jeno..”

That’s it, that’s what he likes to hear. That shattered little way you say his name. He bends in again to lick your cheek clean, dragging his lips to your ear. “Don’t take your eyes off my cock, if you do I won’t be nice.”

That’s how he talks to you, none of that lovey dovey shit when you don’t actually want it. He talks to you like you’re dumb, like you need to be told what to do, and sometimes you do. Times like these when you relinquish all control of yourself and let him turn you into a puppet, you need to be told to speak and listen, to watch and enjoy. He’s good at that, at making you feel small when you need to.

Weakly nodding, you scoot back to get a better grip on the backs of your upper thigh, hold yourself fully open for him. It’s commemorative being here like this again, on this desk, watching him begin to slowly push his fat girth in. 

His hands travel down to hold your cunt open, making it stretch even more as you take and take. It always hurts a little bit trying to take all of his length at once, a good hurt, the type the tingles from the end of your spine to your brain. Watching it split you open this up close makes the pain even more surreal, drooling from your mouth like a starved animal. Pussy drooling around his cock the more he buries in, skin pulled taut around the thick shaft.

“Do you see?” Jeno says deep and raspy, pushing in more than half of his mass already. He fingers your clit for a minute, watching your hole convulse around him. “See how damn good you take it baby? You’re so good for me.”

“Unnghhh..” you wanna kick your legs out, throw yourself on him, wrap your arms around his neck. You have to wait, be patient and watch the rest of his size push in. “S-so big.”

“Was made for you.” He says clearly, through the fog clouding your ears. “Was made to fuck you teddy, that’s why I feel so good inside of you. We’re perfect for each other.”

Hearing that makes you brain melt, dropping your head to hang only for Jeno to wrap around your throat and lift your head up, burning you with his fierce gaze.

“When you kissed Haechan,” his hands constraint around your neck, jerking your head to look at him. “Was your body still screaming for me? Is that why you missed me?”

When he says he knows everything about you he really means it. Down to the infestation of emotions crushing your soul everyday. He knows you’ll never be able to recover from what he’s put you through, you’ll always be addicted, crawling like a fiend for the next hit.

“You were thinking of me, that’s it right? With your lips pressed tightly up against his skin.” He says in the most condescending tone, dragging the tips of his fingers up your jaw while keeping a tight clasp around your throat. “Was he even worth the fuck?”

In the end, he wasn’t, your eyes tell Jeno everything he needs to know. The ache and lust, pangs of guilt muddled between. “Did he fuck you like this?” 

The rest of his length sinks in, thrusting in the fat base of his cock ruthlessly, nearly losing your balance if not for the chokehold he has you in. “He’d never fuck you like this, not the way you need. Nobody ever will.”

To drive it home he pulls out completely, making your pussy gape wide open and dribble a wad of wetness out that spills onto the classroom floor. You want to agree with him, tell him that he’s right, that he’s the only one that will ever fulfill your needs now, coughing and blubbering your whimpers as you try to inhale. He fucks into you like a rabid feral wolf, plunging his cock in and out all the way to hear your gurgled scream. It hurts it hurts it hurts, it hurts so fucking good.

The more animalistic he becomes, the more your skin drips with sweat, straining to keep yourself in this position on the desk. Legs more like jelly as your feet begin to slip and your ass slides forward. Jeno only pummels into you faster, determined to rip through your womb, leave a mark on your cervix. 

He grunts wildly, releasing your neck abruptly to wrap around your waist and cup your ass right as you nearly fall off the desk. Each thrust inside feels more erratic than the last, diving his cock in deeper than you’ve ever felt anything reach. He’s relentless, growling through it all, exerting power and anger as he hoists you up by your ass and your legs wrap around his hips limply.

“Fuck my baby into you.” He grunts furiously, throwing your body up and down on his cock. Hand prints bloom on your throat, dropping your head back to let out a howling moan, crying out for only Jeno to save you now. For Jeno to do whatever he wants with you.

Your cries has him laying you back on the desk, needing to see for himself how broken and pathetic you look. Hauling your thighs to wrap around him securely to not lose an inch of warmth blanketing his length. He pounds in balls deep, the clap of his sack meeting your ass resounding throughout the room wet and loud, making your legs tremble with each barreling thrust.

“Yeah? Fuck you full of my kids.” He growls, reaching for your shoulders to really lose it on you. Jerking back up the desk by each violent smack of his hips crashing down on you. It’s the crazed look in his eyes that hurdles you back into the last time, catching the faded sound of your pleading, of your denial. Screaming out no no! Over and over again, only for him to ignore you, have his way and ruin you for anyone else.

“P-please—“ you cry, squeezing around his meaty girth as much as you’re able to, feet dangling bonelessly behind him. “P-please, make me y-yours.”

It could have been this way last time, wanting him to have you instead of begging him to stop. It could have been normal, but the two of you were never destined for that. You were meant to be his as much as he was made to be yours. The wet smack of his balls turns messy, the looming broad frame mounting you losing his composure as you look up at him and more tears trail down your cheeks. 

“You always look prettiest when you cry.” Jeno grits out, falling down against you to slam home a few more jerky thrusts. Cock spurting out enough cum to surely knock you up, pushing it in deep with each digging swivel of his hips and he grabs onto your chin and laps your hot cheek clean of tears.

“Might have to keep getting you pregnant after this..” he mumbles, kissing the swell of your lips. “Fuck your ass in the mean time while you’re knocked up. I know how my teddy likes it..”

It’s hot and sticky between your bodies, nodding slowly at what he says, you suck on his thumb until both of you have calmed and caught your breath.

He’s not just inside of you, he’s seeping from your pores, infiltrating your nervous system, tearing you open from inside out. Each exhausted breath he takes lines up to yours, blinking simultaneously, twitching through the aftershocks of your orgasm at the same time. He’s yours, and you are his. One soul, one heart, one love combining you.

“I love you.” He pants, reaching between your sweaty bodies to smooth his palm over your extended stomach, bulging out with his cock lodged in so deep. “I love us.”

Jeno did more than ruin your life. He destroyed everything you’ve worked hard for. Shattering your hopes and dreams, demolishing any type of independence you strived to achieve, he stripped all those dreams away. 

He’s your new dream. 

“I love you too.” 

He hums, shifting to bracket your head with his biceps, littering gentle kisses across your wet tear-stained cheeks. “I know teddy, I know.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･

There are many ways you envisioned the future. Flying cars, trains that can get you from one side of a state to another at the speed of light, maybe even actual superheroes.

You can even recall sitting side by side with Haechan reading Uzumaki after the fight you had that brought you into each other’s lives in the first place. If you hadn’t wanted to read that damn manga so bad, if you had just shown up at the comic book store any other day. He had sat there with you, thigh pressed to yours, bangs too long and shabby, flicking up with each blink. 

You thought it was nice, to like a boy, to have a crush. It was nice to go home and giggle while brushing your teeth, sent off to dream after your mom tucked you in. Haechan had appeared, the Haechan he’d grow up to be someday. The Haechan you wanted him to be someday, but the thing about dreams is they’re silly. 

“I don’t believe in dreams.” Jeno says behind you, zipping up the back of your dress. “There’s more power in manifestation.”

But dreams are manifestations if you think about it, and while you dreamt of the future with Haechan, you remember it had been just like Uzumaki. 

Spirals had begun to sprout up in the small town around you, driving everyone insane. Infecting each inch of surface and land, and you, you reached for Haechan as he escaped the swarm of spirals. You screamed, shouted, pleaded for him to grab a hold of your hands and save you.

And then you woke up, sitting up in your childhood bed feeling a sense of dread. 

“I manifested you.” Jeno kisses your nape, fixing your hair into place. “My Teddy.”

No. He didn’t. That’s what you want to say, to let him know. He didn’t manifest you, you let him in years ago when Haechan stood there in your dream. Watched you get swallowed up by the spirals, the exact same way he watched Jeno swallow you whole. He did nothing then, he did nothing now, exactly like your dream.

It’s been a week now since you last went to class. A week now since you moved out of your studio apartment, Jeno reminding you that ‘That shithole is no place for my soon-to-be wife to live.’ as he drove you to a new apartment. Furnished, never lived in, a great view of the city, and two bedrooms. 

‘Until I’ve saved up enough for a house, this will be perfect for our little family.’

He kisses your forehead and held you close, admiring the scenery outside of your bedroom window. ‘You’ll never have to worry about anything again.’

Don’t ask questions, don’t worry, just trust him.

Because he knows you’d never handle the truth without a fight. The anonymous threats he holds over Haechan’s father’s head, the thousands of dollars he’s set aside just to get you away from your childhood friend. It’s all been a part of his plan, and thankfully it worked. Of course it did, everything works out for Jeno.

“We won’t stay out too late.” Jeno smiles, reaching over to the passenger seat to tweak your chin. “You look so fucking cute in that costume.”

“I feel fat.” You mumble, poking at your exposed stomach.

“Don’t start.” He tuts, slapping your hand away. “You look like my fluffy cute teddy.”

You really do. Wearing fluffy round ears on your head, fuzzy tan brown bralette and matching shorts with a puffed tail attached. Jeno held up the costume with a huge smile, tossing it your way only a few hours ago and letting you know to get ready for a Halloween party tonight. 

His costume seemed much more simple, nothing more than a Michael Meyers face mask and his usual attire. Tight black tee, fitted dark wash jeans, combat boots, studded leather belt. 

You look really good too Jeno. 

That’s what you wanted to say, especially after the last few weeks of falling asleep in the same bed together. You really really really wanted to say it, to tell him he looks hot, sexy, devastatingly attractive.

You say nothing though, following along with his arm around your shoulder through a throng of partygoers dancing around in their fun costumes. Fairies, iconic characters, Barbies, Bratz Dollz, cops and robbers. It’s fun really, your first Halloween party, your first Halloween party with your boyfriend.

“Water?” He hands you a cup of clear liquid, ignoring the bottles of alcohol lined up atop the kitchen counter of whoevers house this is. 

“Thanks.”

He nods, directing you to a long winding staircase leading you up to an enormous hallway entrance. Rich people of course, luxurious decor, expensive paintings, every inch of this place spotless surely thanks to a 24 hour live-in maid service.

“There’s still one last thing I need to fix for you.”

Jeno walks backward, facing you with that blank faced mask on, arms prominent and flexed in the confines of his tight shirt. “That’s why we’re here Teddy.”

What could that even mean? One last thing to fix for you. Nothing can be fixed anymore.

“Come here baby.” It’s dark up here, darker in the room he tugs you inside of, immediately pinning your body to the wall, digging his fingers into your waist. “How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you?” He grunts, turning you around to press your breasts to the wall, stroking your hair aside to kiss your nape and toy with the leather choker there.

He says that offhandedly sometimes while you’re lazing around in bed after waking up. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of you, he has no idea how he’ll manage once you give birth.

That’s why you’re here, surprised he even bothered to find a room to hide you away in. Among the many things Jeno likes, he loves to show you off, love for everyone to know you are his.

He doesn’t waste time to strip your panties off, dropping them to your ankles to squeeze your ass with his heavy thick palms. Holding you apart to watch your wrinkled rim flinch and tighten up. “Not tonight sweetheart. Gotta fuck your pretty pussy, you know that. Have to make sure your womb stays full.” 

He still runs a thumb across your rim, just to watch your hips jut back, so needy.

“Stay still okay?” Jeno says sweetly, pointing to the door. “And don’t look away.”

He steps back for a minute, letting the cool air circulating around the room roll shivers up your back, chewing on your lip in anticipation.

You think you hear a click, something else familiar that you can’t exactly put your finger on before the warmth of his body returns and presses against you. 

“Now where were we? My poor teddy, already making a mess.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, hand slipping between your thighs to rub the wetness around that's smeared down. “Should I fuck you now? Make my teddy feel real good?”

“Y-yes..” you whine, keeping your gaze locked on the door like he commanded. It’s not good to disobey Jeno, and you don’t intend to.

“Beg for it better than that..” the weight of his size smacks against your ass, hot and heavy. Letting you know he’s fully hard and ready to fuck. “Come on.”

“Please Jeno.. wanna feel f-full..” you do your best to sound sweet, docile and small. Anything to not spend another minute without him inside of you. 

“Is that all I am to you? A big cock to get yourself off on? Huh?” He seeps between your thighs, gripping onto your hips firmly. Rocking his hips forward, the clap of his skin hitting the perk of your ass resounds. Your skin sticky from body shimmer and lotion, moistening up as he ruts between your thighs.

“N-no.. love you, love your cock too.” You whimper, having to bite down on your hand to not scream when he slaps your hip and lets out a deep pleased grunt. 

“That’s what I like to hear sweetheart.” Without bothering to warn you, he pushes in, pausing a little more than halfway only to savor the wet trickle of arousal drenching his length. “Fuck, that’s how much you love my cock? Dripping this fucking much already.”

“Yesyesyes!” You nod into your hand, bumping your head against the wall. Biting down harder on your fingers as impending screams rise up your throat. Muffling the one that breaks free when he pushes into the hilt.

Jeno’s cock always feels like the first time everytime, so big and fucking thick. Penetrating deep in ways that don’t even seem humanly possible. He always makes you cum, makes you want to go again even when your body needs a break. 

“L-love h-how full you m-make me!” You blabber, reaching to grab onto the wall as he builds up speed and starts to thrust faster. Palms slide up your waist to fuck you the way he wants, pulling out to the tip each time and diving the entirety of his length right back in to really make you feel and take every inch. 

“You love it?! You love me?” He growls, sliding one hand lower to find your clit before you’re able to respond. He knows you’ll choke on your next words, making your pussy gush out more around him as he rams up and fucks you vigorously. “Answer me!”

“Yes yes! I love you!” You wail, bounced up and down fiercely. The angle placing the tip of his cock right under your navel. “Ah! Ah f-fuck!”

“Yeah, keep fucking saying that sweetheart.” He roars, biting at your shoulder, swiping your clit side to side. Thin fingers play you like a fiddle, stroking and pinching your clit until you’re clenching around him. Toes pointed off the ground, neck tossed back in ecstasy. 

Jeno reaches so deep, he fills you up so so good, he stretches you open in a way you’ve become addicted to. Clawing at the wall on the brink of your orgasm, chanting repetitive begging between your moans. He eats it all up, groans against your skin, shoving his mask off as the door opens.

“That’s it Teddy,” fisting your hair, he shoves your cheek against the wall, maneuvering your face toward the stream of light that enters. “Milking my cock so fucking good.”

Haechan’s eyes meet yours, wide and bewildered, quickly scanning from Jeno back to you. “Cum for me, let him see how you really take it baby. Show that bitch who you fucking love.”

It hurts. The pleasure between your thighs taking over your lower half as your heart pinches and aches, the two powerful emotions crashing head to head. And Jeno thrusts in hard, swiping his fingers rapidly along the sides of your clit until you’re crying out, slapping the wall with a shout.

“That’s my girl, that’s my fucking girl.” He rasps behind you, cupping your face to bite down on your jaw. Through your dazed euphoria you think that’s your broken voice spewing out a song of IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, eyes rolled back as the cool chill washes away from your skin with an overwhelming wave of heat. 

Jeno sport’s the biggest and most wicked smile, watching Haechan’s face fall. The last thing his old best friend could snatch away from his life, successfully crushing the relationship you ever had with him. He watches his old friend back away disgusted, and he cums, filling you with a hot stream of white, exclaiming how much he loves you.

“Love you so much baby,” he’s never sounded so honest, so enthralled and at ease. Drawing your waist back with his ripped arms, wrapping a safe hold around you to keep your limbless body against his. “Love you enough to give you my baby.”

His palms glide down, ending in their new favorite spot right beneath your navel. Kissing up your neck softly, murmuring about the future. “You’ll never be able to get rid of me now Teddy. We’re one now, you and I.”

There’s a hint of threat laced in his words, gently petting the area where he’s imagined a small bump will begin to show soon. 

They day you met Haechan and lost him broke your heart. The day you met Jeno turned your life upside down, discovered the shattered pieces and put them back together again, finally showing you what you’ve always secretly wished for.

“I love you Jeno.”

“I know.”

[the-original-skipps]

|| When you carry them bridal style. || Wind Breaker Reactions ||

just a cute idea that popped up hehe i have so many wips i have to finish ahhh guys pls give me strength

CW: slight angst for suo and nirei

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Nirei Akihito. Umemiya Hajime. Kaji Ren. Togame Jo.

❥ Sakura was confused when you suddenly crouched, but then that confusion quickly turned into surprise when you lifted with up. He could feel his heart leaping out of chest, no one has ever carried him before - much less like this! As much as he wants to cover his vibrant red face, he immediately wrapped his arms around your neck, afraid that you'd suddenly drop him. He struggles to find the words to express his feelings, only coming out as random stutters and yelling. You giggle at his reaction, he's just too adorable. You tell him that he's your little princess, which has him sputtering like a fish out of water. He demands you let him down but you refuse, only if he says please.

"P-Put me down! Dammit, do I really have to say it?!.....P-Please."

❥ Suo let's out a simple "wow" as you lift him up bridal style. He calmly wraps his arms around your neck, not the slightest bit worried that you'll drop him. Suo is very light, just like you expected him to be which brings a frown to your face. He's smiling and just about to tease you, until he sees the look on your face and questions you what's wrong. You tell him that he's very light, in which he replies laughing that it must be because his diet is working. Which makes you frown even deeper, you tell him you're worried and that he should eat more. Suo is slightly taken aback but he's back to smiling-placing a loving hand on your cheek, touched that you're worried about him.

"I'll eat, but only if you'll feed me～"

❥ Nirei squeaks, instantly clinging onto you as he looks at you with great surprise and embarrassment. He buries his face in your neck, as his cheeks flush red - his heart beating wildly in his chest. He can't deny the flutter he felt at being so affectionately held by you. Then he starts wondering if he can carry you like this too, what if he couldn't? The thought has him feeling self-conscious but tries to dismiss those thoughts away. He'll just have to get stronger, train more with Sakura and Suo. He snaps out of his thoughts when you call his name, looking at him with worry. Nirei responds with a bright grin, thanking you for carrying him and that he'll be sure to return the favor.

"Next time, let me carry you too!"

❥ Umemiya lets out a shout of surprise and excitement as he feels his body getting lifted up. No one ever heeded his request of wanting to be carried, especially Kotoha. He's quick to wrap his strong arms around your neck, nuzzling his face to your neck - complimenting you on how strong you are. His excitement is so adorable that a smile stretches on your face, he really reminds you of a golden retriever. Afterwards, he eagerly asks you if you could carry him around today in which you reply that you'll try. You're not sure how long you could go on carrying him, he is made up of pure muscle but you'll try just to see his bright smile on his face.

"Oh oh, let's go to the bakery next!. My treat!"

❥ Kaji is wary to say this least, he's always on guard on whether or not you'll pull some kind of prank on him. So you had to wait for just the right moment to suddenly pick him up. Of course, his first instinct is to yell and question your actions, all with a blush on his face. Luckily, Kaji wasn't eating his lollipop because he would have dropped it instantly. You could only laugh as he struggles with the new position he has in your arms. Even going as far into teasing him at how light he is which has him turning a darker shade of red. Eventually, he gives up the struggle and obediently lays still in your arms with a pout on his face. Luckily for him, Kusumi isn't here or else he'll gain some blackmail material.

"H-Hey! You better not d-drop me!"

❥ Togame whistles out, impressed that you were actually able to pick him up nonetheless carry him in your arms. All without breaking a sweat, wow - you might even be stronger than him. He calmly praises you for your strength, telling you how cool you are at being able to do this. He makes himself comfortable, leaning his head against your shoulder. Your arms holding him tightly, your scent enveloping him. He swears he could just fall asleep like this. You smile in response, happy at his reaction - it's almost as if you're carrying a giant teddy bear. Togame quietly lets you know that it's okay to let him down if you're tired but you quickly refuse. Togame lets out a chuckle and smiles, well he could get used to this.

"Mhmm, you're so strong..."

[thefoxandthepenguine]

Lost star (Pt. 1)

Wanda Maximoff x Guitarist!Fem!Reader

Summary: AU. You never had the courage or opportunity to tell Wanda you were the masked YouTuber she admired since high school when you met her in college. What will happen when you meet her again years later, as the teacher of her twins?

Warnings: Slow burn, fluff (for now?), angst

Word count: 2.4k

a/n: Well, well, well- guess who's back? I know I've been gone for so so long and most of you probably already forgot me :'( But I've had this idea for a very long time and couldn't resist the temptation and urge to put it down in words. I hope y'all enjoy this story and please tell me what you think about this by commenting, reblogging or leaving me an ask. Good reading :)

(GIF found online. I don’t own this gif.)

Part 1

“Romanoff! You left your panties in my room. Again!”

With a playful sigh, you swung open the door and tossed the red lace panties toward the redhead, who turned at the sound of your voice. The panties landed on her face, and you huffed with mock irritation.

“And don’t you ever dare to steal my under-”

Suddenly, you faltered, swallowing your words as the person in front of you pulled the panties away, revealing herself to you.

Holy shit.

You cursed yourself for acting so impulsively. 

This person, whoever she was, was most definitely not Natasha Romanoff.

“I-” the girl shifted her gaze between the panties pinched in her fingers and you, her brows furrowed in confusion as she spoke. “Uh- wrong person?”

What on earth were you thinking Y/N? Throwing panties on a stranger’s face?

“Oh gosh,” you gasped, too shocked to stop yourself from rambling. “I’m so sorry- I shouldn’t have- I didn’t know- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I- I thought you were Nat 'cause she told me she’d be in her room and her roommate wouldn’t be around. I really am so-”

Much to your surprise, the girl giggled softly before dropping Natasha’s panties into her laundry basket. “Relax. No need to keep apologizing,” she said, seeming to be amused by your flustered state. “By the way, I’m Wanda. Natasha’s roommate.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, calming down enough to take in the person standing across from you. That’s when you breath hitched—

She was stunning. 

You were captivated by the vivid shade of emerald in her eyes, so vibrant and expressive under the sunlight streaming through the window. Her hair, not as light as Natasha’s now that you took a closer look, cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, perfectly framing her face.

“And you are?”

Wanda’s voice brought you back, and you noticed her head tilted slightly, curiosity in her eyes.

Oh no.

You curse yourself again under your breath. 

“Y/N. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m an old friend of Natasha.”

“Did you come here to find Nat?” Wanda asked, sitting on her bed. You hesitated for a brief second where you should sit, and finally decided to settle on the edge of Natasha’s bed, sitting across the room from Wanda.

You were not sure if she wanted you to sit near her after what just happened.

“Yeah…we’re planning to have dinner together,” you nodded, offering a small smile.

“Something’s up with their project, so Nat went to the library with her group mates,” Wanda explained, crossing her legs as she shifted to find a more comfortable position on her bed. “But I think she’ll be back soon.”

“Oh,” you said as you rose from the bed and gestured towards the door. “I can wait for her out-”

“It's okay! You can stay here,” Wanda interjected quickly, waving her hand reassuringly.

“You sure?” you asked, pausing with one foot still on the floor, a hesitant expression on your face.

“Mm-hmm.” 

You nodded, smiled appreciatively, and returned to your spot on the bed.

Silence soon settled in. Occasionally, you and Wanda would meet each other's gaze in the air, but only to look away the next moment. This awkward tension lingered for a minute or two until you began to fidget with the sheets self-consciously, feeling the discomfort of the silence. You scanned the room desperately for something, anything, to spark a conversation, hoping to ease the tension between you two.

Then, something leaning against the wall caught your eye.

“You play guitar?” you asked, nodding towards the instrument in the corner of Wanda's side of the room.

“Oh, that!” Wanda followed your gaze and waved her hand dismissively. “I wish I knew how to play. I’m just learning.”

“That’s cool!” you said, genuinely intrigued now. “Any songs you’re working on?”

“Yeah, ‘How deep is your love’!” Wanda exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she mentioned the song.

“Great choice! It’s a classic,” you replied with a grin, feeling an unexpected surge of happiness at discovering your shared love for the same song. 

“Argh but I’m terrible at it,” Wanda huffed in frustration, her nose scrunching slightly as she likely recalled her practice sessions. “I can never get the barre chord right.”

“Do you have a teacher, or are you learning online?” you asked, leaning forward unconsciously as the conversation carried on.

“Oh, I’m learning online. Come here, let me show you!” She patted the space next to her on the bed, inviting you to sit beside her. As you made your way across the room, Wanda shifted onto her knees and crawled across the bed to reach for her laptop on the nightstand.

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she opened a webpage and positioned the screen between the two of you. "I’ve been following this tutorial guide by a YouTuber. Have you ever watched her videos? You have to check her out if you haven’t. She’s such an amazing guitarist!"

You almost choked in surprise the moment you recognized your own video playing. It showed a person playing the guitar and singing "How Deep Is Your Love," with tabs and chords displayed at the bottom. You could not see her face as the highest part visible was her chin.

But you knew damn right who this girl was in the video.

This was literally your channel.

"I- you like this YouTuber?" you asked, struggling to suppress an amused smile as you turned to face Wanda. Your heart raced, a mixture of pride and disbelief swelling inside you.

“Like? I’m her biggest fan! She’s amazing!” Wanda exclaimed, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “I’ve been following her for years! She posts tons of guitar covers, and every time she includes tutorials with free tabs. Do you know how hard it is to find good free tabs online?”

Of course you knew how difficult it was. That was why you started posting the tabs for free on your channel after listening to songs and music you liked.

Wanda carried on, her excitement contagious. And you were surprised to find that she was so talkative when talking about-

You.

“And you know what? She has the best taste in music! It’s like she always posts songs that I love! But it’s such a pity she never shows her face in the videos. I wish I could see what she looks like!” Wanda pouted at the thought of the face reveal but still looked radiant this whole time.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as Wanda continued to shower compliments on you, unaware that you were the person she had been talking about this whole time. 

You had never met any of your followers, or fans, in real life. Few people knew you were the one running this channel, except for your family and a few close friends. Yes, you had started the channel for a few years and you had had a decent number of followers that you were happy with. But hell, you had never imagined you would one day meet someone who claimed to be your fan. 

You got a fan?

You still couldn’t believe it.

Should you tell her?

She seemed to be a big fan of yours and really loved your music. That would make her happy, right? Knowing the YouTuber that she loved was sitting right next to her.

But then you hesitated, unsure if you should reveal that the person who had just tossed panties onto her face was the same person she had admired so much for so long.

What if you ruined her imagination of this great guitarist?

That’s also why you chose not to reveal your face in the first place. You wanted people to listen to your music, not judged it based on how you looked or who you were.

Or- if you were being honest-

You were afraid they wouldn’t like your music as much if they figured out who you really were.

The real you.

Just when you were struggling with your options, you heard the door fling open and a familiar voice reached your ears. “God, Wanda, I can’t believe I forgot my USB in-”

The three of you froze, exchanging glances.

“Y/N! You’re here!” Natasha seemed a bit surprised to see you sitting side by side with Wanda.

You rolled your eyes. Based on how well you knew Natasha, you were pretty sure she had forgotten your dinner plan. “We have dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh right! I’m sorry, dear, I forgot. Let me fix my project first and I’ll be right back.” Natasha mumbled something about her project as she rummaged through her table for the USB.

USB in hand, Natasha turned around with a smirk, her eyes twinkling with mischief. She leaned slightly against the table, crossing one arm over her chest while holding the USB up with the other. “Wanda, already forcing Y/N to watch your favorite YouTube channel?” she asked, her gaze shifting between the two of you with keen interest.

Wanda's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she looked up at Natasha, her expression a mix of mild embarrassment and amusement. “Not forcing! I’m just introducing her to it!” she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced over at you, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her laptop.

“Hmm,” Natasha raised an eyebrow and shrugged before continuing, “You know, it’s nice you two finally met. I’ve been dying to introduce you to each other for so long!” Natasha said as she walked towards the door, the smirk still firmly in place. “Y/N, have you told Wanda already?”

“Tell me what?” Wanda snapped her head and looked at you curiously.

“Uh- I-” you stuttered, feeling the heat creeping up to your face again. Your mind raced, trying to make the right decision, but the intensity of Wanda’s gaze made it difficult to think straight.

“No way! You haven’t told her yet? Y/N is-”

You glared at Natasha, silently pleading with her to stop. She paused halfway through her sentence, throwing you a confused look before changing what she was going to spill. “- an excellent guitar player. She plays exactly as good as that YouTuber you like.”

Well, even if Wanda had to know, you should be the one telling her directly, not from any other’s mouth.

Natasha winked with a smug expression at you before you turned around to see Wanda’s eyes widen in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “Seriously?”

“She’s just exaggerating,” you tried to downplay it, your hands fluttering nervously.

Wanda gasped, a mix of surprise and admiration in her voice. “Whoa that’s so cool! Can you actually play that song?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of your neck.

“Oh my God!” Wanda rolled off her bed to grab the guitar and handed it to you. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you play it for me? I really love that song.”

“Well-” you hesitated, feeling a bit embarrassed as all eyes were on you.

“Please?” Wanda added, her eyes wide and hopeful.

How could you say “no” to those puppy dog eyes silently begging you? Your heart melted at her earnest expression.

“Uh- sure,” you agreed, taking the guitar from her. 

You didn’t miss her genuine grin as you shifted to face her on the bed, holding the guitar on your lap. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and she leaned forward slightly, her entire demeanor radiating excitement. The way she looked at you, full of eager curiosity, made your heart race even faster.

Though you felt a bit flustered playing in front of someone at such close proximity, the weight of the guitar in your hands was familiar and comforting. As you strummed the strings, the music notes seemed to soothe your nerves.

It all felt natural to you.

“Whoa-” Wanda exclaimed, momentarily speechless as you played the final note. When she lifted her gaze from your hands to meet your eyes, you could tell something had changed in the way she looked at you. “I can’t believe this! You play exactly like her after watching the video just once.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled sheepishly.

Well after all, you wrote that arrangement.

It was then you looked around the room and noticed Natasha was long gone. Only you and Wanda were left alone.

“That was- whoa!” Wanda mumbled, looking down at her hands on her lap. “I wish I could play like you. But my hand…I think I could never figure out the barre chord.”

“Your hand actually seems pretty big, maybe bigger than mine,” you said, opening your palm and glancing at it. When you looked up, you saw Wanda holding her hand up towards you, and you instinctively placed your hand against hers. “See? Yours is bigger than mine. You can definitely do this.”

“You think?” Wanda asked, her voice tinged with doubt as she glanced at her hand.

“Do you want to give it a try? Maybe I can help,” you suggested, adjusting the guitar on your lap and offering it to her.

“Is that okay?” Wanda’s fingers hovered uncertainly over the strings.

“Of course!” you replied with a reassuring smile.

You handed the guitar back to Wanda and watched as she placed her fingers on the neck, trying to play the B minor chord. She got the notes right, but the sound came out a bit muffled and unclear, with a faint buzz.

“Urgh!” Wanda groaned, her brows knitting together. “See? I can never get it right.”

“Alright, let’s see-” you said, moving closer to her and pointing at her fingers. “Do you mind if I adjust your fingers a bit?”

“Go ahead.” Wanda nodded eagerly.

“You need to move your index finger closer to the fret, like this. And maybe turn it slightly so your bone presses on the neck,” you explained, gently adjusting her finger. “Then bend your middle and ring fingers a bit more so they don’t touch the strings below.”

You checked her fingers one last time, making sure they were in the right position. “There you go. Try it again.” You nodded encouragingly at Wanda.

When her right hand strummed the strings, the chord rang out with a clean, crisp sound. You immediately smiled. “See? You’ve got this!”

Wanda’s eyes widened with disbelief, and she gasped slightly. “I did it! I can play the chord! Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” you grinned, feeling the earlier awkwardness dissolve.

[arminsumi]

🔞 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐨-𝐁𝐞 𝐄𝐱-𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 | 𝟐

<- 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯.

𝟑.𝟔𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 / 𝟕 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / (Geto Suguru)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : your ex-boyfriend claims he isn't a playboy anymore, but is he being genuine? Another date with him leaves you a mess, and you end up asking his best friend out for coffee.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst, pining, drama, smut (cr**mpies, light degradation, name calling (sl*t and wh*re), c*nnilingus, bl*wjob in the backseat/risky), implied sexual relationship with Suguru

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞 : Heaven and Back | Often | Wine Pon You | New Rules

You walk out of your bedroom gussied up, lips painted in a very specific shade of red.

And Shoko, laid on the couch tiredly, gapes in disbelief at you.

"Oh my god." she groans, "Please don't tell me you're going on another date with that playboy."

You act dumb, nervously touching your neck as you style your hair in the mirror some more.

"What?"

"You're wearing the Gojo Satoru lipstick."

You continue acting, "This isn't the 'Gojo Satoru' lipstick, I love this lipstick! I always wear this shade!"

She looks at you, dumbfounded by your acting, nearly laughing.

"No, that's the Gojo Satoru lipstick. I can distinctly recall his words; "That's my baby's lipstick on me." and how you giggled on his shoulder."

"Shoko, that was five years ago." you say, "It's fine. I promised him only one more date. He needs closure."

"He's had five years of closure." Shoko replies, "Angel, you're too good for him."

"He's changed!" you insist.

"No, he hasn't; I saw that look in his eyes when I saw you two on the couch. He's still a playboy, and he'll prove it to you soon enough." she says.

"I have faith in him." you say.

"How many times have I heard that?" she shakes her head, getting ready to have a smoke. "You know, Gojo Satoru has always gotten what he wants. That's why he's so fascinated by the new you; you're not giving yourself to him like you did back then."

"I have faith in him!" you emphasize. "God, just tell me I look good."

"..."

"Please. I'm nervous. He's high-class, you know. I feel like I'm going on a date with the president of the world."

Shoko sighs and heads towards the balcony to smoke.

"You look too good." she says earnestly. "He was right about that shade of lipstick on you."

Her compliment makes you light up significantly.

You fuss as you wait. Since Shoko asks, you tell her; "He ordered for someone to chauffeur me."

"Oh my god." she groans, "He's really buttering you up."

"But isn't it such a gentleman move!"

"... more like a rich boy flex." she mutters under her breath, stubbing out the end of her cigarette.

"Okay. I've got to go. See you later... um, unless I overnight by him, of course." you giggle dreamily.

"Condoms." Shoko says simply.

"He's got some."

"Bring your own, always."

"But I'm on birth control, and we've already — " you begin.

Shoko cuts you off, "I know, but have you ever heard about the whole "creampies make you fall in love" thing?"

"What?" you look dumbly. "Isn't that a myth?"

"No. Coming inside is affectionate. You're going to feel connected to him and then he'll dip when you become "too serious" for him. Just keep him at bay."

You give her advice consideration, and nod. "Okay, alright. I won't let him do it inside."

*****

While being chauffeured, you rehearse in your head how to greet your ex-boyfriend — but it doesn't help, because as soon as you're actually in his presence again, your mind goes blank and you start nervously touching at your neck and giggling to cope with his charm.

From the moment Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the restaurant, you feel like a VIP. It's such a familiar feeling; in your early twenties, when you and him dated, he showed you what it meant to be really rich.

And he was excited to shower you in lavish treatment, he loved to see you decorated in his diamonds and to see your bright smile on foreign beaches.

The effect he has on you is even noticed by the waiter, who tends to your secluded table on the rooftop. You and Satoru feel like you're in your own bubble.

"I'm serious." he says honestly, looking into your eyes.

"... you break my heart, then disappear for five years, and then come back asking for marriage." you shake your head, "Doesn't that sound insane to you? Can't you understand why I'm rejecting you?"

"I've changed."

You hum skeptically.

"Really." he tilts his head, he flicks his brow giving his expression that sad little look that really sells it for you.

"If we got married, how long would it last?"

"What do you mean? We'd be wed 'till we're dead." he grins.

You shake your head and smile at him, poking at your plate. A long silence passes.

"... let me think about it."

"... okay." his spirits lift. "But don't make me wait too long; I'm impatient." he teases.

"Too bad. I'm gonna take my time." you sass, biting a piece of meat off your fork to make a statement.

He grins at you.

*****

Food all eaten, dessert long gone. The night air feels good. Not like old times, but new times with an old lover. He knows he messed up, right? So why hasn't he apologized yet? Maybe, you theorize to yourself to justify him, maybe he's still thinking up an apology.

He stares at you from across the table, eyes hungry like a starved wolf.

"You look so good tonight." he says for the third time.

You giggle in response, "Stop..."

"I swear that shade of lipstick looks familiar." he teases, leaning over the table.

You can smell his cologne, and it entrances your heart.

"... is it?" you ask softly, pretending like you don't know what he's talking about.

He knows you're pretending, he thinks it's cute.

"You think it would look good on me too?" he asks.

You shrug like a ditzy princess, "I dunno. Wanna find out...?"

He's so quick to call the waiter for the bill, like there's a pressing issue that needs his attention.

But the only pressing issue is his hard-on pressing hot against his thigh.

*****

Giving his cock all your attention in the backseat of the car, Satoru forces his moans down so that his poor chauffeur doesn't hear through the screen divider.

You stifle a slurping sound, sliding off the tip of his cock slowly, and it makes him shudder hard. He closes his eyes, like that helps any, and tries to keep from cumming in your mouth right there.

Gojo knows your lipstick stains are going all over his cock, it drives him crazy.

Before he cums, you pull off and he mutters a small "Just you wait..." under his breath that makes you smile wide.

****

Kissy marks lead up his abs. Of course, he wants to take a photo — to preserve the memory.

"Hand here, baby. Good girl." he instructs, and in his voice right then you can hear how mature he is now, in comparison to the squeakier voice he had when you two first met.

He's not a boy anymore, he's a man. But very far from being your man, which he's trying to change.

"Lay back." he murmurs. "Spread your legs. Wider. Good girl."

Without saying a thing about it, he noses in between your thighs and shows you heaven is real, and it exists on Gojo Satoru's tongue.

"Fuck!" you clamp your thighs around his head, making him hum while sliding his tongue inside.

When you two first dated, he wasn't inexperienced — but he didn't quite know how to eat a woman out.

Five years is a long time to practice, and he definitely did. You can feel his sloped nose nudging against your clit as he kisses and sucks, sometimes nibbling softly with his teeth at your puffy lips.

Making you cum on his tongue is almost too easy for Satoru, he nearly laughs as he pulls away and licks your slick off his lips. He thinks it's a pity that he's at the wrong angle to see your eyes rolling back. But at least he sees how you throw your head back for him, and how you sound for him — like a cat, he loves it.

"Nice and messy for me now, huh?" he hums, connecting his body with yours as he crawls upwards and devours your lips.

"Mhm!" you whine, still unsteady from your orgasm, breathing frantically. "Satoru, I need you in me right now."

"Aw, but I was gonna — "

"Nowww!" you beg.

He sighs, "Can't say no to that face."

You watch intently, licking your lips, as he whips his belt off and takes his cock out. It's red from the tip down to the middle, where that familiar thick vein always catches your attention.

By your request, even though it confuses him, he squeezes his cock into a condom.

"What do you need, baby?" he asks, lowering his cock onto your pussy and rubbing it between your slicked lips.

You squeal as he flicks at your clit, then pinches your folds around his cock, making you realize his size in comparison to little you.

"I need you."

"Need me how?"

"Satoru!" you hiss annoyedly.

"I don't want to have to tease you, baby just say it."

"I want your cock inside me."

"Not nearly slutty enough." he shakes his head, drawing his cock back and forth, rubbing over your soft pussy. "You said to me in the car that you were a total, fucking slut for me, didn't you say that? Or am I imagining things?"

You start babbling, "Yeah! I'm a slut for you, I want it so bad!" you whine, "C'mon fuck me stupid!"

"That's better." he grins.

Just like how he always does, he presses his tip inside you so politely but then pushes it in too deep, making you curl like you're about to cum.

Satoru's not one to go slow for long, he'd rather pound into you hard and fast right away, to bring out that slut in you as quick as he can. Because right now, you're not nearly slutty enough for him, as he said — and he needs to see that side of you.

"Baby, get loud for me, come on." he grunts, shoving himself as deep as he can, reaching the spot that you know isn't the G-spot or your cervix, but something in-between.

"Fuck!" you almost cry, "That's so good, fuck me harder please!"

He grins, cheeky fangs on display, and goes harder until you can hardly handle it. You don't care if it hurts just a little bit, because you want to know that every inch of your ex's cock is inside you. Not just eight, eight and a half — honestly, he doesn't know where you put all of that, but he delights in watching it disappear into your hole.

"Look at you." he purrs, "How deep are you trying to suck me?"

It feels like he's going to split you in two. Sweat pours out of the both of you, bodies getting slippery.

As Satoru continues pumping his cock back and forth, in and out of you, he starts furrowing his brows together in focus — playful edge dulling as it always does when it feels good good.

"That's it, you fucking take it." he grunts, "Good girl, you're a good little slut for me huh?"

"Yeahhh I'm a good little slut for you!"

"Let me take the condom off, baby."

You know you're gonna hear it from Shoko if she knows, but in the moment you're too drunk on sex to care, and even reach back to strip the condom off your ex's cock yourself as he watches with a smirk.

"Good girl. Now flip on your side, like this." he instructs.

He slides back inside slowly, filling you inch by inch with a low groan — like he's falling in love.

And the sounds he makes as his orgasm builds up make you want to cum again, too. Each time he hits that strange spot between your G-spot and cervix, your visions sparks a little.

Hard strokes tip you over, and you lay there letting Satoru degrade you and call you a filthy slut. You'd be his anything as long as it felt this good.

"I'm so close." he warns, trying to savor the buildup.

"Cum inside me." you mewl, "Please."

"Yeahhh I'm gonna — fuck. Take my cum, be a good girl."

The broken moan he lets out as he creampies you is almost obscene. Satoru slows his thrusts as he shoots everything he has into you.

His jaw slacks, and he groans, "... prettiest little slut, aren't you? So filthy and pretty."

"I'm gonna cum againnn..." you whine, reaching down to rub frantically on your sensitive clit.

He watches you through the haze of his post-orgasm, slowly grinding his cock inside to get you there.

"Good girl."

"C-call me a slut again, please."

He laughs naughtily, "Fucking slut. Come on, finish on me. Make that cute face again, 'cute lil' whore."

Satoru always surprises you during sex in some way, this time you're surprised when he caresses your cheek as you cum. You shake and spasm, feeling each shock of your orgasm.

Panting and coming down from your high, Satoru cracks a smile.

"You were so loud." he laughs.

Reality hits you, "Oh my god, I didn't know I liked being called a slut so much!" you cover your face embarrassedly.

He rings out with laughter.

*****

After sex. What happens after sex? He's a gentleman, and that makes you tear up — not because he's a gentleman, but because he never used to be quite like this.

No, he never used to be quite like this. Even kissing you afterwards? Why was it, you wonder, that back then he couldn't love you as deeply as now, when you needed it most?

"What's wrong?" he asks.

You try to stop your crying, but it gets worse.

"Satoru." you say, sniffling, eyes pointed downwards, "I know it's been five years, but I'm still hurt."

He doesn't reply. Just awkwardly wrings his hands and sits at the edge of the bed, soft duvet covering his lap.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't really help."

"Then what can I do?"

"I don't know." you sniffle, "Go back in time and love me. You know, I needed your love back then more than I do now." you admit to both him and yourself.

Satoru purses his lips, thinking before he speaks — but then he ends up not replying at all.

Instead, he goes to wipe your tears. Something he always did towards the end of your relationship, because you were always crying.

"I should go home."

He jolts a little. "Oh. I thought you were gonna stay the night?" he croaks. Inside, he's dreading sleeping alone again.

"No." you shake your head. "I've got to stop fooling myself. We're not getting back together, you're not more than a playboy, we're not getting married — and sex with you is better than with anyone else, but a relationship can't bank on that, Satoru."

"I'm being genuine. I told you earlier that I was."

"How can I trust you?" you ask.

"Playboys don't propose marriage." he replies.

"But you're just joking about that!"

"I'm not!" he stresses, "The last time you loved me, I was just a boy. I'm a man now and I know what I want." he says roughly.

You both go silent. Then he starts speaking again, voice softer than before.

"I love you more every time I see you."

You don't say anything back. He looks stricken and confused.

"I'm gonna go." you say.

He purses his lips tightly, looking frustrated that he can't get through to you.

"I'll take you home." he says quietly.

*****

Shoko is just digging around in the freezer for therapeutic ice cream when you come into the entry way.

"You look dreadful."

"Thanks."

"Bad date?"

"The worst..."

"Still love him?"

"... yeah."

"Marriage?"

"I'm in love, not stupid." you reply.

Shoko chuckles. "Come on. Let's catch up on that series. I'm not on-call." she cheers for herself. "We can binge the whole thing."

"Shoko, where would I be without you?" you sigh appreciatively, flopping on the couch next to her, mascara smudged off and all.

"Staying the night with a playboy, probably."

"Can't argue that." you sigh, "Shoko, I'm so dumb for him, what do I do?"

"Wait. Strike at the right moment."

"I'm not a cobra."

"Buy a cobra. Let it loose on him."

"Your humor is so dark, Shoko. I love you."

"Love you more."

*****

Meanwhile, Satoru is with Suguru; who is listening to his sulking best friend.

"I'm so dumb for her. What do I do?" he groans, "Shoko's probably poisoning her against me as we speak."

Suguru thinks deeply. "Shoko..."

"I know!" Satoru nearly starts crying again. He's being so dramatic, it's hard to take him seriously. But Satoru almost never cries. So Suguru seriously thinks about solutions to his problems.

"Shoko!" Suguru realizes.

"I knowww!"

"No, Satoru, Shoko!" Suguru emphasizes, like he's just made a breakthrough, "Shoko is the answer to all your problems!"

"Ew. I'd never date Shoko."

"You're so dense. I'm not suggesting that. Shoko's her best friend, and she listens to whatever she says, like you listen to me."

"You have a point... I'm listening."

"See?" Suguru chuckles, "Now, here's what I think you should do..."

*****

"You want me to talk to Suguru?" you shake your head. "How would that help?"

"He's his best friend. If you want to find out if Satoru's no-good, you go to the best friend."

"Suguru would rather die than expose Satoru. They're not like regular best friends, they're soulmate best friends." you say, nervously touching at your neck.

Shoko shakes her head. "Are you scared to talk to Suguru or something? What actually happened between you two back then? You never told me."

You go silent and wide-eyed. Shoko's jaw drops open.

"No way. Holy shit. Oh my god. You and him...?!"

"... it was just once."

"Holy shit! Was this before, after or during you and Satoru together?"

"I'm loyal as a dog! It was after... I was feeling, um, revengeful, and Suguru was feeling lonely one night... so..."

"Suguru actually did that?! Did Satoru find out?"

"We promised to never talk about it again. You know... Suguru was so nice about it. I remember he laid me down and said "Don't worry, just cum on my tongue" or something. Ugh, he was so hot. He fucked the life out of me — I could barely fucking see straight after."

"Too much information!" Shoko plugs her ears.

You look up at the ceiling dreamily. "He's thicker than Satoru."

"My best friend is a slut!" Shoko cries.

"I am!" you cry back dramatically.

The two of you burst out laughing wickedly.

"To sluts!" Shoko toasts with an ice cream spoon.

You toast with her, "To sluts! The sluttier the better!"

"Are you gonna talk to Suguru, then? Or are you scared of your inner slut coming out?" Shoko asks.

"I'll do it. It'll be fine. I'm sure Suguru doesn't look as good in real life as he does in photos..." you reply.

You exchange a look with her. Immediately, the two of you stalk Suguru's social medias and —

"Seriously? Who doesn't have a single social in this day and age?!" You curse, only finding photos of Suguru with Satoru.

"That's just like him."

"Maybe he has a Linkedin."

"You're desperate."

"Yeah!"

"Wait, here's something...?"

You investigate further.

"It's private?!"

Shoko bursts out laughing with ice cream melting on her tongue.

"Comedy!"

"This is seriously annoying. I'm gonna friend him." you say.

Shoko looks at you. You look at Shoko.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You're CRAZY."

"I am!"

"Let me watch, let me watch."

"Okay. I'm doing it."

*****

Satoru is mixing another over-sweetened, non-alcoholic cocktail to be sipped on as if he's drinking his sorrows away.

And Suguru? He's laying on the couch, ghosting social medias that he has no account with, happily enjoying a video of traditional cuisine when suddenly he sees the most outrageous, random, and bizarre notification from his mostly-dead private account.

He makes a suspicious side-eye, thinking it can't be real.

Friend request from @ 𝐘𝐍

@ 𝐘𝐍 wants to send you a message.

@ 𝐘𝐍 hey suguru 😊

"What the fuck." he whispers under his breath, blushing in a panicked kind of way.

Immediately, hot memories of you flood his mind. He sits more upright on the couch, glances nervously to check what Satoru was doing, then looks at your message again.

His heart races.

*****

"This is stupid. He's gonna leave me on read."

"Yeah. I forgot Suguru was notorious for that." Shoko sighs. "Operation: Suguru is a failure, then?"

"Yeah."

You set your phone down and continue binge watching a whole season of a trashy series on Netflix.

Your phone vibrates thirty minutes later. You check it without thinking, then scream so loud it startles Shoko right out of her zen-like Netflix mood.

"NO WAY."

"Is it him? What did he say?"

"He said 'hey'. He's online."

"Well say something!"

You panic, "What do I say?"

"Ask him for coffee! In a non-romantic way!"

"Okay."

wanna go for coffee sometime?

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 is this about satoru or us?

it's about satoru

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 riiight

i'm serious 😠

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 because i wouldn't mind if it's about us

"WHAT." you scream with Shoko.

"REPLY TO HIM."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW."

"GIVE ME YOUR PHONE."

Shoko clacks her nails against the screen viciously, replying to him as you watch her type.

"That doesn't sound like I wrote it."

"Well sorry for being grammatically correct."

"Make it sound sillier."

"There."

Shoko sends it. You watch and wait with bated breath, ignoring the climactic scene on the TV because Suguru Geto was far more attention-grabbing.

"Oh my god." you clap your hand over your mouth. "Is that sexual? Is he being sexual?"

"I have no idea, Suguru's an enigma."

"Do you think Satoru is sitting with him? Are they playing us?"

Shoko shrugs. "I don't know, but I'd read that message if I were you."

You look back to your phone.

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sooo coffee where and when?

"SHOKO WHAT DO I DO."

"I don't know."

"SHOKO."

"I DON'T KNOW. I'M STUNNED."

"ME TOO."

"I bet Satoru is cackling next to Suguru right now."

"I bet not. Listen to how sultry he is! That's three o's in there!"

Shoko thinks. "Yeah, but Suguru is always sultry. I think they're pulling a joke on us."

*****

Satoru is dozing off while his best friend texts you. Suguru's not resisting his smirk; it's plastered on his face.

@ 𝐘𝐍 tomorrow? 2pm sound ok? 🙈

@ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐢𝐞 sounds perfect.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞.

[reiding-writing]

melatonin and oxytocin [ s.r ]

Summary:

You and Spencer pair up in an inn room that just happens to have one bed. Oh, and did you know that physical contact promotes better sleep? Well, that’s what Spencer says anyway. And he’s always right.

WARNINGS: literally none, crazy i know

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: pure fluff, friends to lovers

wc: 5.1k

masterlist!!

a/n: here’s my official apology for all of the angst i put you through in erotomania 😭 i dont write pure fluff like ever so please bare with me if it’s a little stunted 😭🫶 also this is very very loosely based of off 05X21 - Exit Wounds.

The team was currently in Alaska working on a case, set up in a small inn during their stay. The issue was, they could only provide 4 rooms despite there being 8 members on the team, meaning that everyone had to double up for the night.

Spencer’s first instinct was to turn towards Morgan, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth Morgan was profusely shaking his head. “Absolutely not,”

“Wha-” Morgan held up his hand before Spencer could question his decision. “Never again. You are some kind of vampire I swear,”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in Morgan’s direction, met with a shrug. “This man needs his beauty sleep,”

“Dibs!” Garcia leaned over the back of the couch she was sat on so she could grasp at Morgan’s forearm. “I call dibs.”

Morgan chuckles at Garcia’s enthusiasm, leaning over to place a kiss on the crown of her head. “Alright, me and you babygirl,”

Garcia’s soft giggle is joined by a yawn from where you’re sat next to her, and you rub your eye with your knuckle as you lean your head against the back of the couch. “Can we just all choose quickly? I’m exhausted-”

The end of your sentence is cut off with another yawn, only further emphasising your point. Your words were definitely more blunt than usual, your tiredness most definitely making you more irritable.

“I uh- You can share a room with me if you want,” Spencer’s voice is timid as he speaks, and if he wasn’t stood directly behind you you’re not sure you would’ve heard it.

"Sure great, let’s go-" You drag one of the room keys off the small table in front of you as you stand, throwing your travel bag over your shoulder and walking around the couch, placing the palm of your hand flat on Spencer’s back to push him towards the stairs up to the rooms. “Goodnight.”

Your call back to the rest of the team is more of a custom than a genuine wish for them to get a good rest, and if you were more alert you’d probably hit yourself over the back of the head for being so blunt. But politeness wasn’t on your mind right now. You just wanted to sleep.

You fumble with putting the key in the door through your drowsiness, but eventually manage to push the door open to the room.

It’s about what you’d expect from somewhere small like this in the middle of nowhere.

The flooring was dark, with a small rectangular rug in a wine red colour in the centre, the walls an off-white with a slightly suspicious looking water stain in one of the corners. There was a dark-brown leather armchair leaned against the wall next to an ajar door leading to a bathroom, with a decorative pillow of the same shade of red as the rug on the floor. The arm of the chair had a noticeable rip, most probably from a child who’d got bored whilst staying there.

The room was warmly lit from the two lamps on the two side tables, the only other thing on them a basket-weaved mug coaster. The over head light was notably turned off, unable to be used at all seeing as it didn’t even have a bulb in it.

And of course, there was a single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room, it’s frame the same dark wood as the floorboards and definitely just as worn.

Although, the duvet and its pillows seemed brand new, a clean, sparkling white that stood out against the dis-colouring of the wall behind it, a throw blanket over the end and two decorative pillows on top, again matching the other decorative pieces in their dark red colouring.

You didn’t even have to look over at Spencer to know that he was definitely a little perturbed.

With a sigh your drag yourself into the room, dumping your bag on the armchair and unzipping it to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to change into.

Spencer however, remained stood in the doorway, seemingly considering whether it would be a better option for him to go out and sleep in the SUV.

His rational brain told him to just suck it up and get on with it, but he couldn’t help that subconscious voice in the back of his head that rattled on about how unhygienic hotel rooms are, especially in small rural areas like this.

Not only that, he was also battling the reality that he would inevitably have to share a bed with you, even if it was large enough to house both of you without any unintentional physical contact; He was at least grateful that it actually looked clean.

“Can I- leave the light on?” He breaks his own train of thought as he pushes the door closed with his foot, surrendering to the inevitability of spending the night in this dingy room with you.

You give him a short nod as your answer, joined by your third yawn in the span of five minutes. "God I genuinely think I could fall asleep standing up right now-"

Spencer chuckles at your yawn and nods at your words, leaving his bag on the floor as he takes a seat on the left edge of the bed, pulling out a copy of Les Fluers de Mal and flipping through it until he found the page he’d left on.

“It has been scientifically proven that it is physically impossible to fall asleep while standing, as your cerebellum would be triggered in response to the lack of stimulation which would cause a reflexive response to make you sit down.”

Of course Spencer would know something like that.

You rifle through your bag to find your toothbrush and travel toothpaste. "So what I’m hearing is I could fall asleep standing, but then i’d just end up sitting down," You zip your bag shut again once you’ve retrieved everything you need, pushing open the door to the small en suite bathroom, which thankfully, was much newer than the bedroom. "That sounds like falling asleep standing up if you ask me,"

Your voice muffles ever so slightly as you shut the door behind you.

“Yes, that is a fairly logical conclusion,” He nods slightly as he reads, not taking in the fact that you can’t see him from behind the door.

“Although I still believe it doesn’t quite count as 'falling asleep standing', as when you sit down your brain then activates its natural response to the loss of stimulation in order to put you to sleep. You see, it is impossible to enter the first stage of the sleep cycle within that split second between standing and sitting down, meaning that your body would still be awake.”

You chuckle lightly as you stick your head out of the bathroom once you’ve finished changing, toothbrush in your mouth as you dump your work clothes over the arm of the chair.

“The act of falling asleep occurs when your brain begins to transition from a state of wakefulness to a state of deep sleep. This is signalled by a spike in alpha-waves, which creates a relaxed feeling leading to…” He trails off as he watches you walk past him, figuring you’re not listening to him anymore.

"Why’d you stop?" You straighten your posture as you stop momentarily in your tracks, turning your head towards him.

“Oh, I- thought that you weren’t interested in listening to what I was saying.” His reply betrays his surprise at your engagement.

“I was simply going to add that when you are sitting and the spike in alpha waves occurs and you begin to fall asleep, your brain will automatically trigger a response that causes you to slump forward, hence causing you to sit down.”

Your body subconsciously mirrors your brain’s interpretation of what slumping over means as you walk past him again to spit out your toothpaste.

"Oh- like when you’re in a car and your head falls forwards-"

“Yes, that is a fairly similar example actually. Your brain receives the sign that you are beginning to fall asleep when your head starts to nod forward, and this causes a trigger within the brain’s automatic control system that in turn activates a response that makes you sit up straight so that you don’t fall asleep at the wheel.” As Spencer speaks, he shuts his book, leaving it on the side table as he unpacks his bag so he can also change.

“It’s actually rather surprising how the brain is capable of performing such complex tasks that we sometimes don’t even realise,” He said with an astonished gleam in his eye.

"Huh, the more you know-" You give a satisfied nod at Spencer’s little exposition, taking a seat on the right side of the bed and leaning over to turn the lamp off, allowing Spencer to leave his on as he retreats into the bathroom.

You’d never express it verbally, especially not to Spencer’s face, but you quite liked when he’d ramble about topics he was interested in and knew a lot about, it was both educational and weirdly charming.

You let out another yawn as you pulled back the duvet to lie down, extremely grateful that the mattress of the bed was just as new as the bedding itself. Looked like you might be able to get a good night’s sleep after all.

"Did you know that the human brain has over 100 billion neurons making over 100 trillion connections between them. Each second, a 100 billion electrical messages pass from one neuron to another. It is really quite fascinating." Spencer continued his tangents as he exited the bathroom, now clad in a black t-shirt and a pair of tardis pyjama pants that you found oddly endearing.

"That’s a lot of electrical signals…"

"A lot is an understatement" He chuckled, moving over to the left side of the bed and carefully laying himself down, making sure he wasn’t accidentally making any contact with you.

"It is so complex that it is believed that only a portion of our neurons actually fire each second, meaning that there is potentially trillions of more electrical messages going to unused parts of our brain." He seems to get lost in thought, staring up at the ceiling as he considers the idea further.

You hum softly with a small nod at his assessment, turning to lie on your side so you were half-facing him as he looked up at the ceiling, and you couldn’t help but find yourself tracing his jawline with your eyes as you studied how the dim lighting from the lamp besides him gave it even more definition.

Spencer turns to look at you after a few moments and notices your sleepy expression, feeling a tinge of guilt at keeping you awake since you are clearly exhausted. “I should probably shut up and let you get at least a little sleep. “ He chuckles awkwardly, “Sorry for rambling on, I kind of got carried away.”

"It’s okay… I like listening to you…" You rub one of your eyes with your knuckle as you struggle to keep them fully open, eyelids fluttering as you blink repeatedly to keep them from closing shut. You weren’t done looking at him yet.

Spencer’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink at your confession of enjoying listening to what he had to say.

He then starts to talk again, his voice quieter as he tries to accommodate it to your tiredness. “It’s not the brain’s electrical signals that dictate if you sleep or not, by the way. It is actually a neurotransmitter called melatonin.”

“Melatonin is the hormone responsible for controlling your sleep cycle, and it’s responsible for that sleepy feeling we get when we're tired.”

"Mhm…” You nod softly against the pillow, that was one fact you were definitely familiar with thanks to the joys of university, although hearing it come from Spencer’s mouth just made you want to go along with what he was saying like it was brand new to you.

“Melatonin also helps to regulate your body’s circadian rhythm, which is basically your daily schedule,” Spencer explained.

“Our bodies are naturally conditioned to go through a cycle of sleep and wakefulness. During the day your body will release cortisol and adrenaline for stress management and focus, and during the night your body will release melatonin to help you relax, making you feel sleepy.”

“Well i’m certainly feeling the effects of melatonin right now…” You try to keep up your responses to what Spencer is saying without falling asleep, but you can’t help closing your eyes as you focus on the softness of his voice.

Spencer smiles at your response and nods as he looks at you and notices your eyes are closed. “I should probably stop rambling then, since I don’t want to keep you awake for any longer…” He spoke even softer if that was possible, his eyes trailing over your forehead and down the bridge of your nose.

"I like your voice Spencer, it’s calming…" Your words are half muffled as you mumble them against your pillow. "And your facts are interesting…"

“Huh?” He asked you with a raised eyebrow, having not quite heard what you’d said.

"I like hearing you…" You simplify your words a little bit as you repeat what you’d said, a little louder this time, and you force your eyes back open again to look at him.

Spencer’s cheeks immediately turn pink at the compliment, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He is then quiet for a moment as he tries to process what you said.

“You… like hearing my voice?” He asks, a tinge of confusion evident in his voice, to which you reply with a soft nod and a small hum of affirmation. "I hate it when people interrupt you…"

Spencer’s cheeks remain a light shade of pink as he tries to process what you said, and he stays quiet for a while, trying to think of how he could respond to your little confession.

“I… Well… thank you-” he replies, trying to stay calm whilst also hiding his flustered smile.

“No problem…”

Spencer smiles at your response, eyes studying your expression in an attempt to better understand your feelings. All that he can make out however is your hair, and your tired and half-closed eyes.

“You know, you should probably go to sleep.” He chuckles softly, “It’s quite late after all,”

“Yeah… that’s a good idea…” Your voice is quiet as you mutter out an agreement, but you can’t help from feeling a mild disappointment that your small conversation with Spencer was coming to an end.

“Did you know it takes an average of 7 minutes to fall asleep?” You murmur out the fact as a last resort, half-hoping that it will encourage Spencer to keep talking to you.

“Well, it depends on the person actually” His reply is soft and non derogatory, and his eyes remain locked on the peaceful tiredness in your expression. “On average it takes about 15 minutes of lying down in a relaxing environment to fall asleep, however for some people it might take 20 minutes or more. On the other hand, some people can fall asleep much quicker, with one study finding that it only took an individual 65 seconds to fall asleep.”

“I wish I was that person,” You shift slightly to make yourself more comfortable, pulling your right leg upwards towards your chest and incidentally brushing it against his in the process.

Spencer is lost in his emotions as he stares at you, and it takes you turning your head against the pillow for him to realise that he wasn’t fully listening to what you’d said. “Oh- Yeah, pretty lucky huh?”

His eyes avert from you after that, suddenly very intrigued by the water stain in the top corner of the wall opposite where you were laying down, trying to remind himself that it is inappropriate to stare at his colleagues like that.

But despite all the rationalisation, his heart continues to beat at an accelerated pace and he begins to feel strangely excited seeing you move around the bed. You might be tired, but he certainly wasn’t. Not anymore.

Spencer turns to look at you again as you cover your face with your arm, seemingly protecting your eyes from the light of the lamp on his side table.

He’s silent for a moment as he finds himself staring at you again, mentally punching himself for finding himself getting so lost in your facial features.

"Do you want the light off?" He asks you, keeping the tone of his voice gentle.

“No it’s okay,” Shake your head underneath your arm, “You can keep it on…”

You knew about Spencer’s phobia of the dark. The whole team did. It was pretty much a given after what he went through a few years ago with Tobias Hankel. And you wouldn’t mind sacrificing your comfort of sleeping in pitch black darkness if it meant that Spencer wouldn’t be uncomfortable or afraid.

Spencer gives a nod at your answer, and you can tell he’s relieved that you didn’t want him to turn it off. After a few seconds he speaks again.

"Can I ask you something?" He says, keeping his voice soft.

“Mhm?” You move your arm from your face to rest against your forehead so that you can look at him as he speaks.

Spencer's cheeks immediately turn a light shade of pink again as he meets your eyes. “It's… uh… Well, it's a strange question,” He replies awkwardly

“Would… you mind if I… uh….” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “Would you mind if I put my arm around you?” He eventually manages to say, keeping his voice soft.

“Huh-?” You let you arm fall back down to your side as you process his question, eyes blinking more awake and Spencer’s cheeks only turn more red as he sees your surprised expression.

“Well… You see… I- it's a common thing that people do when sleeping… to… uh… to hold one another..” Spencer replies, still keeping his tone soft and gentle. He begins feels incredibly stupid for even bringing up this topic, hastily trying to explain himself before it has the opportunity to become awkward.

“Is it?-” Your eyes flicker around his face, your eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly as your exhaustion seems to momentarily disappear.

“Uhm… well… usually it’s for romantic reasons,” He replies, his face turning a light shade of pink yet again. “But… uh… I’ve … heard… that some people like to cuddle in a… platonic way… to help them fall asleep…” His voice threatens to waver slightly as he speaks, and he hides the lower half of his face in the bedsheets in an attempt to hide his cheeks, not wanting you to see how red he’s gone.

“Oh- Uh- Well, if you think it’ll help…” Your subconscious mind knew that Spencer was pulling those facts out of his ass, but you didn’t have the mind to care, not when he was practically openly inviting you to drape yourself all over him.

Spencer perks up when you give him the go-ahead, gently wrapping his arm around you and lightly pulling you closer to his body as he turns to look at your face. “Is this okay?”

His expression screams nervousness as he stares at you, praying that you don’t find his actions uncomfortable.

“Mhm…” Your response is short and direct as you nod, adjusting yourself to lie with your head resting under his chin, allowing your arm to drape over his torso like he’d done yours and bringing your leg up to rest over his waist.

Spencer can’t help but smile as he feels you make yourself more comfortable, sliding one of his arms underneath you and moving the other to hold the inside crease of your knee.

“Do you know that physical contact has a calming effect on people’s minds?” He keeps his voice gentle, as he always does.

You give a soft hum that gently vibrates against the skin of his neck, sending a small shudder down Spencer’s back.

He carefully adjusts the position of his head so that he can keep looking at your half-closed eyes, figuring that considering the two of you were practically intertwined like a pretzel that it would be okay for him to gaze at you again.

“You know that skin-to-skin contact promotes the release of oxytocin…. It… uh… it can help to make you feel calm and comfortable,” He says softly.

“Oxytocin…” You mumble the word under your breath as you try to remember what the hormone is, “…the love hormone..?”

Spencer’s voice turns to a whisper as he responds. “That’s correct. A lot of people refer to it as the ‘love hormone’ because it is released at high levels when people engage in romantic activities or are falling in love.”

“It is also responsible for the feeling of trust and comfort,” His hand on your leg begins to draw small circles against your skin, barely feathering over you to the point where you can hardly feel it.

“Would you believe me if I told you that we were producing this hormone right now?”

You sigh softly against his neck at the ghost of his fingers against your leg, only half listening to what he’s saying as you try to focus on the feeling, and Spencer responds with one of his own as he feels the warmth of your breath against his skin, leaving small goosebumps in it’s wake.

Spencer’s fingers slowly widen their ascent up and down the side of your leg, brushing along your thigh as his fingertips gently skim your skin.

“Comforting, isn’t it?” His voice is low and gentle as he feels just how comforting your presence is, slightly shocked by how excited he feels when being this close to you.

“Yeah…” You muster up as much of nod under his chin as you can, giving his torso a slight squeeze from where your hand is around it.

Spencer smiles at your gentle squeeze of his torso, noting how light it is as you barely manage to add any pressure at all.

“Do you know that physical touch also triggers a person’s serotonin and dopamine production?” He asks you softly.

As if to test his fact himself, he moves his thumb up and down your thigh with a little more pressure, his fingertips leaving behind a trail of almost unnoticeable goosebumps.

“Yeah… Yeah I knew that…”

Spencer smiles softly at your confirmation. “Then you know the feeling they’re giving you right now?”

You give him another small nod as he pulls you a little closer to him, stroking his fingers a little higher up your thigh. His arm underneath your side shifts to your mid back and starts to gently massage at the tense muscles formed over your last few days bent over a desk to work on the case’s profile.

The slow pressure elicits a soft groan from your lips, a pleasant release from all of the tension you’d been carrying over the last few days, slowly dissipating as his fingers worked their magic over your t-shirt.

Spencer can feel you starting to relax into his body as his fingers work against your skin, and his breath threatens to catch in his throat as your hand moves from resting around his torso to up over his shoulder, fingers curling closed against the fabric of his t-shirt.

Spencer leans his nose against the crown of your head, the trace scent of lavender entering his nose as he took a slow breath in, most likely a trace from when you’d last washed your hair.

By this point, the two of you were very aware that the position you were in was anything but platonic, his hand tracing patterns into your thigh, your head pressed into the crook of his neck, and your hand slowly tracing over the curve of his shoulder to take it’s place cupping his cheek, your thumb pressed against the front of his ear with the rest of your fingers splayed in the soft curls gracing the side of his head.

“I’ve run out of facts…” Spencer laughs nervously at his confession, breaking the small silence between you.

“you’ve run out of facts…?” You force your eyes to blink open again as you repeat his statement as a question, pulling your head out of it’s position under his chin to look up at him curiously as you arbitrarily trace your thumb over his jaw. It wasn’t at all like Spencer to just not have anything to say.

Spencer’s face turns a dark shade of red when he hears your question, made much worse at the feeling of your thumb on his jaw, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine. “I- Yeah….” He says quietly.

Suddenly a thought passes through his brain.

“I… actually…. I do have one more fact…” his voice turns to a whisper as he speaks, a tinge of nervousness still lingering in his tone.

“Hmm?” Your expression brightens a little, and he catches the small glisten in your eyes as the dim light from the lamp reflects off of your irises.

There’s a short pause.

Spencer then clears his throat before speaking.

“...Do you know that right now... at this very moment... I want to kiss you…?”

He remains facing away, his hands trembling ever so slightly against your skin as he mutters out his confession, trailing off at the end to the point where if you were any further away from him you wouldn’t have heard it.

“...Is that okay…?” His voice was barely a whisper, scared that if he were to speak too loudly he’d scare you off and you’d never want to speak to him again.

“You want to… kiss me..?” His confession spurred you further awake, no longer struggling to keep your eyes open as you scanned his expression, your hand halting its movement against his jaw.

The sight of you gazing up at him makes his heart skip a beat and causes butterflies to flutter in his stomach. Spencer then looks down at the space between your noses, and speaks nervously.

“…I- Yes, I want… to kiss you…” His eyes quickly dart over to your lips and back again as he waits for any signal of acknowledgement or refusal.

“Will it help us fall asleep?” The question leaves your mouth instinctively as a way to try an alleviate the mild awkwardness between the two of you, and you internally berate yourself for not taking the situation seriously.

Spencer laughs a small, nervous laugh when you ask if it would help you both fall asleep, moving his hands back over to your thigh and gently brushing his fingertips against it.

Spencer then looks down at your lips again as he speaks. “No, I don’t think so…” He says, his tone once again turning to a whisper. “…if anything it might actually wake us both up further…”

“Just say it will so I can kiss you-“ Spencer remains silent for a moment, face frozen in shock. He then lets out a nervous sigh as he looks down at your lips again.

“…It- Yeah- Yeah it’ll help us fall asleep…” he whispers, his voice barely audible, and he gives you a nod that’s a little too eager.

“Then there’s no harm in trying right?” Your hand cups the side of his face, gently encouraging it down towards yours so you can finally place a kiss on those perfect pink lips of his.

“Yeah…” He slowly leans forward towards you, taking in your faint scent, the warmth coming from your breath, the softness and moisture of your lips.

Spencer’s lips slowly press against yours, just barely ghosting them with the tiniest bit of pressure. He then slowly pulls back, his eyes darting all over your face before again settling on the stain in the corner of the wall. It was just so interesting.

You take his chin in your hand gently to turn his face back towards your own, your thumb gently tracing the line under his bottom lip as your eyes scan his cheeks, pouring over the extremely faint spotted freckles over his cheeks. You’d never noticed them before. But then again you’d never been close enough to.

“I’m not quite sure it worked… Maybe we should try again…” You watch as Spencer’s face erupts into a beautiful pink flush, a soft breath resembling a laugh leaving his mouth. “Yeah, we can try again-”

Spencer nods as he speaks cutting his own sentence short as he leans down to kiss you again, adding a little more pressure this time as he seemingly grows in confidence. The kiss remains chaste and short, and as he pulls away for the second time his eyes remain fixed on you, smiling alongside his mouth.

“Is it working now?” He laughs softly as he speaks, eyelashes gently fluttering as he places a kiss on the bridge of your nose, his fingers slowly sliding into your hair at your temples.

“I’m not sure yet…” You respond with a kiss of your own placed against the curve of his chin. “Maybe we should keep going…” You place another kiss right in the corner of his mouth, and Spencer sighs softly as it misses his lips by a hair. “For research purposes…”

He smiles lightly when you mention it being for ‘research’, and his voice grows even quieter as he speaks.

“Yeah… research purposes…”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Mistakes

Jungkook knew from the first look at your eyes, that you'd be the biggest mistake he'll ever make.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Smut, car sex, protected sex, no strings attached, big dick!Jungkook, implied size kink, very mild Dom!Kook undertones, oral (m. receiving), sugar daddy!Jungkook vibes but only in a joking manner

Length: 7k words (oops)

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook doesn't really attend parties- typically.

But this time, for this occasion, he can't really pull himself out- he's got to at least show up for a moment, be there and present, before he can call it a night and go home. It's not like he hates his coworkers or employees most of all- he's just not that good at socializing, and never really was.

He's learned to be alone, and now he's too good at it.

A lot of the people in the hall, he doesn't know. That's probably because he's allowed people to bring a plus-one, so most of the people here are couples, which makes the whole situation just so much worse. "You could at least try and appear like you're having fun, you know?" Taehyung laughs, standing closer to his coworker now, a drink in hand. "It's not that bad." He tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

"It's not even been an hour and I already want to go." He sighs.

"Why not leave then?" Tae wonders, sipping his non-alcoholic drink, since he's gonna have to drive home later, his wife currently conversing with other coworkers. "Oh, right, because Namjoon-"

"God don't remind me." Jungkook mumbles, shaking his head as he sips his whiskey. "I can't believe I lost that bet." He growls to himself, watching how someone seems to struggle with choosing the right food at the buffet, plate still empty even after several minutes. You look young, or maybe you're just short- he's not sure, but what he is sure about is that you do not work for him or his company- at least not in the same building. He would've noticed you, just like he does right now.

"I think she's Yoongi's plus-one? Or at least he drove here with her together.." Taehyung mumbles, having spotted his friend watching you.

"She looks young." Jungkook mumbles. "And I thought Yoongi was seeing the secretary we hired a few months ago?" He wonders, finally letting his eyes leave you alone, form-fitting dress very complimenting to your body, not too revealing, but still somewhat teasing.

Taunting him, almost.

"Oh, he does! Namjoon caught them making out in Yoongi's office last week." Taehyung laughs. "She's probably just a friend." He shrugs.

A friend, huh?

"Maybe something for you though?" Taehyung jokes. "I mean, I think I saw her drinking earlier, so she's at least of legal age." He laughs, making Jungkook cringe at him. He doesn't really find this whole joke funny- not at all, but Taehyung is right when it comes to Jungkook having a.. severe lack of company these past few years. Only occasionally does he have some sex without any strings attached- never brings anybody home however, refuses to cling to someone.

He's divorced anyways. Most women don't really find that very appealing.

Maybe he can have some simple company this time as well, nothing serious at all- it's been a while, after all, and everyone's an adult here, no matter the age difference. As long as he communicates it properly, there's no reason not to at least converse with you.

So he does indeed approach you, finding you still at the buffet, barely anything on your plate at all.

"Too much to choose from?" He wonders next to you, and he realizes the huge mistake he's made when approaching you the second you lift your head to look at him.

The lights reflect in your eyes like mirrors, minimal makeup perfectly enhancing your features, lips shiny with the most sinful shade of lipgloss this world probably has to offer. He's a goner, right away, lost in the sight of you, as if he's been thrown into the deep end of a pool so cold that it freezes his muscles, making him sink down to the bottom like a stone.

"Oh, no.." You answer, looking back at all the foods. "I have a shellfish allergy, so I'm not sure what I can eat.." You mumble, one hand having reached up to play with the sparkling pink gemstone hanging around your neck.

His mouth feels dry for a second, before he catches himself.

"Here." He mentions, pointing at some small numbers near the names of the foods on the small cards. "Those small numbers, the three right there is for shellfish." He offers, pointing towards a different card close by where the numbers are explained.

"Oh! Thank you so much, I hate contact lenses!" You laugh to yourself. "I usually wear glasses, but I wanted to look pretty.." You giggle, putting some food onto your plate now.

"I'm sure nothing can ruin a face like that." He flirts without truly thinking about it- making you visibly blush, trying to contain a smile.

"I appreciate the compliment…?" You wonder, and Jungkook knows, he's probably about to make another, grave mistake.

"Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook." He introduces himself, and you tell him your name in return, smiling oh-so devastatingly beautiful.

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His plan was absolutely not to explore what might be beneath that pretty dress of yours- and it seems like that might stay that way despite his length inside you.

You're moving your hips in ways that makes him dizzy, mind clouded with lust as you bounce up and down, hands on your back the only thing helping you avoid accidentally hitting the steering wheel. He's pushed the seat back as far as it goes, but you can never be too sure- he wouldn't want you to honk and draw attention to the surely shaking vehicle in the darkened parking lot.

The condom had been pure luck- he's not a fan of pulling out, so if it hadn't been there in the glove box of his car, he probably would've had to awkwardly call it quits before anything really happened at all. It's not like you both instantly were at each other's throats the moment you left the gathering- he simply offered to drive you home instead of Yoongi, who'd wanted to stay a little longer, while you complained about feeling tired. And in his car, you'd talked- casually so, something clicking, as he's now got you on his lap, bouncing on his dick like he's not experienced in quite some time now.

He feels a bit bad. Despite making sure that you know this is nothing but a casual fuck, it still feels a little odd to him. He doesn't like things like these- it feels like he's using you, and he's not a fan of such situations.

Though he can't deny that you feel absolutely divine.

The rain is heavy outside, pushing against the car's windows from all sides, drowning out the otherwise rather obscene sounds coming from between your bodies. Your hands are on his shoulders, fingers gripping his muscles beneath the fabric of his formal button-up. He refuses to kiss you, can't find it in him to do it, and you accept it, instead treating it as detached as you can, simply chasing your high as you fuck yourself on his twitching length.

He feels good. Thick, able to reach far inside you, but not enough to hurt.

The way he holds you is nice too- not too strong of a grip, only enough to guide you, keep you moving, keep you going. He's not big on dirty talk, isn't over the top with anything, and it almost feels like he's treating you like a woman, and not some chick he's met at a party. There's a certain sense of respect he's offering you that gives you confidence, makes you feel powerful for once even though he's clearly setting the pace.

This is something you don't usually get to have. Someone taking you seriously.

"You close?" He asks out of breath, avoiding your eyes, rather looking at your lips, though never moving into action. A limit he's set, and a limit he follows, he's clearly a man that doesn't wildly change his mind on the fly. Though, considering who he is, and where he is in life, he probably has had enough time to be untamed and wild already. You faintly wonder if he's ever been in a long-term relationship. Yoongi hasn't really talked about him much.

Neither have you asked. You've seen him, once or twice- but a man like that is out of range for you.

You nod when he grips your behind, reminding you quietly of his question, hips stuttering as he takes over, helping you move to chase his own orgasm right after yours. You're a bit overly sensitive, but you push through it just to see him clench his jaw, eyes closing as he groans out in relief, cum spurting into the condom inside you.

It's suddenly over, and not even your evening breaths can mask the slight awkwardness that's filling the car.

One of his hands keeps you close, though you have to lean against him a bit as to not move your hips too much as he reaches for something from the glovebox, plastic wrap of the small pack of tissues making a distinctive sound. "You okay?" He asks you, and you nod, now having switched places apparently as you avoid his face entirely.

You rather move a bit weirdly to accept the tissue offered, lifting your hips to awkwardly wipe yourself down, before pulling up your underwear and climbing back into the passenger seat, where you clean the inside of your thighs while he discards the condom from his length with a slight hiss of sensitivity.

You never really know what to say. You don't actually do this often- this is only the second time you've ever hooked up with anyone like this, and it's just as weird as the first time.

"Thank you, by the way." He offers, taking the challenge away from you as he puts the tied up condom in the tissue to discard it at home later. "Let me drive a bit closer to the building, just so you don't get too wet." He says, pulling his seat back into proper position before he starts the car.

Such a gentleman- You're a little disappointed. But only mildly so. Will you even stay in his mind?

Probably not.

You're way too young for a man like him, who most likely wants a proper woman in his life instead of a.. instead of you. You're not even sure where you are at in life- neither a woman nor a girl, somewhere in between, floating, unsure, neither and both. You know however for a fact that you'll remember him- probably for quite a while, before the memory will fade into nothing but a glimpse.

"There we go." Jungkook says, stopping the car very much in front of your apartment building, sideways so that you can run right into the main hall. "Please remember to text Yoongi, okay?" He reminds you. "He might be worried otherwise." He smiles kindly, and you nod, a bit forced, grabbing your light coat and your handbag. "And.. I enjoyed it. Very much so." He makes sure to tell you, making you nod a bit shy.

"I.. uhm, I'm glad." You nod, awkwardly, causing him to chuckle.

"Now go hurry inside before the rain starts again." He urges, making you nod dumbly once more before you open the car door, running inside the apartment building after closing the door.

And he drives off, back home, where nothing waits for him but the humming fridge and a cold, empty bed.

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Daehyun can be a little spoiled, but other than that, he's a well behaved kid for his age.

He loves staying at your place, though his questions on when you'll be getting another dog after your first passed away a year ago are sometimes a bit stinging to your heart. He's a child, obviously- he doesn't understand the hurt that can settle in your soul after losing such an important piece of your life, so you can't blame him for moving on a lot quicker than you.

He's too young to understand that yet.

"Uncle Yoongi has a cat now!" Daehyun tells you as he builds the lego set with you, his small hands having some difficulty here and there, but he's a quick learner, and a good improviser. "But he said I can't play with her, because she's a girl-cat, and girl-cats don't like playing." He explains, pouting a bit as he uses all his strength to pull two pieces apart again.

"Well, I think she's just be a little nervous still." You reassure the boy. "You know, she just moved into a new home. Things might be a little scary to her." You explain, and Daehyun nods.

"I only pet her a bit." Daehyun tells you. "Appa said we're gonna get a dog soon though!" He says with excitement, making you smile.

"That's nice." You agree, helping him pull some bricks apart. You like having the little boy over at your place- it makes you feel both like a grown person, and also like a child at the same time. Daehyun doesn't judge your vast collections of stuffed animals and lego sets- he only sees you as the nice aunt, a big sister, a friend of his dad where he stays over at often whenever work gets in the way and takes away most of Taehyung's attention. Just like this weekend- Taehyung having needed someone to look after the boy, Dae's mother constantly equally without any time. You're not sure how long that marriage is gonna last with her refusing to step back at least a little to properly take care of her own child, and with Taehyung's growing frustration over the situation.

You hope the poor boy won't get caught up in the crossfire. That would just be awful.

Hours later, all the toys put away, your doorbell rings, giving you the clue that someone must be now here to pick the young boy up. Probably either Jimin or Yoongi- but when you open the door, it's neither of them, but a casually dressed Jungkook, hands in his slacks as your gaze gets caught on the slightly unbuttered shirt that's tucked into the pants, LY-labeled belt buckle accentuating his rather slim waist.

What the fuck.

"Oh- uh, come inside." You offer, stepping aside to let him in, Daehyun quickly running up to Jungkook, who mirrors the excitement of the young boy as he squats down to hug him. You let them both have their moment, instead walking around to collect all of Dae's things, checking twice to make sure he didn't forget anything, as you text Taehyung to make sure the man is really supposed to take the boy with him.

He is, which makes you a bit upset. Taehyung could've told you before.

When you walk back inside the living room area, Dae is currently busy showing Jungkook a stuffed animal- a gift from Jimin a year ago, modeled after your dog as a keepsake. "He was suuuper big, and really nice!" Dae beams up at the man. "He always ate ice cubes, but-" the small boy inspects the stuffed animal a little, lips pouting. "-Noona said he was really old, so he went to sleep." He offers, and Jungkook seems to realize what the stuffed toy might actually be.

"Let's put him back on the table then, yeah?" He offers, a hand with faint ink taking the toy from the smaller hands of the boy to place it back next to the picture frame of your dog and the collar on the tiny table near the door where he used to sleep. "So he can sleep well." He explains, making Dae nod. When you make your presence finally known, Jungkook removes the hand, heavy watch on his wrist faintly hitting the edge of the table for a second, as he watches how you help the small boy into his jacket.

You're a little confusing.

"Alright." You say after successfully getting Daehyun to put on his shoes. "Theres- uhm, there's a, wait, I'll show you.." You say, moving to pull a little folder out of one of the bags packed. "This one, please make sure Taehyung sees this. It's Daehyun's homework, and he really needs to do them this time." You emphasize. "Just make sure he actually looks inside at least once.." You sigh, putting the bright red folder back into the bag.

"I'll make sure." Jungkook accepts, taking the bag from you. "Anything else?" he wonders, and you refuse any eye contact, instead shaking your head to hug Daehyun goodbye as you bring him and Jungkook to your front door.

"Noona, you gotta hug Jungkookie too!" Dae says, surprising you with his lack of formality when addressing his father's friend- but you don't question it.

And admittedly, Jungkook is fairly surprised when you do in fact reach out to hug him goodbye, though very formal. It's still.. oddly nice, you don't seem to wear perfume but rather rely on your scented bodywash, which smells very good to him. This is weird. Why is he getting such feelings of comfort for a simple hug with nothing attached to it?

And why is he kind of disappointed when it ends far too quickly?

But it gets worse in the car, because Daehyun has clearly gotten the wrong message entirely. "Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." He says from the backseat where Jungkook has placed the booster seat he's gotten from Taehyung in cases like these where he has to pick up the young boy. "And appa said you don't have a girlfriend." He says, making Jungkook nod and hum a reply. "Noona is really pretty." He giggles. Jungkook cant help but chuckle along.

"She is." He agrees, because he won't lie about that. You are very pretty in his opinion, though he can only really judge you mostly by looks alone. "Did you have fun? I heard you were there the whole weekend." He tries to steer the conversation away, but the young boy clearly doesn't get the message.

"Noona can cook really well!" He praises. "She always makes me my favorite, and then we watch tv in our 'jamas." He says, and Jungkook has to imagine you both probably bundled up in blankets on the small couch you have, watching kid's shows until the poor boy falls asleep.

Domestic. Do you like children? Want your own in the future, maybe?

"Jungkookie?" Dae asks, and Jungkook hums a reply, telling the kid he's listening. "Do you like Noona?" He wonders.

"I don't know her that much, dae. But she seems nice." He offers instead, trying to evade the interrogation of the small boy.

"Do you like drinking?" Dae wonders. "Like, the stuff appa says I can't have?" He asks, and Jungkook grows a bit weary. Why exactly would the young boy ask something like that?

"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" He asks the boy, who seems to deflate now.

"Then you can't be friends with Noona." He complains.

"Why not?" Jungkook wonders.

"Because, the guy noona liked for a while always got mean when he was drinking that stuff." Dae complains, looking out the window. "I was never allowed to play at noona's house when he was there. He really liked that stuff that smells bad, but it made noona upset." He says.

Jungkook tenses up a bit. "Was he ever-, how was he mean to you?" Jungkook wonders.

"He always told noona to do things for him, and never let her play with me." He huffs. "And Yogi didn't like him too, because he always had to stay in his bed." He complains. Jungkook assumes the boy is probably talking about the dog.

Jungkook doesn't know how to ask what he wants to ask. It doesn't concern him at all- after all, it seems like you're no longer together with that guy, so he shouldn't pry. But something makes him worry- deep down, he's awfully wary, since he now realizes you did indeed not even touch any alcohol at the party at all- the drink Taehyung had seen you hold non-alcoholic. How bad must the relationship have been? You might not have a fear of men, but you're clearly affected by the past, it seems like.

"Did.." no. He shouldn't be asking that. It's none of his business.

"Do you get mean too when you drink?" Dae wants to know. "Appa only gets really sleepy." He giggles. Jungkook laughs along. Taehyung truly does only get horribly tired whenever he drinks- and he knows for a fact that he never gets drunk when he has to take care of the boy alone, so he's not at all alarmed by those words.

"No, I don't get mean." Jungkook answers. "I don't really drink a lot of it, so it only makes me feel a bit silly." He offers as an explanation, and Dae nods.

"Then, maybe Noona won't mind." He says, causing Jungkook to chuckle, shaking his head.

"Why do you want Noona to like me so much?" He wonders, and at that, Taehyung's son becomes excited.

"Because, then my favorite people like each other!" He exclaims. "And that's really cool. Then we can have sleepovers together, and you can help me get a new dog for noona!" He says. "She's really sad that Yogi sleeps now. I think she's lonely." He whines.

"We can have sleepovers anyways, dae." He laughs.

"But, appa told eomma, that you need someone you like." He huffs. Jungkook reminds himself to scold his friend at a later date. "Because you're not happy now, and you're lonely. And noona's lonely too." He offers.

Luckily, Jungkook escapes any further questioning as he finally reaches Taehyung's apartment, ready to drop the young boy off.

The whole conversation not leaving him at all the entire rest of the day, as he realizes he forgot to show Taehyung the folder.

Crap. This is your fault.

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It's been weeks- and apart from rubbing one out to the remaining memories of you in his car, he's not really thought much about you at all.

He's seen you on occasion here and there at the grocery store or a coffee shop, which made him realize that you've always been right under his nose but he just never knew who you were, but you two don't really have had any actual conversations anymore.

There's no reason for it.

He now knows that you're actually the part-time nanny Taehyung used to have a few years back, when you apparently had just been fighting to find a new job to keep your apartment and not get kicked out for not being able to pay rent. Back then, Taehyung and his wife had been living separated for a bit after a pretty bad fight- so the father had needed someone to take some weight off his shoulders, and help with the small child who couldn't even talk yet. You helped raise Daehyun basically, more or less- and, according to Taehyung, it shows.

The young boy has a strong sense of justice, and shares everything he has happily- something that he's learned from you. It makes some odd things make sense now to Jungkook as well- how Dae has some habits that seem very unique, but also too specific to have been developing all on their own. The child holds the front of his shirt a lot- something Jungkook noticed you do in a similar way as well, whenever you think of something.

Today, it's Daehyun's birthday. And Jungkook is sure, that the young boy probably demanded that both jungkook and you had to be there.

And he's right.

The minute he enters Taehyung's penthouse, he spots you sitting on the floor with the child, who's currently trying to read his own birthday card to you, before he spots him in the doorway. You look pretty, yet again. No makeup it seems like, and he can't say that you need it. You obviously don't, eyes still sparkling dangerously, smile still as lethal as ever as you wave a little bit before getting up.

You're dressed comfortably. He likes the sight of it- the casual dress you wear not too short to be scandalous, but short enough to tease him with the skin of your legs, hidden beneath a sheer pantyhose. Or?

No. There's an upper hem of lace- those are just stockings.

"Jungkookie, appa said you'll drive noona home today?" Dae says, now held up on Jungkook's hip, as he looks at Taehyung who laughs.

"Dae, I said I'm gonna ask him if he can drive her home!" He scolds gently. "Hey- sorry, he just runs with whatever he hears." The father tells him, and Jungkook just smiles, shaking his head.

"I can drive her home, no worries." He simply affirms. "It's no problem."

"Taehyung I told you I can go home by myself!" You whine, and Jungkook is intrigued by this seemingly new side of you. He knows you as a little shy, soft spoken, polite. You always greet him when you see him, and you've talked a little bit in his car weeks back- but then again, you only know each other on a very surface level.

He wonders what you're really like.

"And I said you're not driving alone when you're sick." Taehyung threatens, dad-voice coming through as he attempts to push through your clearly stubborn behavior, and Jungkook can't help but watch intently as your eyes roll around, attitude clear as you don't take your friend seriously at all.

"Noona is gonna be a mommy!" Daehyun blurts out to Jungkook, and for a split second, his entire body freezes, blood cooling down to the negatives, bones filling with fear.

He wore a condom- but what if something happened? What if it leaked? Was that even possible? He's not against becoming a father, absolutely not- but he'd like to have a proper relationship for that, a stable one, not something like this.

"Daehyun!" You scold with red cheeks, and Taehyung runs a hand over his face. "Appa just asked me if I was, I'm not!" You whine embarrassed, sighing. "Oh god, guys, please! I'm an adult woman, I'm not sick, I can go home by myself." You complain, walking into the kitchen, presumably to escape the pressuring situation.

"She threw up earlier, that's why I asked her. Dae must've heard me." Taehyung says, after averting his son's attention back to the TV in the living room, where his favorite show plays. "She refuses to see a doctor for it. But you look like you've seen a ghost-" Taehyung teases, before his eyes sharpen. "…could it be that the mention of her becoming a mommy made you worry?" He pokes, and Jungkook furrows his brows, averts eye contact. "Holy shit, you two!?" He hisses, and Jungkook groans.

"Shut up, it was nothing." He simply says, while Taehyung's eyes widen in a scandalized manner.

"Nothing?! Jungkook, where is that nothing?" He argues, surprisingly sternly. "I'll drive her home."

"You're acting like I forced myself onto her-" Jungkook sighs, but Taehyung shakes his head. "Taehyung, you heard her. She's an adult woman, she can decide things herself." Jungkook defends you. "I'll drive her home, and I'll text you once she's dropped off." He says, before he walks into the kitchen where you're filling up a glass with water.

"Oh god that was embarrassing." You whine into your hands, before you shake your head. "He acts as if I'm dying any second whenever something's up." You mumble, drinking from your glass. He can see you're a bit less energetic- hand a bit shaky as you drink.

"He worries." Jungkook offers, leaning against the counter next to the fridge, across from you. "And you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well." He scolds, and yet again, you roll your eyes.

"And you should try and work on your facial expressions, mister." You huff. "I could see the panic a mile away when Dae said I'm pregnant." You bite, making him tilt his head a little "Either way, I'm fine. I can't afford to call in sick right now or my landlord will kick me out the minute my rent is late again." You laugh a little bitterly, finishing your water before you rinse the glass in the sink.

"Do you not get paid a regular salary each month?" He wonders. You shake your head.

"I do, but it's the monthly bonus that keeps me afloat." You explain. "And I only get that one if I'm not sick and bring appropriate numbers to the table." You sigh. "My landlord just searches for a reason to kick me out, I'm sure." You mumble as you dry your hands.

"How come?" Jungkook asks.

"I didn't want to go out with the guy." You shrug, not looking at him. "I like older men, but sixty? No thanks.." You huff, turning around to look at a smug looking Jungkook, his arms crossed.

"Would've never guessed." He tells you in a cocky manner, and you cross your arms to mirror his position in an exagerated manner.

"I would've probably let you screw me if you were younger too." You respond.

"Oh?" He raises his brows. This is oddly fun. "Were you that needy?" He teases, and suddenly, your eyes soften quite a bit, scaring him.

"No." You shake your head. "Guess you were just that charming." You shrug.

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"If your job pays that awful, why not change it?" Jungkook wonders as he maneuvers out the parking lot, leaving Taehyung's home behind after Daehyun had gone to bed.

You shrug.

"I'm lucky I got accepted in this one." You say. You're tired- it's obvious to him. "I dropped out of school too early. Now I'm facing the consequences- and honestly, it's not that bad either. I get by, and it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice." You offer.

"Do you not have any ambitions?" He asks, relaxed now that he knows you're not one to be overly sensitive when it comes to more personal topics like that. You don't try to read between the lines where there's most of the time nothing at all to find.

"Its not like I don't have any ambitions." You respond, neither denying nor confirming. "It's more that I realized some of those ambitions were.. unrealistic. So I instead pursued what was." You shrug. "Nothing too deep. It's.. part of growing up, I guess." You explain.

Growing up. Talking to you, right now, truly does remind him of that. Almost two hands between you both in years, but you're awfully matured in the way you think at its core. You just have a softer shell around it, your opinions can still move, your mind still has some sort of wiggle room.

His doesn't. He makes decisions and sticks by them, most of the time. He doesn't like change, he enjoys his routine, keeps everything in order most of the time- until now.

Because you're definitely a decision he keeps bending around.

"How much is your rent?" Jungkook asks, and you look at him from where you're leaning against the car's window, an amused expression on your face.

"Why? You wanna be my sugar-daddy?" You joke, and he shrugs, much to your surprise.

"I don't care what you call it." He simply says. "But if it get's you to take some time and take care of your health, I can take care of a month's rent." He offers.

"I don't like that." You respond.

"I know." He laughs. "I've come to learn that you don't like accepting help. But it's something you can't avoid at times." He explains to you. "I'm just offering help. Whether or not you take it, is up to you." He shrugs.

"Why would you do that?" You wonder, suspicious.

"Because Taehyung worries about you. And Daehyun would be terribly upset if something was to happen to you." He admits. "I don't know you well enough to say that I'm doing this for you- so I'll be honest. I do this mostly for them." He says.

You nod. You like this- that he's actually telling the truth, instead of trying to woo you into something.

"Alright." You sigh, tired. "I'll.. text you?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I have your number from Taehyung already." He chuckles. "I just didn't have a reason to reach out yet." He admits.

You just nod, eyes falling shut for longer he notices.

You must be working hard if you're this exhausted. He really hopes you'll take care of yourself after he helps you sort everything out.

Hopefully his help is enough.

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He's lost control over the situation. How can this happen a second time?

He's been texting you these past few days, especially after you've finally took some time off of work to sort out your doctor's visits, having received some medication to finally help you resolve your issues.

He's not sure why he keeps coming back to you. And he's especially not sure how the hell he managed to get himself caught up in a situation like this twice, especially after Taehyung had been clearly upset about the first time.

There's something about you he can't really pin-point. It's both scary, and exciting.

You're kneeling on a small heart-shaped pillow from your small couch, hands occupied and slicked up with your own spit as you caress his length, head of it warm inside your mouth as you lick and suck. You've offered, and he assumed it to be a joke- but the moment you got down between his legs, all of his usual control over things went out the window. He might appear to be the one in charge, right in this moment, but he's truly at your mercy.

It makes him anxious. This shouldn't be happening.

But he can't deny the appeal of you taking care of him so well- it feels scarily intimate to have you between his legs like this, eyes closed as you seem to enjoy yourself, mostly due to his own hand reaching out to run his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face and taking the chance to offer some form of affection before he collects your hair in his fist for a second, long sigh escaping him as he feels the tip of your tongue push against the head of his cock, dipping into the small point, before you adjust your legs, letting go of him for just a second to lick from the base to the very tip once more.

You're a succubus, hidden behind a pretty face and sinful body.

He's not sure what your motivation is, hasn't really figured it out for the first time either. There's this little devil on his shoulder constantly urging him to accept your advances and let himself go, but the angel is louder, and keeps on feeding him doubts about the whole thing. He's consumed by his work, he doesn't have time for you, he can't offer you what you might want from a relationship. He doesn't even know if he himself is ready for something like that- he knows he should be, considering how long ago his divorce had been finished, but it's still odd to think about it. He's scarred by what went down, and doesn't want to go through this again.

He can handle being hated by one person he used to love. He wouldn't be able to have two doing the same.

It made him wonder if he's even someone worthy of having a relationship. Does he have enough to offer you that's not physical or monetary? No. He doesn't have time, he's awkward as hell, he doesn't like parties and rather enjoys laid back vacations somewhere no one knows him- if he even takes one at all. He wants a quiet life-

A quiet life?

'it's a quiet life I'm living, which is nice.'

Maybe it's your hands on his cock, the back of your tongue over his tip, or the way your fingers suddenly move to massage his balls just right- but he's facing this horribly ironic moment of both pleasure and realization at the same time as his cum shoots into your mouth, lips sealed over the head to suck him for all he's got. His hand keeps pushing your head, fingers digging into your hair, and you moan quietly at the faint sting of it.

His head rests back on your couch. His hand loosens, letting you go, while his eyes stay closed, breath deep and uneven as he tries to calm himself. He doesn't even realize how you tuck him back into his underwear as he softens, though you leave the fly and belt untouched, instead moving to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

You wait. For what? You're not sure.

"I.." He starts, taking in a deep breath, a hand through his hair trying to sort him out again. "..you.."

"Was it good?" You wonder almost innocently, watching him amused.

He nods. "Very." He simply answers, brain dumb. He hates this.

"Nice." You smile, before you move to put the little pillow back on the couch. "Do you wanna.. leave right now? Or stay for coffee?" You wonder, treating this all way more casual than he is. He's not sure what to do. But he knows you need to talk about this.

"Can you come here for a second?" He asks, and you nod, putting down the mug you got out of the pantry, making your way over to him to sit on the couch next to him. "I hope you know this isn't.. needed. I honestly just wanted to help you out with rent." He urges, and you nod.

"I know." You say, making him feel a bit lighter. "Was that.. not something you wanted?" You worry, but he shakes his head.

"I'm.. I'll have to be honest here." He sighs, having closed his pants and adjusted himself prior already, not leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees. He can't look at you- not if he wants to be honest and straight forward. "I'm not sure." He offers. "I think it's clear that there's an attraction going on- but I don't know how far this can go."

"I'm not in love with you or anything." You defend yourself. "Neither do I have a crush. I just like you." You shrug.

"That's good." He nods to himself. "It's good that you know that. That you... can distinguish it."

"I think your problem might have something to do with.. my age?" You wonder, and Jungkook turns his head towards you, eyes staying on your knees however. "Yoongi mentioned something once. That he has a friend who has some sort of mid-life crisis right now and thinks he's too old for everything." You giggle.

"And how do you know that would be me?" He calls you out a little offended.

"Because it just fits." You laugh. "You play around with Dae all the time, but the second someone watches you, you become all awkward. It's kinda sad." You admit.

"How so?" He wants to know.

"Because it's dumb." You say, leaning back against your couch.

"Maybe for you. But when you're my age-" He starts, and you suddenly start to laugh, cutting him off.

"See! That's how I know you're the one with the crisis!" You joke, hand hitting his shoulder playfully, and without any intention to hurt. "I'm not a kid. I can make my decisions just fine." You say.

"And your decision is?" He wonders, now looking at you.

"That I want to get to know you." You tell him. "I want to.. see where it goes." You offer.

"What if it goes nowhere?" He argues. "I can't promise you some fairytale love-story." He denies. "I'm divorced, I want children at some point, I don't like parties, I work long hours-"

"But that's stuff that we can work out, no?" You wonder. "Time is what you're scared of, right? Then how about this-" You say, suddenly sitting on your knees, body facing his. "Every day you're not trying is a day you could be spending in a more productive way. For example, by getting to know me. Trying out if your idea of a relationship aligns with mine, if your work schedule is too packed, all of that." You offer. "Right now, we could already be talking about more interesting things than the 'what-if'. Or, in your big-man-terms:" You joke, leaning closer to him. "You're wasting time."

"Have you ever considered a career in communication-training?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're awfully great at this." He praises, making you giggle.

"Nah, I like my normal nine-to-five." You say. "Even if it barely pays enough."

"Well I heard someone's taking care of rent at the moment." he offers, reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Well, only for a month, so that's a bummer." You shrug, leaning into his hand now holding your cheek.

"..I'm not used to being in a relationship." He sighs.

"We can start just being friends." You respond.

"I think we're a little past the general boundaries of friendship." He chuckles.

"Then friends who occasionally have sex." You roll your eyes.

"That's not very romantic." He argues.

"You can fuck me with music in the background?" You joke, and he shakes his head, laughing.

You're truly far more than he thought you are, and he's not sure if he's worth your time. But he wants to be. Looking at you, right now, he wants to be worth it. He wants to put the effort into it, even if it doesn't work out in the end. He wants to try- so that even if you don't fit, you at least had some good memories together that were worth the time spent.

He wants to try.

Even if it's a mistake.

[sincerelybubbles]

Here's a dialogue prompt for Emily please! Try this out pls. Love you Kam sm sm. "So why are you here?" "To make a fool of myself." ok ty lysm

even though i watched u type this, the wording makes me giggle every time i look at it.

emily prentiss x tech analyst!reader <3

warnings: fem!reader, cannon typical violence, very brief allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens!), angst and fluff! mutual pining.

word count: 5.4k

Emily is the loveliest thing you've ever seen and you can't imagine how she could ever possibly like you back. She enjoys the game, though, and teasing you is her favorite hobby.

-

It’s a sunny day. Warmth trickles down with the scattered light through the leaves. Patterns trace your arms, throwing your skin into a collage of different shapes and shades. Leaning back on your elbows, you watch people mill about the park. You look back down at your arm after a few more minutes, this time focused on the small watch resting there. With a sigh, you stand up and dust off your pants before picking up the small blanket you laid out and tucking it into your bag. 

You walk back to work, enjoying the sounds of the people around you. You lingered too long at the park during your break and are hoping that nobody notices your slightly late return. Maybe the team will be in a meeting, gruesome pictures you never quite learned to stomach plastered on the board, entirely oblivious to your tardiness. 

Unlikely, but a welcome thought soothing your anxiety as you push the door open and scan your badge at the security desk. 

“Welcome back,” the security guard says, smiling at you over his paperback. He’s an old greying man and you vaguely recognize him. You think he’s new and send him a warm smile in return. 

“Thanks,” you glance at his name badge, “Martin!”

You walk past him and step into the elevator. “Wait!” A voice calls and you reach forward to hit the hold button instinctively before you register the voice as Emily’s. 

She jogs into the elevator with you, smiling gratefully. “Thanks, I’m already running a little behind.” She lifts a container and shakes it a little. The label is from the Italian bistro across the street, about a ten-minute walk away and always nearly triple that in wait time. 

“Brave of you to go there during your lunch,” you joke, returning her smile and pressing the button for your floor. 

You hope she can’t see how your hands shake as you reach forward.

“I know, I just love their Pasta Brado. Have you tried it?”

“Can’t say I have. I’m boring, I usually go for the parm.”

“You’re not boring,” she says so earnestly that you can’t help but blush. You cough as an excuse to raise your hand to your face and hopefully hide it some. “You do have to try it, though. Here,” she offers you the plastic box. 

“Oh, I couldn’t. And I already ate.” You ignore the way your chest hurts a little at how enthusiastic she is. The worst part? She doesn’t even know how endearing her simple kindness, her casual enthusiasm, is to you. 

“Tomorrow, then. We can go together.” The elevator doors open as she says it and she steps out with an affirmative nod to solidify it. “Don’t try to bail out on me either, I know where to find you.”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, feeling lame as you step out behind her. “I would love to.” She’s too far to hear you, though, already heading to Spencer’s desk and jumping right into his conversation with Morgan. 

Someone says your last name and you turn on your heel to see Hotch and cringe slightly. “I was trying to find you.” It’s a kinder way of him reminding you that you’re nearly ten minutes late back from your lunch. 

“Sorry, sir.”

“It’s fine. Do you have the reports finished from last week's trip to Huston?”

“Yes, sir, they’re at my desk. One moment.”

-

You and Emily don’t go to the bistro the next day because she and the team are sent to a small town in Kansas that night. 

“I’ll owe you lunch,” she says, hand on the back of your desk chair and brushing your shoulder as the team rushes to the jet. 

“Don’t worry about it!” You reassure her.

“I’m taking you to lunch,” she calls over her shoulder, pretend-glaring, “you will try that Brado!”

And then she’s gone, leaving you giddy and breathless. 

You know she’s just being friendly – she treats Spencer, Morgan, and JJ all the same as you – but her efforts to spend one-on-one time with you outside of work still have you feeling like a schoolgirl passed a note from her crush in class. 

You try to remind your heart to stop singing because Emily probably isn’t even gay and definitely isn’t interested. Instead, Garcia scares the shit out of you when she interrupts your inner monologue. 

“Lunch with Emily? Things are getting serious in your work marriage.” You hadn’t seen her walk into the room and jump at her voice, hand jumping to your mouth to suppress a yelp. “Sorry! Sorry!”

“It’s okay, didn’t see you.”

“Your loss, I look fantastic today.”

“As always,” you smile up at her, nose wrinkling and genuine fondness filling your senses. 

“Careful, wouldn’t want a workplace affair,” she jokes, leaning against your desk and picking up the stress ball you keep handy. 

“Stop,” you moan in good nature. “Nobody else calls us work wives.”

“That’s just because they don’t have my brilliance and excellent observational skills.”

“Nor do they have the same privy to my more personal thoughts,” you say, glancing up at her before returning to your paperwork. With the team leaving so quickly to tend to a missing child's case, you’re not getting home in time to cook dinner but are hoping to leave early enough to grab food instead of resorting to your freezer stash. 

“I would hope not. You know I can’t be replaced, baby.”

“Does Morgan know you talk to all your work besties like this?”

“I most certainly do not. You’re a regular bestie, not a work bestie.” A wink and then her expression sobers. “I do have an actual reason for visiting your humble cubical, though.”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to need extra hands for this case. It’s time-sensitive, as usual, and seems like it will be particularly tricky.”

“Yes ma’am,” you say, dropping your pen and standing to follow her. 

Your position at the bureau is kind of a catch-all. Most of your time is spent logging data, building reports, and doing general research for the team. Occasionally, though, you jump in to help Garcia with real-time research. Nothing as high-stakes as her direct assignments, more background work. Calling offices to talk to managers, combing through more meticulous data, generic census material to rule out obvious dead ends. 

It’s stressful work that technically isn’t what you’re paid for but you never complain. Your team saves lives, consistently putting themselves in the line of danger. If you have to spend a few hours a month helping Garcia call a suspect's manager at McDonald's to see if he still works there, it’s literally the least you can do. 

“Yes, so, it looks like our unsub…”

You drown out Garcia’s brief about information you already have sitting in front of you and begin vetting possible suspects from the large pool her system created.

It’s going to be a long night. You think about future Brado to cheer you up. 

-

“Reid, Prentiss take the back,” Hotch’s voice fills your ears. You imagine the pair nodding and splitting off from the group. 

This is your least favorite part of helping the team with active investigations – listening in on the calls. It’s rare that you and Garcia join the line when they’re approaching the unsub but, with you helping her, it isn’t a risk to distract Garcia and a much quicker method of getting any new information the team needs. It’s a new system you’ve only tried thrice, unsure how having microphones on 24/7 will work, and it grants you and the team more fluid communication.

Still, adrenaline floods your veins as you listen to their coms, the sounds of Garcia typing a constant behind their voices, imagining every way this could go wrong. 

You suspect the girl is still alive, the uncle doesn’t seem to have any reason to kill her just yet, but your fear for her grows with every minute. 

“Clear!”

Your eyes fall to the receipts flooding your screen. Ammo. A new rifle and pistol. The team knows but the evidence of this unsubs ability to hurt any of your friends, your family, isn’t helping your nerves. 

“I think he’s going to the roof!” Morgan’s voice, clear in the comms. 

You click out of the documents. Two swift motions on the screen. The firm press of the button. 

“Morgan, you’re on foot. Prentiss, follow him. Everyone else in vans, go!”

“Garcia, map out possible escape routes from the roof,” you instruct. 

She nods, screens shifting immediately. She puts on her own headset with one hand and clicks on the call and starts to bark information to Hotch. 

“Got her!” Reid’s voice sounds and you deflate a little. He mutes as he begins to console the small girl. 

You know you can take off your headset now, leave the call, and go to your paperwork. There isn’t much more you can do to help – you’re sure that’s what you’re supposed to do – but you stay on anyway, listening. 

“Right on Elmore!” Morgan calls. You find the street on Garcia’s screen, eyes tracing the path you think they’re taking. 

“We’ll try to cut him off,” Rossi says and you can hear tires in the background of the call. The click of a steering wheel cutting to the side too quickly. Someone’s labored breathing – probably Morgan’s as he dead sprints. 

“Stop! Put your hands up!” Emily shouts. The firmness in her voice makes you sit up straighter in your chair. 

You hear something that sounds vaguely like, “bitch,” before a loud pop drowns anything else out. 

“Emily!” Morgan’s voice, more pops. 

Gunfire. That’s gunfire, your brain recognizes. 

Your blood has gone cold.

“We need a medic!” Morgan shouts. Hotch’s line blinks red, going dead as he calls the ambulance. “Emily, Emily.”

Rustling. Cars. Sirens. Morgan’s line goes dead after you hear a car door slam shut. Then Reid’s and Rossi’s. Emily’s is the last to stay green, blinking.

You and Garcia stare at each other as you listen to Emily be loaded into an ambulance. Listen to Morgan tell the team, voice far away and barely tangible, that the unsub only managed to fire out one shot before he downed him. 

Neither of you can hear where she was shot or how badly injured she is before Emily’s line goes red as well.

-

“Emily?” You call softly, rapping your knuckles softly on the frame of the cracked hospital door. 

Your name, faint, answers you and you take that as permission to nudge the door open. The room looked dark from the hallway but Emily has the small lamp embedded on the wall switched on, throwing her face into harsh shadow. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking in, arms full. “I brought things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says, trying to sit herself up further and wincing as the motion pulls on her stitches in her abdomen. 

“Wait, let me help you,” you say, setting your things down and reaching out a hand. 

You wait for her nod before touching her, letting her grasp your arm and looping your other arm around the back of her waist to take most of her weight yourself. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles. You can tell she hates feeling useless, hates needing help for something as simple as sitting up, so you drop the subject with a nod and kind smile. 

You turn around to the small rolling tray where you put your things down, pulling two black containers out from a plastic bag. You feel silly and very awkward as you turn around to show them to her. 

“I know it’s probably not quite what you meant but,” you set the containers down on her bed and pop one open. 

“The Pasta Brado! Oh man, I was going to treat you.” She’s pouting through a smile, attempting to put on an upset facade and failing miserably. 

It’s so cute that you struggle with what to say next. 

“Thank you, really. You can pull up that chair, if you’re hungry now.”

You grab the chair she’s motioned to and drag it to sit next to her. “I’m hungry if you are. It might be a little cold, though, it’s kind of a far walk.”

“You walked here?” Emily asks, tone appalled and face comically shocked. 

“Yeah, my car broke down last week. I’ve been walking to work – it’s actually really nice out right now – and I couldn’t find a cab from the bistro.” You busy yourself with the food while you talk, opening the second container, setting it on her legs, and unwrapping the plastic cutlery for her. 

“Jesus! You didn’t need to come and see me if you don’t have a car. You didn’t need to come at all, actually. I really appreciate it,” she amends, seeing how your bashful smile freezes on your face, reaching forward as if to touch your face and brushing your shoulder instead. “It’s really sweet of you but you didn’t need to walk all that way. Isn’t it like a twenty-minute walk from here?”

Over thirty, but you nod anyway, knowing it won’t help your case to correct her. “It’s not a big deal. You were shot in the stomach, of course I wanted to see you.”

“Ah, so you wouldn't want to see me otherwise,” she teases, nodding and pushing her pasta around with her fork. She doesn’t even try to conceal her grin. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You take a bite of your food and your eyes widen. “Oh my god.”

“I knew you would love it,” she beams, watching your expression as you taste the food. You you she meant to say it in a gloating way but you swear you can hear a sort of fondness behind the words. Something in you warms at her ability to know you so well. 

You tell yourself you’re overreacting about both thoughts. 

“You were right – Emily this is unfairly good.”

“Oh, I know,” she says, taking her own bite and letting out an exaggerated moan, complete with an eye roll. You giggle and she smiles at you. “Thank you, this is exactly what I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, holding her eye contact. 

She's been in the hospital for three days, transferred back to Virginia last night; her hair is unwashed and unbrushed, and she’s wearing no makeup and a hospital gown. 

She’s still the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. 

-

Your car is fixed by the time Emily is released from the hospital two days later and you offer to take her home. 

“Hi Sergio,” you greet the cat brushing against your legs as Emily disengages the alarm. 

You set her things down by the door before turning to offer her your arm. Emily doesn’t pretend that she doesn’t need the help when it’s just you two, something you’re grateful for after watching her struggle with the team around, and lets you guide her to her bedroom. 

You set about making her comfortable, turning down her sheets and propping the pillows up so she can sit. 

“I’ve got it,” she laughs, playfully pushing away your hands. 

You laugh along with her, raising your hands and backing away. “I’m going to go put the rest of your stuff away and get you a drink.”

“Perfect, I’ll take an old-fashioned. Don’t forget the cherry.”

You roll your eyes at her, scoffing and leaving her room. 

You throw her clothes and go-bag in her laundry room before making her a glass of water and another glass of juice. Once you’re sure she’s settled in her bed with her book, you return to the kitchen to make her a few dinners, ignoring her protests. 

-

Emily is back in the field much sooner than you would have liked. 

“I was cleared by the doctors,” she tells you, coat slung over her arm as she digs through her bag for her badge. 

You smile at Martin, sending him a mock exasperated look, before she finds her ID and shows it to him. 

“It still seems too soon, Em,” you persist, reaching forward to push the elevator button and turning so you can lean back to watch her face. 

“Em?” Emily asks, the hint of a smile pulling up the left corner of her mouth. 

You sort of feel like you could die in that moment, just from the heat that simple gesture surges through you. 

“It just sort of slipped out, sorry,” you say, thoroughly embarrassed. 

The elevator dings and the doors open, throwing you off balance for a second. This doesn’t help your already flared nerves as you stumble back and drop your bag. You reach down to gather it and the files scattered across the floor. 

You’re kneeling to stuff everything in your bag when Emily crosses your line of sight again, wide smile on her face – teeth fully on display and nose scrunched, you are in desperate need of help – holding out your notepad.

“I think the nickname’s sweet. I kind of like the idea of having a name only one person, only you, calls me.”

All of the air has left this godforsaken elevator, the heat must be on, you stare dumbly at her as she reaches forward to grab your bag and put the rest of your papers inside of it for you. 

And then, realizing you look like an absolute idiot, you snap back into your body and cough slightly. The doors ding and open again, you grab your bag from her and stand slowly. Smiling at her, still crouched on the floor and looking, amused, up at you through her eyelashes, you say, “Okay. Thanks, then, Emmy.”

You walk away after that brief flash of confidence, telling yourself you’re just imagining how you swear her face flushed bright at your comment. 

And if Morgan mentions a few minutes that Emily seems flusters, well, who can blame you for floating on that high for a few days?

Except she doesn’t let it go. 

She corners you on your break in the kitchenette. Literally. She catches you when you’re examining the coffee pot that has been making concerning gurgles for the past few days and leans on the counter behind you, effectively blocking your exit. 

Not that you really want to leave. 

She’s wearing a red tank top and dark jeans, her hair is loose around her shoulders, eyes steadily trained on your face as you work. 

“Hello,” you say, quiet in a way you’re not normally. 

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” You ask after a few more moments of her silently staring at you while you pretend to know what you’re doing with a screwdriver. 

“Enjoying the view.”

You drop your screwdriver and relish in the sound of her laugh. 

-

You’d love to say that you had some suave answer to return her charm but you think you spent it all that morning with your boldness. 

You’re not shy but confidence doesn’t run in your blood either. You’d say you’re pretty normal – average. You don’t find much wrong with that, you know you have other qualities that build you up into an interesting person. You love your friends and coworkers deeply, for one. And have an intense trust in them and their abilities. 

That trust is always tested in your day-to-day at work but never more than now as you feel the car around you make turns at highway speeds. You think you’re on some sort of back road but it’s hard to tell from the trunk given the obvious lack of windows. 

You’re calmer than you thought you would be if kidnapped. 

Groaning after one particularly rough turn that has you jostling against the sides of the trunk, you allow your head to thump back and stare at the inside of the dark car. Light breaks through the cracks of the hinges of the trunk and you wonder if water trickles through when it rains. 

You’ve been in here too long to consider if you’re focused on the wrong things. You’re scared shitless, of course, but the adrenaline faded about an hour into your drive and now you’re just bored. 

Imagine that – bored as fuck in the trunk of a stranger's car, wrists burning from the rope and jaw sore from where it’s been forced open too long by the fabric tied around the back of your head. 

You’re just allowing yourself to reimagine your morning with Emily when the car stops and the engine cuts. 

You snap back into the present, energy flooding your system again as your brain flicks into overdrive. You might spend your days paper-pushing behind a desk, but you passed your physical. You’re smart, you’ve heard the stories of how these victims survive captivity. 

When the trunk pops open, you squeeze your eyes shut to prevent pain from the sudden lack of light. You don’t want to be blinded and the action has the added benefit of pleasing your captor. He put a hood over your hood when he grabbed you, muttering in your ear in tense tones that you would do best to not even try to see him. 

Say what you will, you usually do a pretty good job at following directions. This one is easy and happens to be number one on your list right now – keep him happy so he keeps you alive. 

“Good girl,” a gruff voice says before a calloused hand gropes the back of your neck to yank you forward. Scratchy fabric envelops your head and your hot breath bounces back against you, trapped against the fabric of the hood. 

You stand when his hands start to grab your waist, pulling yourself to your knees and allowing yourself to be lifted from the trunk.

You want to run but know now’s not the time. 

“Look at how well-behaved you are!” His breath is wet against your neck. He stands too close, hands clawing under the hem of your shirt to cling to your skin. 

He walks you forward like that, chest pressed against your back and breath slithering down the collar of your shirt to hang uncomfortably over your collarbones. 

It’s becoming increasingly more obvious what this sicko wants from you and your stomach is twisting at the thought. You urge the team to hurry up, knowing your absence would have been missed ages ago. They have to be looking for you by now. And, with how sloppy this dude seems to be, he must have left a plethora of clues waiting to be found. 

You have to repeat this to yourself as you hear a door lock click. 

“Took you long enough. This is the girl? She’s kind of … well,” the second man kisses his teeth with a sharp sound. You’re pushed forward again. “Whatever floats your boat man.” The door shuts and locks behind you. The second man's voice fades as he talks, disinterested. 

You wonder if it’s wrong to feel slightly insulted right now. 

“This way, doll.”

You listen. It’s saving your life to be complicit in his directions, so you listen. Still, you’re shoved harshly to the floor once you get to where he wants you, knees striking what feels like cement. Before you can recover, your cheek stings and your head is whipping to the side from a sudden slap. 

Then, there’s a kick to your ribs. You fall onto your side, too winded to even cry out, lips falling open in a silent scream. A boot in your belly. Your ribs again, your hip and back. 

“Why?” You manage to sob out. “Why, why?”

You don’t get an answer.

-

You’re not overly religious but you thank whatever heavens or universe exists that he leaves you alone once he’s done kicking the shit out of you. Your ribs are bruised but the worst you expected hasn’t happened. 

The boredom returns as you lay with throbbing ribs. At least one is broken and every breath hurts. You can’t imagine sitting up and, luckily, with your hands tied behind your back, it’s not really an option anyway. 

It must be near an hour later when you’re fading out of consciousness – a purposeful choice on your part to save your energy – when you hear the front door burst down. 

“FBI! Hands where I can see them!” Morgan. You nearly weep but think better when your stuttered gasp makes your side throb. “What the fuck?” You hear shouted in reply. “Robb, what the fuck man.”

There isn’t much of a resistance from the living room. The second man is shouting at what you can only assume is the first – your initial kidnapper – but there’s nothing else other than that. 

“Clear!” You hear Hotch call. Spencer replies and then you hear the door nearest you open. 

His voice calls out your name. You deflate against the floor. A second, you know he’s scanning the room with his gun before holstering it. “Clear! I need a medic!”

Hands, gentle, against your face, removing the hood. Swifter after that, removing your gag, and then hand binds. 

“Hey, Spence,” you say, trying to smile up at him. 

“Shh, you’re okay. We’ve got you.” He starts to support your weight behind your shoulders and the pain that brings is too intense to prevent your yelp. 

“Oh my god, is she okay?” You hear Emily ask seconds before you see her. She looks concerned, hair now in a tight ponytail and FBI vest strapped over her chest. She whispers your name once and then a second time, reaching forward to gently brush your hair out of your eyes. 

“Hey, pretty,” you say, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

“Hi beautiful,” she answers, reply just as soft as your own. Earnest. 

It makes your heart ache and, for the first time since being yanked off the road walking to grab lunch, you start to cry. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, beautiful, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She repeats this as you’re lifted by the paramedics and cry harder. 

She repeats it when they stitch up where kicks burst the skin over your cheekbone open, repeats it as she trails a hand down your arm in gentle patterns while they examine your ribs and confirm that you’ve broken two, maybe three. 

She tries with you in the ambulance. 

You can’t help but think about being on the phone when you heard Emily be shot weeks earlier. You squeeze your eye shut as they insert the IV, beyond grateful that she’s there to hold your hand while they do it. The tear that falls down your cheek has nothing to do with the pain and everything to do with the thought that you couldn’t have been there for her in the same way. 

An odd thought, you realize, but it’s the one you’re stuck with as you drift away when the pain medicine enters your system. 

-

You’re sent home three days later. You insist on spending the night alone, afraid to admit you’re scared because, honestly, nothing much happened to you. 

Oh, of course, everyone tries to convince you otherwise but you know they’ve all had it worse. You were gone from the bureau for about eight hours and spent most of it bored. 

So you force yourself to spend the night alone. You don’t need help moving around or doing things for yourself so you convince yourself you don’t need help. 

You’re cooking dinner when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands with a dish towel and take your time walking to the door to look through the peephole. You don’t know who took you yet, you haven’t asked and nobody has said, but you can imagine seeing him through the door. Waiting for you, waiting to kill you this time. 

Okay, yeah, maybe Spencer was right when he talked about PTSD and usual levels of anxiety, but you’re so tired of him being so right all of the time that you really want to prove him right.

There is no man standing on the other side of the door, though. Instead, you see Emily, holding a plate wrapped in tin foil and looking serene in your apartment hallway. 

You open the door quickly, unlatching it and turning off your alarm with a few clicks. “Emily?”

“Ah, man, I was getting used to Emmy,” she jokes, stepping inside with a smile in your direction and kicking off her shoes. 

You can’t think of an answer so you just smile at her, hoping she’ll take the lead. You’re tired and she must see it because she offers the plate in her hands to you once the door is closed and the alarm is reengaged. 

“Rossi sent me with it with explicit instructions to not let you share it.”

You giggle and take the plate. “I’ll have to tell him thank you. It’s kind of out of your way to come all this way, though, isn’t it?”

“Not out of my way at all,” she says, words dripping with meaning as she holds your eyes. “I would have come even if Rossi didn’t have food for you.”

“So why are you here?”

“To make a fool of myself,” she says, casually, like that’s something people say every day, “probably. You’ve just gotten back from the hospital and I know you said you wanted to be alone, but,” she swallows and her words are becoming more rushed as she speaks, “I said the same thing and you still stayed.”

“Emily?” You ask, setting the plate down on your hallway table and clearing your throat. “Ah, Emmy?” You amend when she cuts you a look. Your attempt to diffuse the tension doesn’t work and she steps closer so you’re toe to toe.

“That doesn’t really answer your question, though. You’re sweet enough that you would let it go, but,” she shrugs, reaching forward to gently loop her fingers around your wrists. “Stop me if this is awful timing. Please,” she says, leaning forward and staring into your eyes. 

You feel like you’re suffocating, but if this is death, you’ll greet it gladly in the irises of Emily Prentiss. You’re caught in the trap of the moment, heart hardly breathing, all aches and sores forgotten because Emily is leaning closer, breath fanning across your face. You feel intoxicated, ensnared. 

Everything that has ever been exists here, now, in this moment. Every breath used to blow out birthday candles and blow away eyelashes – breaths with purpose, with wishes, with intent – exists between the two of you as she leans closer and closer. Closer, still, and how can so much distance exist between you two when you’ve been standing so closely?

“Just, stop me, if you want,” she whispers against your lips, eyes falling shut. 

Time yawns again, freezing. Your eyes open, hers closed, beats of seconds pausing. Hesitating for you to hold this moment in your hands. You’re grateful to appreciate it because she really is so lovely. Her bangs are pushed back from her face with a headband – imagine that! Emily owns headbands! – and you can see every detail of her face. Her elegant nose, her slim eyebrows, her narrow, prominent, lips.

And then your heart finally catches up, beats loudly, cracks whatever fragile plane of glass holding the moment so perfectly still, and her lips are meeting yours. 

You gasp into her mouth, hands breaking out of her hold to grab her face. You’re afraid that she’s going to pull away before this kiss can be fully real. Before you can actually taste her – lemon cake and rain and warmth. Before you can memorize the feel of her lips pressed against your own before you can drag her closer and slip your hands into her hair. 

But she doesn’t pull away. She meets your enthusiasm with a sigh and then enthusiasm tenfold. You can feel relief in the kiss, feel how she relaxes into you. She takes a step forward and you take one back half the amount to account for it. 

A tilt of your head and it’s better, impossibly. She’s firm, sturdy, beautiful. Confident. Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

And then she reaches forward to hold you to her, hands brushing your ribs to wrap around your back and you can’t hold in the gasp of pain that causes you to stiffen. You want to take it back, want to ignore the pain, want to keep her near, but she won’t allow it.

“Oh, I’m so so sorry. Are you okay? I’m sorry.” You smush the apologies against her lips, removing one hand from her hand to guide her arms around your shoulders where they won’t hurt. “Okay! Okay,” she giggles, leaning back with several short kisses that do nothing to satiate you. “I need to know you’re okay.”

She can obviously tell she hasn’t hurt you too bad by your reaction, but the sweet caution in her voice has you melting further. 

“I’m perfect.”