#i get done with school Forever (if i want) and this is the first thing i draw to post in months | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlemisskookie · 1 month ago

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See You Like That

See You Like That Ship: Childhood Frenemy/Roommate!Jungkook x Bitch!Reader Description: Your entire life, you only saw Jeon Jungkook as a nuisance you couldn’t escape from. But what happens after the two of you move in together, and the dreams that plague you force you to see him in a different light? Warnings: Extremely Mean Hard Dom!Jungkook, BDSM, Brat!Reader, Masochist!Reader, Sadist!Jungkook, Dub-Con, Extreme Face-Fucking, Oral (m. & f. receiving), Extreme Degradation, Extreme Humiliation, Facial, Face-Fucking Again (a different sort of way), Rimming (f. receiving), Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Scenes, Like these scenes are actually crazy, Slapping, Spanking, Fingering, Pussy-Slapping, Spit, Rough Sex, Praise, Choking, Manhandling, Restraining, Hate Sex, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Masturbation, Sex-Toys, Squirting, Dacryphilia, Hair Pulling, Jungkook has a HUUUUUGE Cawhk, Threesome? (Ft. Taehyung), Reader is a bitch because I love them Word Count: 30.3k A/N: This was an absolute monster to write, but it had to be done.

The first 11 days of your life were absolutely glorious.

You slept as much as you want, ate as much as you want, basked in the light of your mother's arms without a care in the world. They were probably the best days of your life, not that you could remember them. Nothing threatened to disturb your peace.

And then Jeon Jungkook came along.

Oh, both of your mothers were absolutely thrilled. Having been life-long best friends, they had every intention of staying together until their dying days. They meant it, too. Living next door to each other, getting pregnant within the next year— though that part was much closer together than originally anticipated. Luck is what they assumed.

When both had a bundle of joy to call their own, who they planned to raise together, they were elated beyond belief.

"They're going to be the best of friends, forever and ever, just like us!"

Ha. Little did they know.

Sure, you got along with Jungkook when you were little kids. The two of you would take baths in the same sink together as infants, attended the same preschool. He would be the one who yanked you off school bullies during recess, dragging you off as your fists flew towards whatever boy had been picking on him. He was your partner during every field day, without even having to ask.

But then some form of resentment grew.

Jungkook was always the golden child of you two. Never got into fights, always got straight A's, never got sent to the principal's office. You, on the other hand, always found yourself in some sort of trouble. You couldn't help but always say the wrong thing, or find yourself in the wrong place, wrong time. And who was the one who always had to drag you out? Golden Boy Jeon Jungkook. Despite being almost two weeks younger than you, he ended up being the one mainly in charge, he ended up being the responsible one, he was the one who had to look out for you. It was supposed to be the other way around! What about that bullshit saying that women matured faster than men?

Somehow you proved the be the exception, and having Jungkook always come to your rescue made you absolutely livid as the years went on.

"I don't need your help!" God, how many times had you screamed those words at him?

Suddenly he was the one you were letting your anger out on, with your angry quips and quick insults. Didn't help that you knew him inside and out, having grown up with him. At first he'd just take it, letting you blow your fuse and get it out of your system. But then he started throwing punches back. Not literal ones, no, it never got to that level. But he'd have something sharp to say to cut you down when you were making your own attempts, no longer silently taking the full force that was your rage at both him and yourself.

The worst part though was he never left either.

You were stuck together, whether either of you liked it or not. He probably wanted to leave you a million times by then, but due to the pressure of your parents, you were now his responsibility. Always in the same classes, always enrolled at the same summer camps. Living twenty feet away from each other. There was no escape. You and Jungkook were going to a part of each other's lives forever it looked like, and there was nothing you could do about it. So every day you'd walk together from school. Every weekend your parents would have a joint dinner together. Every family vacation, every cruise, the two of you were forced to share a room.

Your parents thought you'd both grow out of this festering resentment. Eventually they accepted that it was simply some sort of sibling dynamic. Sure, you guys bickered constantly, you both swore you couldn't stand each other's guts, but you both still cared. You couldn't help it. You hadn't known a life without Jungkook, and he didn't know a life without you. It was hard to imagine. No matter what happened between you two, you guys never left each other's sides.

You were finally able to gain some distance when you both went off to college. Granted, it was the same one, the only one close enough and affordable enough for your family, and Jungkook had gotten a full ride there, so it was no brainer. But you didn't live in the same dorms, and you were able to make separate friends who didn't know you two as being practically conjoined twins. You had gotten sick of hearing it in the hallways.

"Oh she's basically his sister!" That's what so many would say when they questioned why the two of you were so close. You couldn't stand it. It was bad enough being tied to him so closely already, the thought of actually being related made you want to barf.

You did imagine however that Jungkook was the closest you'd ever get to a brother. He was protective at the most annoying and inconvenient times, like when he insisted on following you to your first house party and refused to let you drink or take a hit of anything. He was super annoying, like when he gloated over his college entrance exams and their scores, rubbing in your face just how much better he was than you, at everything, always. Just another thing to add to the list of things you hated about him.

When the two of you entered university, though, you finally let your wings spread. No more being forced to go to his lacrosse games. No more cramped car rides in the backseat where both of you would stomp on each other's toes and try to get more leg room. You were independent of him. You could do what you want, when you want, and Jungkook didn't have a single say.

Sure, you went a little wild your freshman year. Stayed out until 3-4 AM almost every night, spent many nights in guys' dorms, got a little too wasted at some parties and experienced a black out or two. But they was your lessons to learn, and no one was keeping you from learning them. You kept yourself moderately in check though. No bar fights, no spats with your professors. You couldn't care less what Jungkook was doing. Little nerd was probably skipping any party he was invited to, nose probably buried in his books. Mr. Perfect probably had too much school work to worry about you, either. Didn't matter how many tattoos he used to fill his new sleeve over the years, he was just as uncool as when he threw up in the touch tank during a summer camp field trip.

After you cleaned up your act a little more as university went on, getting the last late nights and parties out of your system, you had to work a little harder to bring your GPA up to par. You hadn't been flunking your classes first year or anything, but you had too many C's for your liking. If Jungkook were still hovering over your shoulder, he'd probably smack you on your head and force you to read the textbook front to back until you set the curve.

You'd see Jungkook in the library occasionally. He was never alone, always with friends. Go figure. Everyone just loooooved Jungkook his entire life. Those stupid big eyes and bunny teeth always made them suckers. He was always popular, getting along with everyone, gentlemanly and one of the bros, even in high school. You were the only one who saw past his facade, saw how nasty he could truly be. The real him.

No matter how much time had passed, you knew he was a resentful little snot underneath.

Neither of you would disturb each other's peace, though. You'd just share glances when you were both in the dining hall, or grunt when you passed by in the hallways. When each summer came around you'd both be too busy with your new groups of friends for your parents to even drag you back together, only the occasional family dinner forcing you at the same table. You two would barely acknowledge each other during it, your respective families filling the other in on the other's lives.

Jungkook made Dean's list. Big surprise.

You had a trip with a few girls during spring break. Big whoop.

You did your best to keep it to a minimal. The few words you did exchange alone were biting at best. You were enjoying your freedom from his annoying face, endless charisma, and perfect grades.

But then university came to an end, and both of you found yourselves moving back to your home town.

It was another dinner with your folks and his, and you were pretty sick of still having to live with your parents. After living separately from them for four years, something felt a little humiliating about being back under their roof. Sure, you could get an apartment, but it was so expensive in this area. You definitely weren't being paid enough to live on your own with your entry-level job, even at the apartments in the shadier areas.

"How's the apartment hunting going, sweetie?" Jungkook's mom asked, a saccharine smile on her lips. Joint dinners were something you were forced to go to again, now that you were back. Which meant having to see him a minimum of every weekend.

You shrugged, nudging at the piece of meat on your plate with your fork. "I dunno. I looked at another in Frazier—"

His mother gasped. "Frazier! Oh honey, no! You can't live there, that's such a bad part of town. You know, crime's gotten much worse since you kids have been gone. A young lady like yourself shouldn't be living there alone." As if a lightbulb went off in her head, her eyes danced to Jungkook, who was busy devouring the steak your dad had helped cook. "Say, Kook, sweetheart, how's your search been going?"

"Hm?" He did his best to swallow down whatever meat was still in his mouth. You dipped your spoon in the peas, eating them and you prepared for him to drone on about whatever success he inevitably found. "It's, uh, hard. Not a lot of studio apartments that are exactly affordable."

No surprise there.

While you had immediately entered the main workforce for a low tier job after graduation, Jungkook had moved up to continuing grad school, which meant he only had the availability for part-time. It wasn't a surprise he was strapped for cash.

"Say," your dad started, "I have an idea."

Oh no. Oh no no no. You knew exactly where this was leading.

"What if Y/N and Jungkook get an apartment together?"

No!

Your mother clapped her hands, eyes lit up with delight at the prospect. "Oh that sounds like a wonderful idea! It'd be perfect. I normally wouldn't be a fan of the idea of Y/N living with a man, but Jungkook—"

"Mom," you choked on your peas, slamming your fist down on your chest to try and get them to go down. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Oh hush now, you've been complaining for months about having to live with us. Besides, Jungkook can keep an eye on you and make sure you're not up to any trouble," your mother scolded.

"This would be perfect! You two can split the rent. Much better than living with strangers," his mother joined in. Clearly their minds were already made up.

You glanced to Jungkook, eyes pleading for once as you waited for his disapproval. He ignored you, though, shrugging before taking another bite of steak. "Sure. We can talk about it alone later."

You wanted your chair to sink into the Earth and swallow you whole, then and there.

—

Jungkook closed the door to his childhood bedroom, hands in his pockets as he turned to you. Dinner had been at his parents' tonight, with your dads grilling the steaks and your moms picking out the wine. Your eyes scoured the room you were all too familiar with, the same old lacrosse posters and gaming equipment you were used to. You wanted to find some form of mess. An open ramen cup, strewn about clothes, anything to give you an excuse that living with Jeon Jungkook was an impossible, terrible proposition. Perfect as he was though, everything was clean as a whistle, far more organized than your own abode.

"This is a terrible idea, isn't it? We should just go down there and tell them we absolutely cannot, right?" You laughed it away, glancing to Jungkook for confirmation.

He doesn't seem so amused, though. "I dunno. I've been looking to move out for a while, honestly."

Your eyes widened with disbelief. "You aren't seriously considering this, are you?"

"Why not? It seems practical," he shrugged. A sly grin started to form on his lips. "Don't tell me you're scared of living with a man, Y/N."

Your face twisted into a scowl. "Ugh, I can't stand you. You're hardly a man, anyways. I mean, c'mon, space themed comforter? Really?"

"You still have those glowing star stickers on your ceiling."

"Those—" You snap your fingers at him, taking a step closer. "—are for nostalgia."

"And mine aren't?"

"We can't even stand being in the same room together for five minutes!" You feel yourself regressing back into a teenager, as though you were on fire whenever Jungkook was in your vicinity. "How're we supposed to live together in a tiny, cramped apartment?"

"What, you can't even pretend to act like an adult?" He quirked a condescending brow at you.

You felt your face heat up at his words. "I can." You crossed your arms, groveling. "Are you just desperate to live with me all of the sudden?"

He scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. I just don't want to live with a stranger. My first dorm I got randomly assigned a roommate, and it did not go well. At least I know there aren't any surprises that come with you."

Your jaw dropped. "You really are considering this."

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his arms crossing too, now. "Are you?"

Your mind spun as you gave it some serious thought. Jungkook was definitely a lot cleaner than most men you knew. And he typically was lights out by midnight, which meant no keeping you up, and you knew he was a heavy enough sleeper for you to be able to roam about in the late hours without waking him up. Hell, with him being an early riser and you being a night owl, you might hardly see each other. Besides, it's been years since the two of you would constantly go at it. More than now. Maybe you could mature into being civilized, well mannered adults. Mainly you, but still.

"Lets set up some ground rules first," you said. "No messes in shared spaces."

"Duh."

"And no leaving the bathroom seat up!" No doubt that the best you two could afford would be a two bedroom, one bathroom situation.

"Fine." Jungkook tilted his head. "Any other requests, princess?"

You glowered at the stupid pet name, wanting to wither him on the spot with your glare. "How often do you bring people over?"

A slow smile curls on his lips again. "Oh, well isn't that personal?"

"Ew not like that! Ugh, I don't even want to think about you doing that." You shook the thought from your head. "How often do you have friends over?"

The smile was still plastered on his face. "Oh, none spend the night if that's what your worried about. And we'll keep it down."

"Your friends," you emphasized.

"I was talking about my friends." He laughed at your expression. "You should get your mind out of the gutter."

Your mouth parted in surprise. "I wasn't— oh my god, you're so infuriating! Just don't have your friends yelling in the living room past 1 AM, got it? I will have no problem shouting at them to keep it down." You rolled your eyes. "Like a nerd like you gets laid anyways."

"Are you worried now?"

You guffaw at the accusation. "Me? Worried? For what, you? Please. You ended up having to take me to homecoming, remember?"

"Yeah, because our parents wanted us too. It's not like I wasn't asked." That was news to you. "And how often are you planning to bring people over?"

"Occasionally."

"Then you make sure they keep it down by 11 PM, and we'll have no problem."

Your brows furrowed. "11? Even on weekends? I was being generous with you, old man. What, don't tell me you fall asleep at 9 usually?"

"Calling me old when you're the older one?" He laughed. "That's right, I forget with how childish you act."

That really made your face burn. You slap the wall next to you, frustrated. "You make it so hard to like you sometimes."

"The feeling's mutual." He meets your gaze, eyes narrowed. "Think you're up for acting like an adult for once in your life? Or do you still want to be coddled by Mommy and Daddy?"

You glared at him, the scowl now permanently etched on your face as your hand slid down the wall. "Fine," you huffed. "Let's do this."

—

Finding an apartment ended up being much easier now that you were going off of two budgets. Sure, most of the realtors that were helping you thought you two were a couple, and you were both adamant and offended each time you were accused. That was annoying. Plus you'd bicker like a married couple the entire process. This area isn't safe enough for him, this apartment was too far of a commute for you, so on and so forth.

Finally, though, the two of you came to an agreement on a nice two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. It wasn't the biggest, and you'd have absolutely no luck avoiding Jungkook in these cramped quarters, but it was affordable and got you out of your parents' place at least. It had a gym facility for Jungkook to apparently use, and it was very close to a convenience shop, which you liked.

Living with Jungkook had some ups and downs. You had to spend more on groceries now because Jungkook ate like it was a competition, and yet he still had the nerve to scold you when you stole some of his snacks. He shouldn't need the sweets anyways, with how often he was apparently at the gym downstairs. If anything you were looking out for him by making sure he doesn't undo whatever progress he's making. One plus was that he was a neat freak. Anything you left in the living room would end up being organized neatly, and he had a much better eye for interior decoration than you would've suspected looking at his childhood bedroom.

Living with a man wasn't all that bad.

Until you were reminded he was a man.

He came back into the apartment, grunting when he saw you on your laptop at the kitchen counter. You didn't even grunt back a response, glancing at him briefly before you were left taken aback.

Jungkook had just gotten back from the gym, drenched in sweat and wearing a tight, black compression shirt that left little to the imagination. When had he gotten so buff? He usually only wore hoodies in the house, how had you not noticed? You remembered being so annoyed when his growth spurt hit and he began to tower over you, but now he was... wider. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow. It was as though he were shaped like a Dorito chip. The shirt was damn sinful, too. You could practically make out every muscle and line of his abs. Since when had he had tits? They were massive! Surely the shirt was doing all the work. Surely he wasn't built like a pro boxer. You had seen him during countless family trips to the beach. Even when he was at his most active at lacrosse in high school, he was a skinny twerp that could barely hold you up enough to throw you into the water, ruining your hair.

And the sweat. The way his hair was plastered to his forehead, the beads of sweat trickling down his neck and into the shirt. His biceps that seemed too big to be contained by such tiny material, bulging and tensing as he raised the water bottle to his lips and took greedy gulps, Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat.

Thank God he was wearing sweats at least, because now you were wondering if his thighs were secretly the size of tree trunks, threatening to squeeze and pop whatever was in between. Since when had his body transformed into being exactly your type?

It suddenly dawned on you that Jungkook was, in fact, possibly attractive. Not that you were attracted to him personally, no way.

"Why're you so quiet?"

You're snapped out of your trance, your eyes flitting back to Jungkook's as he gives you a suspicious glare, done with his water.

"Oh, um..." That's right, you usually had some nasty comment to say whenever he got back home. "B-Back from the gym?"

"Obviously," he snorted, stepping forward to lean against the countertop, sliding away his water bottle. Fuck, don't look at his tits again, don't look at his biceps as he leans on his elbows! Don't look at every vein that's popping out beneath his skin, like he's a mosquitos wet dream! "Wouldn't kill you to go now and then, you know."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm already blessed with a perfect body, thank you very much."

His hard stare continued, watching as you tried to shirk your gaze away from his impeccable form. "Is something up?"

"No! Just... need a distraction." You huffed under your breath. "Clearly."

"Distraction, huh?" A small smirk appeared. "My friend Taehyung wants me and some of the other guy to go out clubbing tonight."

"You club?" You had a hard time imagining Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes out partying, but you were having a hard time imagining anything besides what was beneath that shirt at the moment.

"Yeah. You can come if you want. Though I'm sure you'd much rather—"

"Sure, why not." You couldn't stand the thought of Jungkook bringing a girl home tonight and having to listen. And looking like that? It was bound to happen. The impossible now seemed very possible, you were going to cock-block even if it killed you.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really?"

"Sure, it's been a while since I went out. I need a distraction anyways." You shut your laptop closed and stretched, needing to close your eyes for a second to make it easier to not ogle your roommate. "Unless there's a problem with that?"

"No! No, I just... wasn't expecting you to say yes, that's all." He lifted from the countertop and pulled out a towel next to his water bottle, rubbing the sheen of sweat off his neck much to your dismay. "We usually go out at 10, that cool?"

"Isn't that a bit past your bedtime?" You chuckled at the thought. "Sure you can get your morning run in?"

"I'll get my cardio in one way or another," he said before slinking off.

Now that you didn't like to hear.

—

Jungkook's friends were nice enough, three guys about your age named Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok.

They were all attractive, same level as Jungkook, and you tried to think back to all of those friends you used to spot Jungkook with at university. Were they all in the same league, the way attractive people tend to hang out with their own kind, leaving you uggos to your own devices to stare up at them in awe? Did everyone know Jungkook was hot except you? Were you just an idiot who had been blinded by knowing him before Acutane and Invisalign?

They all treated you cordially, and when Taehyung made a sly comment he was quickly scolded by Jungkook, who said, "Don't even think about it."

Pity, Taehyung was pretty hot. You wouldn't mind taking him for a ride if you weren't going to be preoccupied making sure Jungkook didn't see any action.

Perfect Jungkook agreed to be the DD of the night for you, thankfully. You had never seen him drunk before, and part of you was admittedly disappointed you wouldn't get to see it tonight. What kind of drunk was he? Giggly, happy drunk? Angry, loud mouthed drunk? Nah, that definitely didn't fit.

Horny drunk?

Maybe it was a good thing he was the one driving.

The club was loud, as expected, with bodies on bodies pressed against each other closer to the DJ booth. Jungkook leaned in to your ear so you could hear him, and you got a hearty whiff of his cologne. Fuck, it reminded you of the Abercrombie and Fitch scent you used to be obsessed with in middle school. How did it still have this effect? "Are you wanting to drink or dance already?"

You watched as Hoseok and Jimin wove their way into the crowd, disappearing from sight. "I think I'll need a drink first."

"That's fine. Just catch me in there." He doesn't say another word before he followed after his friends, leaving you behind. Whatever. You looked around for Taehyung, wondering where he had wandered off to, to no avail. Dejected and temporarily thrown off the tracks of Mission: Cock-Block Jungkook, you make your way to the bar. It isn't until a lemon drop is in front of you that you feel a hand on your shoulder.

You turned around, a red-faced, drunken girl greeting you with a cheesy smile. "Oh my God, did you walk in here with Jungkook?"

"Er— yes? Are you his friend?"

She leaned in harder against you, and you feel the heat from the alcohol off her. "Oh my God, define friend? Ha, no, we just hooked up once."

Your ears perked up at that. Hooked up? She had slept with Jungkook? Jungkook actually got down like that? "Oh... really?"

"Really!" She beamed. Her eyes went wide as she stared at you. "Are you sleeping with him too?"

"No, no, I—" Before you could correct her that you had never slept with Jungkook and surely never would, she interjected.

"Girl, you need to get ooooon that!" She giggled, snapping her fingers at the bartender for his attention, digging around in her purse for her card. "Excuse me, Mr. Bartender! Can we get two green tea shots over here?" She plopped down on the seat next to you, scooting in closer. "When I tell you it was the best dick of my lifeeee girlfriend, you better believe it."

You were suddenly so glad that this oversharing, drunk mess was giving you such valueable intel. You felt like a spy, gathering information on the enemy through sly thinking and a silver tongue. Granted, anything would probably sound cool to her in the state she was in. And you didn't even try, but who were you to deny blackmail material? You could always ues a leg up on Jungkook. You leaned on one elbow, suddenly incredibly intrigued. "Oh really?" You smiled as best you could. "You're kidding."

"No way!" The two shots slid before you. "He's got like, a third leg, I'm telling you!"

"I want all of the details." Normally you wouldn't want to hear a thing about Jungkook's sex life, but this opportunity had fallen right into your lap. Who were you not to take it? Plus, your mind was still spinning with thoughts of him in his compression tee, and the fact he even went clubbing in the first place. Suddenly you were more than curious to know about every aspect of Jungkook you had been missing out on.

"Take the shot with me and I'll tell you everything!"

You couldn't say no to that, and anything for the mission. Glasses up, and you felt the sharp burn travel down your throat and into the pit of your stomach. Bringing your face back to neutral, you turned to your new friend. "Spill."

"Ok, so," she leaned in closer, mouth next to your ear. "We hooked up in the bathroom here like a year— wait, was it two years?— ago. Oh my god, when I tell you, I'd do anything for another go. Unfortunately I've got this situationship with a guy named Jake— don't ever go for guys with J names, I'm telling you, they'll fuck you up."

"Like Jungkook?" You tried to get her back on track.

"Oh he'd be in a good way!" She laughed. "I don't know actually. It was a one night thing. Never even got his number. Can you give it to me? Wait. Never mind. Jake wouldn't like that."

"I don't know, bathroom fucks don't sound the greatest." Damn did she seem to wander in conversation.

"Oh my God, I know right? Usually it's so nasty— but girl, when I tell you, he was nastier. He was an absolute freak!" She sighed, tapping on her empty shot glass and waving to the bartender again for refills. "I wish Jake were that freaky sometimes. I mean, he tries, but still."

"What do you mean, freak?" Jungkook? A freak? The dude probably was as vanilla as you could get! You remembered when your moms gave you the talk together, and how red his face got.

Her eyes lit up. "Absolute freak! Fucking rough, in all the right ways. It's so hard to come across big dick that's actually good, y'know? Like humongous, like, girth of a coke can, almost! I felt like I was going to die choking on that, y'know what I mean? And the mouth on him, Jesus!"

"Good to know he reciprocates, I guess," you shrugged, reaching for your new green tea shot as it was placed in front of you. This girl was a blessing in disguise spilling these nasty details to a stranger, but it was so much you definitely needed more liquor to get through it.

"Oh girl, he reciprocates. And that boy is a talker." She downed her shot, and you did the same. "I've never heard a guy talk like that outside of porn."

You felt like your heard was about to explode. Jungkook, a yapper in bed? The most you had ever heard a guy say was "Do you like that, baby?" To which you'd simply nodded and checked the time to see if you'd be able to make it home in time to binge your TV show. Jungkook couldn't even say the word "fuck" until he was 14. What on Earth had he been spewing?

"This sounds a bit hard to believe." You felt your cheeks warm up, knowing a rosy flush would soon overtake your face.

"I don't blame you. But I am giving out the recommendation," she snickered. "He's a bit mean though, fair warning. I thought he would be all sweet but, boy, did he throw me for a loop!"

"Mean how?"

She asked the bartender for another refill and nudged the shot to you. You were a little hesitant. One lemon drop and three shots already in such a short amount of time? You hadn't drunk like this in years.

"C'mon, last round I promise! It's all on me. All of my roommates are so sick of me talking about it again and again all this time. They heard all the juicy deets over and over again. They said if I mention it even one more time they're locking me out of my apartment. But good dick is so hard to come by, of course anyone would obsess over it!" She huffed, sliding the glass closer to you. "And you're soooo pretty. You deserve good dick. We all do."

Well, a free drink is a free drink.

You took the last shot, the buzz amplifying as you felt yourself loosen up and relax more. The burn in the pit of your stomach encouraged your endeavor. You looked at the girl, her pretty face squealing with delight as she felt the alcohol course through her veins. "Where are your friends, anyways?"

"Oh, I'm here with Abby, but she's over there sucking face." She pointed behind her, and lo and behold, you finally figured out where Taehyung had went.

"Oh, I know that guy."

"Do you? Is he nice?"

"I can't really say, honestly. I don't know him that well. He's one of Jungkook's friends." You circled your finger around the rim of the glass, eyeing her. "How mean are we talking?"

Her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Evil."

A tattooed hand appeared from behind you, and you spun around to see Jungkook's sweaty form. Your newly discovered weakness. Now-Drunk-You was barely keeping it together enough to keep Sober-You's dignity intact. He looked too damn good in his dark jeans, white tank, and black jacket. The silver chain he often wore only brought your attention to his sweaty neck. Your mind was flooded with the new information you had received, and you couldn't help but laugh in his face out of the sheer ridiculousness of it and nervousness.

He cocked his head to the side, studying your face. His eyes darted between the empty glasses and your lidded eyes. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Oh, pshh, this is nothing. I used to do this all the time." You slid the glasses further away from you, as though that would hide the evidence. "I believe you know my new friend, here."

Your friend waved her hand, giggling. "Hiiii Jungkook."

He gave her a warm smile. Not one that said he had railed her in a nearby bathroom, apparently. Maybe she had made everything up? Gotten your Jungkook mixed up with some sex deity you desperately needed to meet? "Hi Layla."

"Met your new girl, here. She's fun!"

"She's my roommate," Jungkook corrected, and for some reason you didn't like it. Was he interested in hooking up with Layla again? She clearly was down.

Layla looked at you, eyes widened. "Roommate? Girl, I could never! How do you—"

You interrupted her, not wanting her to finish her sentence. It wasn't one you trusted yourself to answer honestly at the moment. Instead you pointed to where Taehyung and Abby were. "Look, your friend is busy sucking face with her friend."

"So he is," Jungkook hummed, eyes diverting back to you. "You all good?"

"Yeah, yeah!" You tried to focus on him. His pretty eyes looked so concerned. You felt so much more affection toward him when you were drunk. You were tempted to pull him in by the chain and pinch his cheeks the way you did when you were kids. "Where have you been?"

"Dancing. I was waiting for you to join."

"Fiiine I'll come." You hopped up from your seat and turned to Layla. "Thank you so much for the drinks. It was lovely meeting you."

"Byeee girlfriend. If he doesn't take you home I will," she winked. You were tempted to take her up on that offer.

Without thinking you grabbed Jungkook's hand, pulling him into the crowd. Whether he was shocked by your action or not, you didn't know. You danced and held your arms up, feeling the alcohol loosen your movements and occasionally bumping into others. You eventually spied Jimin and Hoseok tearing it up on the dance floor, greeting you with cheerful smiles and hyping you up. You were drunk enough to welcome it, spinning around and cheering Jungkook on too as you spotted him moving along with the music.

He was actually doing pretty good, incorporating footwork and everything in the little dancing room he had. The most you were really able to do well was sway your hips to the beat.

"I didn't know you could dance!" When the two of you were forced to go to homecoming together he was always stepping on your toes. Granted, you stepped on his toes first, and on purpose, so perhaps he had only been doing it as a form of payback.

"Seems like there's a lot you don't know." God, his voice sounded so sexy right in your ear like that. You knew he didn't think anything of the forced proximity, it being a necessity with how loud the crowd and music was, but still. You were going weak at the knees.

You scoffed, almost to yourself. "Yeah... no kidding."

Unfortunately for many others, there was a very particular type of drunk you were. The wander-drunk. Before long you were finding the crowd suffocating to be in, and your heels were starting to give you blisters. Making your way upstairs to get a little bit more quiet, you crashed on one of the couches, the area much more vacant save for some people making out. Gross. You can't believe Jungkook hooked up here of all places. And in a nasty ass bathroom? Disgusting. Maybe he really was a horndog.

You shouldn't have been surprised when Jungkook followed after you, sitting down much too close for your mental well being.

You felt much friendlier to him now, giggling as you caught your breath and sticking your finger in his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against the tip. "Gonna follow me in the bathroom too?"

"Layla told you a lot, huh?"

"Pshh." You pull your finger back and looked away, not wanting to be reminded of everything she told you. "Girl's a yapper."

"What'd she tell you?"

You side-eyed him, a smirk creeping up on your lips. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

He rolled his eyes. "I would, in fact. Seems like it was about me."

"She saw us walk in together. Told me you two hooked up." You crossed your arms. "Told me a lot, actually."

He grinned. "All good things, I bet."

You felt your cheeks flare up further, and try to fight back the booze to keep your sanity in check. "Oh, that's what you assume, huh? She was telling me you sucked, actually."

"Now I know for a fact she didn't say that."

You faced him, brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

He shrugged, that smug ass grin on his face only spreading wider. "I just do."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, and roll your eyes you did. "God, you men are all the same. You think your dick is gold and it's the best anyone ever had, and you're just a god in bed! Most of you guys can't even find the clit with GPS. You know most women fake it, right? Just to get it over with?"

He chuckled a little. "I've never had a girl fake it, trust me."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Little Jeon Jungkook was actually bragging about his sex prowess, right to your face. You glared at him, leaning closer to see if you could scrutinize the lies coming out of his mouth.

"Bullshit." You shook your head, trying not to let your imagination wander. "Every girl fakes it at some point. Statistically it had to happen with you, especially if you're having random hookups at a club of all places."

"Why, have you faked it?"

"Duh." You said it as though it were obvious.

Jungkook let out a breath of air at that. "You know what, makes a lot of sense, actually."

You shot up at that, feeling offended for some reason. "Excuse you?"

He side-eyed you, a knowing look on his face. "Why you're so uptight. You've never gotten good dick before, have you?"

You felt as though someone had shot you, only able to look at him with a stunned, paralyzed expression. Who was this man, and what had he done with the dweeby, goody, Jeon Jungkook you had known for over two years?

"Are you drunk?" you blurted out, shocked that he was speaking so brazenly about this.

"No. I'm DD, remember?" His hand came up to touch your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palm. The action seemed so tender, so intimate. "You're pretty tipsy, though, it seems."

You can't decide if you want to lean in or jolt away from his touch, seemingly frozen. "I'm... a little drunk."

He snickered a bit at that. "I'm sure. What's going on in that head of yours?"

You realized you must've still looked stunned. "I might say something I'll regret."

That seemed to take him by surprise. He cocked his head, confused. "Why would you regret it?"

Because it would mean throwing away years of pride over a moment that will inevitably seem so embarrassingly stupid in the morning.

You quickly leaned back out of his touch, not wanting him to feel more blood rush to your cheeks. "I-I don't know. I always say stupid shit when drunk."

"You say stupid shit when sober, too," he laughed. "Besides, drunk words are sober thoughts."

You couldn't let your drunk words or sober thoughts let him know how badly you wanted to find out if Layla had been telling the truth or not. That he was an absolute freak. With a huge cock that he knew how to use. Who spewed nasty shit in her ear as he railed her in some dirty club bathroom. That he was super fucking mean... apparently. Not that it interested you.

Your mouth instead opened and closed like a fish, unable to process the moment or what you wanted to say that would not end in your horrific demise.

Were you actually wanting Jungkook? No, no way. Layla had gotten into your head, plied you with booze, and sent you to a possible metaphorical wolf. Your drunk mouth could not be trusted at this moment.

Jungkook brushed a lock from your face, puzzled as to what had you so silent for once. He figured when drunk you'd be spilling your guts out about any and everything, just like Layla. "Are you wanting to go home already?"

You were tempted to say no, as going home with Jungkook would mean you were alone together, and you weren't in a state to not jump on him. But then you remembered your sole reason for being here, and since the club was apparently a dangerous place for Jungkook to find pussy, it was probably best you called it a night to end any possibility of him getting laid. For your own sake of getting sleep, of course. Not for your sanity or anything.

You nodded, following Jungkook downstairs as he told his friends you were both heading home (despite their protests), and helping you into the car. Your walk wasn't nearly as straight, though the heels weren't helping, and you were looking a lot more drunk than you had initially thought. Jungkook buckled your seatbelt for you, and you couldn't help but stare him as he sang softly to the music on the radio, the city lights flashing across his face as he drove you two home.

You couldn't stop ogling at him, and blatantly at that. His tatted fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he drove with one hand. His thighs were spread like a meal before you, and you couldn't help but let your gaze zero in on his crotch. Was his dick really as big as Layla said? Nearly the girth of a coke can? How was that possible? She was definitely exaggerating. And he was mean? How mean? You never had a thing for nice guys, and Jungkook was about as nice as they come. Not usually that nice to you, but still. You couldn't imagine him saying anything meaner than what he already says when you're in one of your spats with him. And during sex? What could he possibly say?

How were you being bombarded with all this new information? You knew everything about him. He liked to eat boiled eggs without eating the yolks. He used to be able to belch the alphabet in your ear just to piss you off. How did you not know he had a tree trunk for a dick sitting between his legs? You squint at the crotch of his jeans, wondering if you could make out an outline of a bulge beneath the fabric.

Fuck, you weren't going to stop thinking about this. What would it be like to suck him off... hypothetically speaking? Layla overshared she was practically choking on him. Was he a head pusher? Would he force you to take it down your throat, be super mean and degrading as he teased you for barely being able to fit him? Would he be even meaner to get back at you for all the trouble you had caused him over the years? Would he laugh as he watched you cry, trying to force yourself down to the base to please him? What would he sound like when the tip finally hit the back of your throat? Would he whimper or let out a deep groan? Would he trap your head between his bulging thighs to keep you locked on him until your eyes rolled back and you ran out of air?

Fuck fuck fuck! Your mind was being filled with all the possibilities. You couldn't be thinking about this! Absolutely not! You hated Jungkook. You knew him forever, how you could you be thinking about sucking his dick? How could you be thinking, at this very moment, of possibly begging him to let you have a taste of it and suck him off in the car just so you could get it out of your system?

Absolutely not! The sheer thought of him knowing that was absolutely mortifying!

"What're you staring at?"

Your eyes popped back up to Jungkook's, who was giving you a sideways glance, his humming ceased.

"Your jeans," you stammered out, trying to act cool.

"What about them?"

"...They're ugly. Burn them. " That was a lie, they looked scarily good on him. Let you see how thick his thighs really were. It was the best you could come up with, though. Better than the "take them off" that was about to spew from your lips.

Jungkook grunted, looking back at the road. "'Course you'd say that. Guess you're sobering up. That's good at least."

You let out a breath at your quick save, forcing yourself to look at the road too. You were just drunk and having silly horny thoughts, clearly. This was nothing. You were sure that when morning came you'd have all thoughts of Jungkook being anything other than a pest out of your mind.

—

You kneeled before Jungkook, a whimper on your lips as he cockily smirked down at you, legs spread on the sofa chair to accommodate your space between them. He looked like a king, leaning back and tilting his head with a teasing expression. Like he knew exactly what you wanted, and now he was just dangling the carrot on the stick, tormenting you.

"C'mon, say it again."

You swallowed hard, eyes flying between his tantalizing crotch and his wicked expression. "Can I..." You licked your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. "Can I please suck your dick?"

"Oh? You wanna suck it?" He laughed cruelly, shaking his head. "Why should I let you? You've been nothing but a bitch to me for years."

"I know, I just," you took in a sharp breath. "Just need it. I can't stop thinking about it. Need to get it out of my system."

"Hm, I'm not sure." He cocked his head to the side, considering it. His eyes scanned your pathetic state in front of him. "Shouldn't give brats what they want. Might give them the wrong idea."

"Please! At least... at least let me see it." You stared at his crotch ravenously, curiosity eating at you. Maybe even a glimpse would be enough to satiate you and put the issue to bed. Quietly, you asked, "Please let me see it?"

"Mmm, you sound so sweet when you beg. You're so nice when you want something."

You nodded furiously, desperate for anything he can give you. "I'll be good. I promise. I'll do whatever you want."

"Yeah? I don't feel like being nice to you, though, princess. Think you can handle that?"

Your mouth began to water, watching his legs spread a little wider. "Yes, I want it. Want you to be mean."

"You gonna choke on it?"

Nod.

"You wanna gag and drool all over yourself while you do it?"

You sharply inhaled. "Yes, please."

"I'm real big, princess. You sure you know what you're signing up for?"

"Yes! Please please please just let me suck your dick. I can't take it any more!" You felt like you were going to cry already from his teasing.

He smirked, shaking his head with disbelief at your desperation. You had no idea what you just signed up for. "Hm, if you say so. Go ahead and take it out, then."

You shuffled closer between his legs all too eagerly, mouth now watering with the thought of being able to finally taste him. With shaky hands you reached up for his zipper, tugging down the same jeans you had called hideous. Yanking down the Calvin Klein briefs, you almost jumped back as his cock sprung to life in front of your face, far bigger than you had anticipated or ever taken before. He was huge, with a dick that looked like it should only exist in brutal porn links on Twitter.

"Mm, don't be shy, baby." Jungkook tangled his hands in your hair, roughly pulling you closer to it. He stroked his cock a bit, smacking it against your lips and cheeks, laughing at how you screwed your eyes shut and tried to turn away. He didn't let you, keeping you in place as he further degraded you. "Don't run from it. Begged so much to even see it. Are you going to choke on it like you promised?"

You nodded, taking it in your hands, surprised when your fingertips barely meet. Layla was right about his girth, and you couldn't help but feel a sting between your legs at the mere prospect of it. You give out a small kitten lick at the tip, circling your tongue around it and looking up at him for approval.

He seemed almost... bored, looking at you with an unimpressed expression. "C'mon, is that all you've got? You're putting me to sleep here."

Determined, you opened your mouth and took him in, trying to run your tongue along the underside of his cock as you took the first few inches in your mouth.

He cocked his head to the side, his face still the same. "You're still not impressing me, princess."

You took him in further, bobbing your head as you slowly lowered an inch or two more, feeling him fill up your throat. You quickened your pace, spit coating the shaft of his cock as you used your other hands to twist up and down the base where your lips weren't meeting, trying to milk the cum out. You tasted the pre-cum from the tip of his dick, and moaned at the taste, delighted. Choking on him, you buried your head as close to his groin as you could before popping back up for air, taking in greedy gasps before diving back in on his dick. You pumped furiously, now only needing one hand as you sunk your mouth deeper and deeper on him, already gagging as you tried to get the tip to reach the back of your throat.

You typically prided yourself on your head, but Jungkook was proving to be a real challenge.

"Mm, that's it. You're fucking dick-hungry, aren't you? Been obsessing over this, huh? Desperate little slut."

You looked up at him with watery eyes as you suctioned your lips, your tongue moving underneath as you tried to stroke him along with the rest of your mouth. He gave a slight smirk, as though amused by the sight of you making a mess of yourself on his dick. Your spit was running down to your hand and his shaft, down his balls and over his lap into the cushions. It also dribbled down your face, running down your chin and coating the white top you wore until it was near transparent, giving him a clear view of your tits beneath. You didn't care, though, repeatedly bobbing your head to go deeper, prying yourself off to gather your breath before going in for more, as though his dick were more important than air. It absolutely was.

He chuckled at your struggle. "You just couldn't resist a big dick, huh? You really are so easy."

You gagged around him, your throat constricting as your hands grabbed onto his thighs, holding you in place as you tried to get your nose to reach his pelvis. He grunted, hand tightening in your hair and making your scalp sting with delicious pain.

"You're so cute like this. But you're still not quite there." He flashed his teeth, canines glinting in the light. "Do you need some help?"

Without waiting for your answer he pushed your head down, forcing his cock to spear into the back of your throat and pressing your nose against him. Your lips suctioned around the base as you gagged around him more, chin against his balls as he finally forced you to take all of him in. You gagged again, and he moaned at the feeling of your throat spasming around the tip and shaft of his cock, a deep groan leaving his lips as he felt you struggle around him. You blinked the tears up away as you looked up at him pleadingly, and you felt his dick twitch inside of your mouth.

"Fuuuck that's it, now you're being a good slut." He let your mouth rise a few inches before slamming down again, enjoying the feeling of you choking on him, your nails scratching against his denim-clad thighs, unable to get a good grip. "Knew this dumb mouth was good for something. Just needed to be filled."

His ass lifted from the seat as he pushes his hips further into your face, meanly circling his hips to stretch your lips out, laughing as you gagged at the sensation. You felt like your mouth was going to split at the corners with his girth. "Maybe with enough training you can be a good cock-sucking whore. I might actually wanna use this hole again."

He yanked you off his cock, a string of spit connecting the tip to your lips as you gasped and sputtered, chest heaving as you tried desperately to fill your lungs.

"That's enough air." You didn't get enough warning before he's slamming his cock down your throat again, rubbing your face into his lap from side to side to make sure he can feel the walls of your throat properly. Your nails raked down his thighs again as he buried himself as deep as possible in you, wanting you to feel every inch that he forced you to take. Jungkook laughed again, holding eye contact with your determined glare. "What's that look for? You were so desperate for it earlier. Begged for a taste."

Jungkook pulled you back by the hair again, enjoying the sight of your mascara running down your face already from the tears, your shirt covered in drool. His cock was shiny from spit, twitching and beckoning to you for more. Your face was flushed from the lack of air, and you were breathing hard, glaring up at him. He tilted his head, hand detangling from your hair to grab your spit covered chin, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at his amused gaze. He gathered the spit from your chin, letting it spread out on his palm before cruelly rubbing your face with it, smearing your makeup and humiliating you further. "You're just so cute. Are you giving up already?"

"No." You were barely able to cough it out, your voice raspy from your throat being used.

"Aw, you look so determined." He mocked you with a belittling pout. He pulled your face under his cock and pressed your lips against his balls, shoving your head in with a rough push. "Suck."

You took one of his balls in your mouth, licking at the sack and sucking one into your mouth, roving your tongue over it. His cock rested against your face, and his hand returned to the back of your head, forcing you to breathe him in as you licked away.

"Fuck, that's it, give them attention too. Good sluts don't forget." With his spare hand he reached for his dick, stroking it with the newly-added lubrication of your spit, his hand twisting much like yours had. His fist repeatedly hit the top of your head as he jerked his cock, like he was trying to force your face to press deeper and lower against his balls. "You like being beneath me? This is where you belong. Sucking my dick like you're meant for it. Can't bitch at me with that bratty mouth now."

You lapped at him more eagerly, wanting to convey how much you agreed. He snickered at that.

"You're such a good slut. Maybe you can become one of my favorites. Would you like that?" He stood up now, shoving down the rest of his pants and underwear and stepping out of them, dragging you by the hair to straighten your back and keep your face level with his cock. He smacked your mouth with his palm, as though he were trying to wake you up. "Open."

You obediently did so, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. Jungkook slapped the tip against it a few times, smirking at how obedient you were to his every command. He plunged back inside, slamming his hips back against your face. The man was so forceful, so rough, using you like you were nothing more than a sex toy for him to spill his load into. And you loved it. God, you loved it. The way heat was churning up in your belly with each passing grunt that left his lips, or that deep groan every time he bottomed out into your throat, forcing you to nuzzle your chin against his balls to take him impossibly deeper? It was heaven, unreal actually. You couldn't help but press your thighs together, desperate for relief, knowing you were creaming in your panties right now.

"You fucking like being used. Wanted be my whore so bad. So fucking desperate for a taste and to gag on my dick— you're fucking pathetic." He fell back on the chair, taking you with him as you continued to sputter around him, the walls of your throat massaging his cock and pushing him closer to the edge. "Can't believe you get off on this. Just another slut for me to use, huh? Gave me all that attitude because you wanted me to fuck you stupid like the whore you are, isn't that right? Just needed a fat fucking cock to choke on."

Jungkook wrapped his legs around your head, bulging, muscular thighs squeezing around your throat as he crossed his calves and pulled you closer, trapping you at the base of his cock with nowhere to go. Your lips suctioned around the base, drool dripping out from the corners of your lips as you salivated on him. He pulled your head up and down, only letting you up an inch as you gurgled over his cock over and over again, the sloppy, lewd sounds loud and pornographic. Your eyes started to roll back, blood rushing to your face as he choked you with his thighs and his dick, his smug, shit-eating grin being the only thing you could see now.

"Fuuuck, you might actually make me cum. Who knew a brain-dead slut like you could actually be good at something?" His mean laugh echoed in your ears as he used both hands tangled in your locks to guide you, your throat nothing to a fleshlight to repeatedly squeeze around him now. You were starting to get light headed, the edges of your vision darkening. "Gonna ruin you. You're so obsessed with my dick already it's pathetic. Would let me do anything, I bet. Just begged me to use you like you were actually mine, fuck."

You felt yourself going weak, vision tunneling in on Jungkook as he held you down as deep as he could, nose smashed against his pelvis, pre-cum flowing down your spasming throat as you did your best to swallow around him. Your eyes were now actually rolling back as Jungkook suffocated you on his cock, all of your senses being filled with only him, lashes fluttering as your eyes began to shut, your consciousness slipping away.

At the very last second he pulled you off of him, and your legs were jelly, unable to support yourself as you crumbled onto the floor. Oxygen practically slammed back into your lungs, your dotted vision slowly reappearing as Jungkook climbed over you, thighs straddling either side of your head as he stroked his glistening cock in front of your face. He bit his lip, gnawing at the flesh as he jerked quicker and quicker, watching you pant and writhe beneath him, looking already so, so broken.

He ran his hand through his hair, a breathless smile on his face as he admired his work so far. "Fuck, if I knew you were this slutty from the get go I would've fucked your mouth the first day we moved in. Probably sooner."

Jungkook pressed his cock against your face, pressing his palm down on it so you could feel the full length of him against your cheek and forehead. His cock was so big that his balls rested on your chin and his tip reached above your hairline. He rolled his hips, humping against you, watching the spit on his cock further rub in and ruin your makeup, your mascara having tracked its way down your cheeks already. The act felt so humiliating, and his eyes lit up with sadistic pleasure as he watched you whimper at the feeling.

"Mm, you're so pretty like this. Give it a kiss. Show how grateful you are to be used by me."

You tilted your head slightly, pressing your lips against the shaft to give it a small kiss, wanting to curl in on yourself as his demeaning laugh reached your ears. You felt so ashamed, and yet so excited, like you yourself were wondering how far he could push past your limits.

"You're such a little freak," he whispered, watching you close your eyes and part your lips at the sensation of him getting off using your face. You were lost in it. Lost in him, wanting nothing more than for him to use you for his own pleasure. "Nasty little slut. Meant to be broken. What happened to all that attitude, baby? I didn't even have to fuck it out of you, did I? Just had to stuff my dick in this bratty mouth of yours to make you finally shut the fuck up."

You weakly nodded, missing his warmth as he pulled back to let his dick hover above you again, his big hand twisting and jerking around it as he stroked himself to completion. You reached your hands up to wrap around him, wanting to help him finish, but he slapped them away, pinning them above your head and stroking faster. You whined at his restriction, his smirk cruel as he watched you suffer from your helplessness, unable to touch him any more.

"Tell me who you belong to," he moaned, gaze hard on your face as though that would pin you to the floor more than his hand. "Tell me whose slut you are, who gets to use you from now on."

"You," you gasped. "You, Jungkook."

"Good girl." His cock twitched, balls clenching as the first few spurts of cum escaped the tip, coating your face. His hand increased in speed, milking every last drop onto you, watching as you became covered in him. You tried to turn your face to the side, away from it, but he roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to feel every drop. "No running from it. This is what you begged for. You wanted to be owned."

Letting go of his length, he rubbed his spit-covered palm hard over your face, smearing the cum into the skin and already ruined makeup, making you into a further mess. He scooped some with his thumb to collect it and smear it across your lips, letting you finally get a proper taste. "You're mine now. Even when you hate me, you want me."

He stuck his cum-covered fingers into your mouth, letting you suck and hum with satisfaction. Jungkook smirked at your fucked-out expression, covered in his cum and absolutely ruined because of him. "You've never looked prettier than this, princess."

And then you came.

—

You shot upright in bed, covered in sweat, feeling it everywhere. On your forehead, down your back, between your thighs, truly everywhere. Your legs trembled and shook beneath the sheets as you quickly kicked them off, horrified of the wet spot you saw and felt beneath your shorts.

There was no way. There was absolutely no way you just came from a wet dream about sucking Jungkook's dick.

You jumped out, quickly yanking at the sheets as if you were getting rid of evidence of a dead body. You looked over to your clock. 4:32 AM. The alcohol had made you knock the fuck out as soon as you got home, but clearly it was also responsible for that fucked up dream you just had. Gathering the sheets in your arms, you quickly rushed towards the washer, mind spinning with images of that vivid dream you just had.

It felt so real. Every touch, every press of skin against skin, it felt like you could actually still feel it. Still-frames flashed across your mind. Jungkook's smug as smile as you begged for a taste of his cock. His thick thighs enveloping around your neck and squeezing, forcing you to take all of him. Him smearing his cum into your face after stroking his cock against it and marking you. His nasty, vile words as he degraded you the entire time.

How the fuck had your twisted mind come up with all of this imagery?

You dumped the sheets into the washer, pouring in some laundry detergent before turning it on. It was so fucking loud. You prayed Real-Jungkook hadn't been woken up by whatever moan or scream you had let out when you woke up from the wet dream. It was such a small apartment, he might even wake up from the sound of just the washer.

Your eyes slowly drifted towards his bedroom door, the wooden barrier taunting you with what you knew hid behind it.

You were so tempted to open it up, climb into Jungkook's bed and suck his dick for real this time.

No no no! Stop it! Your horny brain could not be trusted right ow, especially after a dream like that.

You had to do something about this. If you went to bed again who knew what sort of fucked up shit you'd dream up of the man you swore you hated for practically your entire life.

You searched in your room for any paper, but came up with nothing. You had rid yourself of most of your old materials pretty much immediately after graduating. It wasn't until you looked to the coffee table in the living room, at the neat stack of college-bound, spiral notebooks, that you found your solution. Jungkook always liked to study here, his gaming equipment taking up too much space his desk, and you knew the notebooks up top were the ones he used most recently and regularly. Surely he wouldn't mind you borrowing one of the older ones from a class he's already passed?

You reached for the bottom-most book and yanked it out, flipping through the pages of Jungkook's neat handwriting until you finally come across the first open page.

Grabbing a nearby pencil, listening to the racketing of your shitty ass washing machine, you began to write. While it's still fresh on your mind, you wrote down every sordid detail from beginning to end, letting your writing utensil fly across the page as you poured out every piece of imagery that flooded your mind and flooded between your legs. All of it, from how you begged to every nasty thing he did to you, from choking you between his thighs, rubbing his cum in your face, and suffocating you on his cock enough for you to almost pass out. You felt your blood finally start to simmer down to a much more manageable temperature with every letter, your coping strategies doing wonders for your cortisol levels.

It isn't until you scribble the very last part that you hear a door creak open.

Bleary eyed and sleepy, Jungkook stepped out, his brows furrowed as he sees you crouched in front of the coffee table. "What're you doing up?"

Your gaze flew to the clock on the microwave. 5 AM, Jungkook's usual wake up time. Figured even a night out wouldn't stop him from his typically routine.

Your eyes repeatedly darted between his face and the shorts he slept in, your mouth unconsciously watering despite yourself. Fuck, he looked so good with his mussed up bed head and lidded eyes. It didn't help that you had the image of Dream-Kook's dick seared in your brain, and you couldn't help but wonder how it compared to the real thing. Catching yourself, though, you force your eyes back on his face, not wanting to be caught blatantly staring the way you were last night.

"Oh, Jungkook! You're up early."

"I always get up at this time." His eyes narrowed, mind trying to process the fact you were too. "The question is, why are you?"

"Oh, guess the alcohol made me wake up early. Can't go to bed," you nervously chuckled, holding the book behind your back in hopes he wouldn't notice.

"So you're doing... laundry?" His eyes go to your loud ass washing machine, still rattling with your soaked sheets inside.

"Thought I'd take a page out of your book and be productive in the morning!" You quickly explained.

He eyed you suspiciously. "What's in your hand?"

"Oh, this? It's just..." You finally look at what Jungkook wrote on the bright, red cover. "Calculus 2?"

"You're reading my Calc notes at 5 in the morning?"

"Just because I'm done with school doesn't mean I'm done learning!"

"You didn't even have to take Calculus 1. You were a Psychology major."

"Don't you have a morning run to go on?" you huffed, irritated with his constant questioning. "You missed out on your 'cardio' last night, remember?"

He cocked his head, confused. "No I didn't. I went out dancing. That's basically cardio."

Oh...

Well now you felt stupid.

You looked away, hoping he couldn't see the shame and embarrassment on your face, knowing you were bullshitting. You were afraid that if he looked at you too long, he'd see exactly what was going on in your head. "You should still go out for a run. Don't need you getting lazy."

He rolled his eyes, shuffling back to his room. "Whatever."

You let out a breath of air and finally let your tense shoulders loosen.

That was a close one.

—

You really thought that would be the end of it. So you had one, absolutely crazy, unrealistic dream about Jungkook railing your mouth. So what? Surely it would never happen again. You had gotten it out of your system by writing all of it out. It's not like that would ever even happen like that. Clearly you had taken the details Layla had given you and ran with them, making Jungkook out to be a mean, cruel, demented sex-god in your imagination. No one could ever live up to that fantasy, least of all a nerd like Jungkook. There was no way you saw Jeon Jungkook as anything besides the dweeb you grew up to despise.

And you were truly despising him this moment, squirming as you banged against the bathroom door, in desperate need of relief.

"Come on, Jungkook! You've been in there forever, you're done showering! Some of us have to actually pee, you know." God, you reallllly didn't want to head all the way downstairs and use the lobby bathroom. Damn this place for only having one.

"Just a second, hold your tits," he piped back.

You scowled, slamming your fist against the door again. Jungkook always took showers for what seemed like forever, steaming up the small room and soaking the bathmat when he got out. You're about to hurl an insult when the door opens, revealing Jungkook through a steamy mist that clouded the room.

And he was half naked.

Your gaze automatically explored the newly revealed skin to you, every muscle in his abdomen well defined. His chest was much broader to match his shoulders, waist practically nothing as it led down to the v-shape between his hips, disappearing beneath a towel. His body was wet, glistening from the hot shower and steam, every muscle shining and glistening as though he were covered in oil. You stared down at the towel, now all too aware that he was completely naked beneath, and if weak little fitted scrap were to fall, you'd have a full view of his dick.

You had seen Jungkook shirtless countless times. At the pool, at the beach. But back then he had noodle arms and a little boy's body. He looked nothing like that any more. He had completely filled out, a man before your eyes.

Jungkook quirked a brow at your staring, confused by your blank expression. "Didn't you need to pee?"

Your empty head was then reminded of what you had come there for in the first place, and as much as you'd like to further ogle Jungkook's muscular, god-like build, the pressure of your bladder reminded you there were much more urgent matters. You did your best to twist your face into a scowl again, bumping into him purposefully as you enter the bathroom. "Move."

Slamming the door behind you, you finally were able to pee. Washing your hands and wiping the fogged up mirror, you internally cringed at how brazenly you checked out Jungkook. Fuck, hopefully he didn't think anything of it. But what could he expect when he was practically naked in front of you? Don't people usually carry their change of clothes into the bathroom with them for after?

Fuck... if only the towel dropped...

You were sickeningly reminded of the dream from prior, and find yourself reaching for his body wash, still dewy and wet. You popped it open, letting the fragrance hit your nose. Fuck, you were being such a creep right now. But it smelled so much like Jungkook, with that manly, woody scent that now covered your apartment and drove you crazy.

You heard a knock on your front door, followed by Jungkook's, "I'll get it!"

You exited the bathroom, seeing Taehyung walk in. Jungkook had already changed into clothes (unfortunately), wearing blue jeans and a hoodie to combat your blasting AC, but his hair was still wet as he ran a towel over it. Taehyung smiled at you as he entered, giving a small wave. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hi Taehyung." Taehyung was an attractive man, no doubt, with supermodel features and bulkiness that rivaled Jungkook's. It was no wonder he was able to pull girls so easily when clubbing. "Sorry we didn't get to say goodbye the other night. You seemed a bit preoccupied."

"Oh, yeah, she was cool."

You tilted your head, squinting your eyes. "What was her name?"

"Um..." He glanced over at Jungkook for help. "Amy?"

"Abby," you corrected for him.

"Right! Abby." He smiled at Jungkook knowingly. "She's Layla's friend, right?"

"Dude, shut up," Jungkook grunted, tossing his wet towel in Taehyung's face.

Taehyung cackled boisterously, bunching the towel up. "What? Afraid I'll embarrass you in front of your little roomie?"

"It's fine, I know more than I should." It accidentally slipped out, and both boys give you a look that made you regret it. Taehyung's was one of keen interest, whereas Jungkook's was one of mild shock.

"Oh?" A mischievous smile slipped onto Taehyung's face. "How much do you know?"

"They hooked up," you said simply, careful not to give away what sordid details Layla had given. You did not want Jungkook to find out about how you pried for details about how dirty his mouth was and how he had a generous appendage.

"That's all?" He seemed almost disappointed. "Yeah, Jungkook's entered his manwhore phase. I'm so proud."

"Shut up, dude," Jungkook said again, shoving Taehyung's shoulder. "It was a one time thing and you know it. And I'll never be as bad as you, even if I tried."

Taehyung let out a low whistle at Jungkook's irritation. "Look who's getting so defensive. Trying to save face in front of your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Jungkook corrected. "Just don't need you getting in her head and giving her more ammo to use against me."

That was a very you thing to do.

Taehyung's grin widened, "So you wouldn't mind if I took her on a date, would you?"

The look Jungkook shot Taehyung's way could only be described as lethal, a sharp glare accompanied with a tense jaw. Clearly Taehyung had succeeded in getting under Jungkook's skin. "Y/N wouldn't be interested in you."

"Oh really?" Taehyung quirked a brow. "I think she can answer for herself."

Both men looked to you, and you're suddenly frozen from being put on the spot. You hadn't anticipated being put between the two of them, their attention wholly focused on your answer. The truth was you probably would've jumped on Taehyung in any other circumstance, but he was Jungkook's friend, and clearly Jungkook didn't seem to keen on the idea of you sleeping with him. Besides, your head had been filled so much with Jungkook recently, you weren't sure if there was room for anyone else.

Letting out a nervous chuckle, you glanced between the two. "This seems a bit tense," you said, diverting from the question, not wanting to directly answer.

"Don't listen to him. He's just being a dick for the sake of it," Jungkook grunted, shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it onto the living room sofa. "Go to the car already if you want us to make it before the dinner rush. Otherwise that waitress you like so much will be too busy."

Taehyung slid out from his seat, giving you a small smirk. He probably took it as a good sign you didn't directly reject him. "Call me if you want to take me up on my offer, Y/N. I can show you a good time."

He exited your apartment, leaving you alone with Jungkook, who still seemed strangely heated. His glare now turned to you, gritting his teeth. He probably was upset that you didn't directly reject Taehyung. Offended, he asked, "Is he your type or something?"

Clearly he wasn't planning on letting this go just yet. You did your best to give a noncommittal shrug, looking away. "I mean, he's a good-looking guy. I'm not sure he's exactly my type though."

"What is your type?"

Why was he so interested?

The truth was tall, muscular, inked, him. Well, not him, but maybe someone who looked just like him. A bulky guy who looked like he could toss you around like it was nothing. Maybe someone who invaded your dreams like a goddamn incubus. Fuck, maybe it was him.

"Not so sleazy," you opted for instead.

He grunted, grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket, somewhat satisfied with your answer. "Yeah, Taehyung's a bit of a fuckboy. I don't recommend you get involved with him like that."

You crossed your arms. "Birds of a feather flock together, I suppose."

A certain look flashed in his eyes as he locked gazes with you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you're not so innocent yourself, hooking up in a dirty club bathroom with a stranger. And he's your friend, after all."

"I said— Look, it was a one time thing, I don't usually—" He let out a breath of exasperation, shaking his head and heading to the door, grabbing his keys from the bowl next to it. "Forget it."

The door slammed shut behind him, and you were left alone with more questions than answers.

—

Your bedroom door creaked open, a small sliver of light invading your darkness and shining on your face. You squinted, watching as a shadowy mass pushed the door open further, climbing over you and ripping the sheets off.

Jungkook smiled, back from dinner, and yet there was an insatiable, hungry look in his eyes as he took in your form, now revealed from beneath the blankets. "Hey, baby," he said in a low whisper. "Did you miss me?"

"Jungkook?" You groggily reached up and rubbed at your eyes, slowly waking up as you realized he was on top of you. "What're you doing?"

"Exactly what you've been wanting me to do." He reached towards your sleep shorts, hand curling into the hem as he pulled it down your bare legs. You squirmed, reaching for his arm to stop him from exposing you, but he continued, discarding the shorts and hooking his thumbs into your panties. He licked his lips, slowly peeling them off of you, your bare center privy for his viewing pleasure. "Fuck, there's the little pussy I've been dreaming about."

You squealed as he yanked your underwear off your legs too, spreading them and leaving no part of you hidden from him. You tried to snap your legs shut, but his grip on your thighs was too strong, his gaze too hard and intense for you to escape. You knew just from the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to let you go. Your nails scratched along his wrists, begging for mercy under his scrutinizing stare. "Jungkook! You can't just—"

"But I can," he interrupted, smirking at you. "Because you want it so fucking bad, don't you?"

You whimpered a bit at that, and he let go of one of your thighs to yank your shirt off of you, leaving you completely naked before him. He pinched one of your nipples between his fingers, tugging as he watched you squirm and gasp under his touch.

"You're so sensitive, aren't you?" He licked his lips again, as though you were a meal waiting to be devoured, and he was simply playing with his food first. "Bet you dreamed of me coming into your room and taking advantage of you, huh?"

"No!" You protested, shaking your head. "Y-You're wrong."

"Liar." His hand let go of your nipple to smack down harshly on your cunt, his hit heavy as your hips jumped up, a string of slick connecting his fingers to your sex before snapping off. "Good thing this pussy doesn't lie to me."

You bit your lip, trying to contain your squeal as he let his fingers dive between your folds, gathering your wetness and letting it smear on his digits. He circled around your clit and rubbed right above your entrance, feeling you coat him. Jungkook chuckled knowingly, watching your legs twitch and tremble with every small movement he made. "You're so wet for me already, and I haven't even done anything. You're such a slut for me."

"F-Fuck yo—" You weren't even able to finish your curse, Jungkook slipping a finger in and curling it up right at the spot that had you tensing up. "Oh my god!"

"Yeah? You like that?" He curled again, watching you thrash your head to the side, shame overtaking you. "You're so fucking easy, you know that? Just begging to be ruined. Want me to dick you down so bad, huh?"

You kicked your feet against the sheets, gasping as he pumped his finger inside of you, grinning wickedly as he watched you come apart. "Why—Why are you—"

"Because you wanted me to," he said, slipping in another finger, savoring the whimper that escaped your lips. "You wanted me to be the one to ruin you. Wanted me to use this pussy like my own personal fuck toy. Isn't that right?"

"Y-You're delusional."

"Am I?" His thrusts became quicker and harder, like your denial was making him more and more determined to have you fall apart for him. "Why are you getting wetter for me then, huh? Nasty pussy can't get enough of me it seems."

You moaned, feeling pressure build up in your abdomen already as his thumb came up to swipe at your clit. You tried closing your legs again around his hand, but he pushed one of your thighs further against the bed, making you hear the sloppy sounds of your gushing cunt full the room as he jackhammered his fingers into you.

"You're such a slut for getting off on this. Dirty little masochist." You involuntarily squeezed around his fingers, making him laugh at your expense. "Like that, huh? Like me calling you a dirty slut for me to use? You're fucking clenching on me baby, it's like you don't want me to stop. You could at least pretend a bit better that you don't like this."

With each curl of his fingers small gasps and pants left your parted lips, the pressure building as he shuffled himself further between your thighs, the hand pinning you down now quickly swiping against your clit, toying with the bud and adding to the slick sounds from between your legs. Your face burned with embarrassment, nails digging into his skin as you tried to pry him off with no avail, your orgasm building up with an intensity you weren't ready for.

"Please..." you moaned, mouth open as you watched both hands at work, expertly bringing you to the edge.

"Please?" He snickered at your weak plea. "Please what? Keep using you? Make you cum? Or should I just stop?"

He stilled his fingers and your hips bucked again, biting at your lip as you gripped onto his wrist, trying to pull him closer into you. The pressure in your abdomen began to fade, and you whined at the loss. "No!"

He cackled at that. "That's what I thought." His fingers began to move again, rebuilding your orgasm. "Gonna make you cum so hard. Maybe you'll pass out again. And then I'll still stretch this pussy out."

He slipped another finger in, your walls doing their best to accommodate the girth of his digits despite how tight it felt.

"Too much!" You felt your orgasm approaching, and fast, much faster than you could've ever anticipated.

"Too much? What're you going to do when you finally get my cock inside you, hm?" Your slick juices were spilling down to his wrist, drenching your bedsheets beneath you. "Gonna whine and bitch about it like you are now? We both know you'll start crying if I stop."

"Don't stop! Fuck, Jungkook, you're gonna make me—"

"Cum," he growled, the hand on your clit now moving to be just his thumb, his other fingers and palm splayed out to push down against your pelvis, forcing you to feel his fingers thrusting inside further, making you tighten. "Show me how fucking easy it is to ruin you."

You whined, practically folding into yourself as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Jungkook's fingers still harshly slamming into you to take everything you could give. You squeezed his wrist, pulling him impossibly closer, the heel on the hand fingering you now flush against your folds as you ground against it, hips bucking as you rode it out. Sweat slicked your hairline as you gasped for breath, your hips slowing to a roll as you felt the aftermath fade.

Jungkook let out a pleased hum, grinding his palm further against you, watching as you keened from the overstimulation, his grin permanently etched on his face as tears sprung into your eyes. "Fuck, that's it. Love that look on your face. Barely took me any effort to get you fucked out like this."

He slipped his fingers out of you, making you mewl from the empty sensation. Bringing them up to your lips, you wordlessly opened your mouth and took them in, sucking off the residue you had left behind.

"That's a good girl. Taste yourself." He pulled his fingers out, wiping them along your thigh. "My turn."

You barely had time to process how words before he was lifting you up by the hips, turning you practically upside down as your shoulders pressed into the mattress, ass in the air as your thighs were pulled over his shoulders. Blood rushed to your head at the new angle, Jungkook keeping a tight hold on you as your pussy was directly in front of his face. With a cocky grin he brought his mouth down, fully enveloping your sex and running his sinful tongue up the entirety of it.

You moaned, cringing slightly as you still hadn't recovered from the previous orgasm. Your thighs tensed around his head, his arms circling around them to hold you up for him, mouth running up and down your folds and nasty, wet sounds omitting from it. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking hard as you mewled and clenched your thighs around his head. His hands gripped them tight enough to leave bruises, firmly keeping your cunt glued to his face.

"Fuck, you have such a sweet cunt," Jungkook mumbled into you, the vibrations causing you to squirm at the sensation. "Don't even deserve it."

"Ah, fuck!" Your glassy eyes looked at him pleadingly, the image of his face between your thighs threatening to make you combust on the spot. "No, I just came, I can't—"

He let go of your clit with a wet pop, licking his lips as he pulled one of your thighs closer, his hand coming around to pinch at your clit with mean vigor. "Dumb sluts don't get to say no."

He buried his face back into your pussy, tongue circling around your entrance before going in, the wet muscle stiff as he thrust it in and out, before softening and licking where it could reach inside of you. His nose was pressed up against your clit, still caught between his two fingers, their slight movement as they stroked it making your mind spin. Your hands came up to bury in his hair, conflicted on whether to pull his face in closer.

He pulled his tongue from your sex, though it stayed dangling out of his mouth, as though he were a carnivorous mutt. The lower half of his face glistened with the remnants of your arousal, his lips swollen and glossy. "I know all of your weak spots, Y/N. Know you love being held down and forced to take it. No one else will ever make you feel as good as I do."

He latched back onto you, and you felt the orgasm that hadn't even had time to completely fade away being rebuilt, the sensation of his tongue buried deep inside you and his fingers stroking at your swollen bud pushing you further and further to the edge. Your fingers tugged at his scalp as you felt the wave wash over you, your walls clenching and spasming around his tongue as he pressed his face further against you, wanting to be completely soaked as you came on his face.

Jungkook chuckled against you as he watched your fucked out expression, your eyes slightly crossed and lips parted as the world disappeared, his touch the only thing grounding you. He licked away until you started pushing his head back, and back he went.

But not as back as you were expecting.

You were suddenly sprung back to reality when you felt his tongue against your other entrance, smearing saliva and the evidence of your orgasm onto the rim. You tried pushing his head back away, but he stayed firm, letting go of your thighs for one arm to circle around your waist. Your legs fell back as you folded in half, knees now above your shoulders into the mattress, your ass in his face with no where to hide. Your face burned with embarrassment, "No! Not there!"

He laughed, giving you another lick. "Stupid little girl. Hearing your little moans as you try to protest only makes me want to tease you more."

You bit your lip, trying to contain the moan as you felt his stiffened tongue breach the barrier past your rim, slowly inching further and further against you. Never in your life had you had a man eat your ass, and Jeon Jungkook was going to be the first.

"You—You—" You couldn't even truly begin your sentence as the arm not wrapped around your waist, holding you up, reached around and pinched your clit again. The overstimulated little nub sent jolts of pleasure and pain throughout you, and your torture only persisted.

Jungkook came back up, pinching your clit harder and laughing in your face as you cried. "Wonder if I can make your little pussy cum from just this," he said aloud, spitting on the wrinkled rim before inserting his tongue again, like he was trying to shove his spit into your hole as far as the muscle would allow.

You kicked your legs that were in the air, trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position,a burn in your calves as they surrounded you. So much blood was rushing to your head, you couldn't think properly with his tongue buried in your ass and your body folded under his whim like you were simply origami paper.

What was worse that it felt so fucking good, Jungkook's daring tongue in your previously unexplored hole doing wonders, his confidence and lack of shame or shyness making him bury himself as deep as he could. His arm around your waist tightened, trying to pull your ass up higher against his face, and his fingers were rubbing circles into you.

Fuck, he was really going to make you cum from eating your ass!

At the worst possible moment, the door swung open completely, and another hulking shadow appeared.

You looked up in horror, realizing how embarrassing the position was. There you were, folded in half, ass in Jungkook's face while his tongue was buried inside, and pussy neglected and squeezing around nothing as your impending orgasm approached.

"Well well well, what have we here?"

Taehyung's amused expression at your predicament did nothing to quell your humiliation, his eyes scouring your naked body, from your flushed face to your sweaty form. You weakly kicked your feet again, trying to squirm out of Jungkook's hold, but he didn't let up, only holding onto you tighter and forcing you to take it, all in front of Taehyung.

Finally he pulled his tongue out, acknowledging the uninvited guest. "Tae, come here and help me hold her down."

Taehyung didn't need to be told twice, ignoring your shriek and grabbing your ankles, pinning them down to the mattress. He smirked down at you, obviously loving how helpless you were beneath the two men, his presence only adding to your embarrassment.

"Suck her clit. Don't put anything in her pussy yet, she's on time out." That was all Jungkook said before he returned to eating your ass, unashamed in front of his friend.

Taehyung did as told, lips on your pussy without hesitation. He sucked on your clit, his tongue roving over the area as you squirmed and tried to kick again, but his grip on your ankles kept you glued in place. You felt both of them smile against you, enjoying how you struggled beneath them, unable to move even a single inch.

"Fuck," Taehyung finally said, deep voice making you clench around nothing, letting go of your clit as you squealed. "Tastes so fucking good."

"I know," Jungkook chuckled, letting some of the drool from the tip of his tongue drip onto your winking asshole, adding to the lubrication. "She gets so fucking wet when you manhandle her. She's a total masochist."

"Is that right?" One of Taehyung's hands let go of your ankles to land a sharp spank on your ass, having you wiggle and moan beneath them at the smarting pain. He laughed, spanking your other cheek too, looking down at your teary expression with absolute glee. "Fuck, you're right. She's loving this."

"She's so fucking dirty. She loves having me eat her ass. Was so shy at first, but now look at her."

"Mm, I can tell. She looks like she's gonna cum any minute." Taehyung licked against your clit again, savoring the whimper that escaped you. "Are you gonna cum? Don't even have anything in that little pussy and you're already squirming like you're gonna burst. Bet you hate being so empty."

He sucked on your clit again with renewed fervor, Jungkook's tongue curling inside you as they both drove you crazy. Taehyung's hand reached down to your bare chest, twisting your nipple to hear you whine, nails digging in a little as he cruelly twisted. He smiled against your clit again, teeth barely nipping at your folds to make you cry more for them. His was just as evil as Jungkook.

"C'mon, cum for us. Maybe we'll let you have something in your pussy again," Jungkook grunts, words muffled. "Show Taehyung what a fuckslut you are."

Your ass clenched on his tongue, hips bucking what little they can against Taehyung's face as your third orgasm overtook you. Your thighs trembled, and you felt only the sensation of two mouths on your most intimate parts, devouring every part that was accessible to them. Your moan was practically whorish, your neighbors no doubt ready to leave a noise complaint with your landlord at the disturbance.

Once you finished shaking beneath them, they finally let you go, letting you crumple between them on the sheets, body limp and practically lifeless from the three orgasms forced out of you. You breathed heavily, mind hazy as the orgasmic fog took over your brain. You barely processed Jungkook pulling you into his arms, sitting you between his legs and spreading your own over his.

His fingers reached down, spreading your lips and revealing your twitching sex to both, your clit swollen and folds puffy from the abuse you endured.

"You're such a good slut for us," he rasped into your ear, his voice sending tingles down your spine. "Pretended to hate this so much, but now look at you. I guess you deserve some reward."

Your eyes widened as you realized what that meant. You try to close your legs again, but Taehyung halts you, hands on your knees and keeping you spread out and exposed to them. You looked at both pleadingly. "Please, no more, I feel like I'll die if I cum again."

Jungkook only smiled cruelly at that, the hand on your pussy coming down to smack your swollen sex yet again, making you yelp. "Taehyung, why don't you finger her a bit?"

Taehyung grinned, digits coming up and sliding across your puffy cunt, circling your entrance before inserting two fingers already. He hissed as he felt you squeeze around him, barely giving him room to move. "Fuck, she's so tight, even after cumming so much."

You felt Jungkook's smirk against your ear. "Yeah, gonna have to stretch her out to fit my cock. Think it'll break her?"

Taehyung chuckled, crooking his fingers up and sliding them in and out of you. "You might. Don't know how she's gonna take you. Her pussy's just so fucking tiny."

"I'll have to make her take it. She'll like it better that way anyways. She pretended like she didn't want this earlier, but her body doesn't lie." Jungkook peeled your hands away from Taehyung's wrist, refusing to let you pull him away. He held your wrists in each hand, holding them up as he admired the shine on Taehyung's digits every time he pulled them out of your pussy. "Do you like how he fingers you, princess? Masochistic pussy just can't get enough. Want Tae to make you cum again?"

"F-Fuck," you whimpered, unable to answer, your brain practically mush at this point. "I... I'm..."

"Shh, it's ok baby. I know you're too dumb to talk right now," Jungkook cooed mockingly in your ear, lips brushing against the shell. "It's alright. You're just gonna take what we have to give you like a good little slut, isn't that right?"

You nodded dumbly, moaning again as Taehyung hit that weak spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back. You weren't sure how much more you could endure, but you knew the two of them wouldn't give you any other choice.

"You should thank him for letting you cum so much," Taehyung scolded, bullying his fingers deeper into you, spreading them and scissoring you open. "Whores like you should learn how to give respect."

"She never gives me respect," Jungkook said, letting go of one of your wrists to meanly slap your cunt again, making you buck against Taehyung. "That's how she got in this position in the first place."

"Bitch just needed to be put in her place, is that right?" Taehyung chuckled.

"Th-Thank y-y-you," you weakly stammered out.

Jungkook ran his fingers over your sore cunt, soothing the sting as he studied your expression. Tears had sprung at the corners of your eyes, and you looked as though you were about to bawl any minute. "I'm not sure she's learned quite yet."

His middle finger traveled down to your entrance, sliding in easily due to your wetness and joining right above Taehyung's. You sharply inhaled at the feeling, your free hand coming to wrap around Jungkook's wrist, which he ignored. Instead he let go of your other hand, wrapping his own around your throat and giving it a light squeeze.

"It's so much," you gasped out, feeling their fingers move in tandem, stretching you.

Both chuckled.

"Oh baby, you're gonna need a lot more than that if you want to take me," Jungkook smirked, nipping at the shell of your ear. "I'm much bigger than that, remember?" He squeezed your neck, like he was reminding you how he filled your throat before.

"He's right, baby. I've seen him in the locker room. You'll have to be completely stretched out if you want to fit him in this tight little pussy." Taehyung laughed at your fearful expression, pumping his fingers in harder. "I don't think you'll be able to handle it. He's gonna split you in half and have you crying before he get halfway in, I bet."

"You're scaring her," Jungkook teased, slipping in another finger, watching as you keened at the feeling of four thick digits stretching you out. "I think she likes it, though."

"Course she does. Little slut is begging to be filled, isn't that right?" Taehyung reached with his free hand and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Bet you've been dreaming of his cock, haven't you?"

"Yes..." you weakly admitted.

"Fucking pathetic," Jungkook rasped in your ear, curling his fingers harder, pumping faster in time with Taehyung. His palm was flush against your swollen folds, grinding against your clit as he jackhammered his curled fingers into your g-spot. "Is that why you're such a bitch to me, always? Huh? Hoping I'd do this to you? Treat you like a slut, ruin you for anyone else? Finally give you my cock and shut you up?"

"It's real big, baby, you're gonna feel so full," Taehyung crooned. "I don't think any other cock will satisfy you after that. You'll really belong to Jungkook then."

"Gonna make her crawl and beg for me to put it inside her," Jungkook hissed between gritted teeth. "Watch how pretty she cries when I'm finally balls deep inside her."

"Fuck, she's getting wetter just thinking about it. Disgusting little slut is gonna cum just thinking about your dick in her." Taehyung's cruel cackle rang in your ears. "She really is fucking pathetic."

The loud squelching noises of them abusing and stretching out your wet cunt were too much to bear. You weakly nodded in Taehyung's grip, the tears finally falling down your face as you felt the familiar pressure building up. He leaned in, licking up a tear on your cheek and making you whine.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum! I can't, it's—"

"Shh, you will," Jungkook said in a belittling tone, smile evident in his voice and against your ear. "Gonna cum on me and Tae's fingers like a good girl, come on. Give us one more."

"Yeah, baby, show me how pretty you look falling apart."

Jungkook bit into your shoulder, the pain sending you spiraling towards the edge. And you did, your walls contracting around their fingers stuffed inside you, legs quivering as they made you a complete, utter mess between them.

You came, and everything around you shattered.

—

You bolted upward, drenched in sweat once again and gasping for breath. You took in your surroundings, the ceiling fan spinning above you, your living room in its typically pristine state due to Jungkook's tidy habits. Your stomach flipped when you realized the uncomfortable feeling in your panties was because they were drenched, and prayed that it hadn't somehow spilled through your shorts and onto the sofa.

Fuck, you really though you'd be safe just napping on the couch. Instead you had a sex dream yet again that seemed like it lasted hours.

You cursed, realizing you were still wearing Jungkook's hoodie. You had tugged it on pretty much as soon as he left the apartment, breathing in his scent and letting the soft fabric lull you into a false sense of security. You figured you could borrow it for just a moment; your apartment AC was on full blast, surely using his hoodie for just a few minutes would be reasonable! But no, instead you had a wet dream in it, consumed in the scent of his cologne and brain filled with images of him and his friend tag-teaming you to nearly cum to death. You definitely needed to wash this from any of the sweat that was inside, and fast.

Your head whipped around to the door, looking toward your shared key bowl. Only your keys remained. Good. Jungkook was still at dinner with Taehyung. That gave you some time.

You warily looked back to the stack of thick notebooks, the sliver of red at the bottom taunting you for your sick fantasies. Grumbling, you swiped it from underneath the rest, flipping past your most recent entry and scribbling down the details from the consequences of your nap.

You put in everything, the details nasty and graphic as you left nothing out— from Jungkook making you cum repeatedly, fingering you, eating your pussy and then your ass, having Taehyung join in. Every slap and degrading demand for obedience, the way he cooed in your ear and choked you to remind you what had been inside last dream, all of it. You wrote frantically, needing to get the images that flashed across your eyes out before Jungkook's return.

You had just about finished when you heard the jangle of keys in your front door, and panicked as you shoved the notebook back in place, spinning around to face Jungkook with a smile that could only be described as guilty.

Jungkook stepped in, eyes glancing to where your head popped up over the couch.

"Welcome home!" You uncharacteristically greeted. Don't think about how his tongue felt buried inside you. Don't make it obvious you were just imagining him and his friend sharing you like you were a pocket pussy.

He stopped, clearly taken aback by your behavior. "Um... thanks?"

"How was dinner?" You tugged at the hoodie, feeling a trickle of sweat run down your back. Fuck, hopefully you hadn't cum so hard it was permeating in the air. The mere thought of it made you want to die.

"It was fine..." Jungkook furrowed his brows, his expression suspicious. "Taehyung got the waitress's number."

"Oh! That's great to hear." Your eyes never left his lips, an ache between your legs as you recalled how he had used his mouth in your dream. Fuck, were you crazy to want to feel it right now? "He's not with you?"

"Nah. He just dropped me off. Why? You wanting him to hit on you again?" A flash of annoyance crossed his features.

"Pshhh, he didn't mean any of that. He was just trying to ruffle your feathers or something," you dismissed. "I'm sure he'll be plenty occupied with the waitress."

"Right..." He stepped closer to you, which only heightened your anxiety. The scent of his cologne as he neared in proximity was only making you sweat harder. "Are you ok?"

"Never better!" You chirped. "W-Why?"

"You're acting weird... and your face is all flushed." Jungkook narrowed his eyes, stepping closer and reaching a hand out to your forehead. "Are you coming down with something?"

"N-No! It's just hot in here!" You jumped back, not trusting yourself to not scream if he was able to get his hands on you. You stood from the couch, out of arm's reach.

"It's like, freezing in here." Jungkook's eyes flashed down to your attire. "Is that my hoodie?"

"Oh, this?" You internally cursed at yourself for not remembering to take it off. "Well, you're right, it's freezing, so I decided to just put this on, y'know? Figured you wouldn't mind, I mean, you left it on the sofa. I'm sorry. A-and I got really hot in it, so that's why I'm sweating! Crazy how that works. Here, let me give it back." You reached for the bottom of it to yank it off, but suddenly remember you probably soaked the clothes beneath with your sweat too, and that could not be a good look. You lift your arms back down. "...Later."

Jungkook's concerned expression didn't leave, and he stared at you as though you had grown two heads. "Y/N... are you sure you're alright?"

"Yup! Right as rain!" You nervously laughed. "I'll give this back to you in the morning. Sorry for borrowing it without asking."

"It's fine, I don't mind." He gave you one last glance over before hesitantly turning toward his room. "I'll... leave you be, then."

You watched as he turned his back, letting out small breath of relief and letting go of the tension you were unaware you were holding. Still, something gnawed at you. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, "Jungkook, wait."

He turned his head, clearly surprised with all of your antics this evening. "Yeah?"

"I, um," you tried to choose your words carefully. "I'm sorry for insinuating you were a sleaze. It'd be none of my business even if you were one."

Now he was really staring at you like you were from another planet. You? Genuinely apologizing to him? Unheard of. "Er— thank you?" He didn't seem as though he were processing this in real time. "I— You didn't have to... Thanks."

You nodded your head, pressing your lips together as you felt the newfound awkwardness between you two hang in the air. This was new. In all the years you spent with Jungkook,, awkwardness was never something you endured. "That's it. I just wanted to say that. To you."

"I appreciate it."

You spun on your heel to turn to your own room. "Well, that's that! Bye!"

You didn't even make it one step when you felt something grab your wrist.

"Wait."

You slowly turned, eyes glued to the inked fingers wrapped around you, your mind flashing back to how he held you back as Taehyung split you open with his fingers in your dream. Your eyes traveled up to Jungkook's face, his expression nervous as his other hand scratched the back of his neck. His eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

"I wanted you to know it really isn't something I do often. I... It was a one time thing, and I was a bit tipsy and it just happened. I'm really not like that, usually."

The type to hook up with random women, or the type who did what he apparently did, in that way?

You gulped, trying not to think about it. "It's alright, Jungkook. You don't owe me an explanation."

"I know. I just... felt like you should know."

"Oh." Your lips pursed and went small, and you were unsure what to make of the situation. "Ok."

His eyes scanned your face, trying to read what you were thinking to no avail. He finally let go of your wrist, and where he touched felt like it burned. "I'm... going to make you some soup or something. You're really burning up."

Your hands flew to your cheeks, and it felt like you were practically boiling alive. "Oh," you said again. "Thank you."

Maybe you really were coming down with something. One could only hope it had all just been some fucked up fever dream.

—

One time was just a strange, fucked up incident. Twice was merely a coincidence.

Right?

At least that's what you told yourself as the days passed. You very much were not sick, as it turned out, but Jungkook made halfway-decent chicken soup, so who were you to complain? Besides... it was kind of sweet.

All you had to do was avoid him in your tiny, tiny ass apartment. All you had to do was not absolutely ogle him every time he came back from a run, drenched in sweat, shirt hugging him in all the right places. You just needed to turn around and go back to your room when he popped out of the shower, inexcusably indecent despite living with a woman.

You had to remind yourself also that he didn't see you as a woman. You were Y/N, the girl who saw him as nothing more than scum at the bottom of her shoe, someone he had known for his entire life.

He could never, ever know about the secrets hidden beneath his stack of notes.

You considered briefly stealing the book and hiding it in your room, but considering how meticulous and anal Jungkook was about details, there was no doubt he'd notice its absence immediately. Maybe you could buy another book and swap them out?

But... sometimes when you were sure he was asleep or out of the apartment, you'd shuffle past the rose toys and handcuffs in your nightstand drawer, and pull out your trusty Hitachi, plugging it into your extension cord and thinking back to the dreams that haunted you. You'd grab the notebook, eyes scanning over the graphic words, recounting every last nasty thing that had happened in your imagination. You had become quite the writer, it seemed.

Knowing that it was your mind that had created these scenarios with him was baffling. Sure, you had no one to blame but yourself, but you still felt Jungkook should take some accountability for the state you were in.

The worst times were when you'd hear his room or the front door open, and you'd have to hastily yank the cord out of the outlet and let your orgasm die out. You'd silently pray he didn't catch the low buzz emanating from your room, or notice the stack of notebooks was a little bit shorter. Worst of all, you'd have to let your orgasm fade away, knowing that the walls were too thin and the space was too cramped for you to be getting away with indulging in your lewd fantasies.

It was like he was unknowingly edging you, which only pissed you off further.

Jungkook was busy showering when you snuck back into the living room, slipping your favorite notebook out from beneath the stack. Unfortunately it was one of those days at work that left you completely exhausted and frustrated beyond belief, and you knew you were going to need all the stress relief you could get tonight. Sure, was obsessively rereading the porno scenarios you came up with about your roommate wrong? Indulging in your fantasies that you could never actually partake in? A debatable maybe. But what Jungkook didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

You heard the water turn off, and despite knowing you should hide back in your bedroom, you stayed. Just a peek. Just a little boost for your session tonight, that's all you'd need.

As usual, Jungkook emerged only in a towel hugging dangerously low on his waist. It was pretty much a sin for him to come out like that.

Your gaze explored his impeccable form, the sight of his bare chest and abs most likely enough masturbation material on its own. Pulling a face, you glowered at him. "Why don't you just bring your change of clothes with you when you go in? Or do you just like strutting around the apartment naked?"

He rolled his eyes, running a towel along his hair. "It's just you. What's the big deal?"

You huffed, sliding the notebook to straighten back in place beneath the stack before he could take notice. "Just me. Right."

His brows furrowed. "What? I meant—"

"No no, I know what you meant," you said, standing from the sofa to retreat back to your room. "I hardly see you as a person anyways, much less a man."

He quirked a brow. "Is that so?"

"It is."

"Then why are you always checking me out?"

You felt your blood freeze, and suddenly you're so, very still. You turn your head to him, blinking rapidly, mind scrambling to come up with a response.

"You're delusional," you spat.

"You were doing it just now. You do it every time I step out of the shower, you should be used to it by now."

You guffawed at his accusation. "I-I do not! How do you expect me to react, seeing a man prance around my apartment half naked?"

His lips quirked up at your words. "I thought you didn't see me as a man."

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head in anger. "I don't. Like you'd be any different if I was always walking around here in nothing but a towel! Bet you'd just love that, perv."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N."

He finally turned around to disappear into his room, leaving you to grab one of the sofa pillows and scream into it out of frustration. Fuck. He had noticed. You should've known you were being too obvious, but you just couldn't help yourself.

And you definitely didn't sleep well that night.

—

Jungkook had you bent over the kitchen counter, your pajama pants pooled around your ankles, his hands squeezing your hips as he rubbed his bulge against your ass. You whined, trying to buck back and grind against him harder, but he kept you in place, pushing you against the counter until your hips were flush against the cold surface.

"You want me to finally put it in you?" He asked huskily in your ear. "Think you can take it?"

You nodded, desperate and pleading, reaching back so you could pull him closer. He didn't let you, grabbing your hands and slapping them down on the counter, grinding his hips harder as you felt the full length of him against you, hidden behind fabric.

"Need it, Jungkook, so bad."

"Mm, know you do," he hummed, "But do you deserve it?"

You think back on your behavior that day and shamefully shook your head. "I don't," you quietly admitted.

He smiled against your ear. "Right answer."

Your heart leaped as he let go of one of your hands, hearing the rustling of clothes as he rid himself of his pants. You gasped as you felt the full length of him land between your cheeks, the size feeling so much bigger than you remembered. Your legs shook, and your pussy got wetter in anticipation.

"Gonna split that tiny pussy in half, just the way you like it," Jungkook promised, grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up. He turned you so you were facing the side, one of your legs in the air as he hooked your ankle over one of his shoulders. He grabbed your hair, forcing you to look down at his enormous cock so close to your pussy, threatening to plunge into you. You bit your lip, feeling yourself involuntarily clench around nothing just looking at the mere size of him.

"This is what you wanted, right?" He asked under his breath, grabbing his cock and running the tip over your folds, letting it travel up to your clit and down to your entrance, but never pushing. "The cock you've been obsessing over like a desperate little slut?"

You nodded in his hold, licking your lips. "Yeah that's," you let out a shaky breath. "That's what I wanted."

"Yeah?" He slowly breached your hole, pushing in just the head, only about an inch, before pulling out, watching the disappointment and impatience in your expression. "Fuck, you're making such a mess on the floor and I haven't even put it in yet."

You looked down, and sure enough the way he teased you with his cock was enough to leave your wet pussy dripping onto the kitchen tiles, a small puddle beneath you.

You moved your hips back, trying to entice him into putting it in again, just a bit deeper. "Please don't tease me."

"But it's so fun. I think you like being bullied, in fact," he slaps his cock against your pussy, watching you wince with each tap. "I think you get wetter the meaner I get."

You shook your head in denial, but he had none of it, hand letting go of his cock to slap against your ass, making you jump. The one leg you stood on shook beneath you, and he hugged the one pressed against him tighter, giving you an uncomfortable stretch and leaving you exposed to one half of the room. "None of that. We both know the truth. You're just a little masochist who wants me to fuck the shit out of her. A desperate little slut."

He positioned the tip back at your hole, sliding in the tip and an inch extra, laughing at how you gasped and stretched around the bulbous head. "So fucking tight. How am I supposed to fit my cock in here, huh?"

"M-Make it fit," you insisted, biting your lip as he pushed in an extra inch.

"Yeah? Would it help if Taehyung was on his knees right now, licking that little clit to make you wetter for me?" Jungkook teased, pulling out again slightly before continuing his shallow thrust.

You shook your head again. You wouldn't be able to handle both of them again, especially with Jungkook's cock inside you this time. "No, don't want him, just need you. Just want you."

"Oh?" He bullied in another inch, watching your face contort at how full you were feeling already. He was only about halfway in. "Why don't you touch your clit and make it easier on yourself, huh? Get this pussy nice and wet for me."

It didn't matter that you were already embarrassingly wet, you did as you were told, a shaky hand coming down to run along your folds.

Jungkook tsked. "Not like that. Do it the way I would."

You brought your hand up a bit higher, rubbing small circles along it.

"That's not it. We both know I wouldn't be so sweet with you."

Jungkook sunk into you a bit deeper and reached around, smacking your hand away and pinching the poor bud between two fingers, using force as he rubbed it. He snickered at your reaction. "Thaaat's it. Feel how you clench around me? Pussy feels so good, doesn't want to let me go."

You panted, feeling him go deeper into you than you had ever experienced, and the stretch had you feeling so full you were going crazy. And he wasn't even all the way in yet.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Just needed a nice, fat cock to shut you up, isn't that right?" He chuckled, sliding in just a bit more, his fingers tapping against your engorged clit with teasing pats. "Little brat just needed to be filled."

With that he finally pushed completely in, balls pressed beneath you as he buried himself to the hilt. The tip pressed snuggly against your cervix, as though you two were a perfect fit. Tears sprung in your eyes from how overwhelmed you were, and he twisted your face to look at him, his cocky, satisfied grin taunting you. He stayed still like that, letting you enjoy the uncomfortable stretch of your thighs and pussy around his enormous cock, all while forcing you to look at him, so it'd be ingrained in your mind who did this to you.

"You're nothing but a hole to take my cock right now," he said lowly, the words a gentle caress in your ear. "Know you like it that way, too."

Another drop splashed onto the embarrassing puddle beneath you.

"Feel that?" His hand stopped torturing your clit and came up to your stomach, pushing right below your belly button, making you feel him inside. "Feel how deep I am? Has anyone reached here, baby?"

You shook your head, your pussy squeezing around him as you tried to adjust to his size.

He chuckled. "Didn't think so. Bet you feel nice and full. Aren't you so lucky?"

"Yes, I am, fuck." You tried to blink away the tears. His cock was fucking enormous, hitting sweet spots inside you you didn't even know existed. You really did feel like you were being split in half. "You're so fucking big."

"Yeah baby? Like the way I stretch you out? You took it so well, didn't know you had it in you." He pressed harder against the bulge protruding in your abdomen, letting you feel how deep it was. "Now I want you imagine what it'll be like when I finally fuck you with it."

—

You gasped, feeling all too sticky for your liking. You glanced at the clock.

4:45 AM.

Slowing your breath, you grabbed one of your pillows and screamed into it, kicking at your ruined sheets.

Fuck, it really wasn't over.

You had a problem.

It continued like that for much longer than you had ever hoped. Early morning laundry at the most ridiculous times. Downing coffee constantly because you were practically afraid of falling asleep again and seeing him. Jungkook had completely ruined your sleep schedule. You ended up buying another set of sheets to add to the rotation, and now you were filling up the notebook with more porn than the calculus notes it started off with.

You were frustrated beyond belief, Jungkook taunting you every waking and sleeping moment. It's not like he had any clue, which only made it worse. He got to obliviously prance around the place, whereas you were suffering in his mere presence. Admittedly you were taking out your unwarranted frustration on him, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were greeted with those innocent, doe eyes you were reminded of the sadistic glint in them the night before. Your body had a reaction any time you saw him, your insides screaming and a heartbeat in your nether regions when he so much as glanced to you.

You became much more snippy with him, cutting conversations short and being much more bitchy than usual, and that was saying something.

Poor Jungkook had no clue what he had done so wrong.

"Seriously, what has been your issue?" He confronted you, arms crossed as he caged you into the kitchen, blocking the way out.

"You," you snapped, downing a cup of coffee, trying not to think of the dream that had left your panties drenched.

Both of your handcuffs had been used to lock your wrists on either bedpost, your sleep mask covering your eyes as you leaned forward, arms straining as you tried to break free. Your mouth was gaping, tongue dangling from your mouth like a dog, Jungkook's cock mere centimeters from your lips. You could practically taste the pre-cum that was oozing out of the tip.

Jungkook's hands gripped the bedpost above you, hips just far back enough to deny you of what you were craving. His cruel chuckle met your ears as he watched your desperation.

"C'mon, you're barely even trying. You must not want it bad enough."

You tried to inch forward more, barely getting any closer.

"That's it, you're almost there." Jungkook took his cock in one hand and stroked it slowly, hand twisting over the head to spread the lubricant over it. "You want my cock so bad. C'mon, know you can almost taste it."

You mewled when you finally felt the tip on your lips, licking over the small slit and sticking your tongue out so you could twirl it around the head.

You snapped out of the daydream and back to reality, the taste of Jungkook's pre-cum still being on the tip of your tongue. Your face burned as you tried to step past him, but he blocked your exit.

"Yeah, it's always me, which I don't get because I've been completely decent to you. I thought we were actually getting along for a second. But lately you've just been a complete bitch to me for no reason."

You fumed, not in the mood for the conversation. Sure, Real-Jungkook had been civilized, but Dream-Jungkook had been nothing but an animal. "What? You were expecting me to like you all of the sudden? Please."

You tried to step around him again, but he stepped to the same side, not letting up. "We used to get along as kids, y'know. What happened?"

You did not want to think about when you were kids. "I realized I hated you. I still hate you. Simple."

"Why?" His nostrils flared. "I never understood it. One day you suddenly decided you wanted nothing to do with me. What's the reason?"

Your mouth dropped open as your mind scrambled for an explanation, but nothing came out.

Jungkook let out a scoff. "You can't fucking stand me, and you don't even know why. It's pathetic."

Pathetic. That word rung in your head, the same word he'd whisper into your ear in your dreams when he made you cum over and over again. Your face burned up more, and you took a step back, putting up an accusatory finger. "Please! Don't act like you like me all of the sudden. We only moved in together out of convenience, not because we're actually friends or anything."

He bared his teeth, glaring at you. "You know what? You're right. I hate you too. Can't fucking stand you right now."

"Good!" you shot back.

He finally moved out of the way towards his room, and you stomped out of the kitchen to the sofa, turning your back to grab at the notebook, fire in your veins. He was the reason you were suffering so much, and you knew just from seeing him pissed you were going to have another rough night.

"What the fuck is up with you and that book?" Jungkook hissed. Apparently he hadn't gone to his room just yet. Stupid you, not waiting until you heard his door closed.

You spun around, scowling. "What, a girl can't fucking learn now and then?"

"You're always going through it, I didn't even write that many notes."

"Well I have to go over it again and again since I didn't take Calc 1, remember?" You quickly tried to cover your tracks, gripping onto the book like it were a life line. "Stop being so obsessed with me and mind your business, maybe."

Jungkook gritted his teeth, a vein popping up along his neck out of anger. "Fucking whatever. Suit yourself."

Finally, you heard his door slam shut, and you let out a breath of relief.

—

Luckily for you, Jungkook's finals were coming up, so your real-life interactions with him were much more limited. Most of the time he would simply give you a grunt of acknowledgement when you came home from work, sitting at the sofa, surrounded by his notes. At first you got a bit anxious that he was so close to your previous book, but the bottom half of the stack remained mostly undisturbed. Hell, he was now sleeping in more and skipping his morning runs, up late studying, which meant when you were up from one of those terrible, awful, no good dreams, you could do your laundry and scribble in the book in peace.

You were running out of pages, and seriously had to consider going out and buying a notebook of your own if this were to keep up. You weren't sure how much more of this could take. Maybe it'd be worth it to move back in with your parents. At least then you'd be freed of this torment.

You were having to buy so many things lately. New bedsheets for the rotation. Another book for you to scribble out the depraved fantasies that should never see the light of day. Hell, maybe even a new vibrator, because Dream-Kook just loved reminding you how much you needed to be filled, and it seemed to be more and more true every day. He was turning out to be quite the expense.

Occasionally you considered sleeping with someone else to get it out of your system. Maybe taking up Taehyung on his offer. He was in a dream too, after all. But Jungkook was already beyond pissed at you, and sleeping with his friend would surely and rightfully send him over the edge. You were afraid what would happen if he were to actually snap, and with how much you two had been bickering lately, his patience was clearly running thin. Even if you were to bring another man home with you, something told you it wasn't a great idea. For some reason you hated the idea of Jungkook knowing.

Even in your dreams he seemed to taunt you about it.

"Now what would you do that for? You know no one can satisfy you the way I can, stretch you out as like me. Why don't you stop wasting everyone's time and just ask? Maybe beg nicely and I'll actually give you what you want."

Nope. Not happening. There was absolutely no way you could let Jungkook know you had been thinking about him like this. If your sinful thoughts ever got to him, you'd never hear the end of it. The mere thought of him finding out mortified you. It was bad enough he had caught you checking him out one too many times. What would happen if he were to discover every graphic detail of what you dreamt of him doing to you?

Work had been hell. It seemed your dreams had morphed into daydreams, distracting you throughout the day now and invading every aspect of your life. You had zoned out thinking about Jungkook using BDSM tape, covering your pussy to trap his cum inside, and turning your Hitachi on the highest setting as it pressed against you.

Let's just say you were less than productive today. Clearly your desires were morphing becoming depraved by the day. You were going clinically insane.

You muttered to yourself as you fumbled with your keys in the door. You had to stay overtime to make up for the work lost during your daydreaming. Honestly, you should find some way to legally sue Jeon Jungkook. It was the least you could do. This sleep deprivation was a literal form of torture, who could blame you for going a bit insane? That's what you told yourself when you ate some of Jungkook's cinnamon buns out of retribution. At least you had tomorrow off.

Tonight you were going to wait until the Jungkook eventually tired himself out from studying, and go ham on yourself with the Hitachi. Write down the little daydream that had you squirming in your seat, too. You uncomfortably pulled at your skirt and smoothed over your button down, noting to yourself that you should probably wear pants to work for the foreseeable future.

You slammed the door shut, seeing Jungkook hunched over his papers as usual. You gave him a passing grunt of acknowledgement, tossing your keys into the bowl.

He looked up at you from over the couch, and there was something in his eyes you couldn't quite place. He seemed almost angry, which didn't make sense because you had just gotten here. Did he know you ate one of his protein bars this morning or something? Maybe he was just frustrated from studying.

"Not even a hello?" You scoffed. Usually he'd at least grunt back at you. Rude.

You walked past the couch to go to your room, but spotted something from the corner of your eye.

In Jungkook's hand was his red Calc 2 notebook.

Your eyes widened, and you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as your mind scrambled. No. There was no way. He never even touched that fucking book! He finished that class a semester ago, why would he? Maybe he didn't go to the last pages. He himself knew he only filled out maybe a third of it, he probably stayed in that section.

Your eyes darted between your bedroom door and your front door, weighing the two options. Should you lock yourself in your bedroom and refuse to come out? You'd probably wither and starve in there, but it'd be better than inevitably having to come out and face Jungkook. Maybe go back to the front door and drive away? That'll look too suspicious!

Calm down, Y/N!

You halted your hesitation, taking shaky steps toward your bedroom. You were just being paranoid. That's it.

You twisted the knob, opening it barely an inch before a tattooed hand above you slammed it back shut.

You froze.

Slowly turning around and facing up, you gulped in fear, coming face to face with Jungkook.

He now hovered over you, eyes dark as he caged you in with his large body, notebook clutched tightly in the hand that wasn't refusing you access to your bedroom.

He seemed much too calm for your liking, eerily quiet as he took in your nervous expression, the way you trembled like a leaf underneath him already, guilt written all over your face.

Jungkook lifted the notebook to eye level, the sharpied Calc 2 title taunting you. "Care to tell me what this is?"

Your mouth felt very dry all of the sudden, and your eyes flitted about your surroundings, searching for an escape. "Y-Your notes?"

"Oh really? Because I don't remember writing," he opened the book with one hand, letting it land on a random page, "about how I was so deep inside you, you felt me in the back of your throat."

You felt all the blood drain from your face, color being washed away. You were too ashamed to even look at him. "I... I can explain."

"Oh I'd love an explaination." He snapped the book shut dramatically. "I'd love to hear whatever excuse you came up with as to why you used nearly 200 of my pages to write twisted porn about me."

You wanted to die. You wanted die right here, right now. For the floor to swallow you whole.

Your mouth dropped, but no sound escaped you. What could you say? He clearly saw everything. Every goddamn graphic detail you had scribbled into that stupid book had now come to bite you in the ass.

"Thought you didn't see me as a man, Y/N." He tsked, narrowing his eyes as he waved the book in your face. "Was wondering what had you so fucking obsessed with this. Knew you weren't just studying my fucking calculus notes. How long have you been writing these sick fantasies in here, huh?"

You stared down at the floor, and Jungkook grabbed your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He looked beyond pissed. You tried to swallow, your knees threatening to give out under you. "S-Since I talked to Layla."

A small breath escaped his lips. "Is that right?" His mouth quirked up, a near smirk appearing on his face. "What'd she tell you, huh?"

You shook your head, closing your eyes.

He craned your neck up, forcing your to arch your back against the door, the back of your head now pressed against it. He gritted his teeth. "Answer me," he demanded.

"Told me you were big," you gasped out. "That you were rough. And mean."

Jungkook tilted his head. "Is that right?"

Your bottom lip trembled, feeling the blood now rush to your cheeks. You couldn't escape Jungkook's tight grasp or scrutinizing glare, forced to feel the humiliation from being caught. "It's all your fault," you deflected. "It's your fucking fault I've been having these dreams. You made me do it."

"I did?" His nostrils flared, fingers tensing around your face, pressing into your cheeks with anger. Your lips jutted out, rendering you silent. "You're blaming me for you writing out this absolute filth? About how you begged for my cock, how you dreamed of me putting my tongue anywhere I pleased, using you? No, you don't get to put this on me."

"I do!" You barely managed to gasp the words out through his grip. Your hands reached for the notebook, but he held it out of your reach, refusing to give it up. You wrenched your face free from his hold, glaring at him with disdain. "You've been galavanting half naked practically every day! It's your fault I haven't gotten any fucking sleep, that I'm fucking tormented with these dreams to the fact I had to write it out to get it out of my system! I haven't been able to sleep properly in weeks! I'm constantly having to wash my sheets, hide in my own fucking apartment, all because of you! I fucking hate you!"

Jungkook's gaze hardened, and suddenly he was very,very quiet.

"Is that so?"

Suddenly you regretted your words, because he twisted he knob behind you, and you felt yourself falling back into the door you had previously been leaning on. Jungkook doesn't let you hit the ground, though, hand again clasped around your jaw as he walked you backwards, letting your back hit the mattress.

He climbed on top of you, throwing the notebook aside as he pinned you down. "Say it again."

Your eyes were wide as you stared up at him, one of his hands beside your head and the other one holding a firm grip on your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact.

Very quietly, you whispered out the words. "I hate you."

That's when Jungkook did something he never had in any of your dreams.

He leaned down and kissed you.

You immediately gasped in surprise, and Jungkook didn't wait to force his tongue in your mouth, completely overwhelming you as he pressed his mouth harder against yours. You couldn't even turn away, having to take it as he explored every part of you available, his movements precise and deliberate as if he had something to lose. On instinct, and not wanting to lose, you found yourself kissing him back, pink muscle dancing with his as you kissed him harder, screwing your eyes shut and giving him everything you had. His kiss wasn't gentle or sweet, instead an angry clash of tongue and teeth as he ravished your mouth, as though he were trying to teach you a lesson through that alone. Your hands wove in his hair, the tendrils just as soft as you always imagined.

"Fucking hate you, too," he growled against your lips, the vibrations from his words making your stomach flip. "Gonna show you how much."

You couldn't fucking believe you were doing this with Jungkook, the boy you swore hated since you started becoming fully conscious. The boy, turned man, who made your stomach do somersaults and knew you since the two of you were little kids. There was so much shared history between you two that couldn't be forgotten, too many years. And here he was, licking into your mouth and swallowing every whine and whimper like it was fucking owed to him.

After what felt like forever, he finally allowed you air, both of you gasping for breath, a line of saliva still connecting you two before snapping off. He glared at you with absolute intensity, his hand letting go of your jaw to land on the other side of your head and support his weight.

Both of you were still breathless, staring at each other, your eyes wide and his narrowed.

You couldn't believe he had actually done it. You also couldn't believe that you actually liked it, a lot more in reality than you ever would have in your dreams.

"You're such a dirty liar," he hissed. "You only hate me because you want me."

"Y-You're fucking delusional," you denied, despite the fact it was clearly pointless. Anyone could see you were lying out of your ass.

"Am I?" Before you can stop him, his hand shoved your skirt up to your waist, yanking your panties and twisting the fabric as he ripped them down your thighs.

You didn't even have time to hide it. You were so embarrassingly wet, thick strings of your arousal stretching from your messy cunt to the patch in your underwear as it desperately tried to cling to it.

Jungkook scowled back at your mortified expression, eyes glued to how wet you had gotten just from his kiss and confrontation. "Don't you dare lie to me when your pussy reacts like this," he growled, hand coming up and landing a sharp smack right on your center.

You let out an wanton moan, unable to hide it as you bucked back against his hand, thighs rubbing together now like matches. Jungkook had none of it, grabbing your knees and forcing them apart so he could take a good look at your shame. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he stared at you, unable to hide the evidence of how he affected you.

"How long were you planning on hiding this from me, huh?" His hand came up to your pussy, running between the slippery folds, your slick collecting on his fingers. "How long were you going to keep the fact that you've been having these nasty dreams about me almost every night?"

You bit your lip, closing your eyes, refusing to answer.

Jungkook didn't like that.

He slapped your cunt again, manhandling your legs back apart when you tried to shut them back together. "Fucking answer or I swear to God I'll edge you for hours."

"Forever," you admitted, shame washing over you. "You were never supposed to know."

"Oh? So you were just going to keep this a secret?" He slipped two fingers around your clit before pinching, the same way he did in your dreams, watching you whine at the sensation and squeal. "Were never going to tell me about how you thought about me fucking your face until you passed out? Or sharing you with my friend? Or how I used every nasty sex toy in your drawer on you until you were begging me to stop?"

"F-Fuck, Jungkook!" He pinched you again, rubbing harder against your clit as it became engorged. "Please, please, just—"

"What?" He rubbed slower now, tantalizing circles that made you want to grind down on him harder. "Have mercy? When you were being such a brat a minute ago?"

He didn't wait before plunging two digits inside of you, and you were so wet he didn't even meet any resistance. He curled them up, pressing them against that rough patch that had your toes curl. "I'm not going to be nice to you anymore. We both know you don't want that anyway."

Your hands wrapped around his wrist, feeling the way his muscles worked with every curl of his fingers inside of you. It felt far more overwhelming than any of your dreams already, his cologne wrapping around you and making your brain foggy, his digits moving with expertise threatening make you cum hard enough to see stars.

You couldn't give in so easily. You were mortified by the thought of him knowing it only took his fingers to make you undone.

You bit your lip, holding back your moans as best you could, swallowing every whimper that threatened to expose you.

"What happened to all those cute moans earlier, huh princess?" His tone was belittling, making you feel smaller beneath him. "C'mon, don't be shy. You certainly weren't in that little notebook of yours."

"Was faking them," you hissed through gritted teeth, not wanting to give in. He always hated how stubborn you were.

His eyes narrowed. "Faking it huh?" He pressed his other hand down against your abdomen, shoving another finger inside of you and increasing the speed of his thrusts. "Let's see how well you can fake it, then."

You could hardly contain your squeal as all three fingers quirked up, jackhammering into your sweet spot, his other hand pressing hard against your bladder to let you feel the pressure building up. His thumb toyed with your clit, swiping quick circles, and the sloppy lewd sounds of your wet pussy filled your room with undeniable proof. You dug your nails into his wrists, almost hard enough for him to bleed, but he didn't stop, licking his lips as if he could already taste your orgasm on his tongue.

He buried his fingers as deep as he could manage, grinding his thumb against your clit as you whimpered underneath him. A sadistic smile spread on his face as he leaned in closer, making you hear how your wet pussy swallowed his fingers. "Want me to stop? I can always leave you here like this, since you hate it so much."

You quickly shook your head, already wanting to cry at the thought, and your chest burned with humiliation as he laughed at you. He slipped his pinky into you as well, four fingers filling and stretching you, his thrusts brutal as he slammed them into you. He barely managed to squeeze all four of his digits into you, your tight cunt practically strangling them as you clenched down. "No? Don't stop? Thought you were faking it, baby."

"Please, don't... don't..!"

Your unfinished sentence hung in the air as your ass rose from the mattress, liquid spilling out of you and splashing onto Jungkook's clothes and the mattress. He cursed, fucking you harder with his fingers, wringing out every drop you had to over until you were left trembling like a leaf. His eyes looked practically insane, dark and enamored in how you fell apart beneath him, only making him want more.

When you collapsed back down, he finally pulled out, grinning as he took a long lick along his hand, tasting your cum. You were left flushed and breathless, mind blank as you tried to process the fact Jungkook had just made you squirt like that.

"Tell me you faked that. Go ahead. Try." You couldn't, there was no use, and he knew it. He chuckled, slapping his wet hand against your puffy sex, cruelly laughing at how your hips jumped again. "Can't believe you have such a weak pussy, cumming so easily from just my fingers. Fucking squirted everywhere, ruined my clothes. You should apologize."

"You... You made your point—"

You weren't able to finish, Jungkook's hand wrapping around your throat to cut you off.

"Shut up."

He clambered over you between your thighs, other hand coming up to your mouth. He pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, and you obediently opened, letting him in and sucking on it, tasting some of your arousal on him. He ground his hips against yours, and you felt the thick, heavy bulge press against you.

His fingers tensed around your neck, a small whimper passing through as you stared up at him with wide, deceitfully innocent eyes.

"Aw." He smirked, tilting his head at you. "You're actually kind of cute like this."

You opened your mouth to make some sort of retort, but he squeezed again, halting any bratty comment you were about to make.

"Should've fucking known. The sudden obsession with my notes. The random laundry hours. The way you'd spend forever in your room fucking yourself with your vibrator. How you'd stare at me like you wanted me to destroy you, just like this." He pressed his thumb against your tongue, pinning it down. "Open."

You did as you were told, parting your mouth as he pursed his lips, letting a wad of spit dangle down his tongue and into your waiting mouth. He pulled out his thumb. "Swallow."

Obediently, you did so, feeling Jungkook's palm pressed against your throat as you swallowed.

His fingers flexed around the column. "Want me to fuck your throat? Want me to suffocate you on the cock you've been fucking obsessing over?"

You nodded eagerly, only to be delivered a sharp slap to your mouth. Your jaw tingled with delicious pain, a dull throb starting as he glared down at you with absolute disgust. Most embarrassing of all was the unabashed moan that unintentionally escaped your lips as soon as he hit you.

"You don't deserve it," he spat. "Say it."

"I..." You swallowed again, harder now with how Jungkook's hand tightened on your neck. "I don't deserve it."

"Deserve what?"

"I don't deserve to suck your cock!" Jungkook finally let go of your throat, and you sucked in greedy amounts of air as oxygen refilled your lungs.

"That's right," he tsked, finally pulling back. "Brats like you don't deserve shit from me."

He hooked his hands under your knees, forcing them up and folding you in half, pressing them into your shoulders. Your bare cunt twitched under his harsh stare, and you tried to reach for him to no avail. All of your holes were exposed, his for the taking.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy." He admired your messy cunt in awe, watching how you quivered in anticipation of what he'd do next. "Can't believe you've been keeping this from me."

Unable to resist any longer, he dove in, burying his tongue in you as far as it would go, mashing his nose up against your clit as he breathed you in. You moaned, fingers tangling into his locks, tugging at the strands as he went as deep as his jaw would allow. "Jungkook!" You cried, gasping at the sensation.

"Like this?" He mumbled into you, coming up for air just for a second to spit on your pussy, licking a broad stripe up your core. "Like the man you hate eating your nasty little cunt?"

You felt your cheeks burn at his dirty words, squirming as he attached his mouth again, the tip of his tongue flicking up and down your clit without hesitation. He sucked on it before slurping up the wetness that came pouring out of you, the sloppy, obscene sounds only adding to your further embarrassment. You couldn't even do a good job at pretending to hate this anymore. It was clear to both you and Jungkook that you were loving every second.

"This weak pussy gonna cum for me again?" He asked, making eye contact as he licked up your pussy again, watching you whimper as the tip of his tongue brushed your clit. "Gonna show me how pathetic you really are?"

Your hand curled into a fist in his hair, making his scalp sting. You held on to whatever remnants of your pride was left. "I-I won't!"

"Mm, you will," he smiled against you, and you felt the insertion of two digits again, curling back into the spot that destroyed you before. You moaned, head tilting back as you knew you were already done for. "Want me to fuck up this pussy so bad. Don't even need my dick to break you. You're such a desperate slut, you'd take anything."

You nodded, knowing everything he said was factual. You didn't even have the will-power to deny it.

"You don't even deserve to feel this good," Jungkook growled, glaring down at you, his fingers vicious as they pounded into you. The wet squelch from between your thighs, and how you clamped down on his fingers like a vice, let him know you knew it was the truth. "Yet here I am, being so fucking nice to you, when you've been nothing but a bitch to me for years."

His mouth latched on your clit again, giving harsh sucks until your thighs quaked, and you were gushing into his mouth all over again. You felt your eyes begin to cross, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, and all you could feel was Jungkook's lips around your clit and his fingers curling inside you, pressed right up on the spot that had you seeing stars.

Your legs finally fell back flat on the bed, and your chest rose and sunk with every breath you took. Jungkook's mouth detached from you, a smirk of satisfaction on his glistening face and rosy lips.

"You didn't even pretend to fight it on that one. Don't tell me you're giving up already," he snickered, spreading your pussy with his thumbs, watching it twitch and quiver in your post-orgasmic state. "I've barely even started."

He manhandled you over on your stomach, pulling your ass into the air and slapping it hard enough for your entire cheek to sting.

"Y-You're so f-fucking mean," you whined.

"Yeah? Hearing you cry like that only makes me want to be meaner," he grinned, gripping your ass with both hands and spreading your cheeks to expose your holes, your wet pussy not helping your predicament. He dug his nails in before smacking the already sore cheek. "I can't help that you like to get fucked like this."

You yelped, turning back to him with tears in your eyes. "S-Sadistic bastard," you hissed.

"Masochistic slut," he smiled, spanking your other cheek.

Finally, you heard the rustling of clothes behind you, and you couldn't help but crane your neck to finally, finally see what you've been waiting for all this time.

You stared at the literal dick of your dreams, gigantic and thick, everything you had imagined and more. He was hung as hell, just like you dreamed. Jungkook's monster cock looked like it should only belong in porn. It didn't help that Jungkook was unfairly, haughtily, and all to aware of this, his cocky grin as he tugged his shirt over his head telling you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"Big enough for you princess?" He mocked, his voice teasing. His body was a perfect match for his dick, large and hard and perfectly built to wreck you. "Is it exactly like you dreamed of?"

You hated how he read you like an open book, knowing he didn't even ask. He just wanted to humiliate you even more. Defiantly, you eyed up his cock, jutting up your chin at him. "I expected better."

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared at your brattiness. "Yeah?" He gripped onto your hips, sliding your skirt to bunch up your waist further. "You should have no problem taking it, then."

You immediately regretted your decision when he shoved your head down into your pillows, tapping the head of his cock against your folds with wet smacks. His grip on your ass was possessive, fingers digging in as he teased his cockhead against your hole, barely thrusting in half an inch in and out as your pussy made loud, filthy noises. Even with how dripping wet you were and the two orgasms prior, you weren't sure if you'd be able to take him in the same way you had in your fantasies.

Still, the way he barely let you feel the tip was driving you crazy. You gnawed at your lip, trying to push back to have him sink into you, but his grip on your hips was too strong. "Just put your stupid dick in me already!"

"Oh? So much attitude." He sunk in a bit further, the head of him inside you now, and how thick it already felt made your thighs quiver at the prospect. "Want me to fuck up your insides so bad but can't even ask nicely. Stupid brat still needs to be put in her place."

He gave you another inch, laughing at how you quieted down, savoring how your walls flitted around him, trying to accommodate his intimidating girth.

"Oh? So quiet now. Why's that?" He slid in a bit more, hissing at how you squeezed him so tight. You on the other hand, gripped onto the bed sheets, rendered silent as you pondered how you were really going to fit all of him in you like this. "Where'd all that bitchiness go?"

Jungkook was met with resistance as he forced himself in you a bit further, and hissed with how you practically strangled his cock. He tried to pull his hips back and fuck you shallowly, but the way you gripped him tight like you didn't want to let him go made it difficult. "Fuck, how're you still so tight? You're so fucking wet, made you squirt everywhere, and you're still choking on me like crazy."

"It's your fault!" You popped your head up to glare at him over his shoulders, your eyes glassy with tears. "Your s-stupid dick is too big."

He let out a breathless laugh. "Really? You gonna start crying already?"

He shoved your head back into the pillows, mounting you as he bullied his cock deeper inside.

"I'm not even halfway in yet, princess." He pushed his hips in more, snickering at how you gasped and tears sprung at the corner of your eyes. "You talked such big game, but you're struggling to take me. What good even are you?"

You didn't respond, his words true and causing your face to heat up with embarrassment.

"Do you need help, baby?"

Weakly, you nodded, bruising your pride as you admitted defeat. Jungkook laughed at your expense, clearly enjoying watching you let go of your stubbornness. Slowly but surely, he was breaking you just as promised.

"Where's your vibrator?"

Your stomach did a flip.

"What?"

"Your vibrator. The one I had to hear you fuck yourself with basically every day? When I was just a few feet away?" He cracked his hand down on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in your bedroom. "Where is it?"

Warily, your eyes slid over to your nightstand, and Jungkook got the hint. Reaching over, he yanked out the drawer, your prized possessions revealed to him. Your handcuffs, rose toys, all of it was now privy to his scrutinizing gaze.

He clicked his tongue at the sight. "Well well, you've certainly got quite the collection, don't you?"

Humiliation heated your face, but somehow it only made you wetter, Jungkook's cock sliding in a bit deeper into your pussy. He hissed at the sensation.

"I think I'll go with this one."

Your eyes widened as he pulled out your favorite Hitachi wand, plugging the cord into the extension by your bed and having it whir to life. You tried to close your legs again, but Jungkook smacked one of your thighs, adjusting you so your legs spread even wider beneath him, your back dipping into a low arch. "None of that. You need help, remember?"

He brought the wand down beneath you, the buzzing head dangerously close to your dripping cunt. "This should do it."

He pressed it down against you, and you let out an obscene moan, legs starting to shake as you involuntarily sank down further against his cock. He only mashed it harder against your clit, loving how you unabashedly whined and kicked your feet as it overwhelmed you, your incessant moans too much to even try and hide.

"Thaaaat's it. Look how you're opening up for me." He was already more than halfway in you now, able to feel the vibrations of the wand on his dick as your walls slicked up more, welcoming him much quicker. Drops of you were starting to spill onto your sheets again, ruining them. "Good girl, you're almost there. Doing so good. You're taking me so well."

You were so glad Jungkook couldn't see your expression, the way your eyes were starting to cross and your toes were curling, your orgasm building up as he nuzzled the head deeper against your folds, making you feel every vibration as his cock plunged further and further into you.

Right when you felt your orgasm approach, he slammed completely into you, cockhead spearing to the deepest part of you against your cervix, hitting sweet spots you thought you only imagined, his balls flushed against your sopping folds. He pulled the vibrator away, turning it off, forcing you to feel the way you took all of him, and how so very full you were.

Even without the added stimulation of the Hitachi, you thought you were going crazy, clambering at the sheets as you tried to pull your hips back from him for mercy. He didn't give it to you, though, hips pushing forward with yours, forcing you to stay full and feel the way he stretched you completely. He ground as deep as he could against you, wanting you to feel every part of him.

"Don't run from it. You begged for this, remember?" He squeezed onto your hips, keeping your ass flush against him, not letting you escape. "That was what the vibrator was for."

Your legs trembled underneath you, his cockhead rubbing so deeply in you you felt your belly bulging beneath you. He wasn't even moving and you felt like you were going to burst.

"F-Fuck, Jungkook, please please please—" You dropped your head into your again pillows, babbling out nonsense into the cotton as he pressed his hips as hard against you as he could, feeling your gummy walls swallow him.

"Such a good pussy. Can't help but want to bully it even more," he rasped to himself, balls snug against your clit. Your arousal was coating even his thighs now, a large wet spot darkening on your sheets beneath you as you continued to drip. "Is this why you give me so much attitude all the time? Just hoping I could put you in your place like this? Use you however I want, just like you dreamed? "

You nodded into the pillow, turning your face, one tearful eye staring at him with pleas. "Yes, please just..."

"Just what?" A sadistic grin appeared on his lips. "Move?"

You don't even get the time to respond as he pulled his hips back, leaving just the fat head in you before slamming back in, the brutal thrust making your legs shake. His balls smacked against your clit and pressed against you as he leaned all his weight on you, and before you knew it you were cumming.

Your hands balled into fists as you let out a moan, and your mind went blank, unable to even worry about the noise complaints that were sure to follow in the morning.

Jungkook's evil laugh echoed in your ear as he watched you fall apart beneath him, his hands being the only thing holding you up. "Did you seriously just cum?" You wanted to slap the shit eating grin off his face. "You really are fucking weak."

He pulled back out again, thrusting into you, watching you scramble as he wrecked your pussy, repeatedly hitting those sweet spots over and over again. He leaned down, letting go of one of your hips to wrap his bicep around your throat, squeezing as he pulled you in to meet his thrusts, his other hand landing next to yours to keep himself up. You choked, face free from the pillows, tears streaming down your cheeks as he pounded into you, forcing you to take it like a good girl.

"So fucking pathetic," he cooed in your ear, his tone belittling with mock pity. "Wanted me to fuck you stupid when you're already fucking brainless."

You nodded in his hold, unable to do anything but agree and take it, his huge, pornstar cock destroying you with every passing thrust. He continuously grunted in your ear, his moans making your stomach churn as you heard how your pussy was wrecking him too.

"You really don't deserve such a good pussy, fuck," he cursed. "Shit's too good. Best pussy I've ever had, of fucking course it had to be you."

You felt the same way. You couldn't even process the fact that Jeon Jungkook of all people was giving you the best dick of your life. If someone told you that before the two of you moved in together, you would've had them checked into an asylum.

You used one hand that wasn't supporting yourself to grip onto his forearm, nails raking down it as you were forced to endure his brutal backshots. He growled in your ear, biting at the shell of it to give you a taste of pain too.

"S-So much," you gasped out. "Too deep."

"Yeah?" He yanked you up, straightening his back and arching yours as he forced you upright, bicep still curled around your neck. He pressed his hand on your stomach, the bulge protruding from you, moving as he pummeled into you. "Like it here? Like how fucking deep I am?"

You nodded, whining as he pushed down on you, pressure building.

His hand slid further down, toying with your clit, giving it that same mean pinch and rub that had you seeing stars. You were starting to go light-headed from his choking, the corners of your vision blurring, every little thing driving you mad. He twisted his arm, forcing you to turn your head toward him, and he captured your lips, forcing his tongue back in your mouth to make you go crazy, tasting him as he barreled into you.

"Dumb fucking slut," he mumbled against your lips.

You came again, going weightless in Jungkook's arms as your knees practically gave out, thighs quaking. You felt your arousal dripping down them and to your knees, and Jungkook fucked you through it, moaning as he felt your pussy spasm and clench around him like a vice.

He finally released you, unhooking his arm and letting you collapse face first into the bed, the strength drained from your body as he gripped back onto your hips, throwing your ass back to meet his thrusts. He planted both feet on the bed, squatting over you as he used your limp body like a toy, burying himself balls deep again as he unloaded inside of you.

"Fucking t-take it!"

You whined, feeling his cock twitch and move, pressed right against your cervix, the warm fluid coating your walls in white.

At last Jungkook pulled out, cock still heavy after he drained his balls in you, leaking with leftover cum. Some trickled out of your hole, and your hips slowly slid down as you laid flat against the mattress, thoroughly fucked out.

Jungkook ran a hand through his sweaty hair, breathing heavily as he took in your limp state. Flipping you onto your back, you couldn't even protest.

He dragged your skirt down your legs and undid your shirt, pulling the offensive material off to finally see your bare form. He squeezed one of your tits, fingers tugging at a nipple as he watched you writhe at his touch. He leaned in, biting and sucking at the skin available to him to cover you in bruises and marks, evidence that would last for days and remind you of how he completely dominated you.

"You were right, you know. Earlier." He panted, enamored at your stiff nipples, toying with them as he pleased. He sucked at your neck, giving a cruel nip before licking over the marks left behind. "If you were walking around the apartment in just a towel, I don't think I would've been able to resist this slutty little body. I would've ripped it off you and bent you over the nearest surface. I wouldn't even be able to hold myself back."

He pinched both nipples, pulling them up to make your back arch, your whines music to his ears.

Licking his lips, he smirked. "You probably wouldn't have even tried to stop me."

You weakly nodded as he finally let go of you, but your relief is short lived, hearing the sound of a loud buzz returning. Opening your eyes, you see the hitachi back in his hands, thrumming back to life, his smile sadistic as he took in your expression.

"W-Wait!" You tried to cross your legs, but he forced them apart again, hand shoving against a knee to expose your puffy core to him once more.

"Can't have you talking shit again, baby," he cooed, spreading your spent cunt and pressing the vibrating head against you. "Need to make sure you to know who you belong to."

You practically screamed feeling the vibrator on you again, Jungkook's cum gushing out of you as your pussy spasmed. It pooled beneath your ass onto the sheets, the white liquid spilling between your cheeks. You felt like such a hot, sticky mess, but Jungkook didn't seem to care. His grin only widened as he continued to torture you with pleasure.

"Look at me," he commanded, gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him, staring between his face and the vibrator in his hand as he pressed it harder against you. "Want you to remember it was me who did this to you. Made you a fucking mess for me."

You cried, the overstimulation hurting oh so good, an orgasm you couldn't even avoid threatening to take over again. You didn't even know you could cum this much; you thought it was only the thing of dreams, but Jungkook was intent on outdoing your fantasies and then some.

"Should've just come to me instead of scribbling in that stupid little book," he chastised, watching as he milked out all of the cum from your pussy. He should fill it back up when you're empty again. "Should've let me ruin you the way you always wanted. Could've just knocked."

"I-I didn't think—"

"You never think," he shot back. "Don't use that pretty little head of yours for anything except insults, trying to get under my skin. Just hoping I'd fuck you hard enough to get rid of that bitchy attitude."

You nodded in agreement, feeling another orgasm take over you.

"Are you going to cum again? C'mon, thank me when you do."

"Th-Thank youuu!" You shouted out the words as you came, thighs trembling to the same tune as the vibrator, eyes on Jungkook just like he demanded.

When your whimpers transitioned into weak pleas, he finally turned the vibrator off, having mercy on your poor, sweaty form. Grabbing the backs of your knees again, he folds you in half, latching his mouth on your pussy again and burying his tongue in deep. He scooped out whatever cum was left on his tongue before spitting it on your clit, taking one hand and rubbing the cum in circles over it with his thumb. He shuffled closer, cock hard again.

With the last bit of strength and sanity you could muster, you reached for it, feeling the girth in your hand and how you almost couldn't close it properly around him. You stroked it, still slick with your cum, heavy and hard. It was crazy to you that you had been able to fit all of it in you, and you were all too willingly about to do it again.

You aligned it with your entrance, biting your lips as you tried to get him to enter you again. Clearly, Jeon Jungkook had broken you not only in body, but in mind too.

He seemed to know it, too, following your direction and slowly pushing back into you. You realized how empty you had felt before, and how delicious it felt to be full again.

"Gonna stretch you out so you can only take my cock," he muttered to himself, sliding in further and further, the glide much easier than the first attempt. "Gonna shape this pussy to remember my cock. No one will be able to satisfy you anymore. Not your vibrator, not your small, useless fingers. No one."

You knew every word he said was the truth, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in until his pelvis was flush against yours, balls pressing against your ass, all of his cum pushed out of you and only adding to the slick slide of him as bottomed out.

His fingers entertained with yours, pinning your hands over your head as he pulled his hips back, thrusting into you slowly at first. "Tell me you're mine," he demanded, leaning down so your lips would barely touch, forcing you to share the same breath. His eyes locked with yours, staring intensely as he studied the dreamy, fucked out gaze in yours. "Say it. No one can get in this pussy as deep as I can. No one can satisfy you like me."

You nodded. "I'm yours. H-Have been for a while."

"Always have," he grunted, eyes twisting shut as he started to get rougher with his pounding. His hands squeezed yours almost painfully. "You were always fucking mine. You're gonna come to me from now on. Every time this pussy gets wet, every time you have some dirty fucking dream about me, you're going to tell me, got it?"

Your legs squeezed around him tighter, feeling his pelvis grind against your clit, the poor, overstimulated nub practically screaming from the pain. "Yes!"

"Every time you give me that bitchy little attitude and start shit for no reason, I'm gonna fuck it out of you." He growled out the words, kissing you again, letting you feel the hum emanating from his throat. He hammered against your cervix, hard enough for you to worry it would feel bruised. You knew you were going to be sore as shit come morning, perhaps the entire week. "Gonna fuck the shit out of you just the way you want, and you're gonna take it like a good girl."

You moaned against his lips, squeezing his fingers back, his thrusts heavy as his balls roughly slammed against your ass, the sound of skin against skin and your wet pussy swallowing him completely filling the room. He breathed heavily against you, head dipping down to bite into your shoulder, hard enough to leave marks.

"My slut," he rasped. "Mine."

Your pussy clenched around him as you came, and for the second time he unloaded inside you, your spasming cunt milking whatever was left of him into you. He groaned, mouth crashing to yours as his cock twitched inside you, pumping out his thick and heavy load, right against your cervix, making sure you took all of it. Your fingers tangled together with his, and you moaned one final time against his tongue.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, bodies intertwined, sweaty skin pressed against each other as you looked into each other's eyes, trying to catch your breath.

Jeon Jungkook had somehow managed to excel even your wildest fantasies, railing the absolute shit out of you, and you loved every second. You'd never be able to forget this, never live it down. It was something neither of you would be able to ignore, ever.

He finally pulled his body weight off of you, no longer crushing you and giving you more room to breathe. You missed his warmth already, but his hands stayed secured in your own, and his softening cock was still buried inside of you.

His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to see if you regretted it.

Finally, he spoke.

"You can yell at me all you want. Scream at me after this, bitch, I don't care," he said. "But I'm not letting you go. Never. You're stuck with me forever, got that?"

You swallowed, your heartbeat practically leaping out of your chest.

He bit his lip, eyes soft. "Is that ok now?"

You had been stuck with Jungkook your entire life. He was the one thing you had never been able to escape.

And for the first time you no longer wanted to.

You nodded, "I'd like that."

His deceitfully innocent bunny grin spread on his face, and he glanced over to the Calc 2 book that had been thrown aside. Reaching for it, he licked his lips.

“I guess it’s time to fulfill these requests, then.”

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #smut #bts smut #bts #bts jungkook #jeongguk smut #Jeon jeongguk #Jeon jeongguk smut #taehyung smut #Kim taehyung #Kim taehyung smut #Bts taehyung #bts v #bts kim taehyung

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erwinsvow · 4 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞 — 𝐚.𝐜.

summary: you take care of lena, clean up around the house, and always leave dinner for him when he gets home late. and among constant and never-ending change, you are andrew's northern star.

pairing: andrew cody x babysitter!reader

word count: 13.3k

warnings: read carefully! age-gap dynamics, reader is said to have recently graduated college, i basically ignore anything from the show that wouldn't make sense in my perfect little world. smut—arm humping, oral sex, penetration, the tiniest bit of breeding if you squint real hard.

author's note: and here she is. also known as shea wants to write about doing things to pope's arms.

you used to complain if someone called you their nanny. you’re just a babysitter. this would not—could not—be your full time job. it’s just so demanding. you love the kids you take care of but the idea of saying that you’re a nanny makes it a little more real. like you wouldn’t be able to get out of this, despite how hard you’re trying.

you just don’t want to be a babysitter forever.

but the first time mister cody introduces you as lena’s nanny, you don’t think you mind it all that much.

babysitters are temporary—girls in high school looking for money to pay for coffee and nail appointments, covering date-nights and overtime at the office.

nannies are permanent—it’s a career. you’re responsible for the kid pretty much twenty-four hours a day. kids with nannies are rich, mom and dad too busy at work to be at home. from the little you deduced, nannies buy groceries and make three meals. they go to doctor’s appointments and organize play-dates with other nannies.

you do some of those things for lena. her uncle tries to take her and pick her up from school when he can, and when he calls to tell you that he won’t be able to make it every now and then, he sounds so sorry about it, you don’t know what you can do to reassure him that it’s okay. lena’s young, she doesn’t care about stuff like that so deeply. and she likes you, which helps matters a lot.

you had finished the last few classes you needed to graduate a couple months ago. before that, you’d have to tell mister cody no, i’m sorry occasionally, something that you really didn’t like doing. he seemed like he had enough going on without the babysitter cancelling.

and besides, after you had told him that your classes were done, you were supposed to tell him that you would be looking for a real job, something with your degree, that he should start looking for a real nanny for lena. you were supposed to politely, yet firmly allude to how you’d been scrambling with classes, finishing assignments in the car in between picking up his niece and after she’d fallen asleep at night. how you missed an important lecture because the pediatrician’s office was running behind an hour and lena’s grandmother wasn’t available to take her.

instead, the second you had met his eyes (which were terribly green and incredibly sad), you had folded, and told him you’d be available whenever he needed. and you thought maybe that would garner you a smile—and you’d been wrong. he had looked your way for about five seconds, muttered thank you, and walked away.

and maybe if you could resist those terribly green and incredibly sad eyes, you wouldn’t have wound up as a full-time nanny. life could always be worse—that’s the motto you’ve grown up with. there are so many worse things in oceanside than spending every day in a pretty house by the beach and taking care of a quiet little girl.

if not anything else, you could start making payments on your student loans, if you wanted. mister cody paid you in cash, and he paid you way too much, probably his way of apologizing for how much you had stepped up in the last couple months. but again, you didn’t really mind anymore. maybe if it was another family, you would care more about finding a real job.

but you like lena. you like her uncle, too, you think, as much as you can like a man who is virtually silent and stares at you like he’s boring into your soul when you’re making dinner. you like him because he’s good with her, you can always tell he’s trying his absolute best, his hardest with her. (it doesn’t help that he’s cute—cute in the way that strays are, like you wish you could fix everything wrong with him and reassure him that he’s doing enough, and tell him to stop staring and just come tell you what he’s thinking instead.)

the first couple months were the hardest. lena wasn’t eating, wasn’t sleeping. she hated school, hated all the things she had still cared for when her dad was alive. you’d tried bribing her with trips to the beach, the playground, ice cream with extra fudge and sprinkles. all the things that kids liked. but she wasn’t just a normal kid—and it seemed that you and her uncle were the only ones who understood this.

you didn’t realize you had such a maternal instinct inside of you. maybe it’s because the other kids you’d babysat in your life had been brats, sticky handed toddlers going through the terrible twos and making your life hell while you were trying to pass your classes. lena is the opposite.

she’s the saddest child you’ve ever met, and you know nothing that you or her uncle do is going to fix it overnight.

but progress comes in stages. the first step had been getting her to want to eat again. you’d sat on the couch next to her, watching a nature documentary that her uncle had probably left playing on the tv.

(he is a whole other can of worms—he doesn’t sleep or eat that much either, and one time you had come in really early to get some work done before getting her to school. he’d been awake, watching something just like this, at five-thirty in the morning. and when you’d asked him when he’d gotten up, he had shrugged, and murmured something that sounded suspiciously close to i don’t sleep. that’s your next mission, because you can only focus on one at a time.)

“you hungry, sweetie?” you didn’t want to be pushy. she wouldn’t like that, would only retreat further into herself. you wanted her to come to you when she was ready to eat. lena shook her head and focused back on the television. “okay. well, if you get hungry later, i’ll eat with you.”

lena says okay in her quiet voice, holding onto a stuffed animal and staring ahead. you wait a couple of hours—there’s always something to do in the house. you clean up, wiping counters and sweeping while she stays on the couch. you check in every now and then to make sure she didn’t fall asleep.

and then, thirty minutes before her new bedtime, she comes and sits on the chair by the dining table while you’re wiping it down.

“can we get pizza?” she asks, and you nod right away.

“of course we can. what kind do you want?”

another thirty minutes later, the pizza’s there, and you’re both eating slices of pepperoni and spinach. you’ve formulated your plan for the rest of the night—her uncle’s still not home, which means you can crash on the couch or stay awake. you decide to stay awake, since there’s no follow up text from him. if he wasn’t going to come home tonight, you’d expect the standard, concise message; won’t be back tonight. is lena okay?

and you’re stupid, because you think it’s sweet that he always asks if she’s okay. like you wouldn’t call him the second something went wrong, like he doesn’t believe that you’d trust him with that information before anyone else. but there’s no texts tonight from the contact you’d saved as andrew cody (lena’s uncle).

lena’s finishing her last slice and you’re cleaning up when you hear it—the rumble of his truck pulling up to the house. then a minute later, footsteps and the front door opening.

“what’s all this?” he asks, and you have to remember to find the words.

you don’t know why that happens when he comes around—you’re usually great with dads. maybe it’s because he looks tired, more tired than usual, at least. his copper curls are messed up, like he’s been running a hand through his hair all night. lena’s uncle is always stiff, but it seems worse today, somehow.

(another thought seeps in, an uninvited guest in your mind, about how you’d really like to take care of him. he just needs some sleep, a little peace of mind. that’s it. you’re still trying to figure out the best way to give it to him.)

“we got pizza, uncle pope,” lena fills in, setting down the last piece of crust you knew she wouldn’t finish.

“there should be enough for you,” you add, smiling at him. he doesn’t smile back, but you’re used to that at this point. and you can tell what’s about to come. “lena, can you go brush your teeth and get your pajamas on for me?”

she nods and climbs off the chair, running into her room.

“it’s past her bedtime,” he starts, taking a few steps closer to you. “and pizza for dinner-”

you interrupt him, even though you probably shouldn’t. you close up the box, setting it on the island and you go back to wipe the table.

“she’s not eating, mister cody,” you put the paper towel down, getting your bearings in order to face him, make the dreaded, never-ending eye-contact. “when kids don’t eat you have to meet them halfway. i thought this was better than her going to bed without eating at all.”

he keeps looking at you. you think you should be a little nervous, but you don’t get like that anymore. flustered, sure, but not nervous—lena’s uncle is just kind of a starer, and you’ve gotten used to it by now.

“i’m sorry. i’ll run it by you next time, i promise. i just wanted her to eat something.” he’s silent for a while, like he’s processing what you said.

“yeah. okay. thanks.”

you smile again, a small one. the kitchen’s clean now, or at least as clean as you can get it. you’re sure that when you’re back in the morning, it’ll be spotless, which you can only assume is one of mister cody’s nocturnal activities. you have a routine before leaving—you say goodnight to lena, make sure you didn’t leave anything behind, and tell her uncle you’ll see him in the morning.

he doesn’t normally say anything back, maybe a grunt of acknowledgement. so you’re surprised tonight, when you grab your bag and your keys and hear—

“have a good night.”

“you too, mister cody.”

it took time, but you’ve gotten her schedule better. she eats dinner with you now, whatever semi-healthy thing you can think of with the stuff in the pantry and the groceries you picked up while she’s at school. her uncle leaves money for that sort of thing—an envelope filled with hundred dollar bills. it’s labeled lena’s babysitter in stiff, neat handwriting and he told you to use it for copays and ice-cream and anything else that lena needs. but it feels wrong to use his money when he already overpays you, so you just use your own.

you thought he might not have noticed that the envelope isn’t getting any thinner, until one morning when you arrive and see him counting the notes in it with his head down. now you’re the one staring—watching his arm flex and the muscles move as he flips through the bills. he wears the same kind of shirts every day, short sleeve button-ups, and every day, you are subject to watch his forearms while he does whatever he does. it’s a cruel and unusual punishment.

the worst had been when you needed a box down from the cabinet, the one with the muffin tins and cookie cutters. he had appeared behind you and taken it down for you in seconds, carrying it to the kitchen for you. you had been staring then too, uncomfortable and slack-jawed and wondering why his arms had your mouth dry. (you know the answer, it’s just better to live in denial, you think.)

“good morning, mister cody.” you set your bag down on the sofa, heading inside to get started on breakfast. you open the fridge, taking out a carton of eggs and orange juice and avoiding looking right at him. you don’t need to be flustered before seven-thirty am.

“you haven’t been using this money,” he states. you wish you could figure out what his tone means—there’s no inflections, no emotion simmering behind the words. it’s just cut and dry, stating a fact.

“well, i-” you turn back and look up from the stove and your words die on your tongue. he’s standing up, looking right at you, a fist full of cash like he’s going to make you use it one way or another. a single vein running through his arms tenses. your gaze flickers from it to his eyes quickly, looking at you like he wants you to start listening to him.

“i, um, i had enough.”

“you should use it.”

“but you already gave me a lot, so i-”

“i want you to use it.” the way he says it, it’s not a request.

“right. i-i will. is lena awake?”

“she’s getting ready.”

“great. thank you.” you turn back to the eggs with a flushed face. and even though you’re not facing him anymore, you can tell he’s still staring at you.

“i might not be back tonight.” you turn around and meet his eyes again. terribly green, incredibly sad. you’re too far now to see the brown, but you know it’s there. “i…i’ve got some work. it’ll be late, if i do.”

“thank you for the heads up. i, uh, i’ll crash on the couch then.” you think he might say something else, but you’re not sure. it’s silent for a moment, while you get the eggs onto a plate and hurry into the hallway to get lena.

she comes out first, carrying her backpack. you follow with her hairbrush for once she’s done eating, getting her already packed lunch out from the fridge to sort into her bag. there’s a whole routine that you had learned when you first started babysitting her, and now it’s just a way of life. filling up her water bottle, checking the calendar on the fridge to make sure there’s nothing you’re missing, pulling her jacket from the closet if it’s cold outside.

you get the bottle out, glancing back at her uncle. he’s leaning in while lena takes a bite of the eggs, probably telling her that he won’t be home, and to have a good day, and all the other things you’re sure he says to her. then they hug, and you feel like you’re intruding.

he picks up his keys, which rest in the small blue bowl by the door where yours sit too. and without thinking, you call out after him.

“have a good day at work.” he doesn’t say anything back, but he looks at you before he leaves. you don’t even know what he does for work.

“ready for school?” lena shakes her head no like always.

the days are long, but the weeks are short. you bring lena to school, but they have a half-day, so there’s no point in going home for the day if you need to be back in a couple of hours. so you head back to mister cody’s place, focusing your attention on cleaning the remnants from breakfast. you check the fridge, making note of how much fruit and milk you have left, scribbling onto a piece of paper for later. and for once, you listen to him, taking a single bill out of the envelope and putting it into your wallet. there’s other hundred dollar bills in there too, ones you need to deposit.

it hasn’t been making sense lately. a lot of nannies live with their families because it avoids the wastefulness of paying rent for an apartment you hardly ever visit. you pay internet and electric for a one-bedroom that’s empty the entire day. and now that you’re done with classes, you don’t even need to work on anything late at night or even at lena’s house. you carry around a book with you, and you think you’ve even left a couple on the coffee table, just for the future.

you don’t know why you still have your apartment. well, you know why—mister cody has never mentioned you moving in. and he probably never will, because he doesn’t want you to. but it just doesn’t make sense the more you think about it. you show up between six and seven and sometimes you don’t go home until ten. sometimes you don’t go home at all.

after making your list, you rack your head of things you can do to occupy lena’s time today. the library has a weekly reading, and there’ll be other kids there. you like to pick things so she can get some company from kids her age, so she’s not only stuck with you and her uncle all the time.

closer to when school gets out, you get in the car, bringing in your emergency bag with a change of clothes and your toothbrush since you’ll be staying the night. it’s not an entirely uncommon occurrence, which is why the bag, and a couple others like it, is always ready to go. you go to the bank first, depositing everything except the single hundred-dollar bill you took today. then you drive by the park, see if they’re having any of those pet-therapy sessions today. and then finally school to pick up lena.

the rest of the day goes how you planned. you forget how exhausting it is keeping a little kid entertained for hours on end, unsure of exactly what her uncle pope and his brothers do with her sometimes, when you struggle to fill up a couple of extra hours. the grocery store—where you splurge and buy ingredients to make stove-top smores because lena asks and you’ll take your wins where you can get them—then the library, where you take out a couple of books for lena to read at home and smile when she’s talking with some of the other girls there, then the playground for an hour, before home for dinner.

you make spaghetti while she finishes her homework, and review her homework while she changes into pajamas. and then it’s time for the routine she loves so much, just like her uncle, a nature documentary about penguins while you toast the marshmallows on a fork.

an hour later, lena’s asleep in bed, and you’re scrubbing hardened chocolate off the counter next to the stove. you don’t want more work for her uncle when he’s back, and you’ve learned lena’s a heavy sleeper, so you get to cleaning. it’s not like, as pathetic as the thought is, you have anything better to do.

and then about two hours after that, it’s eleven-thirty. it’s right around the latest that mister cody has ever come home, so you’re pretty sure he won’t be back tonight.

the only thing you have to look forward to in your apartment is the shower you take after a long day. you’ll have to make do with the shower inside the room where mister cody sleeps, since lena’s is close to her room and filled with products for an eight year old, and at the very least, you need adult shampoo and soap.

the room is bare—you would have guessed it’s a guest room if you didn’t know better. you’re not nosy, but you look around, trying to see if there’s anything there that makes the room her uncle’s. you know there’s still another bedroom, the one her parents used to share, since lena sometimes goes in there when she can’t sleep. so this was a guest room, and now it’s mister cody’s, and now you’re lurking in it.

besides for a closet full of clean-pressed button up shirts and organized shoes, you can’t discern anything that makes this room his. there’s not a single thing out of place, from the garden-variety decor that someone else had picked to the artwork to the sheets. the bathroom is more of the same, the entire place having that lemon-cleaner smell to it.

you turn the water on and strip, trying to avoid thinking about how you’ll be sleeping on the couch after this. and even inside the shower, you stare at the two-in-one shampoo bottle and the old spice body wash—old spice. who would have thought?—like you can’t believe what you’re looking at. you inhale the scent for longer than you need to. wrap yourself in a clean towel that doesn’t belong to you. brush your teeth with his spearmint toothpaste. and then you open your overnight bag, and find nothing but sundresses and bathing suits.

it’s past midnight, and you’ve grabbed the wrong bag. you need to get up in about six and a half hours to get lena ready for school, and you’re not positive you have the correct bag in the back of your car.

hesitantly, you open one of the dresser drawers. there’s black and white t-shirts folded precisely, tucked in evenly. one drawer up there’s folded socks and boxers.

you chew on your cheek. he did say that he won’t be home tonight. there’s no way he would know you took anything if you ran a load of laundry as soon as you woke up and folded it after morning drop-off. he might not even be home until the afternoon or evening, for all you know.

your tiredness makes the decision for you. the couch isn’t that comfortable, and you refuse to sleep in the shirt and jean skirt you spent all day in. you take a white shirt and black boxers, and then sneak back in for a pair of black socks because the living room is cold at night. and then you set your alarm, turn on another documentary—this one about hummingbirds, wrap yourself in the throw blanket on the couch, and close your eyes.

andrew comes home at quarter to three. it would have been a lot sooner—he doesn’t like leaving you alone here at night with lena if he can avoid it—but he doesn’t always have control over it. a bullet had grazed deran and he’d spent two hours cleaning up that mess, and then they had to organize their splits before leaving. he had to make sure to stay for that—he needs the cash to pay you, rent for baz’s place, money to put into lena’s savings account.

but he hates leaving you alone in the apartment with lena. not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he knows now it’s not safe, not without him there. he likes to get you home early but it’s rarely the case, and then he feels like he should pay you extra since he’s making you drive home alone in the dark.

telling you to stay is a better option. you can sleep in his room—it’s not like he’s going to sleep in there anyways. but he doesn’t say that, doesn’t need the nanny thinking there’s something wrong with him too. so he settles for telling you to stay the night, and letting you decide where you’ll sleep.

you always pick the couch. and sometimes, he’s not back early enough, sometimes you’re already up making breakfast or gone out for the day with lena by the time he’s back.

but tonight, you’re asleep on the couch. he sets down the bag with the cash on the couch, hovering over you. the television is still on, stuck on a are you still watching? screen, covering up a photo of some birds. a breath leaves him when he realizes you’re watching what he always watches. you’re knocked out—he can tell since the front door opening didn’t wake you like it sometimes does. you’ve kicked away the blanket you usually use, and he thinks for a second he should just cover you up and let you sleep.

but he doesn’t. he stands over you, staring at your sleeping form. he doesn’t like it—how pretty you are when you sleep. it’s a distraction that he can’t escape, knows that the next time he closes his eyes, he’ll think of you. that the next time he sits on this couch, he’ll be able to smell your skin. you snore softly, chest rising and falling evenly.

and then he notices it—the plain shirt, black socks with a familiar logo. are those his boxers? and now he definitely can’t look away. he puts the pieces together—your hair is wet, meaning you must have showered and then put on his clothes before coming back out here. if you were going to do all of that, why didn’t you just sleep in his room?

yes, pope decides, he needs you to sleep in his bed. he needs the couch anyways, since he won’t be sleeping, so he might as well bring you inside.

he lifts you carefully, not wanting to stir you accidentally. his shirt is a little big on you, hanging off your shoulder. you stay sound asleep the entire short walk to his bedroom, not stirring even when he sets you down. you must have been really tired, but that makes sense, given the fact that you’ve been out all day with lena.

he thought about sticking a tracker on your car, but the first time he was taking care of lena, after baz, you had shared your phone’s location with him so he could keep track. you had offered it, voluntarily, saying something about how that’s common with babysitters now, and that you never go anywhere without your phone so he won’t have to worry about you leaving it at home.

you thought reassuring him that he would always have lena’s location in his phone would make him feel better. and maybe it had, but he’d never mentioned it again after that day, never brought up if he actually checked it or not.

(it’s not like you would know if he was using it, it doesn’t work like that. deran had explained it to him.) he did check it, pretty frequently, actually. he checked it after you’d leave when he got home, after lena was asleep. he’d watch your little circle drive home and pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex. it wasn’t as bad of an area as it could be, but it wasn’t that safe either. he liked to check it every now and then too, middle of the night, saturday evenings when he was home with lena and you got to leave early or had the day off.

he assumed, somehow, that you’d be in bars or parties at your college, maybe. but when he looks at your location late at night, you’re always at home. he checks other times too—but he’s just trying to keep you safe. (that’s what he tells himself—that finding another babysitter than lena liked and that he trusted would be a hassle. he needs to keep you safe.)

but it doesn’t seem like you like any of that stuff. he’s never seen you drink the beer in the fridge, though you offer one to him every now and then. you’ve met smurf and deran and craig before, like when you’d go to drop off lena before one of your classes, back before you had finished school.

you were smart—he knew that much. that was the kind of good example he needed around lena, someone who had gone through school and finished. he didn’t know what your degree was in, but it must’ve been something smart, something important. you were always typing on your computer and reading books. whatever it is that you studied, he wants someone in lena’s life that can help her with that stuff, stuff he doesn’t know much about, when it’s time.

you were smart enough to turn down every joint or bump that craig offered. you never accepted a drink from smurf that didn’t come from a can that you opened yourself. and baz used to tell him that you were just a local college kid, that you didn’t have any family nearby or anyone to occupy your time, really.

it didn’t make sense—pretty girl like you. he would have thought you had a boyfriend, but if you do, you’ve never brought him around. and if he didn’t live with you or live at that coffee shop you liked that was down the street from your apartment, then he didn’t know if you even had one. maybe he shouldn’t spend any time thinking about your hypothetical boyfriend, but that’s just what comes up sometimes when he thinks about you for too long. like right now.

you look peaceful lying in his bed. your eyes flutter quickly like you’re having a dream, and he sits on the bed next to you, watching you sleep. your hair falls across your face, and his finger twitches. he almost moves his hand to brush the hair away, but he decides not to, settling for just watching you for another minute or two.

the bed creaks slightly when he gets up. no one uses it much, so it’s a little weary. he doesn’t think the noise is anything, but your eyes blink open. the door’s open, light from the living room illuminating a sliver of the space.

he thinks he should get out before you can ask any questions, but he doesn’t, hovering over the bed while you look around.

“andrew?” and god if it doesn’t sound different coming from your lips. you’re too tired to remember that you usually stick with mister cody, which is so formal it hurts. it sounds real, sincere, not filled with fear or anger or anything else. you haven’t even said anything and he thinks he’s losing his mind.

it’s just the way you say it. there’s no question attached, no demand, no sacrifice. just you, making sure it’s him.

“that couch is bad for your back,” he says.

he knows it is, the couple times he tried to lay down and stare at the ceiling. he’s always sore, muscles screaming and joints aching but he knows how to ignore it. he doesn’t think you should start feeling like that. feels angry at the very idea that you would be sore after spending a night on the couch, taking care of his niece, looking after baz’s house. doing all the things that he’s too busy to do.

you take care of things. you do a good job too—figuring out how to get lena to eat and sleep again. making sure her routine doesn’t go awry just because he’s gone on a job all day. you remember things that he doesn’t even know about—activities with kids after school and how the school has soccer practice starting soon. you think a couple steps ahead when it comes to lena, and sometimes, he doesn’t think you see it as a job.

like when you make enough breakfast for the three of you. leave dinner on a plate inside the microwave with a note on the counter. when you clean like it’s your house, make sure things stay in the place they’re supposed to, which is so much harder when there’s a kid around. he’s not stupid—it’s why he gives you so much money each week, shoves an envelope into your hand despite your protests. why the first thing he does after he gets his cut is make sure you get yours.

and as hard as the thought is to swallow, he doesn’t think he could do all of this without you.

“mmh-” you agree, making a soft noise. he wishes he could engrain it into his brain and replay it whenever he wants. “i thought you don’t sleep?” you ask, and he sees your lips turn up into a smile. he wishes the lights were on.

“i try,” he replies, realizing that he’s still hovering over you. he wonders why you weren’t scared the moment you woke up. “sometimes. i try.”

“do you wanna try now?” you ask, whispering. and he goes silent—because what is he supposed to say that?

you reach out in the dark for his hand, and he flinches, taking it back. but you don’t retreat, reaching out again until you’re grasping his fingers.

“try for a couple hours. i set an alarm,” you say, and the way you say it, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. you have a way of convincing him, or maybe it’s just late and you’re tired, and your sleepy voice isn’t helping matters. nor does the fact that you don’t seem even remotely concerned that you’re inviting him to come sleep on the bed next to you.

you sit up a little, and he regrets even staying as long as he did. you need your sleep, unlike him. you’re still holding onto his hand, and your skin is warm on his. it couldn’t really be, but it feels like it’s burning his, where your palm rests against his, where your fingers twist with his.

“hey,” you start, slow and soft. “don’t think about it. just sleep for a little.”

“yeah,” he says. “okay. a little.”

you move over, and when he lays down—back straight against the mattress, staring up at the ceiling—it’s warm where your body was resting. you’re still holding onto his hand, not letting go. your grip is loose enough that he could free his hand easily, and even if it wasn’t, he could overpower you if he wanted.

but he doesn’t want to. and somewhere between your slow breaths and how you rub his knuckles, running your soft skin against dozens of old scars—because that’s his punching hand—andrew falls asleep.

you can hear it, his breaths getting steady, evening out. your hands stay together in the middle of the bed, between you, and you wonder for a split second how you’re going to deal with this in the morning, how you’ll make sense of this in daylight. the semblance of a professional relationship you had maintained this entire time might turn into dust in a couple hours. and then you breathe in andrew’s comforting scent, clean linen and saltwater, and fall back asleep.

the best thing about this house is the light and the waves. golden rays pour in through the half-way open blinds and you can hear the ocean crashing against the rocks in the distance. it’s the perfect way to wake up, even if it is six-thirty and your alarm is going off in the living room, where your phone must be.

you need to get up. you don’t want lena to wake up from the noise, even though you know she won’t—that girl can sleep through anything. it’s a problem for when she’s older, when she goes to college and there’s no one besides a roommate to make sure she doesn’t miss class. even half-asleep, you smile thinking about it.

and somehow, when you look on the other side of the bed, it hits you that it wasn’t a dream. andrew is asleep next to you, still in whatever clothes he was wearing throughout the day. a short sleeved button up and pants. you’re surprised that he didn’t fall asleep with his shoes on.

he looks very calm when he sleeps. the lines of tension on his forehead and around his eyes are soft when he’s like this, his hair a mess and cheek smushed against the pillow, against your hand.

he’s still holding your hand. it makes a certain kind of warmth rain all over you, flooding you from inside out. he’s on top of the covers and you’re under the throw blanket, and you don’t remember doing that, which means that he did.

an exhausted, half-asleep andrew cody covered you up before he fell asleep on top of the covers. he fell asleep holding your hand and your chest hurts because he won’t wake up holding it still, since you need to go turn that stupid alarm off.

he never sleeps, you know this. he’s never been asleep when you show up early, never heading to bed when you leave for the day. this bed is pretty much always made, sheets never rustled and not a pillow out of place because no one sleeps here. you hope you can start changing that.

you don’t want to pull your hand away from him. it’s so simple, so sweet that you can’t bring yourself to do it. that this whole time, andrew just needed someone to sleep beside him. you rest your head back on the pillow, continue staring, creepy as it is. you’ve never been able to study him like this before, have never been close enough.

the hand holding onto yours is softer than you’d imagined. the veins running through his forearm are thick and tense, even when he’s like this. you think it might be from how tightly he’s holding onto your hand, like even in his sleep he’s worried he might lose you somehow.

andrew cody has freckles—all across his arms and on his hands too. there’s a splatter of them across his nose and cheeks, places where he must have gotten burnt as a kid, maybe when he was lena’s age. the tips of his ears flush pink while he sleeps, and he snores. all things that make you smile, things that are so personal you feel your face getting warm, like you shouldn’t have access to that information.

you need to turn that god-damn alarm off, before it wakes him up. you think you’d rather die than disrupt the few hours of peaceful sleep he’s getting right now. so you wriggle your hand, trying to find the best way to get it out of his grip and make sure you don’t wake him in the process. nothing’s working, even in his sleep he’s thrice as strong as you. the generic alarm tone keeps going in the background.

you lean in, pressing a chaste kiss to andrew’s cheek, whispering that you promise to be right back. and for a split second he moves around, and you regain control of your tingling hand.

the bed creaks a little when you get up, but you do it slowly so it’s not too loud. walk to the couch as fast as your bare feet will take you, looking down and realizing you’re still in andrew’s socks.

(his shirt and boxers too, but you’re choosing to ignore that for now. if someone walked in through the front door in this moment, it would look like you and him were something other than a guardian and babysitter. you think you’d actually enjoy trying to see him explain to his brothers why you’re in his clothes head to toe. you might like this more than you think you did.)

you can hear the ocean again once the alarm is turned off. it’s a beautiful thing to wake up too, you think, pulling open the curtains and looking outside on the street. people are on runs, doing yoga on the beach, watching the sunrise with their dogs.

and inside, andrew cody is sound asleep.

the first part of your day is waking up lena. she grumbles and takes five, sometimes ten, minutes to get up after you go in there. in that time, you set out clothes for her and then head back to the kitchen. you have a habit of making sure her backpack has everything—the colorful pens she’s always telling you about and yesterday’s homework. if she forgot something at home, the school would call andrew, and then andrew would call you, and you hate adding more work to his life. so, you make sure it’s all there before she leaves.

then breakfast—eggs and toast if you’re running late, pancakes if you got there early. it’s seeming like a pancake sort of day.

you make the batter and then pull out the bag of chocolate chips and head back to lena’s room. you use the semi-sweet morsels as an incentive to get her up, which works like a charm. while she’s changing and brushing her teeth, you make three pancakes. two for lena, and the first one you peeled that’s never quite as good is for you.

lena comes to the table to eat her pancakes, and you tell her to stay just a little quieter than usual because her uncle pope is still sleeping.

“really?” she asks, and you feel something inside of you twist in discomfort. as if you had imagined before you met him, maybe he was sleeping, that maybe this was something recent. you smile at lena.

“yeah, sweetie, really.”

you bring lena to school, come back home, and check on andrew—who is still sleeping. you cover him up with the blanket you’d slept under and then make three more pancakes and some scrambled eggs. there’s no bacon in the house or you would have made that too.

you scribble it on the grocery list and then head back inside the bedroom, carefully perching yourself on the edge of the bed and maybe a little too comfortable, too quick, run your fingers through his messy hair. he sighs against the pillow and it makes you smile immediately. you keep going, fingers not stopping until you see his eyes fluttering open. you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, though you don’t want to stop either.

“i made breakfast,” you say quietly. andrew looks up at you, and then to your slept-in side of the bed. he moves, sitting up in the bed and you take back your hand tentatively. his hair is soft like you’d imagined.

he wipes his face with his hands, rubbing at his eyes. and when he looks at you, you feel any prudence that once was inside you melt away. well-rested, sleepy andrew cody, waking up in the bed you shared last night, while you tell him about the pancakes you made for him. you couldn’t have imagined this, for some reason, which makes it feel all the more real.

“what time is it?” he asks, in a gruff, sleepy voice.

“almost nine, i think.” he looks up at you quickly.

“lena?”

“i brought her to school already. you-you were sleeping. i didn’t want to wake you.”

“when did you get up?”

“six-thirty. my alarm. remember?” you do remember telling him about it before you fell asleep, one of the last things you had said in a conversation that feels like it was light-years ago.

“yeah.” you know better than to expect anything right now. he’s always been quiet, sentences curt and expressions relatively blank. you’ve had a few hours to simmer in it—think about what’ll happen tomorrow and next week and what it means to sleep in the bed next to the man whose niece you babysit. he just woke up a few minutes ago.

“well, there’s pancakes. and eggs. there’s no bacon but i’ll go get some later-”

“did you eat?” you catch his eye. perched on the bed next to him, you can see more than just green. brown too, around his pupils. not nearly as sad as they had seemed yesterday.

“yeah. i had one.”

“just one?” you don’t have an answer for that, but unusually confident, you stand up.

“i’ll have a bite of yours if you come eat with me.”

and though you couldn’t have imagined it last night, you end up leaning against the counter with andrew, splitting bites of chocolate-chip pancakes (yours drenched in syrup, his comparably dry as a bone), and luke-warm scrambled eggs.

he washes the dishes, and you put them away. it’s incredibly domestic.

“i’m sorry about your clothes,” you say, sliding a plate back into the cupboard. “um, i’ll wash everything today.” you had to bring it up at some point.

and then andrew turns to look at you. head to toe, he stares, gaze flicking up and down for what seems like eons. you don’t have a guess for why, maybe he’s trying to decide if he’ll accept your apology.

(he’s trying to memorize it, capture it like a picture in his brain, seal it up and hold onto it forever. how you look right now—his white shirt, with nothing underneath, which must be why he can see the outline of your breasts when you turn to put another dish away. his boxers, that you bunched up around your waist, his socks, one rolled up around your ankle and the other halfway up your calf. did you go to the school drop-off in his clothes, too?)

“and i can wash your jacket too, i’m sorry. it was kind of cold and i don’t know where my hoodie is. i-i’m sorry.”

he turns to look at you again. you seem worried, chewing on your cheek, waiting for his answer.

“don’t wash the jacket,” he says, and turns back to the sink. he doesn’t want it to stop smelling like you, but you don’t need to know that.

“yeah. sure. i won’t. sorry again, andrew.”

his heart thuds in this chest at the realization that you might never go back to calling him mister cody.

the two of you finish the dishes. he wipes up the counter while you put away lena’s things, and then he grabs his keys and puts on his shoes. you stand there watching, feeling awfully close to something like a wife watching her husband about to leave her for the day. and when you open your mouth, you can’t stop it from coming out.

“do you know when you’ll be back?”

“i’ll be here for dinner. can you pick up lena?” he doesn’t want to leave you, but there’s about ten texts and three missed calls on his phone that he needs to deal with. when he shrugs his jacket on, it does, in fact, smell like you. it might be enough to keep him calm the rest of the day.

“yeah, of course. well.. i’ll go start the laundry.” a vision of you peeling off your—his—clothes plagues his mind momentarily. “i’ll see you later?” you say, smiling hesitantly.

and without thinking too much about it, andrew comes up close to you, leans in a little awkwardly, and kisses your forehead.

“i’ll see you later.” he leaves you there in his shirt and socks, blinking stupidly at the door.

andrew does come back for dinner. you make an attempt at chicken parm at lena’s request, which really just turns out to be a sort of chicken parm-casserole situation, but lena likes it and the garlic bread tastes good, so you will call it a win for now.

while you’re simmering sauce and frying the cutlets, your mind flicks through everything you know about lena’s uncle. he’d never once been anything but nice to you—nice is one way to put it. polite is another. courteous, appropriate, reserved.

one night you had been waiting for him so you could leave, and he’d come home with lena’s other uncles. you had introduced yourself and smiled nicely, and when you left and gotten into your car, it hadn’t turned on. you remember debating if you should go back inside or just call triple a and wait, but somehow, andrew had known something was wrong. he had come out a few minutes later, told you that he would drive you home while his brother stayed at home and that he’d be back in a minute.

he’d dropped you off at home and told you he’d come get you in the morning. and you had slept anxiously that night, wondering what was wrong with your car and how much of a disturbance it would be to andrew to come get you.

but after the two of you had dropped lena off at school—again, disturbingly domestic—he brought you back to the house. and without any words at all, he worked on your car while you sat and watched. you held a flashlight when he needed it, and he said it shouldn’t happen again when he was done.

and you guess that’s the kind of man andrew cody is.

true to his word, andrew comes home in time to eat dinner with you and lena. after dinner, since it’s friday, you let her have a brownie and a half, the ones you’d made earlier that day. you have one too and you offer one to andrew, but he shakes his head, and you’re only mildly disappointed.

you haven’t been home, so you’re wearing one of the dresses from the wrong overnight bag you’d brought here. (your disappointment goes away when you notice that he hasn’t stopped staring at your exposed thighs since the minute he walked through the door.)

lena watches a cartoon before bed and you try to clean up the rest of the kitchen, but it’s hard, since andrew’s done most of the leg-work already. he tucks lena in and you gather your belongings—and true to your word, you did laundry and put his clothes back in the exact place you found them.

(you did steal another pair of socks, but you hardly think he minds now. he kissed you goodbye this morning like he was actually your husband, or something, and every minute you spend in this house washing dishes and scrubbing counters next to him is not helping. he stares at the straps of your dress like he could slip them off your shoulder with his mind, like it’s the only thing he’s thinking about. you don’t mind.)

“she’s out,” he says, coming back into the living room. you’re sitting on the couch, knees tucked to your chest while you change the channel to one of those documentaries you’ve been so fond of recently. you turn to smile at andrew and he comes and takes a seat next to you.

“that’s good. i can go soon.” but you make no effort to move, staring at the screen in front of you. this one is about sea-life, shades of blue flooding ahead of you both.

“you can stay,” andrew says, quiet like always. “if you want.” his voice is deep and gravelly, and the words he says scratch an itch somewhere deep inside of you, and the relief is visible on your body. you sink a little further into the sofa, knees falling next to andrew’s, thighs touching.

“if that’s okay with you.” you whisper it, as if saying it too loudly might make the entire idea crack open and fall apart.

you two stay like that for a while. you don’t know when, but andrew swings an arm around your shoulder, and you rest your head against his chest, collapsing into his comfortable grip. you can hear his heart beating, can feel every breath he takes. his hand brushes the top of your shoulder every time you breath, and his other hand is clasped with yours. you watch schools of fish and pods of dolphins, and you think that any other night, you could fall asleep like this.

“andrew?” you ask, still staring straight ahead. you brush your fingers over his knuckles like you had done last night, and you can feel his hand tense under your touch, until it finally relaxes. “do you want to go to bed?”

“yeah, kid,” he says. “let’s go to bed.”

and you’ll be damned if the domesticity doesn’t kick you in the stomach, sucker punch you in the chest and knock all the wind out of you. andrew turns the tv off, puts the remote back in the right place. and then he picks you up, and you make a quiet noise of surprise, underestimating him momentarily. you should know better.

one hand wraps around your legs and the other around your back, bridal-style (fitting, you think), and he sets you down on the creaky bed. you worry, how loud it’ll be and how you’ll have to be quiet but then andrew hovers over you, nothing but a tiny lamp brightening up the room, and you lose your train of thought.

“you sure you wanna do this?” he asks, that rough voice again. like you’ve thought about anything else for the last twenty-four hours. you nod quickly, bringing your hands to his chest, and then his arms, fingers tracing the sinewy veins and thrumming muscles up and down on both sides. his eyes shut while you do it, breaths getting heavy and deep. but you keep going—it’s only fair. you’ve only thought about it a million times.

“does that feel good?” you whisper, and he lets out a quiet, almost painful groan.

“y-yes,” and you smile, fingers moving on their own while you lean in for the kiss you’ve been waiting for.

andrew’s mouth is hot, and his kisses are like fire. as soon as your lips touch, he pins you all the way down, his body weight on top of yours. he kisses you the same way he had held your hand last night, the same way he held you on the couch, like you’ll slip away if he stops for even a second. your lips start to ache, but you moan quietly into his mouth, letting him swallow them while you still stroke his arms. one day, you’ll crawl into his lap and play with his hands until he’s sick of you, but today, you need to feel him.

you can’t do much from your position, but you can wrap your legs around his waist, one hand going towards his chest to pull at his shirt. he takes it off in one motion, yanking the fabric at the back until it comes off, messing up his hair while he pulls it. your free hand goes there, running through his hair again. you use it to steady yourself, gaining leverage while he keeps kissing you like there’s nothing else for him to do. like his life depends on it. he thinks it just might.

“an-andrew,” you get out in gasps, moving your mouth away for a second. “i need to breathe,” you pant, but he doesn’t stop, kisses your cheek and your jaw and buries his face in your neck. you feel the skin there between his lips, then his teeth, and you grip hard on his arm while he keeps going. you want him to keep going, you want to see the marks he leaves tomorrow and every other day. you want everyone to look at you and know that he’s the one who left them. and you think your wish is about to come true.

your fingers let go of his arms and he groans against your skin—there’s no words but you know he didn’t want you to stop. instead you guide them to both sides of his face, staring up at him and then bringing him back in for another kiss. you think you’d be perfectly content to do this forever, that you could spend hours, days, weeks in bed kissing andrew cody. that you’d be stupid to ever leave this bed, leave this house, when there’s a man here who kisses you like each touch of your lips is a prayer, like he’s here to worship.

he’s not hesitant anymore, not wondering if you’re going to pull away and walk out and ask to pretend this never happened. you keep your hands on his face, and then work down to his jaw and neck, clasping your arms around to keep him in place.

and his mind is empty. he thinks he should know what to do with you, with your labile body flush against his, all the things he’s been thinking about for the last months, if not at least what he was thinking since this morning. you’re still in your little dress, one of the thin straps fallen over your shoulder and dangling on the skin of your upper arm. he pulls away and you whine, another noise he wishes he could capture somehow. it’s a melody, one he wants to keep hearing.

you wish he hadn’t stopped the kiss, and you expect him to lean right back in after you both catch your breath, but he doesn’t. andrew’s hovering over you, eyes fixated on your shoulder, staring intently at the strap of your dress.

“andrew?” you whisper, the hand on his neck rubbing the tense skin there, wondering if you could get your kiss back. “is something wrong?”

his lovely eyes flicker up to you, staring while you swallow and wait patiently. maybe you’d been too eager, maybe he was having regrets—after all, you’re the nanny and he’s the dad and maybe you’d been too presumptuous in assuming that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him—

“no. nothing’s wrong.” you sigh a tiny breath of relief, it comes out before you even notice. but andrew is nothing if not perceptive, and he wraps his hand around your back and lays you back on his bed.

“why did you stop?” you question, flustered and embarrassed as the words come out, sounding like a spoiled child. but you suppose you had been spoiled these last few hours, getting everything you wanted—his hot touch, breathless kisses, the ability to finally see what the veins on his arms feel like under your palm.

he doesn’t answer your question, just flicks his eyes back to your shoulder. and then he leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the end of your collarbone, tracing more kisses down through the length of your shoulder, stopping when he reaches the skimpy cotton of your dress. you take deep breaths, watching it happen in front of you. he repeats the same with the other side, pulls the strap down like he’s unfolding a gift, kisses your skin like you’re his present. and you think you are.

there’s nothing between you two except your thin dress, and you pull on it eagerly, trying to get it off, when his hands come and stop on top of yours.

“you’ll rip it,” andrew says, fingers going towards the zipper in the back, undoing it slowly.

“i don’t care,” breathless, eager, unable to wait even another minute to get what you want. he pulls the zipper all the down, your dress falling off as your shrug out of it.

and you want another kiss, you want his touch, you want something, anything—but all you get is andrew staring at your naked body. and you think somehow this is worse than anything else, anticipation burning in your belly painfully. your thighs feel sticky and sore and your underwear is soaked through. and all he’s done is kiss you.

“you’re perfect,” he says quietly, and you feel your entire face burn hot. you don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before—and you know how andrew is. he doesn’t lie, he doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.

you tilt your head up, pressing your lips to his for a moment, a soft kiss in contrast to the ones from earlier.

“so are you,” and you kiss him again, smiling against his mouth. he feels it, though he doesn’t smile back. and when he pulls away, he looks down at you, naked and willing in his bed, smiling up at him and telling him he’s perfect, when you don’t even know half the monster he is. “you are,” you repeat, watching andrew’s eyes as he thinks a million thoughts in his head, carries a million burdens on his shoulders. “even if you don’t believe me. i think you’re perfect.”

you feel cheesy saying it, though you know there isn’t another man in the world who needs to hear it more. you can hear him make a noise of protest, like he doesn’t think you mean it, and incredibly desperate for him to believe you, you sit up.

your hands go to sturdy shoulders while you try to get him to move, until he’s sitting back against the headboard and you can crawl onto his lap. he’s silent, watching you as you do it, exposed body flush against his skin, and yet, you don’t feel scared. you don’t feel embarrassed, or worried. you just want to make him feel good.

you start with a kiss to his jaw. andrew’s body tenses under yours, the slightest bit of contact making him groan and buck up, his hands tight on the soft skin of your waist to keep you both steady. you work your way down to his neck, pressing kisses everywhere in your path.

“do you want to know what i’ve thought about you?” you ask, though you don’t wait for an answer. you kiss down his chest, stopping at the strong muscles of his chest and the old bruises and scars that cover some of them. “i thought that you’re so good at taking care of your family.” you move down to his abs, more kisses, hearing more noises from andrew that you never would have thought he would make for you. he takes shuddering breaths, not replying to you but grunting from pleasure while you keep going. “i thought that you’re so good to me. that i don’t have to worry since i know i can always come to you.” you think of your car and the money he gives you and how you woke up in bed despite falling asleep on the couch.

finally you make your way to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the belt with surprisingly steady hands. he reaches down, his hands covering yours for a moment, but you stare up at him with your glassy eyes, not even pulling the entire belt off, just enough to get you what you need—what you want. and then you undo his zipper, tug down his boxers, and take his girthy length into your hand, stroking up and down while still staring up at him.

“can i take care of you, andrew?” and you don’t realize how it must sound to him, his head thudding back onto the pillow. you press a gentle kiss to his leaking tip, both hands wrapped around his dick and stroking while you wait for your answer.

“y-yes, yes-” and you don’t wait any longer, taking as much of andrew into your mouth as you can fit. you drive your mouth up and down, your hands twisting around the base, everything wet and warm and sticky from your spit. and you think you would do this forever, that you would do this everyday if you could hear the noises he makes and how his body takes the pleasure you give him. you gag around him, feeling his hand snake into your hair, pulling you off gently. you smile up at him, though you’re sure you look like a mess, hot tears running down your cheeks and lips shiny and wet.

but you don’t stop—licking up and down until you bring him back into your mouth. you can feel how embarrassingly wet you are right now, can feel yourself leaking onto your thighs and the sheets, wanting friction as badly as you wanted to make andrew feel good right now. and then you hear it—andrew’s moan, louder than any of the other noises and full and from the chest. he bucks up into your mouth and you take it, ready to hear what he sounds like when he finishes, when he pulls you off of him.

“andrew—” you whine, as though you were the one about to come. he pulls you up, naked bodies pushed against each other, and kisses you until you feel light-headed.

“not until you do,” he murmurs, and you feel dizzy all over again.

“but i’m not done,” still eager to kiss the rest of his body and tell him how good he is, until he starts to believe you. you wrangle out of his loose grip, knowing full well if he wanted to stop, he could have. he could pin you down and do whatever he wanted to you and you wouldn’t be able to fight him, a thought that makes you feel like you’re going to faint. but you resume quickly, starting at his shoulders—stopping to admire all the sunspots spattered there—and starting your journey again, working down his bicep and to his freckled forearm, the ones you stared at whenever the opportunity presented itself, the one you thought about all the time.

andrew doesn’t know about that, and you’re not sure you can bear to tell him. it feels too revealing, despite how you’re naked on top of him, your breasts pressed against him and wet pussy on top of his hard, leaking dick. but sure—that’s what you get nervous about.

you stop and trace all the veins with your fingers, feeling him pulse underneath you, repeating on both sides. he’s got his head tilted back, soft groans filling the empty space between you as you keep going. if they’re this sensitive for him, you can only imagine what it would feel like for you, especially the one leading down to the middle of his wrist—and then the words slip out before you can realize you had said them out loud.

your face goes hot again. he looks up at you a little confused, and you have to stop yourself from collapsing and burying your face into the pillow next to you.

“andrew?” you ask, shy and embarrassed and yet not stopping yourself at all.

“you… you like my arms?” he says, and you feel your face heat up.

but so many things have happened already that you couldn’t have even dreamt about twenty-four hours ago, so you think it’s worth a shot. (that’s a lie. you have dreamt about this, so many times that you’ve woken up in your bed covered in a cold sweat, that you’ve burned through a vibrator and ruined pillows imagining what it would be like to rub yourself against his veiny arms. you guess you’re about to find out).

your fingers trace the length of them again.

“i like everything about you,” you say quietly, understanding just how silly you sound. “but we don’t have to do anything.” you try to cover your tracts, worried you’ve just messed up the incredible time you’ve been having so far littering his body with kisses and feeling butterflies in your cunt from the fact that andrew will be inside of you soon.

“how would you-” andrew starts, and you watch him carefully as he gets out the next few words. “do it? how?” and it’s just cut and dry way he speaks, though it’s really going to your head (and other places) right now.

“well, i-”

“show me.” oh.

you feel yourself pulse and throb in response to his words. even below you, you can still feel how hard andrew is. you try to start positioning yourself, but you must be moving too slowly for him, and you feel his hand on your ass, grabbing you and pushing you up to his chest, face to face. he lays his arm next to you, watching your naked body as you try to balance yourself between it, his free arm on your hip, keeping you steady.

when you lower yourself, just an inch or two, just until you feel the ridge of his forearm and you can decide what to do after realizing that you are, in fact, doing this, andrew curses under his breath.

“fuck, you’re so wet.” he can feel it. feel you, on his arm, leaking, for him. you take a deep breath, pressing your hands against his chest to keep your balance, moving your hips up and down slowly. and your eyes flutter shut because fuck, if it isn’t better than every fantasy you’ve ever had.

you hadn’t known that your pathetic attempts to recreate this at home would have never lived up to the real thing, and now you realize you’ll never be able to go back to anything else but andrew, that no one else could make you feel this way. months of pent-up desire leave your body as you rock yourself against him, finally getting the stimulation you’ve been craving.

when you open your eyes, just for a second, you see andrew, his eyes glued to where your pussy meets his arm, his breaths heavy and deep, like he wouldn’t look away from the sight before him for anything.

and then you feel the veins rub against your clit, and your eyes roll back into your head. you keep going, trying to muffle your moans and sighs, but you can’t get the image out of your head—andrew staring at you, like he wanted this as much as you’ve wanted it, like he needs to see you cum like this. you start going faster, the friction and the slide from your juices making it easier and the veins rubbing at you just the right way—

he leans in, putting one of your peaked nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it, before letting go and repeating the same with the other one. but it’s really when andrew starts talking that you’re pulled over the edge, his hand hot on your back.

“please,” he says, and you feel yourself falling into it, hanging onto every raspy word, so much better than you could have ever dreamed, “-i-i need you to cum for me. i need to feel you, i need to see it, please-”

and you do. you always listen to andrew, all the white-hot tension wound up in your belly releasing, flooding your entire body with the relief you’ve been wanting all night. your body tightens up, stopping, but he moves you with the huge hand on your hip, makes you rub on him all through it, pulling your body like you’re a toy for him.

your mind is empty while your toes curl and uncurl, thighs aching and sore in this position. andrew ushers you towards him, and you collapse on his chest, heaving and sweaty and tired—and the realization hits you that he hasn’t even been inside of you yet.

he kisses you while he has you trapped in his arms, your eyes shut as you breathe him in, moan into his mouth and let him swallow it.

“y-your arm,” you get out, realizing you’re not speaking in coherent sentences. “i’m sorry-”

“why?” he asks, and you shut up instantly. “didn’t know you liked them that much.”

he laughs quietly, a sound you have only heard a few times. you laugh against his chest for a moment, before pulling him in for another kiss. this time, it deepens, and he gets you on your back in front of him before he pulls away. you stare up at him, mind empty and chest heaving, seeing how his eyes stay on your tits, and you reach up, putting your hands on his chest while he hovers over you.

“it might hurt,” he says, and you feel your entire body tighten, your walls clench at his words. there’s nothing but truth behind his statement—it’s not meant to be arrogant or boastful, he’s warning you. it’s going to hurt, you know it is—you could barely fit half of him in your mouth and it took you both hands to be able to comfortably stroke him.

but the way he says it elicits a fire in you, and suddenly you need him now, no matter how much it hurts.

“i don’t care, andrew, please,” you beg, staring up at him. he still hovers, licking his lips and staring at your how tits bounce while you beg him to fuck you—a thought that he cannot process, even with you splayed out in front of him. he brings his arms out, fingers teasing your sensitive nipples until you’re covering your own mouth to avoid being too loud and you think you’re going to black out. (even in the dim light you can see the shine on his forearm from you, and the memory of it takes over your mind like a twister.)

“i have to stretch you out first.” the words possess your body like a demon. andrew takes your knees and spreads them apart, and no matter how hard you try to close them, you can’t compete against him. when he slides in one huge finger, your eyes roll back. he slips in so easily, the noise is obscene. the second finger goes in just as quickly, but there’s more resistance. two of his fingers are at least three of yours (if not more, you think, and then you want to faint again). the stretch is delicious, your pulsing walls realizing that this has been what you’ve been craving all along. that no toys or pillows or fingers of your own could ever compare.

when he slips a third finger in, he doesn’t change the pace. just keeps pushing them in and out of you like you’re a toy he’s testing the limits with, seeing how much you can take before you break. there’s no instructions for you besides to sit back and take it—and your toes curl and your head spins at how good he feels. the stretch hurts, but you want it so badly, you hear yourself crying out and saying incoherent things. you think you see andrew smile from where he is, watching your cunt suck his fingers in, his entire hand coated in your juices.

and when he hovers over you, bringing his tip to your entrance and prodding against you for a moment, you think you’re in heaven. he’s so flushed, tips of ears and his cheeks pink, sweat coating his body, just like yours. you can only imagine how hard he is, how you’ll get to feel how hard he is soon enough. his eyes stay at your pussy, pushing in, just barely, but you need more. you bring your hands to his arms, holding onto him while he slides in, and when you feel him push all the way in—so much bigger than you could have imagined, three of his fingers is nothing compared to this, nothing, nothing, nothing—he’s on top of you and kissing you.

whatever noises you make are tuned out—your ears are ringing and you can’t hear anything besides andrew’s grunts and moans as they come into your mouth. you keep kissing him, pulling on his lower lip and feeling his tongue on yours, but your entire body goes slack when he starts on a brutal pace, pulling all the way out and slamming into you. the bed is creaky, and the only noise besides it is the obscene one—the squelch of your soaking wet cunt taking andrew all the way, the repetitive slap of his skin meeting yours. you feel everything—the pressure of his hands while he holds you incredibly tightly, the fullness in your cunt that makes it feel like you can’t breathe.

and then andrew kisses your lips and makes a noise that makes you leak even more, and you know you’ll be just fine.

“i-i want-” he starts, and you feel him slow down the pace slightly.

“please, andrew,” you beg, and he resumes, fucking into you with an intensity that reminds you how badly he wants you, how long he’s wanted this. it reminds you of every time you caught him staring, every time you smiled at him wondering what he was thinking. and now you think you know—maybe he was thinking about something like this.

“i want another one,” he says into the skin of your neck, feeling him lick the sweat there and kiss the skin. “i want to feel it while i’m inside-” and god if you can’t comply. you want to do every single thing he tells you for the rest of your life, you don’t want to make another decision without andrew cody.

he changes the position, pulling out of you for a second and making you whine again. (spoiled, you think, he’s spoiled me for anyone else forever.) he holds both of your knees up and spreads them wide and wraps your arms around them, keeping them in place. and then he slides back inside of you in one swift movement, making your eyelids flutter shut. he doesn’t get right on top of you, leaving space between you that makes it impossible to lean in for a kiss, and you keep whining, impossibly and irrationally angry that you can’t kiss him, wondering why he wants you like this, when you feel his fingers circle your clit slowly—then quickly.

your head falls back onto the pillow. andrew can feel you pulsing around him, walls clenching every time he rubs your sensitive clit, and that’s what he wants, that’s what he needs, wants to feel you cum around his dick and squeeze him even tighter than you are right now. wants to see how you look completely fucked out, wants to see if you can give him a third. (he’ll get it, he decides, later. he’ll give you a chance to breathe, get you water after this. all the things he would do to take care of you, just like how you deserve, how a husband would take care of his wife.)

because at the end of the day, isn’t that what you two basically already are? you couldn’t be a girlfriend, because you have to get comfortable around a girlfriend.

no, he thinks, watching your fucked-out, flushed body take him like you were made for it. you already know him, know what he likes and doesn’t like, know how to make him feel good like you had been inside of his head already. you have been inside. you’re all he thinks about. that’s a wife, that is something that is forever, what the two of you have.

he doesn’t realize how hard he’s going, how fast, or how you’ve been squealing with your entire body tensing while he was stuck in his thoughts about you. this time when you finish, it explodes through you, the electric current staring from your core and spreading to every finger and toe. you jolt, legs shaking and head heavy, the after effect rolling through you while andrew keeps fucking you, keeps going even though he should probably stop. you’re incoherent, writhing and crying and feeling completely numb and like your entire body is burning all at once.

and when you blink open your watery eyes at andrew, smile sweetly and reach out for a kiss, one that he happily gives you, you say it quietly.

“i love you, andrew.” and you feel his thrusts stutter, his body weight almost collapsing on you. you feel andrew cum, feel it filling you up while you listen to his quiet moans and run your hands over his tense muscles, saying sweet things that he can barely understand in this state.

he rolls over minutes later, not pulling out until you were done kissing him. the room is filled with nothing but your heavy breaths. you need a shower, and you need to sleep.

you curl up on andrew’s chest like you had been on the couch what felt like a lifetime ago. you play with his fingers and he runs his other hand up and down the expanse of your arm. you can hear birds outside—and you know you need to get up soon, but you can’t find any words.

“you think that was enough?” andrew asks, and you look up at him with a confused expression. he looks at you with so much sincerity you feel like crying. your andrew.

“what do you mean?” you ask quietly, still not sure what he’s even talking about. your head is spinning and your eyes are tired—every part of you is tired.

“we can go again after you get some sleep. it might take more than once.”

“andrew?”

“you don’t have to worry about it. i’ll figure it out. i won’t stop until i put a baby in you.”

♡ thank you for reading

#why am i so nervous about this #pope cody #pope cody x reader #andrew cody #andrew cody x reader #andrew pope cody x reader #babysitter reader

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seumyo · 5 months ago

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kenma going to the gym for the sole purpose of being strong enough to lift his daughter whenever she wants.

Kenma Kozume had done a lot of things he never expected in life. But somehow, somehow, the hardest thing he had ever done… was carrying around your four-year-old daughter like she was an accessory strapped to his body.

It started off fine. She was small. Lightweight. Kenma barely noticed it when she’d reach up at him with those big, golden eyes, arms raised expectantly as she said, “Up, Daddy!”

And, of course, like an absolute fool, he always picked her up.

Always.

Now, however, things were different. Kiano was growing.

Which was great! Wonderful, even!

All he ever wanted was a happy wife. Check. And a healthy baby. Check.

Except for the part where she was getting heavier, and Kenma, who had not done a single muscle-related workout since high school volleyball, was starting to feel it. His arms ached. His back tensed up. There were days when, after holding her for too long, he would just sit down at his desk and stare blankly at his keyboard, fingers refusing to move because they were still recovering from holding your daughter for half the day.

“Kenma, you should just go to bed if you’re not feeling well,” you told him when you brought him some midnight snacks.

And your daughter, Kiano, she did not care.

She still reached up, still expected to be carried without hesitation the following morning.

And because Kenma was a weak, weak man, he never said no.

Which was how he found himself at the gym, standing at the front desk with his old gym keycard in hand, while Kuroo Tetsurou of all people stood beside him, grinning like a complete idiot.

“Hold on, hold on,” Kuroo said, leaning against the counter as he processed what was happening. “Let me get this straight. You’re renewing your gym membership—not because you wanna get in shape, not because you had some life-changing revelation, but because your four-year-old daughter is getting too heavy for you?”

Kenma scowled, tossing his gym keycard at Kuroo’s face. “Shut up.”

Kuroo laughed, easily catching it. “Kenma, this is hilarious.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as the receptionist processed his renewal.

He knew Kuroo was going to be like this. That was the whole reason he had debated bringing him along in the first place. But Kenma also knew that if he walked into a gym alone after years of avoiding them, he would probably just stand in the corner, regret all his life choices, and leave without doing anything.

He needed moral support. Unfortunately, that support came in the form of Kuroo, who was currently laughing at his pain.

“It’s not that funny,” Kenma grumbled.

Kuroo shot him a look. “Kenma, you literally built your entire brand on being an indoors guy. And now you’re out here, willingly lifting weights, all because your tiny daughter says ‘Up, Daddy’ and you can’t say no to her.”

Kenma refused to make eye contact.

Because yeah, that was… basically the situation.

The receptionist handed back his renewed membership card, smiling. “Welcome back, Mr. Kozume! Need a trainer, or will you be working out alone?”

“Alone,” Kenma muttered quickly.

“Wrong!” Kuroo interrupted, slinging an arm around Kenma’s shoulders before he could escape. “He’ll be working out with me. You know, actual workouts, not just the bare minimum.”

“You’re acting like I won’t just cancel this membership next month.”

“Not if Kiano has anything to say about it.”

Kenma frowned, thinking about it for a second.

…Yeah. That kid was persistent.

Guess who she got it from? Ding, ding! You, of course.

If he so much as hinted at the idea of quitting, Kiano would probably just guilt-trip him with those big eyes, telling him, “Daddy, you said you’d carry me if I did well in school!” and then he’d look like the world’s weakest dad to your daughter forever.

Damn it.

He exhaled. “Fine.”

Kuroo grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit, Daddy Kenma.”

Kenma cringed. “Never call me that again.”

Kuroo did call him that again.

An hour later, Kenma remembered exactly why he hated going to the gym.

He had been peer-pressured into lifting actual weights, had attempted (and failed) to use a pull-up bar, and nearly died trying to keep up with Kuroo, who, despite his stupid corporate job, was somehow still in peak physical condition.

Kenma, on the other hand, felt like he had been hit by a truck.

Kuroo, the bastard, was barely sweating. “You good?” he asked, grinning.

Kenma, lying face-down on the floor, made a vague, suffering noise.

Kuroo laughed. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got. What happened to that volleyball stamina?”

“That was ten years ago,” Kenma groaned. “I’m pushing thirty in two years, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kuroo crouched next to him, smirking. “But hey, just think about it—if you don’t get into shape soon, you’ll place Kiano down and never carry her forever!”

Kenma slowly turned his head to glare at him. “That is not comforting.”

“Kids grow up way quicker than you think, Kenma. You won’t know when you’ll ever be able to carry them, like when they were babies.”

“Is that why you’re worried that your 7-month-old son is going to get daycare soon, really? When he just start enjoying his tummy time?”

“Time goes fast.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

Kuroo cackled, standing up and stretching. “Changing the subject,” he tuts softly. “I can’t believe this is what finally got you back in a gym. A four-year-old child has you completely wrapped around her tiny little fingers.”

Kenma didn’t even try to argue. Because, well.

It was true.

#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kenma fluff #kenma drabble #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq drabble #hq kenma #haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma x reader

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daydreamgoddess14 · 1 month ago

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Thighs

Yeah, OK, I wrote this one on the way home, so you get a two-parter. Hips and thighs, baby!

Read on AO3

bucky xf!reader.

Warnings: As earlier, Bucky thinking filthy thoughts, reader is midsize/curvy & a little insecure about it. Working out with supersoldiers, gym lingo, semi-public oral f!receiving. Written straight into my phone, sorry for any mistakes.

With every lunge, squat and stretch, he watched your body move.

He could tell you felt self-conscious about it. You tried to shrink, make yourself a little smaller. You looked longingly at Yelena’s lean hips while he stared hungrily at your curves.

You were perfect. There wasn't an inch of you he didn't want to kiss.

When John showed you how to grip the bar for deadlifts, he nearly lost it.

Your thighs.

God, your thighs.

He wanted them wrapped around his head, muffling every sound except the ones he was dragging from you.

“We're done, good job!” Lena beamed at you, pressing a sweaty kiss to your equally sweaty forehead. “You're strong!”

“I am not,” you gestured around the room, landing on him. “Bucky can, like, bench press a school bus!”

“You're not super soldier,'“ she withered. “You're strong, and you'll get stronger.”

You flushed with pride, standing a little taller.

“Not bad,” he said as the others drifted away to protein shakes and showers.

“She made me do it -”

“You did a great job. You’re strong,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “Strong and beautiful.”

Your jaw dropped, surprise flickering across your face.

“Come here,” he murmured.

Before you could think, he dragged you into the shadowy corner, pinning you against the wall. A laugh of disbelief caught in your throat.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His hands squeezed your hips, thumbs digging into the softness he’d been craving all session.

You barely had time to gasp before his mouth crashed over yours. Desperately, hungry.

“Been watchin’ you forever,” he groaned against your lips, grinding up into the heat between your legs. “Thinkin’ about how sweet you’d sound when I finally got my hands on you.”

You keened, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Watching you move,” he growled, kissing down your throat, nipping at your skin. “You’re not walkin’ outta here tonight, sweetheart - not ’til you’re drippin’ with me.”

One hand slid up, curling around your breast through the damp fabric, his thumb flicking over your nipple until you whined.

“Please -”

“Oh, you’ll beg real pretty for me, huh?” He dropped to his knees, big hands shoving your leggings down in one rough motion.

The first swipe of his tongue made your knees buckle. He groaned into you, hooking a thigh over his shoulder, fingers bruising into your ass to keep you right where he wanted you.

“Look at you,” he rasped between licks. “Sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted, my good girl… so perfect for me.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut

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malusokay · 2 years ago

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becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡

Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?

Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.

Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)

Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.

Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...

In Class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.

Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3

"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!

Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :)

No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...

After class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3

Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)

Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...

Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)

Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done

Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.

Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3

Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.

No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.

Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3

Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!

Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.

Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3

Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!

Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)

Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!

Music to set the mood. I have a bunch of playlists on my Spotify that might help!! <3

Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...

Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)

Babes, The hiatus is OVER, and I'm finally back!! I got a lot of asks on studying, burnout, and school in general, so I thought, why not start off with a little student guide?? I Hope October has been kind to you, and school hasn't been too overwhelming (though I know it, unfortunately, has been for many of you), and I'm glad to finally be back!! <33

As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

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munsonstorm · 3 months ago

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Lessons in Art History

my main masterlist - eddie munson masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 10.5k (tehe sorry not sorry)

description: eddie needs to graduate. a stupid summer art class is getting in his way. luckily for him, his neighbor and childhood crush is an art history major. and you're ready to make a deal.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, reader is in college, both parties are 18+, mention of abusive parents, drug use, consumption of alcohol, mentions of relying on alcohol, mentions of body mutilation, eddie is a doesn't understand art and you really do, smut, lots of tension, no mention of specific body type, dubcon (both are under the influence, they are tipsy/high), oral (f recieving) unprotected p in v, body worship, dirty talk, eddie cums 'quickly', eddie finishes inside. eddie just really loves your body. aftercare.

authors note: this has been sitting in my docs forever. i finally finished it on a whim. enjoy me combining two things i really love! art history and eddie munson <3 if you guys want to see more of these two, pls don't hesitate to pop in my asks. also thank you to my beta's aka @pedgito and @amanitacowboy! kisses to the both of you! MUAHHH!!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

sweet moodboard my dearest @amanitacowboy made for this fic <3

Eddie did not understand art.

The fact that he even had to take the stupid art history course in summer school aggravated him. When the teacher would blab on and on about different mediums and their importance to history, he found himself almost dozing off. Sure some of the paintings they were studying were cool, but it seemed very… pretentious.

But he’s failing and he can not be failing.

As soon as he saw your old Chevy pull into the driveway across from his, he knew he was in for a treat this summer. Seeing you again would only send his heart racing, he knew that for sure. When he sees you in passing, mainly when he’s heading to the school in the morning, you always offered a passive wave and pleasant smile. You had only gotten more beautiful since you left for college.

Luckily for him, his childhood crush and next door neighbor was in college studying Fine Arts and she was home for the summer. Finally.

You had just concluded your freshman year at Indiana State University. It had been a dream of yours since you were a kid to go to school for art. Saving all your money made from the diner downtown helped with a good chunk of your first semester and your second semester was proudly sponsored by your rich aunt. Lucky you.

You had plans to spend your summer working on some art pieces to build your resume. Your preferred medium was watercolors and oil paints, so your small bedroom was littered with canvases and cold-pressed sheets. You have lived in this trailer your entire life and it was by far the messiest it’s ever been. Not just from you, but from your mom and younger sister. You spent most mornings picking up after them, and you soon realize that’s all you have ever done your entire life. The reason the house was this bad was because you were now gone and not slaving to keep the base boards dusted.

You needed to get out of the house.

So you started spending time outside, occupying some lawn chairs on your back porch. The shade was limited to one corner of the broken down rotted wood, so you positioned the chair there and set up your easel.

There had been a couple occasions in the time you have been home where you had seen your neighbors and had very basic conversations with them. You said hello to Max Mayfield when she skateboarded past your driveway, but you do not believe she actually heard you. Wayne Munson had waved to you one day when he was leaving for work. And then of course the moments you saw Eddie.

He had not changed one bit, that boy. You had a sneaky small crush on him when you two shared a couple classes together your senior year. You had lived right across from him for practically your whole life, yet when he sat next to you in English class, you felt yourself stealing glances and sharing hushed jokes together. You were not sure if the crush was loosely based because you two were always in close proximity to each other, but he was cute.

One particularly hot afternoon, you hear the crunching of your dying grass on the side of the house. You glance up from your canvas only to see him.

Eddie was supposed to graduate alongside you but between all his absences, bad grades, and mischievous behaviors, he failed. Twice.

You put your paint down on a rusted out table, wiping the excess colors on your shirt with your elementary school mascot on it.

“Hey,” You say lightly, shooting him a gentle smile. You could not lie that your stomach did a bit of a flip when his eyes locked with yours. And just like that, Eddie is reminded why he used to like you so damn much.

Your smile was enough to make a man halt in place, and that’s exactly what he did.

You seemed disheveled, which Eddie found oddly attractive. Your shirt was covered in dry and wet paint, looking like you just wipe whatever paint you’re not using on yourself. It was an array of colors, but mainly different hues of blues and yellows.

He quickly starts to regret his initial plan. Originally he was going to catch you leaving your house one day, asking how college was going, and see if you were interested in helping him study for his next test. But you never left your house at the same time, and he could not just casually hang out outside 24/7 waiting for you. That would be weird. Stalkerish.

So after one particularly bad quiz, he worked up enough courage to walk straight up to you while you sat and worked magic. Problem was, he did not plan what to say, only thinking of it as he approached you. And of course, when you say ‘hello’, he quickly realizes you stole his voice with your gaze.

You just look at him, sensing he must be lost or something.

He finally finds his voice after clearing away some phlegm, “I need your help.”

Your eyes flicker to your canvas, inspecting your work from another angle as you hop off the edge of your deck. Eddie starts to get nervous as you approach him, your eyes still firmly planted on your art.

Eddie used to ask you for the dumbest favors when you two were kids. He used to knock on your door and ask for random ingredients, to walk with him to the mini mart down the street, just anything to get you out of your house and talking to him.

Looking back now, it was kind of sweet he even thought to invite you, but you were not interested in helping with housework or walking along the back roads of Hawkins with him.

You finally look at him, pursing your lips in faux contemplation, “Eddie… I’m not helping you mow the grass-” He waves his hands in the air, halting you from talking. “No… it’s not that. I am in summer school-”

It was your turn to cut him off, planting your hands on your hips, “Again!?”

He exhales, bringing his ringed fingers over his face and dragging his lower lids down in frustration.

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was not stupid. You knew he was smart if he applied himself. Problem was that he was bad about caring about school. You remember the days of sitting behind him in 10th grade Algebra and you almost failed with how much he interrupted class to laugh with some friends in the last row. He was the very opposite of yourself.

He crosses his arms over his Metallica shirt that he’s been wearing for two years, using his fingers to fold his lower lip as you stand like a scolding mother.

“I need to pass this Art History class and I failed the first quiz already. I need it to finish out my credits. Please-” You roll your eyes, matching his stance by crossing your arms. Art History was the easiest subject to you and you adored learning more about it. And Eddie knew that, too. You realize you’ll have wet paint all over your arms as soon as your arm sticks to the front of your shirt.

“What’s in it for me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, surprised that you are open to tutoring him so quickly. You watch him nod his head, dreaming up how he can repay you. “I’ll smoke you up whenever you want. And… whatever else you want, I guess.”

“Smoking me up whenever I want?”

You like the sound of that. You were just like every other art student at your college. Using substances to get you through each day. Lately, it’s been wine you get from the gas station down the road. But drunk painting is not as productive, so you mainly use it to numb all the other depressing things in your life at night.

You missed smoking weed, but you have not had the budget to buy.

But if tutoring Eddie Munson in your favorite subject would get you free weed, you could not say no.

Eddie nods quickly at your response, desperate to pass. And if it meant hanging out with you, too, it was a win-win-win all around. “Yeah, I just need to pass this class-” You cut him off again, “Okay, fine. But we have to do it at your house.”

You did not need him seeing your hoard of paintings and messy house. And now you had an actual excuse to leave your house.

Eddie shakes his head, blinking at you curiously.

“Yeah, no problem,” He claps his hands in front of his body, twisting his foot a bit like a child would, “When can we start?” The wind picks up, and you watch his hair fly across his face. You giggle, watching him brush his locks away from his mouth. You could not deny how cute and endearing he could be occasionally. “What days do you have class?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

This would be a breeze, you think to yourself. You assume immediately that you would only need to see him two days a week. No big deal.

You head back up to your deck, taking your canvas off the easel, “Then I’ll see you on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” You stop in movements as he simply states, “Today is Tuesday, sweetheart.”

Your head shoots around, seeing the cheeky smirk playing on his lips. The nickname he called you sends a slight shiver down your spine. It sounded nice coming from him.

You roll your eyes, though, assuming he means you had to start today.

“Let me grab my notes and change,” His face brightens up at your words. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”

You soon realize two days a week was not going to help Eddie. You added Monday evenings to the equation pretty quickly when you realized he did not even have the proper textbook.

“Emerson gave it to me! He told me it was the one he used last year!”

You just rolled your eyes and read his syllables to him, out loud, obnoxiously. He giggled the entire time, commenting about how you should have been a school teacher.

You two would sit in his bedroom from five in the evening until 8 at night, mainly on his unmade bed, going over different texts and art pieces. Around 7, he would offer you to smoke, which you always agreed to. By 8:30, you were high as a kite and ready to go home. He would send you off with a ‘goodnight, sweetheart’ and watch you walk back over to your front door.

You notice pretty quickly he was always fiddling with his hands, tapping his pencils, biting his fingernails. He could not sit still and it drove you insane. You gave him one of your stress balls one day, hoping the silent squishing would ease his jitters, but instead he started throwing it up and the air. You took it from him soon after, scolding him.

He was virtually impossible to teach.

You finally get him on track when they start studying Van Gogh. You would simply help Eddie interpret the art, as well as give him the basics information on the artist.

He thinks it’s funny when you explain how Van Gogh cut off his ear, laughing hysterically when you show him the self portrait.

“Look at his goofy little hat! And the bandage around his head?”

You could not help yourself today. You roll your eyes and sit back against the edge of his bed, trying to redeem your resting easygoing expression. It was becoming too hard, but you distort your smile back on and pivot to him. His face is twisted in amusement, knowing his comment has you reeling.

It was only Monday and you had two more evenings explaining art to him. You could not get him to love the subject, but you try to place the ideas into his day to day life. It seems to stick better when you put it in those terms. It’s hard to do with Van Gogh, sadly, so you just listen to him cracking jokes until it’s time to smoke.

He hands you the joint, his lips pursed in contemplation as you take the hit. You are sitting back against his wall, crossing your legs vertically across his bed. You look more relaxed on his bed than he does.

You exhale, handing him back back the roll. You really needed this high to bring the tension away from your shoulders.

“So, what did you learn today?” You probe, seeing if he actually learned anything. You would not be surprised if he said something about Van Gogh’s ear again. Instead, he just smirks at you, tilting his head back on his wooden headboard.

He takes a drag of the joint, his jaw ticking as he blows out the smoke. “That you’re very patient with me.”

You bite your cheek, preventing yourself for smiling. He could see right through you, no matter how hard you tried to disguise your annoyance with him.

“You’re giving me free weed and all I have to do is explain basic concepts to you,” you explain, reaching over to him, brushing your arm across his knee and thigh. The physical touch leaves goosebumps all over your arm.

“Like 40 times, over and over again.”

You smirk at that, “Again. Free weed.”

“And the company, of course,” He says as he leans forward, poking your thigh with his pointer finger.

The comment makes your stomach flip, butterflies sprouting as you watch his smile get wider.

You honestly would not have done this if it was any other guy from Hawkins High. You hated most of the people you graduated with, knowing they were all assholes or weird. Or both.

And while Eddie was an oddball, he had manners and knew where to draw the line with you. He never made you feel unsafe or awkward. He was just so shamelessly himself and somehow that meshed well with your personality.

“Yeah, you’re alright I guess,” You sneer, trying to act as coy as possible. You could feel the heat burning your cheeks and Eddie noticed it, too. He would not say anything though, just trying to rid his mind of the feeling of your arm brushing across his leg earlier.

“I just don’t get the point of big red squares on big black canvas.”

Week 4 proved to be the week where they throw high school summer school students into the deep end. You curse the teacher as soon as Eddie comes home with print outs of Mark Rothko’s abstract paintings.

You really enjoyed Rothko’s work, having seen it in person in Chicago on a school trip. You almost felt protective over his art.

So when Eddie goes on his normal rambles about how silly art really is, you cannot help yourself.

You grab the print out of the unnamed yellow orange piece, “There’s nothing to get Eddie, it’s just…”

“You said this Rothko guy was this infamous artist and all he does is paint shapes,” He looks at the paper over your shoulder. He’s currently sprawled across his bed, while you sit on his floor with all the dust bunnies. His head is right next to yours and you can feel his curls laying on your bare shoulder.

Why did you wear a tank top today?

You huff, sitting forward a bit, “Eddie, it’s not about what he wanted it to be, it’s what you interpret it as.” “Well it’s squares. That’s all I interpret, sweetheart.”

You inhale a deep breath, the anger rising within you turning quickly into how you could break down the kind-of pretentious pieces. You had to admit that Rothko’s ideas were pretty out there. You also knew that they seemed very grandiose to an average person, but he had his intentions in the right place.

“Can I explain it to you,” You look up at him, your faces inches away. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Cause you’re just… so wrong.”

A smile crosses his face, waiting for you to go into detail. “Go on, princess.”

You look back at the print, cocking your head to the side. You had explained his art to other people before but you knew you would have to phase it down a bit for Eddie.

“Rothko is not telling you to feel one way or another,” You point at the orange part of the pieces, “You may see those squares, but it’s more about the colors. The paint strokes. You see them in person and they are like… all consuming. His point was not to make something for himself, it was so that observer could reflect inward and use his art to their advantage. To grieve. To be happy. To reminisce. So it’s not about the squares. It’s about what the colors evoke.”

His finger points right beside where yours sits on the page, “What does this one say to you?”

You smile as you reflect on the painting. It’s not exactly where it needs to be. Rothko does not need to be a printed flimsy piece of paper, it needs a huge canvas, but it still evokes something in you. With Eddie over your shoulder, the ideas flowing within you sends goosebumps across your neck and back. His closeness only adds to the slowing of your heart rate.

“The yellow and salmon color make me hopeful. Like I can actually get somewhere and be something. It reminds me of some beautiful sunrises I’ve had the privilege of watching. Makes me feel like I’ll be alright.”

Eddie’s eyes search your face, watching your lips twitch as you observe the piece. It kind of spilled out of you. You try not to get too into your perceptions of art with him, simply just giving him information and making him write and conclude his own opinions. But art is the only thing in the world you felt held by and on rare occasions, you had to bare your soul. Eddie was just the unlucky bastard to hear about it.

The gentle way you describe things, every word sounding so precious, made Eddie’s whole head explode with adoration. He spent so many evenings watching you, quietly admiring the way you moved, the way you spoke, and while he knew the crush he harbored was major, it only got worse spending these last few weeks with you. He got to see your little unique quirks up close and he was hopelessly in love with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, his voice a bit strained. You glance up at him, completely whiplashed by his response.

The way he’s looking at you makes you believe he does not even realize he said that out loud. His eyes soften, as you scan his face. Your gaze falls to his lips before you finally speak up, your heartbeat in your ears.

“What?”

His eyes widened, realizing his mistake. He sits back and snaps his gaze away from you. Your cheeks heat up as you come to realize you had read the situation correctly. He rubs his hand over his face in embarrassment, trying to gain his bearings.

“I’m.. I didn’t mean to… say that out loud.”

He’s fumbling over his words, which makes a smile creep across your face. You knew what it was to blunder like this, having done it one too many times with guys you liked. You wanted to reassure him without making it seem like too big of a deal. But boy, was it a big deal.

“It’s okay,” You manage to say, trying not to giggle. You cannot help yourself, though. As soon as the breath leaves your mouth, he groans.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He is standing up now, rolling off his bed. His tall frame starts to pace his bedroom, his hands never leaving his face. He could not bear to look at you.

You pull your knees into your chest, trying to ease his nerves with a simple, “Don’t be sorry, it’s completely okay.”

He stops in his tracks, placing his hands on his hips. You cannot help but find him charming, his face all red, his hair untidy, his shirt twisted from the way he was laying. You had to admit, in a not-out-loud-way, that he was beautiful, too.

“You just got on that whole tangent and the passion you had for the art put me in a trance and…” He starts to pace again when he sees your lips curve up, “I just… yeah.”

You giggle, his words sending your heart racing even more, “I put you in a trance, huh?”

He slaps his hand over his forehead, realizing he can not stop saying stupid things. “Studying session over. ‘M rolling a joint.”

It was final day.

The last couple weeks with Eddie consisted of a lot of him really diving in head first into the topics they were discussing in class. While he still needed your guidance on dissecting certain pieces and how they related back to the artists, he was coming home with quizzes that had red scribbled ‘B’s’ on the top of the paper. That’s all he needed to pass.

You had settled with the fact that Eddie was never going to bring up what he said to you again. After that evening, he was hesitant to even sit a foot away from you, always residing on the opposite side of the room.

It hurt a bit. You do not know if he actually meant it or not, and the mystery of it all was eating you alive. When you would let your eyes linger on him for longer than usual, you wanted to crawl out of your skin when he would intentionally look away from you. He was avoiding it, and you knew it.

But Eddie was not avoiding it. God, he wanted to. You were consuming every thought in his head. When he was in class he was thinking about you, because you were teaching him even more than the teacher was. When he was driving home, a song would play and he would somehow relate it to the way your eyes twinkled at him or how your smooth voice would send tingles down his spine. When he was home, trying to have some down time, he would catch himself staring out his bedroom window, wondering what you were doing in your room across the street.

He was officially losing it.

On final day, he got in his car, his fingers nervously tapping his steering wheel, hoping to the heavens and angels that he would pass so he could race over to your front door and leap into your arms in excitement. He just wanted to be near you, always.

When he gets the bubble sheet back and sees a 89/100, he jumps up out of his chair and hoots like a banshee. He could not believe his eyes as he gripped the paper with an iron fist, waving it around to all 4 of his classmates. “I’m graduating, fuckers!”

He could not get home fast enough. With the paper sitting on his dash, he flew over curbs, unable to maintain his excitement at passing the stupid class.

When he pulls into Forest Hills and fails to see your car in your driveway, his heart skips.

Had you left to go back to school early? Without saying goodbye? Were you just out? Maybe you had just gone to the grocery store?

As he parks the van, he snatches the sheet up and takes his time getting in the house. He glances back at your place a couple times, failing to see any signs of life through the slightly drawn open windows. His mind was spinning with all the possibilities, all of them equally making him spiral. He places his test down his record player, swipes up his rolling tray and starts to get as high as he possibly could. He would check your driveway practically every fice seconds, willing you to appear, but after an hour, he ashes out a joint and lays back on his bed, defeated.

You pulled into your driveway, noticing Eddie’s van haphazardly parked in his driveway. You were tempted to pull in front of his house and knock on his front door to ask how the test went, but you were up all night getting drunk and wallowing. A fight with your mother really took everything out of you and you had next-to-no energy.

You waste no time getting inside and throwing on your comfiest pajamas. You cuddle up in your bed, soaking up the quietness of your trailer as you have it completely to yourself tonight. Sleep eventually finds you after a bit, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. You take your time getting up, wandering through the house to the front door. On your way there, you stop and grab the half drunk wine glass on the counter. You had left your current self a little gift last night, it seems.

You get to the front door, slamming the wine before you turn the handle. As you open it, you see his curls first. You wipe the dribble of red liquid away from the side of your mouth, puckering your lips.

“Hey,” You say simply, trying to hide the wine glass behind your back. He knew you drank, but you did not want to look completely disheveled in his presence. You already had bed head. “Hey, uh… I passed,” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping onto his test sheet. He holds it up, a small smile expanding across his face, “I got a B on my final, so… I’m on track to graduate this year.”

He looks nervous, but your heart jumps in excitement for him. This is the best news you have heard all day. You put the wine glass down on the wooden entry table and fly out the door. You wrap your arms around his neck, jumping up and down as you congratulate him. “That’s awesome, Eddie!”

His hand gently graces your waist, shifting your oversized t-shirt up a bit, revealing that there are shorts underneath. You hear a small chuckle escape his throat, almost reflecting some sort of relief.

You really knew how to make him feel special, practically throwing yourself at him. “All thanks to you,” He whispers as you pull away from his grasp. You still have your hand on his neck, pressing your fingers into the collar of his jean vest. “Oh please…” You shift back, dropping your arm to your side. You giggle, watching him crumble the test paper and stuff it into his pocket. You move back a step, “I’m happy though. Truly. You earned it.”

There’s a pause between you two, both just staring at one another. You want him to say something back, unsure if your celebration was a bit too much. His face drops as if he’s remembering something. He digs in his jean’s pocket, hissing as he searches for something. He pulls out a small joint, the rings on his fingers sparkling in the sun’s rays. The sun is finally going down, shadowing a golden hue over Forest Lawn. “I uh.. Have a celebratory joint.. Do you want to smoke?”

Your smile gives away your answer. You push your elbow into the door, opening it wider for Eddie. Having the whole place to yourself would serve you some good tonight, but Eddie was not much of a bother. Plus, free weed.

“Yeah, I actually have the house to myself, if you want to hang here?”

His eyes light up, surprised that you are allowing him in your space, “Are you sure?”

You nod, gesturing him to join you inside, “Yeah, it’s cool. Mom’s working overnight, sister’s at Max’s.”

“Sure, yeah.”

Initially you decide to just hangout in the living room, but then you realize your mother would somehow smell the remnants of marijuana, so you offer Eddie the space of your room. He nods timidly, walking behind you through the kitchen. On your way through, you grab the already half drank wine bottle and walk to the end of the hallway. You push open your door, showing off your messy and cluttered room to Eddie.

“My room’s a mess, just a warning.”

You crack open the nearest window, before settling on your bed. Eddie stands there, taking in your room and art pieces. Stacked canvases take up most of the floor space, as well as a peeling easel. You pat your unmade bed, trying to get him to sit. He toes off his sneakers and plops down on your full-sized bed.

He places the joint between his lips, something you hyperfixate on for a moment. Watching his mouth wrap around something so small makes you pause. His perfectly symmetrical pink lips were something that caught your attention often.

You uncork your wine as he flicks his lighter and pulls some smoke.

“You are gonna smoke, too, right,” He asks, handing over the rolled weed. You take a swig of the bottle, letting the cheap alcohol slide down your throat.

You gesture him the bottle, offering him some of your own vice. He’s a guest, after all. “Yeah, I am. Want some?”

He shakes his head, scrunching his nose at the idea of drinking. “Not a wine guy. Thanks, though.”

You two sit there in a comfortable silence, passing the joint back and forth. When you feel enough of a buzz throughout your body, you stand up and decide to show off your newest pieces.

You had never been one to show off your work. You did not mind if people looked or admired, but you’d rather not be in the room when it was happening. You were more afraid of failure, which to you, was someone not liking your work. Criticism. Such a scary thought.

You grab a painting you created of the woods at the entrance of Forest Hills, a densely packed row of trees with the sun only slightly beaming through some breaks in the leaves. It took you a week to complete it, having spent most of your free time in the evenings with Eddie.

You turn the canvas over with one hand as you grip your wine bottle at the same time. Eddie shifts on your bed, laying on his side and propping his body weight up on his elbow.

The moment his eyes find the canvas, his jaw drops.

“Holy shit, sweetheart. That is incredible,” He sits up on his butt, his dark curls shifting around his shoulders as he does. “You could fill an entire museum with the amount of canvases in here.”

You beam at his words, a sense of unnerving weight that you carry around, suddenly lifting off your shoulders. You felt pride swirl in your stomach, watching him stand and approach one older stack of paintings.

You place the piece of art down, feeling the tackiness of the clear coat on your fingertips.

“That’s the dream, one day.”

He shifts some watercolors you did around, staring at them with the joint between his lips. He looks so focused and enamored with your work. It’s endearing seeing him able to admire art after dealing with him for weeks just poking fun at it. “Oh, you’ll get there,” he states with confidence, the bud wiggling between his teeth with his words. He takes it out of his mouth, finally looking back over to you. The rush of heat to your cheeks could be attributed to the alcohol, but he is sure it is because of his praise. “You’re incredible.”

And you can tell he means it. What you don’t know is he means it in every sense. Your artistic ability is just the tip of the iceberg.

He swallows, letting the tension rise a bit as you muster up the courage to step closer to him. The joint is burnt out, now just a roach between his fingers. You place the almost empty wine bottle on your desk, practically invading Eddie’s space as you step one foot closer.

The weed has loosened him up a bit. His body feels weightless and his mouth is one of the muscles that has relaxed with the rest of his limbs.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, looking down at you with a lopsided grin. The moment is reminiscent of the first time he told you that, but the energy in the room is more charged than last time.

The whites of his eyes are red, his lids drooping a bit more. You can feel the heat flush your cheeks as his gaze falls down over your face and to your lips.

“Thanks, Eds,” your voice not crawling over a whisper. This time when you acknowledge his compliment, he does not backpedal. His eyes don’t stray away, nervously finding a way to bring up a new conversation. No, this time, he’s confident and sure fire about telling you how he felt.

He had been holding onto it for so long, and soon, you would be back at school. He knew your mind would stray to other places, other things, other guys. And he knew he would not be able to live with himself if he did not express his feelings for you.

“Truly, I mean it,” He mutters, shifting on his other leg. You can tell by the way he’s fiddling with his rings, he is nervous. The only thing you can think of is his lips, especially when he licks them, “You are… probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The statement catches you off guard at first. Maybe it’s the alcohol distorting your confidence, or maybe it’s the nerves of him getting an inch closer. You clear your throat, finally darting your eyes away from his mouth. “You are high.”

A smile spreads across his face which warms your skin, prickling tiny bumps scattering down your arms. “And right,” He emphasizes, placing the roach down by your wine bottle. Instead of putting his arm down, his hand inches towards the curve of your cheek. There’s a glint in his eye, something hinting at you to lean towards him. And you do. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker away, your vision falling onto your bedroom door. You had hung up a mirror there when you were 12 and became hyper aware of your appearance. Your mom was very good at making you feel inferior, so you would spend hours sitting on your bed and staring into your mirror with contempt. You had learned how to love yourself a bit more since you were not living at home, but coming back has only reminded you of all the things you hate about yourself. But the characteristics you did like about yourself seemed to shine a bit more as you stood next to Eddie.

“I think I have pretty traits,” You muster up, looking away from your own reflection. Eddie does not accept that. The moment your head snaps back in his direction, his fingers drifting down to your jawline, “No, baby, you are the whole package. Not just a couple things. You’re perfect.”

Perfect. You had never been appreciated by any guy like this. You did not know Eddie had it in him.

“Eddie, you’re just saying that-” He somehow forces you to look in his eyes. He levels with you, his eyes looking serious and bloodshot, “I’m truly not just saying it to say it. I… I have thought like this since like 8th grade, sweetheart.”

It feels like all the air has been pushed out of your chest. You choke out two words, “You what?”

And then Eddie cannot help himself. It’s like he had been gearing up his entire life for this moment. He just needed the push. And the way you are looking at him right now is enough for him.

“The moment I realized I was completely beside myself into you was when you pushed that girl on the school bus for saying I was a freak for having longer hair. You literally pushed her into the aisle and stepped over her to get off the bus with me. I knew then I was a goner. You were all I could see.”

The day is so vivid in your mind. You even remember the t-shirt you were wearing that day. It was a memory that stuck with you, too. You did not realize you had made such an impact on him. It’s endearing to know he thought about you in that way. Endearing and… reassuring?

You try to break the tension, clearing your throat, “Well, she was being a bitch.” But he does not laugh, he just stares down at you. The rise and fall of his chest insinuates that he’s on the verge of panicking if you do not respond positively. “Yeah, she was.”

The silence eats away at you. The last part of his statement bounces around in your brain.

“A goner?”

Your nose wiggles and Eddie cannot deny how much he just wants to lift you off your feet and ravish you in that moment. You did not know the effect you had on him just by changing your facial impression to something so disgustingly cute. But it was the way you shifted under his gaze, your hand trailing up to his side, toying with the hem of his raggedy band t-shirt.

He returns the touch, his other hand propping up on your waist. The warmth moves around to your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“Yes, princess. A goner.”

His eyes droop and his mouth stays ajar as you too creep closer and closer together. The energy is surging off the ways, striking you in the back and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hand trails down to your neck, the coldness of his rings shocking your system further the moment they touch your collarbones.

You lick your lips, slowly. It’s enough to make Eddie groan.

“You still feel that way?”

He shakes his head, almost to say ‘duh’. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely. You sticking by me all summer and puttin’ up with me only confirmed that I am practically in love with you.”

Your heart could hammer out of your chest at any moment. You feel the chills only further drive your nerves. You shake your head, your hand now balling up his shirt. It’s almost like a threat. “I don’t believe you-” He cuts you off before you can continue. “Let me prove it to you.”

You watch his hands carefully drift down your chest, his fingers resting right on your breast bone. Your breath hitches and you slowly release the fabric between your fingers. You cannot help but trail your eyes back up to his lips, watching him teasingly lick them before leaning in further to you.

His pupils are huge and you are almost positive it’s because of the weed.

But it is not just that. Your scent alone is enough to make his cock swell in his tight black jeans. You have yet to notice, but once you do, Eddie knows his cheeks will go bright red.

The smell of weed is slowly being pulled out of your room by the crisp evening air pouring in from your window. It brings in a chill that has you shifting closer to feel his hot breath on your face. He is suddenly your heat source.

His head cowers down, his wet lips pressing hesitantly against your jaw. Your voice quivers as he drags his lips all the way to your chin. Your lips are so close, he could just press them together. But somehow that seems more intimate.

“Is this okay?” He ponders, millimeters from your mouth. You swallow back a hasty hum.

“Mhm.”

You were never shy of making the first move in situations like this, but your body has completely locked up. You are at his mercy and you are almost positive you would let him do anything to you right now.

His hands move quickly, sliding down your curves and committing them to memory.

You just close your eyes and wait. You feel it coming and seeing him get closer is going to send your heart beating out of your chest. When his lips finally grace yours, you two move slowly. Dragging out each movement, tongues slowly slipping past teeth.

Your brain draws a blank for a beat, not fully digesting the fact that you are kissing him. After weeks of getting high with him, teaching him about a subject you're passionate about, and that slight tension in the air. Especially after he first called you beautiful. That night you went home and tossed and turned in your bed.

Now he’s gently backing you up to the edge of the mattress, causing you to drop onto your bed with a bounce. He does not waste any time, connecting lips again and giggling as you lay on your back.

Eddie cannot believe you are below him, so willing to do something like this with him. The moment he starts to get in his head about it, he slowly pulls away from you, almost not to alarm you in any way.

But the way you look at him. He feels this pull in his chest, like a gravitational drift back to you. He hovers above you, eyes searching your face.

“God, you couldn’t get any more perfect.”

The heat returns to your entire body. “Stop.”

“Never, sweetheart.”

It seems like he’s going back in for another kiss, but instead he’s pressing his lips against your cheeks. You cannot help the smile that takes over your face. Your hands find a good spot, raking your nails gently through his scalp. The groans that escape him send pulsating need to your core.

The moment you wrap your leg around his, it’s like a signal for him to further his exploration. His mouth drags across your skin, leaving his saliva in its wake. When he stops at the base of your throat, your hips jolt forward. You feel his jeans straining to keep his cock in one spot.

“More,” You mewl, your shorts riding up with your t-shirt, revealing your thighs and hips to him. He cannot help the strangled chuckling that comes out when you start to beg for him. As if he could not get any harder.

“More, huh?” His digits spread out, dragging up your oversized shirt and kneading your flesh. The motion has you grinding against his leg even more. He’s dragging it out and it’s so painful. You wish he would just rip the bandaid off and completely unravel you.

He spares you the pleading and pushes up the fabric to reveal your bare chest. You had not planned to have guests and to be quite frank, you completely forgot you had no bra on. You thought he would have to fumble around to get the full display. He puts his weight on his one knee, admiring you for a moment. You get a bit nervous when he pulls away, only to quickly realize he’s brushing his hair up into a bun.

It gives you a better look at the beautiful smile on his face and his lust blown brown eyes.

“Can’t let the hair get in the way of all the things I’m about to do to you,” He admits, pecking you over and over again until you are laughing. “I can’t believe we are doing this.”

“I can,” You quip up, watching him unhinge his jaw right above your right nipple, “I see the way you look at me.”

Eddie shakes his head, his stubble brushing your flesh. His giggles subsiding the moment his lips wrap around your areola. You knew you were sensitive but you never felt so overstimulated in your life. The way his hands feel scooping your flesh. The way he is practically trying to fit your entire tit in his mouth. His guttural groans bouncing off your walls and canvases.

He consumes every one of your senses.

“Been dying to see you like this. You have the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen,” His voice is so gravelly and dripping with desire. Eddie needs to break the tension in his jeans, so while you are slipping your shirt off entirely, he pops the button on his pants. The zipper practically unfastens itself when he presses into you again, ravishing every inch of your chest. One hand on your waist, the other kneading your boob, all the while your hips are gyrating against his thigh.

“Need more of you, Eds,” You plead, hoping to whatever god existed that he would litter your floor with all of his clothes. You watch him free his hand from fondling you to pull his t-shirt off from the collar, only briefly coming up for air from feasting on your chest. “Take off my shorts.”

The moment you say that, his eyes bore into yours. “You sure?”

“Eddie,” You press, pushing stray hairs away from his face, “I need you so bad, I may explode.”

“Jesus, say that again.”

You cannot help but scoff, your reaction making your boobs jiggle in front of his face. You lean up to his level, pressing a long drawn out kiss to his neck before bringing your lips to his earlobe, “I need you. So bad.”

The animalistic groan that leaves his throat even takes him by surprise. He stands up, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and practically ripping them in half. You squeak, adjusting how your panties sit on your hips.

“Listen here, pretty girl, I am going to eat your pussy until you cum at least two times. And I’m gonna take my time. Then, if I don’t cum from doing that alone, I’m filling you up and fucking you exactly how I’ve wanted to for the last… I don’t know how many years.”

His game plan makes your stomach do gymnastics. His confidence in his words is simply derived from his primal need to please you.

Sure, he wants to get his rocks off, but he could live the rest of his days with blue balls, if it meant seeing you cum all over his mouth over and over again.

The creak of the bed makes Eddie giggle. You have had this bed since you were 11, it has seen better days.

He positions himself on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulder. Your panties were perfectly disguising the wetness that’s been pooling since Eddie started touching you. It was the only article of clothing left on your body. You want to feel insecure, but all of Eddie’s reassuring words wash over you. He sucks in a deep inhale, taking in your essence.

“Can I take these off?” He tuts, pressing his fingers perfectly between your fabric-covered folds. The pressure is almost enough to send you over the edge. The craving you have for him is borderline embarrassing.

“Please,” You whimper, shifting your hips a bit trying to feel any friction you can. He pulls his fingers away, lacing them around the hem of your blue panties. Instead of locking his eyes on your glistening core, his gaze follows the panties being pulled from your legs. Once they are discarded, he presses wet kisses against the inner part of your legs.

“You look like a dream, all spread out for me,” He admits, his face now hovering over your core, “You know I dreamt this before?”

He had. Countless times. Last summer when he watched you pack up your car for college, you were wearing these dangerously short daisy dukes and he stroked his cock about it for two months straight. Late at night, when he needed a release, he thought of you. He did not get much actual action in his day-to-day life, so his mind was consumed by his soul shattering crush on you.

“Eddie, I need you to do something.”

He ignores your pleas, dragging his lips across the skin right above your slit. He slowly drifts down, running his tongue through your folds, tasting every bit of you.

“Just me having my face buried between your thighs,” He slaps them gently before digging his nails into the meat of your thighs. “God, these thighs… just so perfect.”

You jut your hips down, practically forcing his mouth on you. As much as you loved his dirty talk, you needed action. “Eddie.”

He chuckles, pulling his arm from underneath you. He takes his own fingers in his mouth, lacing his own spit between his digits, “You are so pretty when you say my name, baby. You want me to touch this beautiful pussy, hm? She’s just leaking for me, huh?”

You grit your teeth, watching him spread your pussy lips apart and drag his fingers all along your weeping hole. “I swear to God-” “I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue, don’t worry baby,” He pushes your thighs open wider, “Just painting my own little picture first.”

Truth be told, he was trying to drag this out so he could commit everything to memory. You would be leaving for school again soon, so who knows if this will ever happen again?

In your head, with the way he’s treating your body like a canvas in the finest art museum in New York City, he would be packed in your suitcase and dragged back to school with you. You needed this, always.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue vibrating against your swollen clit. His fingers make work at fucking your hole, all the while his loose-lips occupy themselves making you feel good. Sure, you got head by guys before, but Eddie creates a whole different category in your brain. Maybe it is because you liked him so much and your body moved in sync with his. You were consumed by his very being.

His hips grind against his underwear and your bed sheets with every movement of his mouth. As he’s dragging your first orgasm out of you, he completely halts his lower body before he’s cumming in his jeans watching your body jolt forward and thighs clench around his ears. The sounds that pour out of you is music to his ears. Just enough to send him so close to the edge.

The mixture of your cum and his saliva on his lips is something you wish to harness in a painting one day. His loose curls falling around his profile as his tongue sweeps across his lips to gather everything onto his taste buds.

“God, this pussy is heaven. Fuckin’ divine.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit, giving it a quick swat before he peppers some kitten licks across your already sensitive clit.

“You are so good at that, my God,” You breathe out, your hands raking down the sides of your body, meeting his right hand on your thigh.

“Yeah?” he giggles, shifting up onto his elbows to get a better view of your body from above, “I really want to make you cum again.”

You don’t hide how desperate you are, “Can you just fuck me already?”

He laughs even harder, crawling up onto your lower stomach. He kisses right below your belly button, “Can I be honest?”

“No, I want you to lie to me,” You joke, your nails drifting around his forearm. His eyebrows raise, questioning your response silently. You roll your eyes, swatting him, “Yes, of course.”

“If I fuck you right now, I will cum almost immediately,” He admits, his voice gravelly.

“Well, we can go another round if you do.”

It’s like all the air leaves his lungs when you say that. He did not expect you to want to do this again. As much as he wanted to, he did not truly know where your mind was. You just drove the nail right into the coffin.

He pulls himself further up your body, his hand shifting to cup your mound as his mouth latched on your nipple. Your body instantly reacts to him, practically holding onto him for dear life, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew.

“Fine, I’ll fuck you now,” He mocks, dragging his lower lip up to your neck, “Since you’re just begging.”

You scoff, your hands finally reaching the waist of his jeans and yanking them down with his boxers. You would ignore the fact that he’s wearing Batman boxers. It was fitting, but also hilarious. You are more focused on the fact that he was huge.

Definitely the biggest you’ve ever held in your hand.

He looks between your bodies, smiling at the way your hand cradles his length. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming right now?”

This only happened in his dreams. It was about to consume your dreams, too, when you were done.

“All real,” You say, languidly pumping him, “I’m not sure how you’re gonna make it fit.”

You are feeding his ego. You knew that.

You are one of the prettiest girls to come out of Hawkins and you are saying he’s too big. He’s never going to shut up to Gareth and the guys about it. With your permission of course.

“Don’t you worry about that, princess. I’ll make sure it fits.”

He shifts onto his knees, propping your knees up on his waist. You gawk at it for a moment longer. His tip is glistening with precum, which only adds to the silkiness of it's appearance. You also have the perfect angle to feel up his chest, touching each of his tattoos with your pointer finger, as if to map each of them out. You offer a cheeky grin as he appreciates the swell of your breasts.

“Do you need me to get a condom?” He whispers, his cock probing at your inner thigh.

“I’m on the pill. And I’m… I haven’t slept with any guys without one.”

His jaw drops a bit, “And you are okay with me going in raw?”

You are not sure why you are so sure about Eddie, but you just are. All of this felt just right.

“Yeah. Only if you want to.”

Air escapes his nose dramatically as he uses his thumb to press down his shaft closer to your weeping hole. “Have I mentioned that you are perfect?”

“A million times now.”

“Gonna make it a hundred million by the end of this,” He sinks closer to you, his dripping tip diving between your lips, “And a trillion more times after.”

He drags himself over you, propping himself up right beside your head. The stretch starts to get more intense the more he slides into you. It is not a bad feeling, just something you would have to adjust to.

And he would have to adjust, too. The way your spongy walls squeeze him is so overwhelming, before he’s half way in, he twitches. “You’re squeezing me so good.”

“I’ll try to relax,” You manage, the quick snap forward he does taking you off guard, “Fuck, Eddie!”

“I’m sorry! I-” He tries to explain, but you shut him up by propping yourself up to meet his lips. He stills inside you, filling you to the brim but not moving. You were eager to shut him up before he made things awkward, because they simply did not need to be. He felt incredible. And with his lips slotted between yours, you feel as if you may have died and gone to heaven. You take his bottom lip between your teeth playfully as you pull away, eyes locked onto his, “Do it again.”

He experimentally pulls back, the lack of resistance as he fucks into you only possible because of how soaked you are. He repositions himself so he’s back on his knees, eyes locked on the way your pussy just sucks him in.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last,” He reminds you, pushing himself in deeper. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling for a bit. You cannot help but smirk at him, looking down as his hips snap to yours sluggishly.

“Yeah? Pussy’s too good for you?” You pose, trying your very best to drive him even more insane. There was something about his eyes when he got all worked up. They become this deeper shade of brown that causes chills to spread over your arms. When he finally looks back at you, a cheshire grin spreading across his face, you knew you were in for it.

He picks up his pace a bit, holding your upper thighs down. If he looks down at what’s happening below the waist, he will surely lose it. So instead, his almost carbon-black eyes bore into yours. With every moan and jolt against the bed, you are inching towards your own climax. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t stop, please.”

His smile droops a bit, his teeth clenching as the pace he’s at is causing the headboard to slam against your wall, “Yeah? I want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart. You know how much I love hearing you talk.”

The words send you babbling. Your pussy is practically gushing around him, but your body has yet to explode. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Eddie. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Knew you’d treat me good. So fuckin’ good.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, baby. Gonna fuck you every day just to make it up to you. I promise,” He accidentally steals a glance at your messy cunt and his dick twitches, “Ah shit, fuck.”

He knows he’s a goner. The way you squeeze him when he says that makes him take action to put you out of your pleasurable misery. He presses his thumb against your practically pulsating clit. The mixture of his pistoning hips and his frantic fingers makes your orgasm slam into you like a freight train. You grab onto whatever is close and curl your fingers around it. It just happens to be his t-shirt and your bed comforter.

With your mouth wide open, you keen endless curse words, trying your best not to alarm the nearby neighbors.

As your come down starts to soothe your buzzing nerves, Eddie’s hips still completely inside you.

You had never seen him so ethereal. His curls wild, his brow furrowed in concentration, his pale stomach muscles tense, jaw slack. He was surely your next muse.

“My god, princess,” He sighs, his body practically going limp over yours.

His hair falls around your mouth and nose as his head rests perfectly between your boobs. The curls tickle your nostrils, causing you to blow out aggressively.

“I love you, but please get your little hairs out of my nose,” You joke, pushing his hair down. The bun he put at the base of his head is practically completely undone, leaving his dark locks pooling all around you.

While you are too focused on his hair, Eddie’s ears are ringing at the first half of the sentence. His head slowly shifts to look up at you, his eyes now that beautiful warm hue. “You love me?”

His voice is shaking, nervous over the possibility you did not mean to say that. But it was one of those things. Instinctual. You knew you did love Eddie, so those words leaving your mouth seemed natural. You felt no need to retract them.

You nod, pushing some bangs away from his view, “Is that surprising? I don’t spend my precious summers with people I hate. I especially do not let them into my bedroom and let them look at all my paintings.”

The revelation is enough to make Eddie crawl up to your lips, pressing a chaste, eager kiss. His hand cradles your cheek as he pulls away, “I’m just that special.”

“You could say that.”

He laughs softly, “For the record, and I know we are keeping one, I love you, too.”

The goodbye always sucks.

You did not love being home, but this trailer was truly all you knew. You secretly did not despise Hawkins. It was home.

And now it was even more like home because it’s where Eddie was. So this goodbye is even worse than it was before.

He pulls your last suitcase into your Ford, closing the hitch for you as you hug your sister goodbye at the door. You walk down your creaking steps, eyes glued to the way Eddie stands at the back of your car. You practically fall into his arms, squeezing him so tight that you swear he may just mold to your body.

His hands do not want to leave your waist as his nose tucks into your neck.

“I’ll come visit you in a few weeks, I promise,” He hums, kissing the spot right below your ear. A slight chill runs up your spine. You will never get sick of his kisses. You have gotten very familiar with them lately.

“And I’ll come to visit in October for that Battle of the Bands,” You say as you pull away to get a good look at his face. His sweet, blushing face. “I’ll join your hoard of groupies.”

He scoffs, shifting back as if he’s appalled, “Hoard? That’s a bit dramatic. We have like… maybe 2.”

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. “Yeah, me and that girl Jeff drags around.”

“Jennifer is his cousin.”

You shake your head, completely dumbfounded, “Even worse.”

He laughs dryly in his throat, “I think she has a crush on Gareth or something.”

From the few times you have hung out with his group of friends in the last two weeks of your summer vacation, you did not get that impression from the girl. She seems very into her cousin.

“Right on,” You laugh, pulling him towards the driver’s side so you can get in, “Give me a grand kiss in front of the neighbors and let me go on my merry way.”

His hands lace around your back, groping your ass, “I’ll give ‘em an even better show if you want.”

You bring him down to your height, pressing a longing kiss to his lips. He deepens it, his groping now turning into him kneading your ass cheeks. You pull away the moment he does that, knowing your mom is probably watching from the kitchen window.

“You are a devious one, Munson,” You snicker, weaving your way out of his arms and into your driver’s seat. You start the car, letting it warm up as Eddie leans his hands on the very top of the car doorframe. His entire body blocks out the blistering sunlight, his shadow casting over your eyes.

“Yeah, maybe, but you love me.”

Your eyes flicker back up to him. God, you really did love him.

He slants more towards you, placing one more kiss on your mouth. Your stomach starts to roll when it hits you that you will not get to see him for the next few weeks. It makes your chest tighten the more you thought about it.

“I sure do.”

His nose crinkles, his eyes getting weepy, “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now, get on the road and call me sometime tonight? Let me know you made it safely?”

You lift your hand in a salute, “Of course, my art apprentice.”

np tags (love u guys and i gotta tag some of my fav eddie/steve writers): @mediocredreams @hockeyhughes @votel4dybird @minamoomoo @disabilitymissunderstood @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson au #eddie stranger things #gracieheartspedro #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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sparrows4bats · 4 months ago

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If Jon falls first, he would be so awkward at first. But the moment Damian reciprocates or shows any sign of feeling the same? All restraint is gone. Jon Kent is a simp and not afraid to let anyone know. He is gonna prove to Damian Wayne that not only is he an amazing boyfriend but he will be an even better husband.

He is giddy. Everything Damian does makes him blush and stutter. It's not just because Damian is cool and smart and handsome. He is all of those things, a degree of gorgeous and competent that leaves Jon in awe.

But he realises he likes Damian when they are arguing, and no matter how angry Jon gets, Damian never flinches at his red eyes. He never wonders for a moment if Jon will hurt him. Because Damian Trusts Him.

Jon thinks it may be a crush when Damian protects him after he is sent flying into a building during a mission, and Jon knows that even if he is Superman, Damian will always see him as Jonathan Kent.

Jon realises he is in love with Damian because of how kind he is, watching him with Lizzie and his pets. Even though Jon knows how hard it can be for him sometimes. It makes his chest ache with sweetness.

He decides to do something about it after he notices he's not the only one who has noticed how amazing Damian is. Kids at school, people at galas, and even other heroes look at his Robin like he's something they can have. It's unacceptable.

So he asks his Dad for help, and Clark explains some of how he convinced Lois Lane to marry him. (Clark Kent still considers it the best and hardest thing he has ever done. It doesn't stop him from laughing at his son for 10 solid minutes when he tells him. Bruce is going to be soooo pissed when Jon succeeds. It'll be hilarious)

Jon starts small. He invites Damian on missions and listens for any animal related emergencies Robin can come to. His Dad helps by distracting Batman while Jon sneaks into the Manor. (Clark trusts his son to call if he needs help, not that he would ever willingly put Damian in any real danger) Damian is confused by his change in behaviour but is happy to come along.

After long missions, Jon invites him to stay the night with him at his apartment or the farm. He delights in Damian wearing his clothes and being all sleepy and vulnerable. They share his bed, and Jon wakes up to Damian asleep on his chest. (Jon wants to wake up like this forever.)

So Jon starts to touch Damian more outside of half conscious cuddling. He hangs around his personal space like a cloud. Jon had thought Damian would hate it, but he accepted the closeness with ease. In fact, he melts. He doesn't hug back as tightly but leans on Jon in a way that makes Jon feel stronger than his powers ever have.

Next, he starts to do little things for him, like drop off coffee, and when Damian starts working to become a doctor, Jon makes sure he eats and sleeps between studying. Jon doesn't take in much information during Damians' study sessions, too focused on how Damians nose scrunches when he's concentrating, and how he blushes whenever Jon praises him.

Jon starts giving Damian little gifts; trinkets from wherever he travels, and pretty daggers he finds thanks to Diana. Damian receives each one with a smile and soon starts giving Jon gifts, too. Pieces of art he drew or food he finds in Gotham that he thinks Jon might enjoy. (Each drawing and painting is carefully framed in heat vision proof glass.)

Surprisingly, It's Damian who kisses him first. After Jon gives him a kitten that Clark saved from a tree. (Bruce said Damian couldn't adopt any more pets he said nothing about accepting them as gifts). The kiss is soft but full of passion, and Jon can't help but deepen it.

"I love you." Jon tells him when they pull back to breathe.

"Good, because if we do this, I couldn't bear it if you left me."

"Never, I'd fight the world to stay with you."

"And I'd defeat death to keep you at my side, Habibi." Jon kisses him again because he finally can. (Damian is even more handsome when he is under him, and Jon sends a silent thank you to whatever God is listening for letting him see it.)

(Clark was right, Bruce was pissed when he found Jon naked in Damians bed the next morning.)

Damian names the cat Clark after his future father in law. (Bruce will get his revenge, he swears, on BOTH Supers.)

#damian wayne #batfamily #jondami #batman #batfam #supersons #jon kent #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman #Clark Kent is petty #Clark Kent is a Menace #So is Jon #like father like son #Clark the Cat #damijon #Lois Lane is a Treasure

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aphrvdisiac · 10 months ago

Text

TO LIE AND LOVE LIKE YOU DO.

ellie williams & abby anderson x fem!reader.

part two of off to the races.

part three — the blackest day

summary — it’s been months since you ran away from the loves of your life. you think you have escaped them forever — only for them to return, with a sick game of cat and mouse coming into play as they remind you just how much you belong to them.

warning tags — adult language. extremely dark content; m*rder, stalking, possessive and obsessive behavior, threats of kidnapping, lowkey blackmail (?), threats made with a weapon. strong adult content; slapping, spitting, double penetration, edging, mommy and daddy kink(s), gun play, bondage, threesomes.

author’s message — let me know if i forgot any important missing tags for this. please proceed with caution as this part is extremely heavier than the first part; ellie and abby are so not nice in here, and it gets dark pretty quickly.

“Where the fuck could she have gone?” Abby asked, her and Ellie frantically searching the penthouse. “She knows better than to turn off her location, or leave unannounced.”

“She was just here, sleeping and resting,” Ellie stated, and their panic was overcomed with frustration and anger instead. You knew that if you went anywhere without them, that you had to tell them exactly where and your location could never go off.

They would chip you if they could. They have thought about it numerous times.

Ellie’s phone rang, and she grabbed it out of her back pocket, noticing Joel’s contact. “Hello?” She answered, irritation playing into her tone. “What’s goin’ on, Joel?”

“The police are heading to your place,” Joel said, and Ellie put the call on speaker. “I don’t know what you two have done this time, but it is bad and I am not helpin’ out with any clean ups.”

“What are you talking about?” Ellie asked.

“I’m not some moron, Ellie!” He yelled, and she rolled her eyes. “They know you killed someone. They know your girlfriend was with you, too. I called her, and asked questions.”

“You did what?” Abby shouted. “Joel, what the fuck!”

That’s how they knew you had run away from them. You were a timid and easily frightened individual, and now that you were aware of what they had done, you scurried away and were going to hide. The pair knew they had some time to track you down to your home.

“Fuck off, Joel,” Ellie cursed, ending the call. “We have time to get her, to make up a story or whatever. We can avoid the police for the night?”

They agreed to find you and explain everything, to lure you back to them as they assured that there was nothing to worry about.

Abby’s eyes go wide. “The shirt.”

Ellie cursed under her breath, running to the closet and into the hamper — only to find the shirt completely gone. You had taken it, and now many possibilities surged through their heads.

“It’s gone!” Ellie yelled, and before the two could leave the penthouse to go to you, two detectives walked in.

The amusing yet realistic part of everything is that even though they knew that you thought you had gotten away for good, they were preparing on how to get you back, and never be able to escape again.

You had a particular interest in Philosophy during high school.

You loved to read the knowledge these scholar men would try to pass on, what they had to say about life, beauty, or death. You wanted to understand their wisdom, their perspective of all things, of everything around them, and how they got to a certain point about it.

You remembered a certain quote from Plato, of how Zeus feared the power of two humans mending together as one, leaving them with four arms, four legs, a head with two faces on it. However, he was so threatened by this that he split them into two, and left them to wander Earth to find each other again.

You had believed in that quote when Ellie and Abby entered your life. These two girls, the most threatening pair, would put a grand shift on your life, and how you perceived it as. They utterly shifted your world, they took you in, and prioritized your needs.

You were worshiped by them.

You couldn’t see beyond the horizon of the world without them there, and in your isolation, you still didn’t know how to.

More than sixty-five days since your departure, leaving them behind, and not hearing a single word from them.

When you came to your parent’s villa, your mother opened the door, and you sobbed into her arms, clutching onto her. She hugged you, stroked your hair, and didn’t know if she should’ve spoken or not.

Your tears soaked into her shirt, and she had to nearly drag you inside, afraid of what was happening with you.

“My dear, what’s going on?” She asked, clear to see the exhausted look on your face, your eyes bloodshot as she sat you both down on the couch. “I haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

“I just… Abby and Ellie,” you sobbed, heavily breathing, and shook your head, still in denial of what they did. “I just need to be here for a while. I’m going to transfer to Oxford.”

“You already decided on Columbia,” your mother stated, and you continued to cry, earning a sigh out of her. “You can’t just drop it now.”

You wanted to scream, “they might kill me if I return. They may never let me go after that.” You knew that they were combing through New York, probably already onto their next target — you knew the lengths they would go to just to have you back.

That was something you couldn’t fucking stomach.

“Mom, please,” you whispered, your voice jagged and shaky. “I just can’t go back to the city.” You stared up at her, and she cradled your face in her hands for a moment before nodding, and let you rest your head on her lap.

“Okay, love. You can stay here,” she assured, rubbing your back, and let you sob until you finally calmed down and fell asleep.

The next morning, your father was telling you about Abby and Ellie, wondering if you had any idea about it.

“They’re in deep shit,” he said, glaring at you. “What are you not telling us?”

“I don’t know anything, dad!” You denied, and your mother stood aside, arms folded. “Joel already asked me the same things that you are! I don’t remember shit from that night!”

“So you were there?” Your dad asked, and you fell quiet. He took your silence as an answer, sighing heavily and rubbed his temple in frustration. “You weren’t with any one of them? At all?”

“I… Ellie gave me some coke,” you confessed, guilt reeling into you as you were partially lying, and throwing her under the rug. “I was having a tough night after this guy was harassing me, and after she gave it to me, I was left with Dina and Jesse.”

An exasperated sigh came from your mother, simply frustrated that you had been doing drugs. You were never going to be her perfect daughter, and you didn’t know how long it was going to take until she accepted that fact.

Your dad took a minute to process this information before grabbing your shoulders, and forcing you to look at him. “From here on out, you know nothing. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, and he brought you into a hug, coddling the back of your head. Your father’s affection was never this tender or earnest, and you knew he was only being protective for the family image, but you didn’t care for that — your father was holding you for the first time since you were eleven.

You had to change your phone number, deactivate any social media you had, and new butlers, maids, and chauffeurs were put into place. Your parents allowed you to move to London a month later, staying in a comfortable flat, but were patrolled by bodyguards in answer to your paranoia.

After your readjustment to life, you prevented yourself from hearing anything Abby or Ellie, or if they were at trial. You needed to focus on yourself, get your shit together, and focus on your classes at Oxford.

A few months into the new school, you kept your head low and isolated — something you were used to doing when at Faye Academy, before they made themselves stuck in your existence.

You considered taking your courses online, but knew you’d only lose your mind being stuck in your flat for days on end.

All in four months, your life was granted something that you’d forgotten — freedom.

Not that Abby and Ellie were extremely possessive, but you haven't known anyone besides them in a while. You were able to make friends at Oxford, go out to bars and diners, without the fear they may kill someone who even breathed in your general direction.

It was a relief. And you felt human again.

Your parents constantly checked in on you, and often tried to visit. It was the first time in a while since they hovered over you, and were concerned for your well being.

“Yes, mom. I’m fine,” you assured over the phone, the device stuck between your shoulder and ear as you were returning your textbooks. “I finished classes early, so I was thinking of going back to Milan for semester break.”

“Well, honey, you see,” your mother started off, clearing her throat. “Your father and I were going to attend a gala tomorrow; Joel is throwing it.”

“I thought you guys cut him off,” you said, rushing out of the library, and to your car. “Especially after everything.”

There was silence.

“Mom?”

“Ellie and Abby were found not guilty,” she said, and your heart sank to your stomach. “The trial concluded yesterday— we didn’t want to say anything.”

You froze in your tracks. “What?”

“They didn’t kill that boy. I guess he had enemies all along,” she continued, and your head spun. “If you come with us, they won’t be there. Joel assured us of it.”

“So everything is just fine now because they’re innocent?” You questioned.

“Honey, you’re acting as if you know something,” she stated, and you exasperatingly sighed, continuing your walk to your vehicle. “But Jerry and Joel did say they were going to get the girls in contact with a psychiatrist.”

“Huh, and why is that?”

“I’m not sure,” she muttered, and you hopped into your car, locking the doors. “Would you like to come? And maybe we can then spend a few days in the city. Shop around Fifth.”

“I’ll think about it, momma. Still unsure about the city,” you said, and she sighed, visibly exasperated with your nerves. “I just don’t want an accidental run in with the girls.”

“You guys were so close,” she remembered. “I don’t know what happened, but I hope you all make up soon; they were the best part of your life.”

“Bye, mom,” is all you said, hanging up the call, and tossed your phone into the passenger seat, along with your book bag. You heavily sighed, staring blankly out into the parking lot.

They were the best part of your life.

They were the tragedy of you. They were Hell masked as Heaven, where their lure was nothing more than a ticket to damnation.

Yet, all of them were bestowed to you. You were their alter, their religion, the only reason as to why they believed in life, as you did with them.

But in your time of being free from their grasp, you could breathe, and find a newer light where nothing could dim it.

Your phone dinged, and your eyes snapped over to it, hands fiddling for the device. You opened up the lock screen to see a message from a random number.

Unknown: Image Attached.

You swallowed thickly, your hands numbing as you unlocked your phone and went to the conversation.

It was a picture of you from last night, hanging out with your friend, Delilah. She was someone you had been fond of since attending Oxford, and you had gotten close to her.

Unknown: Cute girl.

R: Who the fuck is this???

Unknown: Didn’t know running made you so dumb.

Nausea washed over you, and fear rattled in your bones.

Unknown: Hi, little lamb. You miss us?

R: I’ll call the police.

Unknown: I’ll tell them you tampered with evidence. We wouldn’t want that, right? Pretty baby like you isn’t suitable for jail time.

R: You would go down with me.

Unknown: You betrayed us. What makes you think we wouldn’t betray you?

You wanted to break your phone on your steering wheel, and you searched the outside of your car, checking your surroundings. There were only a few students, and it was still light outside.

But you knew they were watching you.

Unknown: You run again, and we will find you.

R: Why now?

Unknown: Had some troubles along the way, baby. But we took our time keeping tabs on you. Oxford treating you nice? How’s every bitch who fucks you?

R: You’re stalking me?

Unknown: You really are fucking stupid.

R: Don’t think I won’t get a restraining order against you.

Unknown: Why would you want that, little lamb? After everything we have done for you? Didn’t take you for an ungrateful brat, you know. We have been there when you needed us, taken care of you, dealt with people for you.

R: You mean murder people.

Unknown: Mhm.

Unknown: Be careful, honey. Scary world we live in.

You tried to send another message, but it wouldn’t go through. “What the fuck, what the fuck!” You screamed, going to your phone contacts, and bringing your phone up to your ear.

“Miss, are you alright?” Carson asked. He had been your personal bodyguard since you moved to London, and was respectful of when you wanted to be alone. “Are you in danger?”

“I need my house and the surrounding area to be checked out,” you said, reviving your car engine, and pressed on the gas. “Check for any sort of security cameras, too. Tell Rosaline to pack a suitcase for me as well, I’m heading to Los Angeles.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carson answered, the call dropping, and you put your phone in your lap. You were trying not to get into a car accident on your way back to your flat, but you needed to leave the city immediately. You were just happy you finished your courses on time, and you didn’t need to worry about your education for a while.

About to reach home, your phone started to buzz in your lap. You pulled over to the side to look at the contact, only for it to be unknown again.

You hesitated on answering, just wanting to let it ring through, but a part of you wanted to know what sick agenda they had planned out for you. You knew they weren’t going to stop, that they needed you vulnerable and scared in order for them to pounce at you at the perfect moment; just like a prey and predator situation.

A game of cat and mouse.

You accepted the call, putting it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hi, bunny,” you heard Abby’s voice, and your head spun. It had been so long since you heard either girl's voice, that you frowned at the sound of it, and almost how comforting it could be. “Missed you.”

“Abby…” you whispered out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I… You both need to stop this.”

“Why, bun? You don’t like it?” She asked.

“You and Ellie killed Brandon, and probably many others,” you told her, sniffling as tears carelessly dropped out of your eyes. “I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but murder is wrong.”

“You have the shirt, bunny,” Abby stated, and you went quiet. “Why would you do that, hm? If you really wanted to dispose and run from us, you would’ve left it behind, or turned it over to the police.”

You couldn’t tell her your logic or reasoning behind taking the shirt. It even sounded unreal to you, unbelievable, given the circumstances, and how you ran off.

“I couldn’t help but think of what would happen if you both went to prison,” you admitted, hot water running down your cheeks. “I… You and Ellie protected me, and I thought it was only fair I returned the favor. But that didn’t mean I wanted you in my life again.”

Abby hummed. “And why is that?”

“I’m free,” you muttered, inhaling sharply. “You and her wanted to keep me in a cage, keep me locked up forever. You have done it ever since you stepped into my life, and I couldn’t see it until that evening.”

“You make it sound so horrible, bunny,” she breathily chuckled, able to hear Ellie’s own laughter roughly in the background. “Let me ask you again; who’s going to put up with you? Who was fucking there when Miranda Rhodes was fucking spilling rumors about you having eating disorders? Who the fuck handled Timothy Yales after he said he had sex with you after Winter formal?”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!” You shouted, millions of emotions flooding over you, and taking you at once, drowning “I never once fucking told you or Ellie to go out of your way to do that shit! I can fucking handle myself, and being away from you both has proved that.”

“Oh, bunny. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” Abby stated, sharp and clear with you. She talked as if you were dumb, that you were about out of your mind.

You could nearly burst apart, everything of you filled with terror and rage. You weren’t sure if they expected you to bow at their feet for all their maniacal endeavors they willingly decided to partake in, but you weren’t going to.

You had come this far without them, you had managed to escape them for a good time, and you weren’t planning on stopping everything now. You weren’t going to surrender your freedom and life all for them, all because you knew what they were, and what they could do.

“If I have to turn in that shirt to make sure I never see either of you ever again, I will,” you said, and hung up the call, dropping your phone back into your lap, and continued to drive back home.

The moment your car was parked, you rushed up the stairs of the building, and bursted through your front door. Your guards were all there, Rosaline getting finished up with your second suitcase as Carson approached you from the side.

“Miss, we have searched the area,” he stated, following you while you walked into your bedroom. “We found no sort of threat, especially here. I have called your family’s plane to be prepped and ready for take off to Los Angeles.”

“Carson, please close the door,” you said, sitting down on the edge of your naked bed. He listened, shutting it, leaving you and him in your bedroom as you looked up at him. “I need to ask a question, and this stays between us. Do you get that?”

“Of course, ma’am. I am under your and your parents serving,” he reassured, keeping himself near the door, a secure radius between the both of you.

“Is it possible for me to avoid the law? Few months ago, I may or may have not tampered with evidence,” you blurted, and he inhaled heavily, but nodded, tuned in with you. “My reason is so stupid, but I’m regretting keeping it in my possession, and I don’t want to anymore.”

“Well, what is it?” He wondered.

“A shirt,” you began, and he cocked his head to the side. “With blood on it. Someone’s blood who isn’t mine, because my ex-girlfriends in New York beat this dude who was harassing me.”

“And you want to turn this in now?” Carson asked, and you nodded. “Okay, miss. I’m going to see what I can do, and once I do, you can hand it over to me.”

“Thank you so much, Carson,” you smiled, standing up. “Now, let’s head to the city of angels.”

You had your own bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. It was cozy and spacious, everything to your liking, but only stayed at it when you wanted to escape home. You had once brought Abby and Ellie, and to that, you had to undergo a whole alias, and a different room.

You didn’t have much anxiety about being at Chateau, you were packed with protection, and knew the pair wouldn’t make so much time or risks since their trial had concluded, also sure that Abby understood your threat about the shirt.

You had flown late into the night, it was about three in the morning of the next day, and you were drained with exhaustion. Sleep was becoming you, yet you were on high alert, and couldn’t help but to keep checking your phone.

You worried that there would be another call, or a text; that they weren’t quite finished with their game. In your isolation, you had much time to mull over Abby and Ellie, the things they were capable of, or the people they were.

You knew blood and carnage were them. Their beauty and charm was a simple mask that only you were able to see past as violence and cruelty rotted in their souls. Maybe they couldn’t help how callous and aggressive they could be, but they lived off of it; it was all they were. There was nothing to stop them, nothing that could change them.

In a sense, you assumed your presence and soul balanced them out well — you were a complete polar opposite to them, and that’s what stood out to people at Faye Academy.

They were terrorizing, vicious females, standing with you — a loving, and free-spirited person who didn’t do much, and just kept to herself. Nobody understood or could comprehend it, but that didn't matter to them — you were the solace in their life.

You knew that they were still rough with people — mostly men — in high school, but you didn’t know you were the cause behind each act of violence that they performed. But it made sense, even as you built a timeline.

There was Teresa Doles; she had nitpicked at your appearance for weeks. When you had finally gone to Ellie and Abby about it, pictures of her partying, doing drugs, and medical records of her being in rehab had been leaked everywhere. Her family came from a prestigious lineage, and her reckless behavior put a great indent to it. She had to move to England.

Jonathan White had to be admitted to the hospital after an event for the school. Doctors said they found traces of drugs and poison in his system — which made you laugh because he said he would murder you for rejecting him for Junior prom. You recall him shouting at you, calling you a series of derogatory names, but paid no mind. Ellie and Abby weren’t happy when he told you such a thing.

Kayla Lynn was sent to the ER after her body had been found beaten and bloody in the bathroom. She was barely conscious, unrecognizable to those who found her — the doctors had to pull a tooth and fingerprints from her just to get an ID. You remembered how she bullied you for liking girls, calling you derogatory names, and even said she hoped you would be killed for it.

And you knew there just had to be more than those people. So many of your bullies either switched schools, dropped off the face of Earth, or were in physical therapy after you had told Abby and Ellie about what each of those people did to you.

You were too gullible and head over heels in love with the duo to know they were doing so much behind your back. You had been completely tuned in with love and the relationship, all you saw was them as your blessing.

They meant it when they said they would do anything for you.

“We handled it,” Ellie’s voice would play in your head from that morning. It would repeat itself like a broken record, never shutting up.

We handled it.

We murdered someone.

You didn’t know exactly why the murder scared you, or what provoked you to exactly take the shirt.

You were about to close your eyes until a knock tapped at your door. “Ma’am, it’s Carson,” he said, and you welcomed him in, sitting up on your bed.

You turned on the nightstand's lamp, and he gave you a small smile. “I found a way to submit the evidence without it being traced to you,” Carson said, and your heartbeat went still. “If only you’re wanting to give up the shirt, of course.”

“Well, that was quick,” you nervously laughed, staring down at your lap. “What’s the plan to turn it in?”

“I have trusted connections to the NYPD. Some officers work as guards like I do,” Carson reassured, and you hummed, chewing on your lower lip. “We can send the shirt to them as anonymous, and you won’t have to worry about the shipping coming back to you; it’ll be under my name.”

“Are you positive about that?”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” he said, and your body trembled, mind hazy. You knew it would be the moral thing to do; the guy harassed you, but Ellie and Abby could’ve done anything else besides murder.

The only murder you were aware of, of course.

These girls protected and defended you and your name. They would put the world on fire, yet never let a flame brush on your skin; they were the poisonous paradise you couldn’t see as Heaven or Hell.

You had to release them, though. You needed to grow up without them by your side, because you were more than them, and they were more than you.

And if the shirt didn’t get them anywhere, at least it was out of your grasp.

You got up from your bed, padding over to your suitcase and opened it up. You grabbed a brown paper bag, and held it close to your chest. “Please make sure I don’t get in trouble for this,” you said, pleading eyes looking into Carson’s soft ones.

He could tell you were beyond frightened. That you were just someone who didn’t mean to do this, that your kind heart thought you were doing something right.

You had absolutely nothing to do with this crime, but somehow, you looked ashamed and guilty as if you did. In a sense, you were — you called Abby about the guy, you knew very well what she was capable of. It was no secret how violent and cruel Abby and Ellie could be — physically or emotionally.

“You’re safe with me,” Carson promised, and you smiled small, hesitantly handing him the bag. “Are you sure about this?”

The bag was out of your hold, Carson grasping onto it. “They need to learn their lesson,” you said, all your logic and thoughts mixed up in your head, utterly brainless at this given rate. “And I just want them to stay out of my life for good.”

He just nodded, taking the bag with him as he exited the room, leaving you alone again.

You couldn’t sleep after that. You couldn’t even try to rest knowing you were going to ruin their lives, putting into consideration all they did for you.

But, you had just regained your freedom, discovered who you were without them. You were able to make friends without their eyes boring into your soul, you could live in peace.

You couldn’t accept anymore threats or violence, just so you could remain theirs forever. Because you knew if they truly loved you, they wouldn’t put you in harm's way.

You stared blankly at the ceiling, trapped in your mind when your phone had a sudden ring to it. Your heart stopped, and you froze, your body wanting to sink into the mattress.

You let your phone ring through, letting silence fall pass after the noise stopped.

Not even a minute ticked by as the phone rang again.

You reached for your device, answering the call and brought it up to your ear. “What?”

“So much attitude, little lamb. You’re going to hurt my feelings,” Ellie's voice came through, and you sighed, sitting up. “I’m starting to like this game. Because I know you’re fucking scared.”

You scoffed. “No I’m not. I’m just wanting you to leave me alone.”

“You can’t deal with the idea of what might happen if we catch you,” she began, and shivers cascaded on your body, holding in your breath. “You want to keep running, baby? I don’t mind the chase— it’s exhilarating.”

“You’re fucking sick.”

“You knew that, bunny,” Abby joined in, taking over the call. “Why are you acting so surprised? You fucking got off on how insane we got about you, don’t act clueless now.”

“I was naive,” you retorted. “I was manipulated and blinded by you two.”

“Manipulated? Big idea for you to get at,” she continued, and you heard Ellie’s cruel laugh in the background of the call. “You knew what you were doing when coming to us about your bullies. You knew what we all would get out of it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you muttered.

“You liked us hurting you too, bunny,” she stated, and your breaths were becoming uneven. “Always in skimpy outfits, flirting with others to get our attention. We fucking saw through you. You’re just as sick as us.”

“Shut the fuck up, Abigail!”

“Using my full name? I’m so frightened,” Abby chuckled, amused and lightened by your poor intimidation act. “Got me shaking in my boots here, sweetheart.”

“I hope you die— both of you.”

“God forbid, right? Then who’ll take care of you?” Ellie returned into the conversation. “Not even that Delilah bitch could do it. Or Holly, Nicole, Emily, Zaya— no one.”

You fell quiet for a moment, your eyes widened in disbelief. “How do you know them?”

“Baby, we told you this,” Ellie reminded you, sighing. “If you were to leave us, we would get you again.”

You zipped your mouth, anxiety surging through you.

“Having fun at the Marmont?” Ellie asked, and you shot up from your bed. “Nice name you got— Emily Dickinson. Really… that name?”

“You’re fucking here?” You asked.

Ellie snickered. “Always in your corner.”

“I have people here, patrolling—“

“Oh, we get it, you fucking princess!” She yelled. “We know you have men, we aren’t idiots. For a valedictorian, you are sure fucking dense. You think you’re always one step ahead, but you aren’t.”

“Fuck you, Williams,” you sneered.

“See you real soon, lamb,” she said, and the call ended. You knew there was no point in trying to reach the number again, it was unknown and a useless line.

Ellie and Abby stood at the top of the hotel, Delilah beaten as cable ties strapped her wrists behind her back. “Alright, you bitch,” Abby picked up Delilah from the ground, adjusting the feeble girl on her feet.

“She’s…. she’ll hate you for this,” Delilah croaked out. “And no one will believe I’ve jumped to my death.” Her head was spinning, barely conscious enough to process what these two random, strange women wanted with her, or why they cared so much. She swore a second ago she was in her flat, sound asleep and relaxed, and now she was on top of the roof of the Chateau Marmont.

None of this made sense.

“We are going to share this little secret with you since you will be dying,” Ellie said, taking out a cigarette from her pocket. “You’re not the first person who has pleaded for their life, or thought their death wouldn’t be convincing. We do this all for her, and unfortunately, she does enjoy it.”

Delilah shook her head. “No, no. You don’t know her whatsoever.”

“She brought you here to your death, sweet Delilah,” Ellie continued on, puffing out a blow. “She knows that whoever tries to steal or touch her, will be either beaten or killed by us.”

“She wanted you dead,” Abby added, and Delilah broke into hysterical sobs. “And we do give our girl whatever she wants.”

Ellie cut off the cable ties, and Abby maneuvered the frail girl over to the ledge. “Anything else you need to say, honey?” Abby asked, and Delilah’s lips parted, prepared to speak. “I don’t give a shit,” the blonde said, pushing her off as her and Ellie watched attentively, grinning to themselves as Delilah’s body splat on the concrete, blood making a river around herself.

It wasn’t long until your guards were shouting, and there were sirens in the distance.

“Ma’am, there’s been an incident on the grounds,” Carson bursted into your room, and you swallowed thickly, your phone grasped in your hands.

You threw on a robe and your slippers, pushing your way through the men. “Let me go!” You shouted, Carson being the one to shove them off. “I need to see what happened outside!”

“It’s for your safety that you don’t!” One of the men, Jackson, protested, but Carson seized your arm, and tugged you outside by your bicep.

“We listen to her,” he reminded the group as they all followed you outside. You could hear a wave of voices and distress, police officers talking to one another. In your gut, you knew something wasn’t right, and you were overwhelmed with nausea.

The noise drew you closer to the entrance of the hotel, where a symphony of shouts were clattering, and police lights mixed into the moon’s gleam. A part of you told yourself to get back into your abode, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your feet tugged your forward, curiosity tingling in your body.

You shoved yourself through a heavy crowd, officers trying to get everyone to back away or stop filming what was happening.

“Excuse me!” You yelled, and pulled yourself further in.

You regretted listening to yourself for another time. Fiery and stressed voices shifted into echoes, banging off the earth’s walls, your eyes struck open by a corpse splashed on the pavement.

Your heart beated in your throat, vomit coating it, and knots twisted in your stomach.

Delilah.

Delilah was on the ground. In front of you.

Your brain didn’t dare register any part of the gory, morbid scene that was plastered in front of you. Blood pooled around her head, her scalp visibly cracked open and her eyes open. You swore she was staring at you, everything in you shaking and trembling with great fear.

“Ma’am, get back!” An officer shouted at you, taking you out of your trance. “Please, this is a crime scene!”

“I… I know her,” you stated, and Carson approached your side. “That’s my friend— her name is Delilah Morse.”

“Please sir, let us get through,” Carson chimed in, and the officer sighed, shaking his head. “This is someone she knows. Only she’ll give you details.”

The officer went to discuss with another official, and your hand buzzed. You flinched to it, not realizing you kept your phone in your hold.

You received a message from Unknown.

Unknown: Want to keep playing, baby?

Unknown: Look at you, so scared and sick. It’ll stop once you give up.

A tear from you covered the screen, and Carson had to push you out of your stare. “Ma’am, let’s go,” he said, and you had not realized the officer was holding up the caution tape to let you through.

You heard a female’s voice come to the side of you. “I’m Detective Anna Blake. What’s your name, and relationship to the victim, miss?”

You stated your name, your voice hush and shaky as you couldn’t look away from Delilah’s body.

“And your relationship?” Anna asked.

“We… I was her friend,” you answered. “What… what did she do?”

“It looks like an apparent suicide,” she responded, and that was enough for her to gain your full attention, a confused expression plastered on your face. “She dropped from the rooftop, and ate it right here.”

“That can’t be,” you shook your head. “Delilah wasn’t at all suicidal, or had any ideations. She was the most positive person I knew.”

“Yeah, but people have personas,” Anna stated, and you furrowed your brows. “She could’ve been acting for you, and everyone else.”

“She’s from London, Detective,” you said, and she stared at you appalled, but intrigued. “She wouldn’t kill herself here.”

Anna was quiet for a sparse second. “Huh… do you know something we don’t?”

Why couldn’t you just shut the fuck up?

There was an open entrance for the vehicles to come through, and for a moment, you swore you saw Ellie and Abby standing across the street.

You knew their silhouettes. And they were watching you, witnessing their crime.

You stared at them back, because now you accepted the truth that no matter where you ran off, that would be there. They would create mess and murder back to back until you gave up the running, and realized you only belonged to them.

Fear was a disease in you, and the only way to kill it was to face them.

Your mother wanted you back in New York. She gave you no choice but to attend the Gala with her and your father.

You tried your best to talk your way out of it, explaining that you had just witnessed your best friend’s corpse the previous evening.

Your mother said the Gala would be a great distraction. You tried to make any point or excuse to stay home, until your father had himself step into the argument. He tended to never insert himself into fights with you and your mom, but this time he felt the need to, and that’s when you were left with no choice.

Of course, your main concern was that Ellie and Abby were going to be there, and confronting them was going to be an inevitable situation. You had to prepare yourself the most as to what to say or do if they were to be in your eye radius.

“This dress is killing me,” you muttered, patting down the bottom part of the simple, yet elegant dress you wore. “And the corset of this is smashing my boobs.”

“Your dress is lovely, dear,” your mother assured, and you scowled. “You have always loved long dresses like this; so long at the bottom, we can’t even see your heels. And you always adored sleeveless corset tops on them, too!”

“You look perfect, honey. You wore this exact dress for junior prom,” your dad reminded, and you shivered to the memory of it. Abby and Ellie were your escort — of course — and everyone adored your dress, even making it into a page in Vogue because it was Vivienne Westwood.

“I just… I don’t want to see them,” you muttered, and the limousine came to a halt. “And it just doesn’t feel right being here, having fun and socializing, when my friend just fucking died.”

“Cherie, Delilah’s death was not your fault or anything,” your mother said, and you glared at her. “It is unfortunate it took place at the same time you were there, but she was just an unhappy girl.”

You didn’t want to converse with her anymore, only getting out of the car before any of them, and were immediately blinded by flashing lights. Your parents stood behind you, and you fixed up a promising smile, making your way into the gala.

The second cameras and screaming men were out of your way, you hunted down a busboy for a glass of champagne. “I will take that!” You grabbed the drink from the silver tray, thanking the man, and earned a groan from your parents.

“Can you at least greet people before you get wasted?” Your father asked, and you shrugged, letting him drag you over to the familiar faces of Jerry Anderson and Joel Miller. You hadn’t seen them since the few days before the murder.

“Ah, there she is!” Jerry exclaimed, and you exchanged a cheek kiss with him, and Joel. “We heard you moved to London. Oxford, right?”

“Yes. It’s been quite delightful,” you shortly shared. “I finished exams early, so I came back into town for the meantime.”

“And do you plan to catch up with the girls?” Joel asked.

You knew at that moment that no one quite understood what really took place that night, and you would never confess to it. They all blindly assumed that there was a great falling out in response to the murder of Brandon James, that you simply didn’t tolerate that behavior, and in some parts of that, it was true.

You had no place or reason to tell the whole truth, or to be honest, when there was an exact, appropriate place to share such a thing. Yet however, if you did, no one would believe you — there was no evidential proof or key to say that Ellie and Abby killed him.

They thought the girls were saints, who were being wronged by another higher power.

The actual case would have them dropping to the ground, and you couldn’t exactly say, “Abby and Ellie are sadistic killers who get off to the pain and torture.”

God fucking forbid, though.

“I’m not so sure,” you answered, taking a light sip of your champagne. “I want to keep to myself for the meantime, and make more goals for my future.”

“Well, if they came tonight, I’m sure it would’ve been lovely,” Jerry said, and you dryly laughed with them.

Champagne wasn’t enough to fill the hollow in you. You needed the strongest shit to exist at the bar.

You had a clear cue to let yourself leave their conversation, leaving you alone in the event. You went to the bar, and sat there, requesting a martini. You put your clutch purse in front of you, and sighed heavily, a migraine coming to your head.

You weren’t used to going to these high class functions by yourself — hell, you didn��t even go until the girls became a part of your life, and would be by your side at each and every one of them. It made your parents happy that they were there to tug you out of your shell, make you more extroverted.

A figure sat at the chair next to you, yet you didn’t pay any mind to it.

Until they said your name, and the voice was familiar.

Your eyes flickered to the side, and you saw Dina. Your eyes widened, your body directing toward her, and she smiled. “How have you been!” She cheered, pulling you into a hug, and you could only hug back. “You fell off the face of planet Earth!”

“Oh, yeah,” you broke the hug, facing her. “I… I decided to do school at Oxford. I just needed to get out of the city.”

“Oxford is nice,” she said, smiling small. “Jesse and I were worried about you. The girls said you had broken up with them.”

You gawked at her in disbelief as she went on to order herself a drink.

Who else was fucking clueless?

“Well, I guess,” you mumbled, your martini set down in front of you. “We just had issues we couldn’t resolve from the night before.”

“Oh shit, that sucks,” she sighed, shaking her head. “The breakup must have been terrible to have you move to London.”

Her glass of tequila on rocks came to her as she took a refreshing sip of it, and you were about to claw out your eyes. Either she had brain damage, was lying, or truly wasn’t aware of what occurred that night, but must have since it happened at Jesse’s club.

“Dina Woodward, be fucking serious with me,” you said, and she raised a brow. “You know what happened. That night.”

She blankly stared at you.

“That night… at your boyfriend’s club…”

Dina shrugged, and you were taken aback. “Jesse must know, then.”

“Ellie and Abby were accused of a serious crime,” she began, and you bitterly scoffed, “which they were found innocent to. They had to go through that trial alone, they went through Hell without you.”

“They killed him, Dina,” you told her, yet lowered your voice due to the gossip crowd that circulated. “You cannot seriously be defending them.”

“I’m not defending them,” Dina stated, and you rolled your eyes, downing your martini. “They have plenty of enemies, and you know that, too. Everyone wants to see them at their absolute worst, and do their own dirty work to make it happen.”

You got up from your seat, grabbing your purse. “It was nice seeing you, Dina.”

You shoved your way through the bustling crowd, and were stuck in the middle as soon as your phone began to buzz.

“Not this shit again,” you mumbled to yourself, and pulled out your phone, putting it up to your ear. “What the fuck can I do for you?”

“You look pretty, sweetheart,” Ellie said. “Don’t you worry, we aren’t in your vicinity.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking pleased to hear that,” you exasperated, rubbing your temple in frustration. “Then how do you know I’m here?”

“You’re right, my apologies,” Ellie laughed, and you heard rustling over the line.

“Bunny, we are going to play a game,” Abby came to the line, and your heart jumped rapidly. “We can see you, but we’ve made sure you can’t catch a glimpse of us.”

“What do you want?” You asked.

“You still don’t get it, darling. But that’s okay,” she took a hast pause, collecting her thoughts. “We told you many times that if you were to run, we would catch you, because you are ours. You can hide, change your name, go to different universities, but we will always be there.”

You swallowed thickly, knowing you were getting stares to your frightened look on your face.

“Your parents don’t give a shit about you, they only kept you away so their image wouldn’t be ruined,” she said, and you knew that was more than true; your parents would do anything to remain prestigious and clean, and you were the taint in their life. “You said you kept that shirt to return the favor, but there’s more than that.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about, Anderson,” you scoffed, and she hummed. “I gave that shirt away; you and Ellie are going to prison for good.”

“We’ll see about that, bunny,” she said, and the line went flat. You rushed yourself to the ladies room, nausea building in you as the room spun, and your nerves weakened your muscles. Laughter and shouts from strangers rang in your ears as you dragged yourself further to the bathroom, and the sickening gut feeling came back to you.

You couldn’t pull apart if you were truly just sick to your stomach, or your intuition was stronger than ever.

You pushed the door open to the ladies room, and to your luck, it was completely empty. You lunged yourself into a stall, and collapsed down on your knees, yucking it up into the toilet. Your anxiety and worry got the best of you, making you a mess so easily, and you were embarrassed by it.

You stood up after a few minutes, taking in slow, steady breaths, and gathered yourself, standing back up. You moved over to the sink, and settled your purse down, opening it up to grab your lipstick. You rinsed out your mouth with the faucet water, and sighed heavily, turning off the sink.

You reapplied your scarlet red lipstick, and put the item back into your purse, along with your phone.

Then a click was made from the side of you, gaining your attention.

The nausea came back, but not in a wave, yet in a violent crash. You swore your heart stopped for a moment, but could hear it violently beat in your eardrums while bile stung inside your throat, threatening to come out again.

Your body trembled, knees about to bring you down, and all you wanted to do was die at this very moment.

“Hey, little lamb,” Ellie said, grinning in pride. Your body pressed back against the sink’s counter, and tears approached over your eyes as you stared at her. “What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

“No… no,” you said, able to take yourself to the bathroom’s entrance. You opened it, only to be met with Abby instead, a wicked smile playing on her lips. “You are both not here.”

“Oh, but we are,” Abby said, moving forward in sync to your steps going backwards. She maintained a fairly safe distance, but one close enough to grab you if you tried to run. “Why so surprised, bunny? We promised this.”

Something about them was gravely different this time. There was a darker energy to them, a sense of evil and anger heating off of them as they stared at you down in the way the predator does when they have finally cornered their prey.

Yes, they got you, and you had no way out anymore — what a fucking terrifying and cruel revalation.

The cat got their little mouse, right by the tail.

You had fallen right into their trap perfectly, in all the ways they wanted you to. It took great cunning patience and practice to get you in this position, to have you trapped.

You were beyond scared; this was the reoccurring nightmare you dreamt of since the night you left. You always tried to consider or plan out what you would do if they were to approach you in any way, but you never paid mind to how methodical and intelligent they were.

You doubted their skills and abilities, and you were dumb to think they wouldn’t get you any time soon, that you would be free from them for a few more months, maybe a year or two – maybe even a lifetime — you wished and prayed upon it.

You were stuck now. The cat and mouse game came to their precise ending.

“Are you going to kill me now?” You asked, and they hummed, shrugging to themselves.

“Well, if we wanted that, we would have done it back in LA,” Abby said, and your eyes averted back and forth between them, trying to see if there was a possible way out. “Or back in London, who knows. We had so many open opportunities to kidnap you, but we liked this little game.”

“Is that what you’re planning to do now? Kidnap me?” You asked, snickering dryly. “Keep me hostage forever? Wouldn’t be anything new to me.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” Ellie told you, tilting her head to the side. “You liked this claim we have on you. You will never admit it and that’s okay, because we know it, baby.”

“Now let’s not be so rude,” Abby said, and you glanced at her. “Let’s say bye to our guests, and go back home, little bunny.”

Ellie and Abby had seemed to have enough time to decorate the penthouse. To your last memory of it, only the shared bedroom was furnished, and now, they had everything perfectly perched in precise spots.

You sat in the living room, on the black velvet couch as you stared out the window with a mindfulness of thoughts. The city was bustling, sirens louder than ever, and traffic stacked up. You tried to concentrate on the noise outside because it would be last time you would hear it.

The pair had finished fixing themselves up a drink, returning to the room, and sat across from you. You didn’t pay attention to them, fits of rage and terror consuming you inside. You don’t know why you thought you would actually escape them, and you had only dug yourself in a deep grave.

The familiar silence moved through the home, and you could feel their eyes spiking into you, waiting for you to say something. You had more than to say and ask, but you didn’t know where exactly to start, or if you were allowed to question certain things.

“You killed Delilah,” you blurted out, your eyes averting from the window. “You killed Brandon James, and many others, I assume.”

“We have,” Ellie answered, drinking her bourbon.

“I don’t get why. Why do you kill people? How do you even get away with it?” You asked, and Abby glanced over at Ellie, communicating to each other through their eyes. “Are you in like a fucking cartel or some shit?”

“Joel didn’t have an easy time getting to where he is,” Ellie began, setting her glass down, and slouched back on the couch. “He has some connections, and so does Jerry. It’s hard to get into it all, but they were doing illegal shit on the side to get money, build their legacies.”

“We didn’t kill until you,” Abby said, and you raised a brow, positioning your body in their direction. They could tell you were now intrigued, and you were; you were more than curious. “It was two months into knowing you, and you told us about Rachel Wayne. Remember her?”

“Of course I do. That bitch bullied me like it was her life’s purpose,” you lightly joked, and she sighed. “Why?”

“It was the day when she beat you in the girl’s bathroom, ramming your face into the blow dryer all because you got a higher score on your SAT,” Abby said, and you hissed at the memory. You were a good fighter, but Rachel’s envy possessed her strength that day, and she kicked you around like an animal in the bathroom.

She locked the door, keeping her friends, you, and herself locked in, while they recorded the whole moment. You went home with a concussion, a busted face, and cried to the girls about it.

“We were so fucking pissed,” Ellie said, scoffing to herself. “We knew Rachel well. We invited her over to my place, and made small talk, getting the information out of her about what occurred. We got names, and everything.”

You remained quiet, but stayed tuned in and fully focused.

“We got her high off cocaine, and once she was zoned out, we beat the fuck out of her,” she explained, and your heart thumped against your chest, about to pop out. “She was crying, and screaming; but it made us think of how that was you previously because of her. Our anger overrode us to the edge, and we started cracking her body in. We didn’t know we had killed her until she was completely fucking limp.”

“Those who had the video were dealt with too,” Abby assured. “If they refused to delete it, we made sure their lives would be ruined, their parents would be left with nothing. We knew how to obliterate these spoiled fucks.”

“Are you serious?” You asked. It was rumored that Rachel ran away to her boyfriend in Spain, and refused to come back because her parents were assholes to her, and just a straight disappointment to them. “How did you clean up your tracks?”

“Well, I called Joel in a panic, and told him everything,” Ellie answered, finishing her drink. “Joel told Abby and I to get ourselves cleaned up, and these men came over like an hour later, picking up after us.”

“They wiped our phones and tracks completely,” Abby said, and slid you forward her glass of whiskey. “And then we did it again, and Joel quickly realized we were doing it for you. He saw that you were our purpose, so he let us use his connections, and everything.”

“He was worried everything was going to collapse the second the cops came about Brandon,” Ellie recalled, and took out a fresh cigarette. “That was a mess we had to fix, of course. Like, I’d never seen Joel so pissed off before, it was insane.”

“How did you get away with the murder?” You questioned.

“Easy shit,” Abby laughed, shrugging. “He had himself in rough, bad business. We basically found someone who he owed money to, planted all the evidence and shit on that dude.”

“Now that motherfucker is serving life,” Ellie lit up the stick, inhaling sharply. “We made sure it wouldn’t come back to us.”

“But the shirt,” you reminded them, and they stared at you for a moment before aweing at your little tactic. “The shirt is with the cops.”

“Is it, though?” Abby teased, and a faint ding of the penthouse elevator chimed, footsteps approaching into the living room. “Right on time, too! God, I fucking love dramatics.”

Your eyes shifted to the noise, a broad and muscular figure walking to everyone; and you swore it was the night you were going to go into shock, or have an aneurysm.

Carson stood before you with the shirt in a clear zipped bag, and Abby stood up. “Thank you so much,” she grinned, and Ellie shook his head. “Your money has been transferred to your offshore account.”

“What the fuck?” You blurted, Carson directing his eyes towards you. “You knew?”

“I’m the one who’s been cleaning up their messes,” he admitted, and Abby opened up the bag, taking out the shirt. “It didn’t take much to convince your parents to hire me. I just needed a believable resume.”

You shot up from the couch, staring him down. “You told them where I was at, and everything! You are a fucking narc!”

“I didn’t have to tell them anything,” Carson dryly chuckled, amused by your terrified expression. “They were able to do that all on their own; I just gave them the starting point, and left it at that.”

You smacked him, the skin contact echoing in the home. He only laughed, finding you childish and weak, and shrugged. “I’ll have you fucking killed!”

“Loved to see you try,” he said, and took his exit, waving to the pair. You stared at where he was in utter shock, widely appalled with slight betrayal hitting your heart. You had trusted Carson wholeheartedly, felt secure and safe with him, and it all was a blinding lie.

Ellie started up the fireplace, and your eyes flickered to the ghostly fire. “No, no!” You shouted, trying to seize the shirt from Abby, but the auburn haired girl entrapped you in her hold, forcing you to watch the shirt to be burned.

“You know, I hope you start to learn tonight,” Abby tossed the shirt into the fire, and you wailed, thrashing in Ellie’s arms, yet it was pointless; in every way, they would always be stronger, you being a weakling.

The shirt crinkled and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Ellie let go of you, and you glared at her. “We aren’t done talking,” she settled you back on the couch, and Abby brought a glass of chardonnay to you. “Now we want our answers.”

“I’ll fuck you up!” You spat, and they tried not to laugh. “What else shit do you have to say?”

“What did you expect to happen when you came to us about your bullies?” Abby asked, genuine and engrossed. “Did you think we would just have chit chats?”

You took a second to yourself, and you stared down at your lap, fidgeting at your dress. Before Abby and Ellie came into your life for good, they were notorious at the academy, and held that title with such pride. You knew what they were capable of, what they could do, and you saw them as your defenders from everything.

Did a part of you know what you were doing? Yes, but not that it would lead them to murder. You never understood or knew why they were so fixated on you, even before they decided to lure you into their lives. They had been riveted by you, and there was not a clear indication as to why, but you used it to your full advantage.

Your parents didn’t care about you, and they knew that. All three of you played a dangerous, deadly role in the relationship; it was volatile and brutal, but it was all you had, and they were all you wanted.

You spent so much time running and hiding from them, you never took a particular moment to realize your role in everything. You took that shirt because it was a part of you; you had Brandon killed, he was a deadman the second you called Abby about him.

You were just as guilty as them, you were just as part of their games and murder.

No one else was going to do this for you, nobody would burn and tear apart the Earth just to have you in their grasp again.

“There’s our girl,” Abby cooed, and you looked up at them, tears in your eyes. “You finally understand. After these years, now it has come to you.”

“You gave us the cards, we just played them the way you liked,” Ellie said, and you downed the chardonnay, exhaling shakily as you set it down. “We knew you were too much like us, we couldn’t deny you anymore. We had to have you.”

“Every time you said we handled it,” you sucked in a hard, jagged breath, “was that code for ‘we killed someone”?”

“What else would it mean, princess?” She mused, burning her cigarette out alas in the ashtray on the coffee table.

A silence slowly creeped into the room, crinkling of the fire and outside traffic filling it as it lasted what felt like moments.

“You know the first time we say you — God, we just knew we had to have you,” Abby spoke, and your eyes trained focused on them. “You hypnotized us by simply existing, by being in our vicinity. It was like we were blessed to come across one of God’s angels.”

You were always sure that they were attracted to you because you simply co-existed within their class status, and because they knew you were the only girl at Faye Academy that wasn’t corrupted or tainted. You were like this fresh breath for them to use — and you still thought like that after everything they had done for you, and even prove that they did love you beyond your body.

“Why me?” You asked.

“We don’t know what you did to simply draw us in, but we couldn’t resist. Every time I saw you in class, in your nicely ironed pleated skirt, in your dark blue polo sweater… your makeup done so pretty…” Ellie reminisced, a crude grin playing onto her lips as she recalled the first moment she laid eyes on you. “You were so pure, so perfect for us. It was no longer about wanting you, it was about needing you — we had to; everyday that passed by where you weren’t in our grasp, we could almost die from it.”

“You will never truly know how much you have us at our knees for you, sweetheart, and that’s okay,” Abby said, and you sucked in a sharp breath, not knowing you had been barely breathing the entire time they spoke about you. “But understand the risks we would go through for you; we live and breathe you. We crave and yearn for you, despite the fact you are already ours. What is our purpose if you simply don’t exist in our lives?”

There was not much you could say to that, only able to break down. They sat up from the couch, and Ellie reached her hand out for yours, softly looking at you.

“Let’s go upstairs, baby,” she gently spoke to you, and peered up, hesitantly interlocking your fingers with hers. She walked you with her, Abby trailing close behind as an easy quietude settled in place, though your sniffles were the only thing to be heard.

Walking into the bedroom, you were momentarily paralyzed by the memory of your last moment in it. You were on that same bed when you put all the pieces together, and had left them with no letter or anything; you took your absence, and that was that.

Ellie guided you over to the wall mirror, her and Abby brushing up close on your back, the two attentively admiring you. “We would do anything for you, sweet girl,” Abby said, and your sobs slowly came to a halt. “We’ll always happily be your executioner, for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re our girl,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “But I think you need a fresh reminder of what you put us through.” Her hand hid behind her for a moment, grabbing something from the back of her jeans. A gun came into your vision, and your breath hitched, but she kept it by her side.

Your neck was met with Abby’s soft lips, her warm breath fanning against your skin, and her fingers loosened the strings of the corset. You softly moaned, Ellie fixated on the sight of you easily falling apart to Abby’s kissing, and grinned to herself. “Doesn’t take much to have you under us,” she said, and you eyed her, nodding.

The dress was undone, and easily dropped off your body, the duo getting the view they had longed for all this time. You were bare and exposed, only in underwear, and a primal urge had shadowed over them, wanting to ruin you without any thought.

“Oh, bunny,” Abby whispered. “Just as perfect as we remembered.”

Her lips separated from your marked neck, and you whimpered as Ellie pressed her gun to your abdomen. “What a sweet sight that I will never get tired of,” she mumbled, kissing your cheek. “Seeing you fucking petrified as if we will kill you at any moment.”

“But you won’t,” you retorted. “Right?”

“No,” she promised as the gun was slowly dragged to your temple, and she clicked the trigger, only for the barrel to be empty. You flinched to the trigger, your heart racing. “But we will hurt you, I can assure you that, little lamb.”

She used the gun to steer you to the foot of the bed. “On your fucking knees,” Abby demanded, and you collapsed to them, your knees thudding against the cold, hard granite tiles. “Anytime you stop, we use this gun, and you can find out yourself if the barrel is cleaned out.”

“Yes, mommy,” you muttered, and they amusingly hummed. Ellie kept the gun in position, using one hand to unbuckle her belt, and strip off her jeans as Abby did the same. It was a rare thing for them to have their straps under their pants, only if they knew they would have to handle you at any given moment, and this was one of them. You were going to come crawling back, and they were prepared for it, to claim and destroy you all in one.

“Mama gets to have you first,” Ellie said, and you parted your mouth open, Abby’s stuffing your mouth full with her cock, careless to your gagging. She had her way with you, her hand holding the top of your head as she thrusted herself into your mouth, trying your best to not pull back and gasp for air. The gun was there to keep you place, and you couldn’t ignore how it pressed deeply into the side of your head.

“That’s right, baby. Fuckin’ whore,” Abby said, and you tried to best out of your nose, desperate for more air. You used whatever strength you had, forcing your head back, and engulfed amounts of oxygen into your lungs. “What the fuck did we say?”

The trigger was pressed, and your ears rang with it. Empty, again.

“You’ve been away too long, princess,” Ellie said, and Abby retrieved your head, your mouth filled with the silicone object again. “Was too busy fucking other girls, huh? I bet they couldn’t make you like this; I can see you fucking dripping through your panties.”

Your arousal was a wildfire in you, spreading through your stomach, and down into your thighs. You could feel the mess you were making, seemingly ashamed and embarrassed how you got wet from their threats, with a gun pointed to you that was possibly clipped.

“There she is, now you are being good,” Abby praised, her thumb pressing away the tears that fell on your apple cheeks. “Always doing your best for us, hm? Knew you missed us too, baby.”

Ellie crouched down to your level, the gun lined up under your head as her grin turned into a twisted smirk. “All that we did for you, little one,” she mocked a frown, sighing. “And you just ran away like that? Coming home to find you gone, and betraying us?”

You were lightheaded and dizzy, your mind hazy, yet tried to stay focused. Your moans and whimpers gargled in your throat, drool running out of the corners of your mouth, and falling down onto your breasts.

“You belong to us, and you better start getting that through your fucking skull,” Ellie seethed, her bitter fury coating her mind. “You are only hurting yourself by doing the shit you do. A fucking brat you are.”

Abby decided to give up on you, your mouth hollow and free. She grabbed you by your throat, a sinister shade lingering in her eyes, and air whistled through her teeth. “Little bunny, you have no clue what you’ve done to yourself.”

You were put in the middle of the bed, and Ellie looked at her gun. “Let’s see if she can still take us,” she said, and Abby hummed, nodding. Ellie adjusted herself in between your legs, shoving them open, and stripped off your underwear, moaning at the sight of your cunt. “Fucking hell. She’s fucking soaking, babe.”

Abby had bunched ropes in her hand, kneeling into the bed, and stared at your cunt. “What a sick bitch you are, bunny,” she teased, running a finger down your slick folds, and you whined. “All of this from a gun, Ellie. She fucking loves it.”

Nothing else was said as Abby grasped onto your legs, and pushed your legs up against your chest. Her hands gripped on your wrists, having you hug the underneath of your legs, and made sure you kept yourself locked in the placement.

Ellie tied your wrists together, tight enough to not cut off any blood supply, and then went on to your ankles, knotting them in one. She used another string of rope to connect your ankles to your wrists, making your position trapped and stuck.

“We don’t want to hear you enjoying this,” Ellie said, and gave the gun over to Abby as the blonde sat herself in front of you. Ellie took off her strap, letting it drop to the ground, and took off her underwear, only to move herself over your face. She carefully lowered herself down on, and her aching cunt met your mouth as you obediently sucked and ran your tongue on it.

Abby slowly slipped the gun into you, yet you were soaked enough to let it easily be fucked into you. She pressed down onto your stomach as she rammed the cold weapon into your pussy, and you tried to muzzle your needy noises, tending to Ellie’s needs.

The auburn girl rutted herself against your mouth, eliciting shaky moans and cursed under her breath. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” she muttered, looking over at Abby while she continued to fist the gun into you.

You lathered Ellie’s slick on your tongue, pleased how it dripped over your lips as you moaned to the sweet taste of her. If your wrists weren’t restrained, you would keep your arms around her thighs just to eat her out for hours on end.

Abby and Ellie were intensely dominant, it was unwonted when you gave them pleasure. They were refusing about it, saying that you were the one who needed to be desired and tended to whenever you wanted to be.

You couldn’t tell if you were immensely desperate or if the gun was fucking you so well, that you were already at the peak of your climax. You denied your orgasm, needing to get Ellie to hers, and harshly ate her out, fucking her hole with your tongue, sending her into a moaning, pleading mess for you.

“Oh shit, sweetheart— yeah, keep going,” she softly moaned. “Being such a good girl for daddy, gonna make sure to cum in your pretty mouth.”

“She’s making a mess on your gun and sheets,” Abby said, and for a moment, your cunt was not filled until she pushed her cock into you. “There we fuckin’ go, this is exactly what she needs.”

Ellie craned her body near Abby, the two kissing each other in a sloppy manner as the blonde roughly fucked into you. Abby kept her close as Ellie’s jagged moans and whines breathed into her mouth, doing all she could to keep herself up and close.

“You going to cum, baby, hm?” Abby asked, and Ellie moaned against her lips, nodding. “Go on, cum for us. You can do it.”

Ellie’s orgasm came crashing down as she squirmed and cried out, twitching on your mouth. Ellie pushed herself up, kneeling beside your head and leaned down to kiss you, both of you moaning at the taste of her. You sucked on each other’s tongues, Ellie slipping her hand down your stomach, and made way in between your thighs, rubbing your cunt.

She broke apart the kiss, her free hand gripping onto your jaw to make forced eye contact, and spat into your mouth. “Make us proud, baby. Want you to give daddy a good one,” she whispered, and you kept your eyes trained into hers as Abby pounded herself deeper into you, the squelching noises of your slick mixing in with your whimpers and throaty moans.

“So fucking tight, never gonna get enough of this perfect pussy,” Abby breathed, her hands squeezing the back of your thighs. “Made just for us, sweet girl. Everything about you was made for us to worship and ruin.”

“No one fucked you like this back in London, huh?” Ellie asked, and you shook your head. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. Probably had to get off all by yourself while you thought of us, too.”

“Just… just thought of you two the entire time,” you confessed, brows knitted together. “I need you so bad, ‘m sorry.”

“We’re here, baby,” she said, kissing the side of your head. “Next time you try to escape, you’ll absolutely fucking regret it. Got that?”

You nodded, and a warm sensation kindled in the pits of your stomach, knowing the familiar feeling. You squirmed, and Abby glanced over at Ellie. “If she doesn’t understand, we’ll just beat it into her,” she said, making it a sincere promise, and a chaste kiss was made to your forehead. “I would hate to do that, but it might just happen.”

Your approaching orgasm made it too troubling to know if they would harm you in such a way, but you were at the point that you couldn’t put it past them.

“Cum for mommy,” Abby insisted, and you moaned, your hips jittering as your climax broke out of you, broken moans escaping from you. “That was fucking nothing, you crybaby.”

The cum from her strap leaked with yours, dripping out of your hole, and making a puddle in the bedsheets. She unknotted the ropes, tossing them to the ground shortly after, and massaged your wrists.

You laid there for a second before bursting out in a fit of laughter, the two confused by it.

“What?” Ellie bluntly asked.

“Surprised you even let me cum,” you said, laughing a little more. “Usually you have me work for it.”

Abby and Ellie looked at each other before their eyes went back to you as they puckered their lips in thought nodding to themselves. Ellie picked you up from the bed, and brought a violent backhand slap to your cheek, halting your laughter altogether.

“You want to keep fucking laughing!” She yelled, giving you another one. “You are even fucking lucky we are touching you. We could have had you strapped to a vibrator for hours, and hit you every time you tried to cum.” Your lightness turned into sobs, and you stared at her through glossy vision, your pout shaking on your lips. They had simply run over their limit and patience with you, and you no longer doubted the sadism they would lay on you.

Abby just stood by, soaking in your tears and how easy it was to crack you. It was enough for the both of them to get off. She took you from Ellie, putting your arms behind your back as her chest brushed up against it, and Ellie took off her shirt, harnessing back on her strap.

God, I know you hate me, you thought to yourself. But please, have mercy on me.

Abby spat down your ass, using the saliva as lubrication, and dipped you down onto her strap, your ass hole brutally being stretched open. She kept you steady and positioned right for Ellie, who was not far behind as she shoved her cock into you.

“Ride us, bitch,” Abby said, and you obliged, hissing under your breath. The pain lasted longer than you thought, tears flooding into your ears while their size brutalized your cunt. “Such a sensitive cry baby. So easy for us to break you.”

Your head fell back on her shoulder, looking up at her. “Please, mama. ‘M sorry, I’ll be so good for you.”

Ellie grabbed your jaw, a violent smack struck against your cheek. “You enjoy lying to us, all the fuckin’ time. We should’ve disposed of you a while ago, see how you would’ve done without us.”

“What a pity that would be,” Abby taunted, laughing breathily in your laugh. As they found humor at the thought of you being a lost lamb without them, you were ripping at the seams as you went on to ride them at a gentle pace for you, the discomfort shifting into grand pleasure. “I would like to see that. Maybe next time we will leave, have you feel what we did.”

“No no!” You cried, shaking your head, and broke into hysterical sobs. “Didn’t mean to go, swear I didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ellie jested, that eerie smirk of hers resting on her lips. “Because who will put up with you? Make you feel like this? Give into your fucking sick desires?”

“That’s why you’re perfect for us,” Abby noted, her hand creeping up to your neck, and viciously gripped on your throat. “Just as twisted and fucked in the head as us, more than you’d care to admit. No one will want or need you the way we do.”

You refused to deny them that. They were what you craved, they were the epitome of your lust and dreams, everything you yearned for, and were the helping hand to expose who you were to yourself. You would’ve done the same as them if they tried to leave; you would fucking slaughter those who they cared for just to have them again.

A match made in the ninth circle of Hell.

Your next high came to you, making it easily known as your noises got high pitched, making it an indicator. “Let me cum, please,” you pleaded, sobbing. “Want to cum, I need to— I’ll do anything you want.”

“We like you this way, stupid whore,” Abby said, and made the gun useful again, pointing it to your ribcage. “You cum, I pull the trigger.”

You body tensed, and you nodded, trying to ignore your unbearable high as it was becoming raw ecstasy to you. Your thighs trembled, about to give up on you, and you looked at Ellie through wettened eyelashes, your face drenched with tears and sweat.

The bedroom was rare filth, you could smell sin and vices burning through it. Your life was in their hands in every literal sense, but you wouldn’t have it any other way; you would rather die than not have them, and if that meant they would have to kill you themselves, you would let them. You were utterly nothing without them, and they knew it, too.

You had all the fucking wealth and privilege in the world to be someone, but you couldn’t be if they weren’t there on your side. You were them, and they were you. Your souls were eternally intertwined, and no matter where you went, you would always come back to them because they were it. They were all you sought out for.

Despite their desecration and souls being planted from Hell, they were Heaven and all things bliss.

You needed them. You would always need them.

You were winded out of your head as your orgasm stung inside of you, crying to be freed. You sobbed with it, shaking your head, but had to consider the gun that was indented into your skin. You had not known how much was passing when holding in your cum, but you couldn’t take it, and it was easily making you fall apart.

“Mommy, please!” You cried, blubbering in your tears. “I have to— ahh, please! I can’t do it, I can’t!”

“Yes you can, and you will, you fucking whore,” Ellie argued. “Unless you want to find out if the next shot has a bullet in it.”

You shook your head, and continued to break into sobs, your orgasm threatening to be released at the edge of you. It was becoming too much, your vision was blurring, and your heart was overwhelmed, almost frightened you would have a heart attack of some sort.

Ellie and Abby gave in, violently and recklessly pounding into you, putting your riding to a complete stop. You placed your hands on Ellie’s shoulders for support, Abby’s nails clawing into your throat as she continued to hold onto it for leverage while she maintained to hold you at gunpoint.

Utter euphoria rode over you, your eyes rolling to the inside of your head, and your back perfectly arched, crying out for the both of them. Your nails scratched at Ellie’s skin, your eyes getting a hast look at her fucking your cunt. Your noises and voice grated like rust at the back of your throat, breaths shuddering in your ribcage.

“You want to fucking cum, bunny?” Abby breathily asked. “Cry for it more if you really want it, sweetheart.”

“Mama, please!” You sobbed loudly, your mewls and cries faltering in your cries. “Want to be full of you, need to be bred by you two, please. Make me a pretty mommy for you, keep me trapped with you.”

They fucking lost it on you, ferociously driving themselves deeper into your wet, abused holes, and were coming to their own high. “Yeah, baby? Want daddy to fuck a baby into you?” Ellie cooed, a faux pout dangling on her lips. “Then you wouldn’t have anywhere to go.”

You nodded, on the brink of being braindead. “Yes, yes! I wanna be leaking of you. Wan’ mama and daddy to breed me so badly, please!”

You were an incoherent babbling mess, your voice raw and rough as you cried with your noises of gratification. They easily had you at the tip, and were ready to push you all the way down, keep you sobbing.

“Fucking cum for us, fuck!” Abby demanded, dropping the gun, and let go of your throat. She laid her hands on your torso, her nails scraping against your skin, and you hissed to it. Wanton moans and whimpers echoed throughout the room, and a second hadn’t passed when your climax ran out of you, riding it out as the girls went on to fuck you.

You let them use you like a fucktoy until they had come to their own orgasm, stuffing their cum into you as a symphony of curses sputtered from their lips. All movements came to a stop, bodies trembling and sticky.

You had to internally keep yourself conscious, but it was seeming impossible. You collapsed onto the bed the moment you were unfilled with their cocks, letting them handle themselves before you.

You could feel a warm, wet rag running over your legs, and you stared up at the ceiling, your eyes lazily blinking. “We need to clean you up, sweetheart. C’mon,” Ellie said, and picked you up, carrying you into the bathroom.

The three of you shared a warm bath, sitting in the middle of them as they cleaned you up nice and well, being sure to be gentle to touch you. You had missed the sweet scent of them, or how their violent hands could be so kind to your body, chaste kisses being pressed on your spine and forehead here and there.

It took you a few years for you to figure out your purpose with them, and all that they did for you. It was more than enough. To many, it would seem insane of your justifications and reasonings to why they did what they did for you, but no one else's opinion mattered in the fact. They worshiped you, they devoted every inch and breath of themselves to your protection and well being.

This is all you wanted. You and them forever the rest of your life. If carnage and bloodshed had to present, then so be it; because as long as you had them there by you, it was okay.

It was going to be okay forever.

2K notes · View notes

celli-ohs · 1 month ago

Text

i'll wait here tomorrow

pairing: choi soobin x reader

genre: collegeau!, parenthoodau!, angst, nsfw, fluff

previous: and then i'll leave without a trace

synopsis:from the moment you two made eye contact he hasn't been the same. it's like you've got him completely under your spell, not that he was complaining. when he wants to be more than a stranger in your bed you push him further away. choi soobin has what it takes to be your lover and more, he's sure of it. but after all he's done for you, was it worth all the pain and frustration?

word count: 17.3k

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, intoxication, foul language, stds and other sexual diseases, depression, parenting struggles, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex while inebriated, voyeurism, sex while pregnant, oral sex (m&f receiving), and breeding kink

playlist: i'll wait here tomorrow

taglist: @lesbiansforseonghwa @boobs4soobs @feet4liferss @jungmeowz @sooblogsstuff @soobinieswife @run2min @satoruismo @whoisgami @walmartshopper00 @thyunzzn @starlightwoo @w0nderfulb1iss @apmcake @tearfulpotatozuri @soobinz-wife @beomgyusluver @soobinslvr13 @hyunj00 @hyeoniemoon @akiyollyllyell @binvhs @jjhmk @soobsfairy444 @mey-archive @soobmeongie @kexiksexik @giegiemon @angelgraphica @yamamasjumpercables @imnotsureokay @sanscupid @cami-martinie-blog @hanamiwa1414 @mikitaxt @lostgirlysstuff @lunaryoongie

note: tada! the long awaited part two of atilwat has arrived! I'm very happy with how this came out, i've been grueling over this fic forever now and i can confidently say this and atilwat are my magnum opus of 2025!! (also this is not proof read sorry) i hope you guys enjoy it, it's a bit long so take some time to read! also p.s. today is my birthday! i've been trying hard to release this on time, i wanted to celebrate with this lmao. but thank you for all the support an love towards this series, i really appreciate everyone who thugged it out with me bc ngl i was going through it with school and work, which really affected my writing time and abilities. but we made it!! let's go! cheers and happy reading!!

Soobin doesn’t know where he’s going. He’s been driving down various roads for how long now. He just knows he needs to get away from you.

Was he being immature? Rude? Irresponsible? Yes, but so were you.

He’d just confessed his undying love for you, expressing how you mean the world and more to him, and all you did was dismiss him. You lied straight to his face.

While he was usually level-headed, like any normal person he has a breaking point. And today was that day.

Without much of a thought, his feet took him outside and into his car, and Soobin began to drive.

It’s been 20 minutes since he left the apartment. He contemplates turning around.

But as he stops at a red light he closes his eyes and as if it’s been burned into his retinas, he sees your crying face. You’re shaking your head as you refuse to face him.

“No I don’t,” You whisper.

The sound of your voice echoes inside his brain, it's haunting.

The car behind him honks, and Soobin’s eyes shoot open. The light is green now.

He begins driving again, farther and farther away.

Maybe this was for the best, he thinks to himself. He’s been entranced by you the moment you two first locked eyes, this could be him finally waking up from the illusion you presented him.

Another 45 minutes later Soobin pulls into the parking garage of his sister’s apartment complex, putting his car into park and turning off the ignition.

He noticed during his drive that the sky was pitch black, not a single star up above.

Soobin can’t even bring himself to leave the car. He sits in the driver’s seat, quiet and alone. And all he can think about is how you’ve made a permanent home in his heavy heart.

With a sigh, he closes his eyes and leans back into his seat, jaw clenched as he tries to figure out where it all went wrong.

Wedding bells.

That's the first thing Soobin hears when you two make eye contact for the first time. They’re loud, rattling his brain. Or maybe that was just the music blasting from the speaker right by his ears.

He’s currently forced up against the wall of some random’s living room, gripping his red solo cup of Sprite for dear life, all alone.

Yeonjun has ditched him to lock himself in a vacant room with a girl he just met. Taehyun and Beomgyu are stoned out on the balcony, and Kai’s thighs are currently a comfy seat for a pretty little freshman with bleach blonde hair.

And Soobin was pulled into this mess to be the designated driver.

He’s in an uninteresting conversation with a couple of classmates he kinda knew when his eyes linger to observe the crowd.

He’s taller than 98% of the people here, (the other 2% were getting their dicks wet) so it immediately catches his eyes when he notices someone the same height as him, maybe even taller.

It takes him a second but he realizes you’re in fact not taller than him, but instead you’re sitting on the kitchen counter surrounded by friends.

Your side profile seems to glow as you’re turned away from the yellow ray of the ceiling light of the kitchen. You’re in nothing but a short denim skirt and a floral hand tied halter top. Your hair flows down your back in waves as you tuck a lock behind your ear.

He’s so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize you’ve turned away from your conversation with your friends and caught him in the act.

Your eyes are intense, even in the dimly lit room. It’s like you can read his thoughts, his soul, his desires. Pair that with your plump and juicy lips seducing him, your messy hair framing your face.

One look from you and Soobin is sold.

He feels his heart begin to race, his cheeks heating up it’s almost painful. His hands are sweaty and his throat closes up. He has to look away, but his eyes find their way back to you.

You’re unmoving, gaze trained on him like a lioness on a hunt for her prey.

Soobin chugs his soda, and for the sake of his life he excuses himself from his acquaintances, and hurriedly rushes down the hall to the bathroom.

After forcing a couple out, he leans against the bathroom counter with his head in his hands. There’s only one thing on his mind and it’s shaped identically to you, the mysterious girl sitting on the kitchen counter.

Soobin looks at himself in the mirror, yet he can’t since it’s covered in watermarks and slightly scratched in the center. But he looks at his reflection regardless, trying to control himself. Even he’s never seen himself look this… disturbed. With a sigh and scratch of the head, he stands back up.

Was there such a thing as love at first sight?

The look of fear, confusion, and surprise is apparent on your face as you wake up. Soobin didn’t expect you to remember last night, mainly because he had little memory of the events that led to this moment as well. But seeing your expression harden at the sight of him had his stomach turning in unpleasant ways.

He can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for your reaction though. Maybe it’s because you were hungover, maybe you didn’t want him here, or maybe it’s because you’ve caught him in the act of trying to leave. He’d already slipped on his shirt.

You suddenly begin to cough and turn away, trying to get your throat under control.

He doesn’t know why, but Soobin waits for you to stop, there’s an inkling of worry building inside him as your coughs begin to subside.

“Fuck, my throat is so dry,” You croak, voice crackly as you were fresh from sleep. Soobin’s head swivels away before you turn back around, unable to even look in your general direction.

He reaches over and picks up his pants from the floor and quickly pulls them on. He glances at you, your attention is now on your blankets as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” He sputters out, unaware he’s even apologized until you look up at him in surprise. You blink, likely processing this information.

“Why?” You ask him. You’re hugging your blanket protectively against your chest, your hair is sticking out in random directions, and you still have remnants of last night’s makeup on your face.

Despite all of this, your eyes still hold the same intensity from last night. Pair that with the warm bright sun peeking through your window and the softness of your sheets. It’s a view that Soobin never imagined he’d witness, a juxtaposition to yesterday’s setting, yet his heartbeat speeds up nonetheless.

“For what happened. It’s a little weird, don’t you think?” Soobin shuffles in his place. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as you both are stuck in silence. He waits for your answer patiently.

You suddenly scoff, a smirk lacing your lips as you run a hand through your messy hair. “Is this your way of telling me you gave me something?”

Just like that, Soobin's calm facade crumbles. “No! Oh God, no!” He immediately shakes his head, like an excited dog’s tail. Is that what he made it seem like?! Soobin was clean- he was sure of it. He wasn’t the type to sleep around, and he went to every yearly check up-

Your laughter has him quickly realizing this was a joke.

“I’m joking,” You chuckle, lips curved up in a smile. Soobin sighs, his stress levels lowering. As you giggle to yourself, Soobin quietly watches as he finishes pulling on his socks. You have a pretty smile, and an even prettier laugh.

You look up at him again from your spot on the bed, and Soobin swears his heart skips a beat, a single smile from you could heal all of his problems.

“Don’t take what happened last night too seriously, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

Those words specifically have Soobin’s fantasy disappearing faster than a plume of smoke.

The air suddenly grows stiff and stale, it’s like time has suddenly stopped and trapped him inside of your room.

He’s ashamed to have even thought he had a chance with someone like you. Of course, he was nothing but a good fuck to have around. You could have anyone, you’d probably pick someone more entertaining and social than himself. To you, this was simple fun.

So Soobin just nods, grabbing his wallet and keys off the floor and excuses himself.

“Wait, you slept with L/n Y/n?!” Beomgyu sounds flabbergasted as Soobin takes a giant bite of his pizza. He nods innocently as he chews.

His friends all look at one another. It was rare for Soobin to have romantic feelings for someone, even rarer for him to date, but to sleep with a complete stranger? That was practically unheard of.

“Was she good?” Taehyun asks shamelessly, he leans over the table, wanting to hear every detail. Soobin shrugs. “No idea, I can’t remember a thing.” His friends groan, disappointed and annoyed.

“Then how do you know you guys even slept together?” Beomgyu argues, stealing some of Yeonjun’s french fries. “I mean I woke up in her bed, bare ass naked, I’m pretty sure we fucked.” Soobin scoffs before he takes a sip of his soda.

“Or! You two went to sleep and later got really hot so you both stripped and slept naked?” Kai suggested. “Yeah, like that’d be possible.” Yeonjun chews with his mouth open.

Soobin rolls his eyes. “Can we stop talking about this? It was a one time thing, she made that very clear.” He sounds almost sulky as he says this, taking another bite.

His friends shrug and change the subject back to their original topic: how Beomgyu ended up almost getting arrested last night.

Soobin wasn’t exactly following along with his best friend’s grandiose story. If he was being honest, he didn’t know your name until today. His friends had obviously figured out Soobin had ditched his position as DD that night, but had no idea as to why.

When he revealed the reason, all he had to do was describe you for the boys to immediately know who you were.

Apparently you were one of the best friends of Yu Jimin, Lee Heeseung’s ex and current girlfriend to Shin Ryujin. You didn’t necessarily have a reputation, but you were known to have a big personality and lots of friends, aka the exact opposite of him. You would never in a million chances hang out with someone the likes of Soobin.

As he’s lost in thought mindlessly eating, he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulls it out to see an unknown number calling. He reads over the contact, it seems familiar.

“Who is it?” Kai asks. Soobin shrugs, answering it. “Hello?” He clears his throat.

“Hey, is this Soobin’s number?”

The sound of your voice has him standing straight up at the table, knocking his chair over in the process. It’s so abrupt he causes Yeonjun to jump in his seat.

“Y-Yes, yeah this is him,” He prays he doesn’t sound stupid. You're quiet on the other line, as if you’re thinking. He hears you hum, there’s some shuffling.

“It’s Y/n. Do you think you could spare me a minute?”

Soobin could spare you more than a minute. He could spare you an hour, a day, a week, the rest of his life if you wanted. Of course if it meant he got to see you like this.

Your tight little crop top is now pulled up over your breasts, your panties pushed to the side as Soobin’s raw cock slips in and out of your heat like a mad man. You lay underneath him with your legs wide open, moaning as you grip his sheets, eyes fully rolled back.

What started as a simple conversation about last week ended with you both fucking like two dogs in heat.

“Harder,” You moan, eyes blown out as you selfishly cry for a release. Soobin does as he’s told, because right now with the way you look under him, he’d be a fool to not listen.

“Kiss me.” You order again, and Soobin dives in, snatching your lips in a tantalizing sloppy kiss. You’re so soft, warm and inviting, he can’t resist you at all. It’s like he’s been put under a spell the second you entered his life.

He feels you clenching around him and Soobin lets out a whine, how the hell did he spend an entire night with you and now he can’t even last 10 minutes?!

He doesn’t get the chance to figure out the answer, because you suddenly push him away.

Immediately Soobin begins to panic.

“W-What- Why’re you-” He’s cut off when you push him against the mattress, your hands dance their way to his hard yearning dick, and you begin to tease him.

“How does a quiet guy like you have such a big fucking cock?” You mutter as you begin to pepper kisses across his face. Your question has Soobin feeling both embarrassed and proud. He thought he was pretty average.

“I- didn’t know- ah!” Soobin gasps when you delicately run a finger over his tip. The feeling of you leaning over him, your chest pressed against his, your legs tangled together, and your soft gentle hands rubbing his hard on, Soobin can’t think straight.

You distract him even further by littering his neck with hickeys, earning more and more soft whimpers from him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Soobin grunts, eyes closed shut as you jerk him off. His announcement has you sitting up again, your hand moving faster and faster.

“Cum for me baby,” You urged, your voice so sweet and alluring. He feels you kiss his tip and that completely sends him over the edge.

Soobin can feel his body shake as he cums, he’s out of breath and as he comes down from his high, you’re still sucking his cock.

His chest is rising and falling dramatically as he finally opens his eyes to take a peek at you.

You’re looking up at him with those innocent eyes, tongue tracing the length of his softening dick. You pause and lick your lips, before asking him a simple question.

“My turn?”

Everything about you has Soobin in pure awe. From the gentle curves of your body to the fine details of your soft eyelashes, he observes you as you sleep soundly in his arms.

You two were currently cuddling in his bed, you’re smushed against his side while he cradles you like a doll.

Well, it was more like you passed out from exhaustion after Soobin pounded you for almost 2 hours straight to be exact.

But you look absolutely too adorable right now for Soobin to not admire you. Your little snores make him smile, and the way you fit perfectly into his favorite hoodie has his heart fluttering.

He’s no longer watching TV, but he doesn’t care because he’s already seen the entire series twice now. All of his attention is focused solely on you.

It’s not very often he gets to see you like this.

Usually after spending time together, you had a habit of either leaving as soon as possible or kicking him out. This would mark the first time you ever spent actual time with him.

In a peculiar way, Soobin finds it entertaining to see you act so docile and vulnerable with him. It’s an odd juxtaposition to how you act in bed: bratty and bossy.

You like to be manhandled, but always have something to say to him. Whether it be instructing him how to eat you out, telling him to shut up, and most often, teasing him to the edge, you always knew how to push his buttons.

Soobin is unfortunately a pushover. He lets you do all these things in the hopes of you returning his budding feelings.

Sure during sex he can be dominant if he wants, but really it’s because he knows you want it too. Your eyes are so telling. He can read you like an open book with a single look.

So he also knows that you have no interest in him other than sex.

He hasn’t found the courage to ask you out on a real date yet, and his friends are horrible at convincing him that you’d say yes.

You suddenly sigh and turn to lay on your back, head still tilted in his direction.

Soobin watches you as your breath regulates again, you’re still deep in your sleep. He brushes a stray hair out of your face and decides to get some rest too, finally closing his eyes.

He dreams of you and wakes up hours later to an empty bed and his favorite hoodie missing.

Soobin doesn’t know exactly what entails in being someone’s fuck buddy. His friends have way more experience than him when it comes to doing these kinds of things, but this? No one ever warned him about this.

You assured Soobin that you two wouldn’t get caught, that no one would even know. And of course he listened, he trusted you. But when you pulled aside your bikini bottoms, sitting atop him and his hard cock, Soobin began to realize why you were insistent on doing this.

The thrill of others catching you two in the heat of the moment, it was enough to have him bucking his hips up into your cunt like a madman.

The water in the hot tub was already erupting with bubbles, add splashing of water from you bouncing on his cock and you had created a nasty sea storm.

Your lips are locked onto Soobin’s your hair is wet and stuck to your skin, but neither of you could care less.

Soobin can’t believe it, your pussy was hotter and wetter than the actual jacuzzi, and he might actually lose his mind if you kept teasing him like this.

He can feel your erect nipple piercing through your thin bikini top, pressed against his chest. You’re whining against his mouth as you can’t seem to stop the movement of your hips.

His lips travel down to your exposed neck, and he suddenly decides he must cover you in marks. You’re moaning so loud right into his ear, it’s true music.

“Someone’s gonna hear you,” Soobin murmurs, as if he wasn’t also panting like a dog. “Why, you want them to join?” You laugh as you grind yourself on top of him.

He doesn’t take your joke lightly, grabbing you by the ass cheeks as he slams you down harder onto his cock.

You have to bite your tongue to shut up, your face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“No one gets to see you like this, only want you wet and pretty for me,” He growls into your ear, his jealousy rising at the mere thought of having to share you.

He’d rather consume you whole than even let a sliver of you be taken from him. And you let him devour you with no resistance.

u free tmrw? let’s grab coffee need to talk

Soobin reads your message over and over again as he sits in his car in the parking lot of the cafe you suggested.

He’d arrived a couple of minutes earlier than the time you agreed on, he was so worried that traffic would set him back that he left 15 minutes early.

Luckily for him, there was no traffic, unluckily he didn’t want to seem too desperate so now he’s hiding out in his car.

But right now his heart is racing, his fantasy has turned into a reality. He was finally going on his first date with you. Granted, he didn’t get to ask you out like he’d originally planned, but he didn’t mind when you messaged him first.

As he sits in his car, his attention is stolen by a familiar figure. You’re walking across the street to the cafe, looking gorgeous as ever. You’re in nothing but a simple pair of pants and a hoodie thrown on, your hair is a bit messy from the wind but he thinks you look perfect.

As you disappear from his view as you enter the cafe, Soobin looks down at his own outfit, suddenly feeling overdressed. Would you be able to tell he was excited?

He fiddles with his glasses, cleaning the lenses and adjusting them as they sit on his nose. After a few more minutes of stalling, Soobin takes a deep breath and exits his car.

Maybe you guys could go for a movie after, or maybe visit the river. He wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could.

Soobin slows to a stop as he approaches the large glass windows of the cafe to peek at you from outside. You’re sitting at a table tucked in the corner.

Leaning against your seat, you busy yourself by sipping your mug and looking around the cozy interior of the cafe. The warm lighting is so soft against the cold gray sky outside.

Snapping back into reality, Soobin builds the courage to finally walk to the front door. He opens it and steps inside, he’s greeted by the warm air and strong, dense smell of coffee. He barely hears the doorbell ring as he starts making his way towards you, wearing a shy smile and his heart on his sleeve.

Soobin notices your knees are facing the passenger door as he drives you back to your apartment.

Actually, your entire body is leaning away from him, as if trying to jump out of the car as soon as possible.

Soobin holds in a sigh as he tries to focus on the road ahead, but it’s hard when he’s trying not to have a mental breakdown. All because just one hour ago you’d made a confession: you were pregnant with his child.

You’d dropped the bomb at the cafe, successfully crumbling all of Soobin’s expectations.

The music plays softly in the background and fills the void as you two drive in silence. But there’s a lump in Soobin’s throat that is fighting to get out. He wants to say something, needs to.

He promised you he’d be there for you, that he’d be a helping hand. Soobin didn’t need to read your eyes to know you didn’t believe him. And if he were being honest, Soobin wasn’t sure if he could believe himself either.

A baby. His baby.

There was so much that came with bringing life into the world, and as a college student, Soobin wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

He’s not even sure why he agreed to support you if he were honest. You just looked so scared, so vulnerable, he couldn’t bear to see you so helpless.

You said you would give the baby up for adoption upon giving birth, which meant no real responsibilities for the two of you, but the fear and guilt still weighed in the air.

Your apartment couldn’t arrive fast enough. Soobin slowly pulls into the lot, putting his car in park in an empty space. You quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and jump out of the passenger side before Soobin can even reach for his buckle.

“Wait-” He’s barely able to catch the sleeve in time, forcing you to stop and look back at him.

You two don’t say anything, as if you were scared that speaking would make everything worse. The words pile up in his mouth, Soobin can only stare at you. His hand is shaking as his fingers tightly grip the thick cotton material of your hoodie.

You look panicked. His stomach drops.

“I-I’ll call you, yeah?” He stumbles over his words as he finally lets go of you. His hand falls to your seat. You just nod and your arm resumes your side, you step out of the car.

He watches from the comfort of his car as you hurry inside. You don’t turn around to wave goodbye.

Not that you ever did before.

It takes longer than expected for Soobin to actually call you back, but three weeks later you’re running out of Soobin’s apartment in angry tears.

And he’s stuck standing at the bathroom door holding a bottle of water in shock.

All he’d done was tap you on the shoulder to hand you the water, and you slapped him away before dashing out the front door.

He breaks out of his daze and finally shuffles to the door, its gaping wide open.

Soobin’s apartment building was massive, a total of 15 floors with more than 30 rooms each. You could be anywhere, but he ventures down to the garage anyways.

There he finds you crying to yourself as you sit in your car, all in your lonesome.

He watches from a distance for a while as he contemplates whether or not to go and comfort you. But ultimately he feels guilty, because you wouldn’t be crying if it weren’t for him.

Had you never met Soobin, you might be living an entirely different life right now.

You wouldn’t be experiencing constant nausea and pain. You wouldn’t have moved out of your apartment into his.

You wouldn’t be pregnant.

Soobin swallows thickly and sluggishly makes his way back to the elevator. He rides it all the way back to his floor and he quietly reenters his apartment.

The water bottle sits alone on the kitchen counter unopened. He ignores it and sits on his sofa with his head in his hands. The only thing on Soobin’s mind is you.

What were you thinking right now? How could he comfort you, make you feel better? You’ve suffered so much, the least he could do is make the situation a little more bearable.

As Soobin tries to think of an answer, he soon realizes he doesn’t have one because of one simple reason: He doesn’t actually know you.

He has no idea what you like and dislike, how you think, how you like to be comforted. You’re the idol of his affection, the one person who could make him fall to his knees with a single plea, yet you’re also unfamiliar and unwilling. An extreme case of one-sided love.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, but eventually there’s a knock at the front door. Soobin is slow to get up and answer it.

You stare up at him with red eyes and pouty lips. Even when you cried you were pretty, it was baffling.

He steps to the side and you come in, your entire demeanor has shifted to someone who is full of shame. It’s heart wrenching to watch.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You cough out, refusing to make eye contact. You’re focused on the floor, shoulders slumped as your hair hides your face from him. Soobin notices the sleeves of your shirt are still stained with your tears.

Instead of accepting your apology with words, Soobin leans down and tilts your head up to look up at him. There’s something about your flushed face and teary eyes that makes him feel territorial.

He enraptures you into a soft kiss, one that quickly evolves into a kiss of sloppy hunger. He pulls you down the hall and into his bedroom, hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin.

Because Soobin does know one thing about you, and that’s how to make you feel good.

Soobin wakes up to your hair in his face. Your back is pressed against his chest as he has his arms thrown over your figure. His nose is nestled into the crook of your neck, he can hear your gentle snores as he struggles to open his eyes.

He must have not closed his curtains all the way last night, because the morning sun peaks through and shines right into his eye.

WIth a groan, Soobin rolls over and checks the time on his phone. It's 7:37 am. He has a class at 8:10. It takes him 12 minutes to drive to school, 9 on a good day with no traffic. He should probably get out of bed and get dressed so he could leave right about now, but the warm heat of your body underneath his blankets is much too alluring right now.

So instead of getting ready, Soobin decides he can skip a lecture for today and snuggles back into bed with you. He could probably beg Wooyoung later for his notes.

Just as he’s about to fall back asleep you begin to rustle around, conveniently rubbing against him. Your movements actually cause Soobin to hold his breath. His eyes shoot open and he lies beside you frozen.

You calm down and find a comfortable position, but that does nothing for Soobin’s half hard dick poking at your behind.

A part of him wants to wake you up, just so he could indulge in himself, the other knows you’ve also woken up three times in the middle of last night to either pee or puke.

So Soobin decides the best thing to do is to torture himself and stay as still as humanly possible so that you wouldn’t notice, and hopely by the time you wake up for work his morning wood is gone.

But again, things never go as planned.

Soobin is busy trying to distract himself by imagining all of the least attractive things he can think of when he suddenly lets out a strangled moan.

You’re rubbing him. With your hand. You were awake.

“W-Wait,” He hiccups, turning you around so you can face him. You still look sleepy, but you smirk at him nonetheless.

“Should I call out today? Hmm?” You hum, your hand is now fully in his boxers, your thumb running over the head of his cock.

“Fuck yes please,” Soobin exhales as he closes his eyes. He feels you shift, then you tug at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off.

You sit up and stretch your arms before climbing on top of him, sitting atop his hardening cock. Soobin sucks in a breath, God he loves being engulfed in you.

You rock your hips slowly, finding a comfortable rhythm for this lazy morning. You both don’t bother to fully undress, just enjoying the moment together.

He’s so consumed by his own sensual pleasure, Soobin doesn’t realize you had reached over and grabbed your phone from your nightstand until you start to speak.

“Hi, can I speak to the manager?” You ask, slightly out of breath. You’re still on top of him, hips bobbing up and down as you talk to your management on the phone.

“Yeah, I can’t come in today, feeling sick again.” You moan, one of your hands falling onto Soobin’s chest. His heart is beating rapidly, his lust growing by the second.

Your movements slow, making him frustrated. Your attention should be on him. “-have enough hours to co-over!” You gasp as Soobin lifts you slightly, holding you by the hips so he can take control, thrusting into you hungrily.

“I-I’m fine! Just got a really bad cramp.” You lie, glaring at Soobin. He only scoffs, he knows you like it, you wouldn’t be clenching around him like a vice if you didn’t.

You quickly hang up the phone, tossing it to the side. “You sound so hot when you lie, did you know that?” Soobin teases as he lets you resume control.

“Shut up and fuck me already,” You groan. He smirks, proceeding to flip you over so you lay on your back.

You two share a soft and sweet kiss, tongues meshing together as he slowly fucks himself deeper into your cunt.

“Always so needy,” He jokes, but you don’t hear him, basking in the pleasure.

The blank page on his screen is blinding. His cursor blinks at him, waiting for him to begin typing. But the words never come, because how can Soobin even write an essay when all he can’t think about is this morning.

Just hours ago you and Soobin were sitting in the doctor’s office, getting your first ultrasound. The little pea-sized dot in your tummy was his baby.

“Actually,” Your doctor clears her throat. “You’re just far along enough that we can try and see if we can detect the baby’s heartbeat.”

Soobin’s eyes go wide as she moves the transducer around your gelled belly. He’s laser focused on the screen trying to search for the little blob the doctor referred to as your baby.

“Here we are,” Your doctor hums as she slows to a stop. Soobin holds his breath, he doesn’t realise he’s leaning closer to the screen. The entire room is in complete silence, the anticipation has his stomach twisting.

Then, from the scratchy low quality speaker of the computer screen, out bellows a single thump. And then another. And another. It’s fast yet regular, it feels familiar to Soobin.

“Oh my god,�� He whispers, it’s barely audible, but the doctor hears and it makes her chuckle. “Isn’t it unreal?” She asks him, and Soobin can only nod, eyes still stuck on the screen.

He knew you were pregnant, but to hear the baby’s actual heart, it was so- Soobin whips his head around to you.

He doesn’t know what to expect with your reaction, but he never really expected to see you with your eyes closed shut and wearing a frown of discomfort.

And now he’s sitting at his tiny dining room table, trying to focus as he has to write about how minimum wage affects the economic state of the nation and how the problem of poverty can be solved. But how can he when he can’t get the look of pain on your face out of his head?

He’s dazed when you come waltzing in. You changed out of your old outfit into something more comfortable: yoga pants and his sweatshirt.

“I’m going to work, want me to pick up dinner?” You ask, opening the fridge to grab a cup of juice. But Soobin doesn’t answer, his eyes are glazed over. “Soobin?” You ask, still digging through the fridge.

“Soobin, hey!” You snap your fingers in front of his face and he magically comes back to reality.

“Huh? Sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking at him concerned. “Yeah, just tired.” He lies, rubbing the back of his neck. You step back and nod slowly.

“Okay, well did you want me to pick up dinner tonight?” You ask again, and this time he responds.

“Sure, whatever you feel like.” He complies, looking back at his blank screen. You watch him, confused but also curious. He starts to type slowly, but ends up deleting it all. His head ends up in his hands as he struggles to even form a sentence.

“I’m gonna get going, okay? See you later.” You say. Soobin grunts you goodbye, just as you lean over and ruffle his hair. His head shoots up, eyes wide as you giggle to yourself and leave with a mischievous smile.

You shut the front door as you leave and Soobin is left alone, his cursor still blinking against the blank sheet of paper. At this rate he’s never gonna pass his class.

With a sigh he slumps in his seat. He can’t get the image of the ultrasound out of his head.

It’s then that he remembers: the doctor gave you photos of the ultrasound. Last he saw the photos, you were holding them in your hand as he drove you two home. Where did you put it?!

Soobin soon finds himself digging around the bedroom, hoping you hadn’t thrown the photos away or taken them with you. But luckily for him, you’d tucked the strip of photos into the back of your nightstand drawer.

It was slightly bent, but he smoothed it over, his thumb grazing over the familiar little fuzzy white dot in the sea of black.

He makes his way back to the kitchen, holding the photos gently as he sits back down at the table. His document is still blank, but Soobin doesn’t care and he opens a new tab. He begins to type immediately:

What to expect when pregnant?

“So! What was it that you wanted to talk about?”

Soobin finds it hard to breathe at the moment as he squirms in his chair. Sitting across from him, his boss Jung Hoseok smiles unknowingly.

“You know, I’m actually surprised you asked to speak to me personally. You’re a diligent worker Soobin, I’m loving your results.” Hoseok grins as he overlooks a file on his desk. “Keep up the good work and I’m willing to promote you from assistant manager to manager. Maybe even the branch manager!” He chuckles as he tosses the file to the side.

Soobin clears his throat, sitting up straight. “Actually sir, that relates to what-” “Oh come on Soobin! You don’t have to call me that here, we’ve known each other long enough. Call me by my first name.” Hoseok interrupts.

Soobin is sweating. Hoseok’s good mood was making him nervous. “Well, uh, Hoseok. Sir.” His mouth feels numb as he repeats his name, but the other man gets a good laugh out of it.

“I wanted to talk to you about my position actually.” Immediately his boss’ smile falls. The air grows thick and it’s like there’s a loud buzzing noise filling the room.

“What exactly are you telling me Soobin?” Hoseok’s eyes are dark, they scare him. Soobin has to look away, focusing his attention on the wall behind him as he forces the words out of his lips.

“I-I-I’m ex-expecting.” His voice is small, it’s like he’s whimpering. Immediately Soobin’s eyes meet the ground.

For a couple of seconds, no one moves. His head remains slumped, his hands shaking as they rest on his knees. Then his boss adjusts his seat and sighs.

“... Expecting what? Am I missing something here?”

Soobin whips his head up in surprise, he actually raises a brow at Hoseok, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. His boss is equally confused.

“I’m expecting… a baby, Hoseok.” He speaks slowly this time, but by the time he finishes his sentence, Hoseok’s signature smile returns.

“Really?! Oh my, congratulations! And here I thought you were resigning! I would’ve really thrown a fit if you tried leaving haha!” He laughs hysterically, and Soobin finally loosens up.

“Uh, thank you. I just wanted to see if I could request more hours or ask for a promotion of some sort.” Soobin tries to shrug his worries off. “Oh yeah, sure sure. I’ll talk to Seokjin and Yoongi, I’m sure we can figure something out.” Hoseok waves him off.

“Now tell me, when is your baby due? Boy or girl? Do we have any names picked out yet?” Hoseok leaned over his desk as if he wanted to gossip.

If he were being honest, he believed this meeting to go a lot rougher. Hoseok was notorious for being a dedicated and hard worker who pursued professional perfection like a rocket. Soobin half expected to get demoted, or worse, fired.

But there was a spark of excitement in his boss’ eyes that was shocking. It seemed like he had a soft spot for children, lucky for Soobin.

“In August, it’s still too early so we don’t know the gender yet. I’m not sure about any names.” Soobin answers.

“But thank you, really. My partner's been really sick recently. She hasn’t been able to go to school or work much. I don’t want her to worry about our finances right now on top of the baby.” He admits.

Just last week you came home crying angry tears. You confessed your manager decided to reprimand you for all of your call outs by giving your shifts away to other coworkers. “We’ll be okay,” He patted your back as you cried into his shoulder that night. Soobin’s sad attempts to comfort you did nothing to soothe your wails. Hearing your frustrations led him to wanting to do better for you.

Hoseok’s smile softens. “Oh I completely understand. My sister was always tired or in pain when she was pregnant. I tried to be helpful when I visited her. I can’t imagine what your girlfriend is going through.”

Girlfriend. That word makes his cheeks hot.

“Y-Yeah, I really want to relieve her stress in any way I can.” Soobin coughs.

Hoseok suddenly claps his hands. “Well that settles it! I’ll talk to the guys, we’ll get back to you as soon as possible about this.” He smiles as he stands, signaling for Soobin to be on his way as well.

“Thank you sir, I’m really, really grateful.” Soobin tries his best to convey his thanks. “Don’t mention it! Just invite me to the baby shower,” Hoseok winks as he leads Soobin out of his office.

Soobin wasn’t even sure if you wanted a baby shower, given your circumstance, but he nods anyway. “Yes, of course.” He says before turning around to head back to his desk.

“Oh! Soobin!” Hoseok calls out, and he backtracks. “Yes?”

Hoseok pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget to talk to HR and apply for paternity leave, you won’t want to miss out on special quality time with your little one.”

You’re so quiet, Soobin has to gently kick your leg to get you to talk.

“S-Sorry! What was the question?” You stutter, laughing at yourself in embarrassment as you try to smile your pain away.

“What are you going to school for my dear?” Soobin’s mom asks you from across the table. She has a sweet smile on her face as she holds her mug of tea.

As you nervously explain your career path to his parents, Soobin watches intently, sitting next to you.

Today was the day he introduced you to his parents. And tell them about your pregnancy.

If anything, Soobin should be the one who is nervous. His stomach feels like it might collapse on itself, and he can’t stand up properly without gripping onto something for stability.

The entire 30 minute drive was so nerve wracking, that Soobin actually had to pull over and calm himself down for 10 minutes.

He shifts in his seat and makes eye contact with you. You give him a sheepish smile which oddly comforts him. He guessed he liked knowing you were also anxious.

“So remind me again how long you guys have been dating? His last girlfriend lasted 5 months,” His dad jokes, laughing loudly.

Soobin cuts in before his parents can say anything else embarrassing. “Since August, so about two months? Almost three.” He lies. You laugh awkwardly as you nod in agreement.

You and Soobin decided it’d be best to let his parents assume you two were dating. That way they’d feel less awkward about the pregnancy, but also so that they wouldn’t react like your parents, whom you’d visited just two weeks.

You two haven’t exactly figured out what to tell his parents after birth, but he assumed you two would decide eventually.

“Oh that’s so nice! I’m so glad Soobin and you are getting along so well.” His mom smiles and stands up. She pinched Soobin’s cheek, making him whine, before walking to the kitchen.

“Now, who’s hungry? I’ve made some mandu-guk, kimchi, and japchae. I also grilled some meat and made spicy pork!”

She sets the plates of food out, everything looks appetizing. But your face contorts at the strong scents, and you quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Sorry, uh, she really has to pee I guess.” Soobin laughs. His parents stare at him with an unsure expression. “Soobin, you never really bring your girlfriends to visit us. Are you sure this girl is the one? She seems awkward and stiff.” His dad admits.

“I know, just trust me.” He winces. “I mean she barely speaks to us! I don’t know if I can trust my baby with someone who can’t even hold a conversation with your father and I.” His mom sighs.

“She’s just nervous, she’s usually not like this.” Soobin defends you. Hearing his own parents nitpick at you begins to make his blood boil, slowly forgetting his nerves.

“And now she won’t eat your mother’s cooking? Now that’s just plain rude!” His dad exclaims.

Soobin slams a hand on the table, scaring his parents and even himself.

“Sorry sorry, I’m sorry. We wanted to tell you this later, when she’s ready, but I guess we can’t keep hiding it.” Soobin rubs his hands over his face.

“What is it? Soobin?” His mom sounds worried. Fuck. He wishes you were here to help him, but you were probably trying to hide the vomit from your nausea in the bathroom down the hall.

“Don’t tell me you’re in trouble with the law and you’re covering for her.”

“What? No.” Soobin sighs. “Mom, dad. Y/n is pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

The room becomes so silent you can hear the ticking of the clock that hangs in the hallway. And with every tick, Soobin’s heart pounded with fear.

Suddenly he hears a sniffle, and he immediately looks up to find his mom crying. “Mom, please don’t-“

“I’m so happy!” Her voice breaks as her husband leans over to hug her. He gives Soobin the warmest smile. “You’re all grown up, aren’t you?”

Soobin feels his own tears well up in his eyes. He blinks them away, nodding with assurance. “Yeah. I am.”

“You told them?” You step out from the hall looking ashamed and scared. “Mr. and Mrs. Choi, I’m so sorry, I never meant to burden Soobin. I get it if you hate me but please don’t hate him-“

“Y/n, it’s okay.” Soobin smiles at you, and pats your seat for you to sit.

You look confused, almost in denial. “…It’s okay?” You squeak, your eyes looking at him for approval.

“It’s more than okay.” His dad interjects, wiping a tear. “We’re so blessed! Oh my baby is having a baby!” His mother weeps.

You stand still unable to move your eyes from his joyfully woe parents. Soobin has to stand up and guide you back to your seat.

“What’d I tell you? It’s okay.” He whispers into your ear, and you finally relax.

He’s staring. A lot. It’s too obvious for anyone to not notice.

But Soobin can’t find it in him to tear his eyes away from the little stuffed bunny plush stuck in the claw machine. It sat pretty on a little shelf, its light gray fur looked so soft, paired with the plush pink nose, the stuffed animal was unarguably adorable.

Personally, Soobin didn't really care for any plushies. But he knew you did. When you moved in with him, you created a designated spot on the bed for your favorite little bear.

And this stuffed bunny was the perfect companion in Soobin’s eyes. So after staring through the glass for a solid five minutes, he finally fishes out some cash out of his wallet and inserts it into the machine.

It dances alive, corny music playing as lights blinked to the beat. The automated voice instructs him that he has 2 tries to win a prize and cheers him on.

Soobin moves the joy stick around, trying to get the right angles before he hits the button. The claw goes down, and narrowly misses the bunny. He frowns and huffs. This second time he moves the claw a bit to the right. He’s off by a couple centimeters again.

As the claw machine turns off, Soobin quickly pulls out another bill, stuffing it into the machine. It turns on again, repeating the same process. He was determined to win this bunny, even if it meant he’d go broke.

By his 12th try, Soobin is starting to get increasingly frustrated. He’s contemplating sticking his arm through the hole and just snatching the plushy himself.

“Soobin! Dude, we were supposed to meet at the lobby, what the hell?!” Yeonjun shouts as he and the others approach him.

We’re gonna miss our reservation if we don’t leave right now.” Taehyun reminds them. “Okay, just give me a second,” Soobin waves them off as he tries to use his height to see the best angle.

“Okay your second is up, let’s go.” Beomgyu says sarcastically, only to earn a cold glare from Soobin. “Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

He presses the button once more, only to fail another time. He lets out a long and tired grunt, closing his eyes. The bright neon colors of the claw machine were starting to burn his retinas.

“What’re you trying to get? Let me try,” Kai suddenly speaks up, wiggling his way to the front. Soobin concedes, allowing Kai to pay for his own turn. “The bunny.” He mumbles. Kai only nods and in three swift moves him aligns the claw perfectly, catching the stuffed animal in one try.

“Damn, that was smooth as hell,” Beomgyu laughs. Kai pretends to tip a hat before handing the prized bunny plush to Soobin. He swipes it, looking more glum than he did before.

“What? I thought you wanted it?” Kai asks as they all begin to make their way to the restaurant they reserved.

“I did. Thanks I guess.” He mutters. Just like he suspected, the plushy was incredibly soft. He hopes you like it.

“I didn’t know you liked plushies too Soobin, when’d you start collecting?” Kai asks enthusiastically. Soobin looks away embarrassed, stuffing a hand into his pocket. “It’s not for me, it’s for Y/n,”

“Bro you are such a simp.” Beomgyu suddenly guffaws. Soobin doesn’t hesitate to punch him in the arm.

“Fuck off,” He growls. “I’m just trying to be nice.”

“You do know you guys aren’t dating, right?” Taehyun asks, and now Soobin is even more ashamed. “I know we’re not.”

An awkward silence fills the group. Soobin knows they’re all staring, exchanging looks as he walks ahead of them.

So instead of talking about his feelings, he looks at the stuffed bunny, petting its soft fur. He wonders what your reaction will be.

Somehow he pulls himself out of his car and into the elevator, going up to the 5th floor. It was late, Dokyung was probably already asleep. His sister and his brother in law might be too. Maybe he should just go back home.

But the thought of facing you again is more painful as time passes.

You and Soobin have been together for 10 months, almost an entire year together, yet you can’t seem to admit you’re in love with him. He’s in denial, he knows you love him.

But what if you really didn’t?

There were multiple times he could point out where you treated him more like a friend or a brother rather than a partner.

You used him constantly, it was painful.

He steps out of the elevator and makes a beeline to his sister’s door. He raises a hand to knock but hesitates.

Was this right? Was it worth it? Was he making a mistake? Soobin cut his sister off after she exposed his ruse, but in the end she had good intentions. He and you were planning on fooling his parents, especially his mother.

His sister might have been harsh and stern to you, but he also knows that she probably had predicted this exact moment would happen. Her words that freezing night in February were colder than the ice, maybe he should have listened.

Soobin’s hand falls to his side, he’s lost all his confidence.

How could he face his sister? After all the mistakes he’s made since then, she’d only make him feel worse by bragging about how she was right. It would grind his already shattered heart.

He should just go home and talk to you-

The door to the apartment swings open suddenly, and Soobin comes face to face with his sister. She looks frazzled, her hair is thrown into a messy ponytail, she’s still in her pajamas, but she has a jacket on top. She wears slippers, her purse lays over her shoulder.

But the second she realizes it’s Soobin standing in front of her, she lets out a giant sigh. “Oh my God.” Her voice is shaky, and she immediately pulls him into a tight hug. She then pulls away to grab him by the cheeks, checking him for any signs for injuries or mess before hugging him again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” She breaks down, crying into his shoulder. Soobin hugs her back, feeling relief for the first time tonight. But he suddenly pulls away, grabbing his older sister by the shoulders.

“What do you mean you’re glad I’m okay?”

Soobin feels a bit relieved learning you were having a boy. He’s only ever babysat Dokyung a handful of times, and the idea of raising a little girl was frightening to him.

But then he’s reminded that you two were not in fact raising a baby, just growing one.

He didn’t have to worry or think about these things, because they would never come to fruition.

Yet he still fantasizes.

He goes to bed and dreams of taking his son to the park, going shopping together, and playing around the house.

He sees you in every dream too. Sometimes you’re smiling serenely from afar. Others you’re right there next to him, being a mother looks good on you he likes to think.

The only disturbing part of his dreams were the fact that he could never actually see the face of his son. Whether it be blurred or he’d be turning away, it’s as if he can never see his face clearly. It bothered him, he was so curious, what would a baby between you and him look like?

As he turns to your napping figure on the couch. You lay on your side, a throw blanket over your legs as you snore gently. You’re so tired you don’t even realize that the Tv is still on, playing the next episode of the show you were watching.

Soobin quietly pads over to the couch, leaning down to pick up the remote that had fallen to the ground as he turns off the TV.

He kneels beside you, watching as your chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern as you sleep. If he could choose, Soobin would hope that your baby boy would look like you more than him.

Sure, he understood he was above average when it came to looks, and he’s sure you’d probably want your son to have his height, but Soobin would feel more satisfied knowing he could look at his own son and see you in him.

You and your soft eyes and pretty smile. Your soothing voice, your healthy hair. Your smooth skin, your wonderful laughter, all of the above he wishes for.

You suddenly sigh and turn over and Soobin leaps back up to pretend he was never there. You don’t wake though, and he calms down.

You look so comfortable, the thought of joining you was enticing. Falling into his urges, Soobin lifts the blanket and scoots you over to make room for him. Even though half of his body is hanging off the couch, he hugs you close and closes his eyes.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep, you wiggle yourself around to face him. Soobin opens an eye to find you yawning as you blink yourself awake.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” He mumbles. You only grunt and nod, snuggling into him. You go back to sleep, and as Soobin holds you in his arms, he can only imagine what it’d be like to nap with not only you, but your son.

To hear the word “Dad” come out of his son’s own lips seems like a dream far away.

“Still haven’t told me what all this is for,” Soobin groans as he fishes his dick out of his pants, unzipping his jeans and letting them fall down to the floor.

You ignore him, pulling away from his kiss to sit on the bed, legs wide open and waiting for him. You’re uncharacteristically sweet today, wearing a soft smile and adoration filling your eyes.

“You’re being really nice today,” He smirks, throwing off his shirt before laying you down on the mattress. “Is it because it happens to be a certain someone’s birthday?” He plays dumb.

“I know another way we can celebrate you if you insist,” You tease, pushing him away, but he playfully yanks you back towards him. “I’d rather not,” He murmurs against your lips, capturing you into a kiss.

Today was Soobin’s birthday, December 5th, and so far he’d argue this was the best birthday he’s had yet.

This morning you snuck out and bought his favorite pastries from the local bakery down the street for breakfast. When he went to class after you sent him off with a sweet smile and a wave.

After acing his last final exam, he went straight to work, where his coworkers gifted him a mini cake and a signed card, and even sang him a cheesy birthday song. As soon as he was off the clock his friends whisked him away to go get dinner and drinks.

But all day you’ve been sending him the most risque texts: of you begging for his cock, a photo of your bare ass, an audio of you moaning his name as you touch yourself, and lastly an old video of yours where he had recorded you in the mirror as you rode him in his desk chair.

Now it’s late at night, he’s slightly drunk, and you’re wearing the prettiest lacy lingerie set he’s ever laid eyes on, with a wet pussy on full display.

“Happy birthday Soobin,” You whisper as if it’s a secret. He thanks you by stuffing you full of his cock.

Outside the snow falls rather hard than delicately, yet it’s still a beautiful scene to watch from the comfort of his bedroom window.

Soobin yawns. It’s late and practically everyone in the house has retired for the night except for you and him.

Both you and Soobin were spending Christmas with his family this year. He’s just finished laying out the little cot on the ground beside his bed for him to sleep tonight, making it as comfortable as he can. His mother had originally been so worried when she found out you two were going to spend the night.

But Soobin assured her he’d be fine sleeping on the floor for one night, it would have to be done because his twin bed would not fit the both of you, nor would the snow let up enough for him to drive you guys back to the apartment.

Feeling more tired by the second, he sits on his old mattress just as you walk into the room.

There’s something that makes Soobin’s stomach flip as he watches you make yourself comfortable in his childhood room.

You’re fresh from the shower, drying your hair with your towel as you wear an old large pair of sweats and a long sleeve. Both of them were his.

“You might want to hurry if you want hot water,” You warn him, standing in front of his mirror. “The water was getting a little cold as I finished.”

Soobin hates cold showers with a passion, but he doesn’t mind suffering from them if it means he gets to see you like this.

So instead of hurrying to the bathroom, he pats the empty space beside him on his old bed for you to sit. You don’t hesitate to plop down next to him, letting him take the towel from your hands as Soobin begins to gently dry your hair for you.

With your back to him, he thinks your eyes are closed, enjoying the quiet serene moment. That is until you speak up.

“So,” You hum. “When were you going to tell me you have a furry fetish?”

Soobin drops the towel. “What?!”

You raise your hand and point across the room. On his wall was a hung poster of his favorite girl group Kara, the members all posing as each one of them is wearing a variant of animal ears and fuzzy matching gloves.

Soobin physically spins you around to face him, you give him a teasing grin. “I don’t- It’s a poster! I got it for free when I was a kid, leave me alone!” He complains as you begin to laugh.

As he pouts, you stand to hang your wet towel on his old desk chair. “I’m just joking with you, I know,” You chuckle and stand between sulky Soobin’s legs to pull him into a hug. He gratefully does so, resting his head atop your tummy. You run a hand through his hair, the other one rubs small circles into his back.

Soobin closes his eyes and sighs. He loved being close with you like this, a fantasy he wishes he could live in forever.

“Your nephew’s really cute,” You say, but it’s so quiet it’s practically a whisper.

Soobin hums in agreement, eyes still closed as he listens intently to the sounds of your womb and growing son. “He’s funny too, kept poking my belly earlier.” You giggle. He feels the baby kick as you laugh.

There’s a new unique sense of comfort and familiarity as you cradle him.

Soobin cracks his eyes open, taking in the scene: the room he grew up in, lit by the dull yellowing light of his lamp. The quiet hum of the A/C unit blowing warm air throughout the house. Your soft skin and the gentle smell of your santal body wash. It all seems too good to be true.

Your right hand moves from his hand down to cup his chin. You gently guide him to face you, peering up at you like a curious puppy. And to him you’re an angel heaven sent.

“Come on, go shower so we can go to bed.” You say delicately, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes.

Soobin frowns, but stands up anyways. He often forgets how much taller he is compared to you. He doesn’t exactly keep a record of it. But he towers over you, your head tilted up to look at him curiously.

His hand comes up to caress your cheek and he leans down to kiss you.

It’s unlike any other kiss you two have shared, where sex is usually involved and made of raw lust. This kiss was innocent, full of endearment and vulnerability. A simple kiss to convey his true feelings.

You kiss him back with the same vehemence and Soobin feels hopeful.

In January you seem happier, even though you spend your days going to work and doing nothing all day. You barely passed this last semester, all thanks to Soobin’s help, but with your pregnancy progressing you decided to take a break and skip out of qthis upcoming term.

Soobin notices your new relaxed state quite quickly.

“Uh, whatcha doing there?” He tries to hold his laughter in as he walks up behind the couch.

You don’t move from your spot, eyes focused on the TV. You spoon yourself another bite of your ice cream, not even paying attention to him. “Eating ice cream,” You say monotonously.

He watches you with amusement, leaning over to observe you closer.

You’re slouched down, a fluffy blanket laid tucked on top of you, and your bowl of Ben & Jerry’s sits not in your lap, but rests right on top of your bulging belly. Your hands rest on your sides when you’re not feeding yourself.

The image of you using your own stomach as your own personal table was incredibly entertaining to Soobin, so much so that he pulls out his phone and snaps a photo.

You hear the click of his camera and actually turn around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Soobin giggles to himself as he looks at the photo, his hand covering his childlike grin.

“What? Did you take a picture of me? Why?” You ask, holding the bowl in your hand now as you try to lean over to get a look.

Soobin’s laughter slowly dies down, and he ruffles your hair before showing you the photo. You scoff, pouting even as you realize why he’s been giggling at you. “It’s not funny,” You pretend to be upset, but he can see through you.

He hops over the couch to sit next to you, snuggling into your side. “Oh but it is,” He teases. You roll your eyes and sigh, returning your bowl back to its spot on your tummy.

“Want a bite?” You ask, offering him a spoon. He opens his mouth and allows you to feed him. “This is good, holy shit.” He’s astonished, having never actually had a bite of your favorite ice cream.

“I told you!” You laugh. “Want some more?” You spoon him another bite, which he graciously eats.

“As long as you feed me.” He continues to joke. You pretend to scorn him, wagging a finger in his face as if to lecture him.

“You’re playing dirty.” You hum. His grin widens. “I thought you liked me better when I played dirty.” He retaliates, smirking at you.

Instead of fighting back like he thought you would, you sigh and sit up, pushing him off you.

“Come on Soobin, don’t act like you’re my boyfriend, we aren’t dating.” You say in a joking tone as you walk to the kitchen.

He stays stunned on the couch, smile fallen and body limp.

Soobin watches with pure adoration as you are sat on the ground, legs splayed out as his nephew shows you every single one of his toy dinosaurs he has in his room.

Dokyung’s current obsession was dinosaurs, and the young boy was happily yapping to you about the many figures he’d brought from his toy box. You’re sitting beside him, listening to every little thing he has to say, nodding along and even asking questions.

You and Soobin have come to visit his sister and her family, a request from Dokyung after he enjoyed your company at Christmas. You didn’t mind seeing his nephew, as you found him amusing. In fact you liked him a lot.

The two of you are busy reenacting a dino fight when Soobin’s sister taps his shoulder.

“Hey can we talk?” She asks, already leading him to her bedroom. “Uh, what’s up?” He asks nervously, hanging by the door as his sister settles atop her mattress.

“Nothing, just wondering why you never told me you were expecting?” She hides her irritation behind a stiff smile.

Soobin knew this would happen. He’d been anticipating it all day. All week actually. He’s been mentally preparing for this moment that he’s already got his responses memorized.

“It was a surprise, really.” He recites. “Neither of us were really expecting for this to happen.” He shrugs.

“But I want to be there for her, She’s already going through a lot with the changes of her body, it’s the least I could do.” His sister nods as she listens.

“How chivalrous of you.” She chuckles. “But raising a kid is hard, there’s so many things you have to consider before deciding to have a baby.”

“I’m worried Soobin, you’re both so young and still in school. Mom and dad are excited but they aren’t gonna always be able to help. They’re getting old too, you know.”

Soobin feels guilty as his sister speaks. If only she knew what you planned to do after birth, none of these were a concern of yours for that exact reason.

“You’re going to have to make a lot of sacrifices, I know my husband and I did with Dokyung, but we’re grown adults with stable jobs. You and Y/n should have thought about this more.”

Soobin’s heart grows heavier with each word. The concern in his sister’s voice is killing him inside. This woman practically helped raise him. Him and his siblings have a large age gap, his sister being 10 years older than him. She would take Soobin with her on errands, babysit him every summer break, feed him meals when his parents were working late.

Does he have the heart to hide the truth from her?

“Soobin, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I promise. I just want you to make the right decision. Okay?” She looks at him with earnest eyes and he just nods.

His sister stands, walks over to him and gives him a hug. “You know you can always come to me for help, right? I’m here for you.”

She pulls away and gives him a soft smile. Soobin can’t dare to look at her and lie. So he swallows thickly, lips thin.

“Sis, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The drive to the hospital is unbearingly slow despite the fact that Soobin was driving 20 kms past the speed limit.

“Slow down,” His sister hisses, she’s gripping the door handle stiffly. But Soobin ignores her and speeds up.

In fact, he doesn’t even hear his sister and her warnings of him being pulled over or causing a crash. Instead all he can hear is your name. Over and over and over again, he can hear your name, see your face, feel your touch. It’s fleeting and that scares him.

Upon entering his sister’s apartment, Soobin was quickly informed that you had suddenly gone into labor and could not contact him. You called his mother and let her know that Soobin was missing and that you were going to the hospital. His mother contacted his sister who was just about to go out and search for Soobin, just to find him standing at her doorway.

And now Soobin is zooming to the hospital, his body is moving on his own without any control.

Everything was his fault. He shouldn’t have left, he shouldn’t have yelled at you, he shouldn’t have made you cry. Soobin felt guilty beyond belief. His tears begin to flow, and suddenly he’s blind, he can’t see.

“SOOBIN STOP! BRAKE! BRAKE!!” His sister is slapping his arm as she screams, and he instinctively hits the brakes, stopping centimeters from the car in front of him. The car lurches to a stop. Soobin’s knuckles are white as they are wrapped around the wheel, but they’re shaking.

“Get out.” His sister’s voice is coarse yet quiet. He doesn’t move, still breathing heavy as he tries to calm his heart. “Soobin, get out.” She’s stern this time, unbuckling herself and his own seatbelt. She steps out and runs around the car and opens his door, practically dragging him out of the front seat.

“Go sit in the passenger,” She instructs, and he nervously follows her directions. His sister now sits in the driver’s seat and continues the drive.

Soobin sits lifelessly in the other seat, tears silently flowing down his face as he tries to fight his own emotions before it’s too late.

Soobin looks around the empty apartment. Since you’ve moved in, it feels more like a home now. Before you lived with him, Soobin’s apartment was plain, he only had the necessities, with barely any decor.

But the second you stepped inside you changed everything, with your houseplants, copious amounts of throw blankets and pillows on his couch, and your need for a candle to be found in every room.

He likes how your clothes filled the empty gap in his closet. He likes how your skincare and makeup litter the bathroom counter next to his toothbrush. He likes how you hung up frames and posters on his bare walls.

He likes you. And you like him back too. At least he thought so.

Yesterday was Valentine’s Day.

Soobin bought you flowers, chocolates, reserved your favorite restaurant for dinner, and gifted you the purse you’ve been eyeing online for the past month. He never asked for anything in return, because just being with you was a gift enough for him. He couldn’t care less about gifts, he just loved spending time with you.

But when you saw all of this, all that he did for you, you looked at him confused.

“Thank you, these are beautiful,” You smile as you hold the flowers and glance at the purse.

“But Soobin,” You have to look away as you put the flowers in a vase. “Isn’t Valentine’s Day for couples? We aren’t dating.”

Those words from last night lead him to his question now: What was he to you?

Your actions and words never matched up, and Soobin was constantly filled with confusion.

One day he acts as your boyfriend, your lover, your husband if you will. And the others he was a stranger. You treated him like he was expendable.

You two weren’t a couple, this was something you constantly insisted on, but neither of you can’t seem to pull away from each other no matter how hard you try. This awkward stage of will-you-won’t-you was frustrating to him.

The only thing was that Soobin was a bit of a coward. He’s always struggled to express his true feelings, and with you it’s even harder when he has what feels like his entire life on the line.

Sometimes when he’s alone, his brain reminds him of the consequences of his actions- more like the consequences of his inaction. With his inability to convey to you his own desires, you walk all over him like a rug.

But Soobin knows deep down you do care for him.

He can tell with the way you look at him, how your eyes always soften when he’s in view. You speak to him with such a sweet tone, even when you’re unhappy.

He notices the little things you do, like how you called his mom a week before his birthday to learn how to cook his favorite meal. Or whenever he’d come home late from work you’d stay up to help him get ready for bed.

That time he went out with the guys for Yeonjun’s birthday, and he got so drunk that you had to pick him up from the club. You held his hand the entire drive home and tucked him into bed with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to see him in the morning.

You might not outright say it, but you like Soobin. Your actions scream louder than any word.

He just wants you to be happy, and if that means he has to suck it up and let you ruin him for your own dignity, he’d do it, absolutely.

The sound of the front door opening has him sitting up, his senses high alert. You were finally home.

Yesterday after you had rejected his gifts, you unexpectedly spent the night at Minjeong’s. You claimed it was because she was feeling extra lonely since Valentine’s Day would have been her anniversary with her ex, but Soobin knows better than that.

You open the door and immediately you two make eye contact, faces frozen in fear.

“Hi,” You choke out, hurrying to lock the door and take your shoes off. “Hey,” Soobin stands up, awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You purse your lips and drop your bag onto the dining table, almost waiting for him to speak first. He doesn’t want to, but he does.

“How was Minjeong?” He asks, voice dry. “She’s holding up alright,” You clear your throat. He nods though you don’t see as you busy yourself in the kitchen.

“So, um, I was thinking we need-” “Hey Soobin,” You interrupt him. He looks up and sees you staring right back at him.

“I-” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry about how I reacted yesterday, You were just being nice, and I see that now. Thank you, really, for the gifts.” You smile at him, but it’s not genuine.

“It’s nothing,” He lies through his teeth and returns your smile. You sigh and look relieved. As you disappear into the bedroom, Soobin remains standing in the middle of the apartment, just as confused as before.

You’re staring so hard at the couch, Soobin is starting to think you’re trying to mentally set it on fire or something.

“No, it’s too long, and the color is too light and I don’t like the material.” You decide and shake your head. He scoffs, and follows you as you walk down the aisle to the next one.

Currently, he was stuck inside of an Ikea with you, in search of a new couch. And you were taking it very seriously.

The only thing was that his old one was completely fine, it was a little beat up from the last couple of years of wear and tear, but it was still sturdy.

But he needed to get you out of the house, and what better way than making up a fake excuse to go out and furniture shop?

After Seollal at his family’s house, you’ve been depressed, and for good reason. His sister’s forced confession damaged not only his reputation, but your mental health. To Soobin that was not acceptable.

You already struggled with your own family, he’s seen it with his own eyes how broken you become when your parents disowned you.

Not to mention your recent mental breakdown at 2 am. You’d woken up in tears, sobbing so hard he was afraid you’d break.

He refused to see you hurt like that again, so he was going to use everything in his power to make you feel better.

“What about that one?” He drags you to a different showroom, this one was a stark difference from the fake and moody one you two were just at. It’s bright with pops of color coming from the house plants and window drapes.

But you frown, shaking your head as you watch Soobin sit on the neon blue sofa. “No, that thing looks so uncomfortable. And it’s way too small, your legs barely fit.”

Soobin gets up and sighs, following you as you examine each and every showroom with the eyes of a hawk. You guys barely arrived 30 minutes ago, but he was already wanting to go home.

“How about that one? It’s kind of nice.” He suggests, pointing to an earthy green mid century modern sofa.

“The color isn’t cute, I want something practical.” You argue, already onto the next showroom.

He doesn’t even know why he’s trying to help when you already have a vision. But seeing you act all serious has him worked up. He liked it when you were direct and stern, it turned him on.

“Oh what about this! This is cute! And it’ll fit in the living room.” You plot yourself onto a beige loveseat, sinking into the cushions.

“Whatever you want.” He smiles, enjoying your interests. You pat the seat beside you and he sits down, leaning all the way back.

“Not bad, right?” You look at him expectantly. “It’s kind of stiff, but we just have to break it in.”

He turns to you and smiles, you looked like you were actually enjoying yourself for once.

“Come on, let’s go to the next one, maybe we should get a sectional!” You stand up and pull him with you, leading him to another room.

One by one you try out each couch, not fully satisfied.

“This is the last one, “ Soobin warns. “Just sit,” You roll your eyes and the two of you sit side by side. This sofa was dark gray in color, three seats with a chaise lounge included, and extra soft.

“Woah, it’s like sitting in cotton candy.” You sigh. “I don’t want to get up, this is bad.” Soobin nods in agreement. You close your eyes and lean against him.

“I think this is the one. I could nap here all day.” You yawn. “Are you sure it’s not just because you’re tired?” He teases. You pinch his side, making him giggle.

I want this one. Maybe a lighter shade of gray if they have it,” You add. Soobin hums, too lazy to find the tag right at this moment to keep note of which sofa to buy.

Right now, here with you was perfect. Even if you guys were in a crowded furniture store with hundreds of other people who were busy shopping.

He couldn’t care less where you two were, it could be in the middle of nowhere, a haunted house, a busy freeway. Soobin would go anywhere for you.

As long as he’s got you, everything will be okay.

Soobin thought that when you got pregnant, your lust would die down.

It did not. In fact it was amplified.

“We can’t do this here, I’m at work.” He tries to push you off him, but you’re persistent, kissing up and down his neck.

“We’re at a work party, you're off the clock, and no one is here. We’re alone.” You insist, rubbing his hard on through his pants. “You like it don’t you? You like it when I let you fuck me anytime anywhere.” You mock him.

It was true, while he lived the comfort of having sex at home, he can’t forget the adrenaline you give him when you two are out and about.

But fucking inside of conference room where just a few feet away all of his coworkers are socializing and could potentially hear or catch you two? That was a bit terrifying.

“Please? Fuck I’m so horny,” You whine, already unbuttoning his shirt. “You look so good I can’t help it.”

This is news to Soobin. The theme for this year’s annual work celebration was Blast from the Past! so he’d gone and worn a denim on denim look: a denim button up paired with a random tie and jeans. His hair was down and messy, and he’s been eating barbecue chips for the past half hour straight.

“What?” He has to laugh, thinking you’ve gone crazy. But you don’t relent and continuing to unbuckle his pants and shoving your hand down his boxers.

He’s ashamed to admit he’s already half hard the second you pulled him into the empty room. Now your soft hands are massaging his erect cock like it’s your job, kissing up and down his exposed chest.

You’re getting on his nerves. You always act like a brat when he’s under pressure.

So he removes you from him, earning a grin from you as he pushes you against the table, seating you so that your legs are wide open for him.

“You never listen,” He scowls, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties to the side. “I’ll listen now,” You blink up at him innocently. You begin to play with yourself in order to relieve the tension, head rolling back.

Soobin slaps your hand away, grabbing your wrist and pinning you down. “Liar, you always like to test me, don’t you?” He doesn't let you answer as he quickly lines his cock to your seeping hole, sliding in without warning.

You let out a sensual moan, fully laying down on the table now. Your free hand pulls down the top half of your dress to reveal your plump and aching tits. You look like you’re fresh from a painting.

“Why aren’t you moving?” You groan, trying to grind yourself against him. Soobin stands there taking you in with a smirk plastered all over his face. He sees how your face begins to turn red as he refuses to look away from you.

He finally leans down, grabs you by the jaw and whispers, “Always a slut for my cock, aren’t you?”

You gasp and clench around him. He can’t take it anymore. Without warning he begins to thrust into you like a piston, fast, swift and hard. You can’t control your moans, you’re breathing heavily as he holds both of your wrists in one single hand above your head.

The other hand quickly goes to cover your lips. “Be quiet, want someone to find us?” Soobin growls into your ear. He’s barely holding on himself as he mocks you.

“You want my boss to come in here and see you all fucked out on my dick, yeah baby?” He threatens and you can only bite your tongue. “Don’t worry baby, no one but me gets to see you like this,”

“All hot and wet for me and me only, right?” You nod desperately and he removes his hand from your mouth. “You love my cock so much you just had to have my baby, didn’t you?” His hand goes to rub your swollen stomach, before traveling down to your clit.

“F-Fuck!” You squeak out as he simultaneously plays with your clit and pumps you full. “God you’re so fucking tight, I-I’m gonna cum,” His tough act begins to crumble as he struggles to chase his own high.

“Want me to cum in you baby? Or you wanna drink it up like a good girl?” He brushes a lock of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek.

“Don’t pull out I’m so close,” You cry, hands searching for him. You were always pretty, but seeing you beg for him was something else. Soobin can’t help but kiss you, ramming into you with so much intensity and vulgarness he completely forgets where you two are.

You cum in seconds, he follows you with insane speed, the way you convulse around him has him falling through the cracks. You’re both breathless and tired, but your lips stay connected.

Eventually he peels himself off you, pulling his softening dick out of your warmth. Both of you are sticky and wet, sweating like you’ve run a marathon. But his eyes are trained on your pussy as his cum leaks out, thick and white.

Unconsciously he sticks a finger into your sore hole, pushing it back in. You wince, catching your breath. “Soobin-”

He shuts you up by sticking that same finger into your mouth. “I don’t want to waste a drop.”

“Beomgyu! Get your ass over here and help me with this banner!” Jimin orders, she spots Beomgyu hiding behind a tree. The man sulks as he’s been found, trudging over to the canopy.

“I never signed up for this! I just came to drop off the catering” He whines, but Jimin doesn’t care, handing him the banner to hang.

“Can you shut up? At least you’re not lugging around the damn table!” Yeonjun yells. He’s currently dragging the folding table all over the patio area, under orders from Ningning.

“More to the left- no my left! No go back, more to the right now- your right!” She tells him and he obediently listens, though he seems tired.

“Hi! We picked up the cupcakes!” Minjeong sings as she and Aeri arrive, though they’re not carrying a thing. “Uh, where?” Soobin asks, confused.

“Here! We offered to help,” Taehyun announces as he and Kai waltz over to the canopy, carrying the boxes of cupcakes. “Low sugar with whipped cream frosting,” Aeri recites as she and Minjeong begin to organize the food on another table.

“We need chairs! Where are the chairs? Beomgyu you were supposed to bring the chairs!” Jimin glares. “I would grab the chairs, but I’m holding your stupid banner!” He argues.

“Go get the chairs! Ugh, Kai, help me with the banner, you’re taller.” She waves off Beomgyu.

“Well, looks like the baby shower planning is going well,” Soobin jokes as Yeonjun approaches, finally free from Ningning’s grasp.

“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there, do something!” He complains. “Nope, I’m gonna go pick up Y/n’s dress and drop it off, then I’ve got to grab the drinks and ice.” Soobin states.

“Save me!” Beomgyu sobs, only for Jimin to glare at him again. “Hurry up! We need more chairs!”

“Actually, I can grab the dress, Minjeong and I are gonna leave to go do Y/n’s hair and makeup anyways,” Aeri checks the time. “But you can take Beomgyu with you, I think Jimin might burst a vein if she has to be with him for another minute.” Minjeong whispers.

Soobin sends her a thumbs up and pulls his best friend away from starting a spat with Jimin. “Let’s go grab the drinks! We’ll be back.” Soobin waves a goodbye.

“Turn on the A/C, I’m melting,” Beomgyu groans as he jumps into the passenger seat. The cool air hits his face, refreshing the pair.

“So, why are you guys throwing a baby shower again? I thought you guys were gonna chuck the baby or something?” Beomgyu asks. Soobin punches his arm, making him cry.

“We are not chucking the baby, we’re just giving the baby up for adoption for the time being.” He corrects.

Beomgyu looks confused. “For the time being? You mean you plan to get custody later?” Soobin goes quiet.

If he were being honest, he might be a bit attached already to your unborn son. He hasn’t said anything, but he can’t bear to even think about signing the adoption papers.

“No,” He sighs. “I just- I might just ask for full custody if Y/n says no.” He admits. Beomgyu’s eyes bulge out of his head. “So you’re saying you’d become a single dad?!”

Soobin slowly nods. The idea was daunting, but he believes he could do it. He knows his mom will help, they’ve spoken a few times privately since Seollal. He considered moving back home to make his life a bit easier if it came down to it.

“Soobin, you can’t be serious, this isn’t some kind of game you can speedrun. This is a real human being that you’re gonna have to raise for 18 years-” “I know Beomgyu,” Soobin says tensely.

“But you don’t get it.” He clenches his jaw. “You won’t get it until you’re in that room, and the doctor shows you the ultrasound and you get to see your baby grow- did you know you can hear their heartbeat?!” Soobin stops at the red light, looking over his best friend with desperation in his eyes.

“I can’t get the sound out of my head.” He reveals. Beomgyu goes silent.

“And what about Y/n? You said you’d do anything for her, right?”

Soobin continues the drive, eyes trained on the road. “Yeah, but maybe not this time.”

The car is quiet again, the radio so low it’s a whisper. Beomgyu suddenly lets out a howl, his head leaning against the glass window.

“You’re insane,” He mumbles. “But you’re also my best friend. So if you’re really going to go through with this, I’ll be there.”

Soobin smiles. “Thanks Beomgyu, I appreciate it.” The other man just nods, looking out the window.

“Just so you know, I’ll help out but I am not changing any poop diapers. Give those all to Yeonjun.” Soobin begins to laugh, feeling relieved from his friend’s support.

He waits until you’re asleep. Outside on the balcony, the air is cool and there’s a slight breeze. It’s way past midnight and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open as he presses the call button. It rings five times before his mom picks up.

“Hello?” She sounds like he’s just woken up. ‘Hey mom, sorry, did I wake you?” He worries.

“Huh? No, no, I’m fine,” She lies. “How are you? Did you eat today?” She asks. “Yeah, yeah,” He answers.

They go through the formalities, checking on each other’s health, asking about their days and such. But eventually, as the night goes on, the topic changes to something more serious.

“And how is the baby?” Soobin goes stiff. “Fine, the doctor says he’s healthy.” He hears his mom hum on the other line.

Silence.

“Are you still going to give up my grandbaby?”

He hates this question.

“Soobin, are you listening to me?” She repeats and he fights the urge to yawn, losing as he leans against the railing of his balcony. “I’m listening.” He assures her.

His mother sighs, mumbling something under her breath. “You do know what you’re doing right? That baby deserves to be with his dad and mom.”

“No yeah, I know,” He hums. This was the fifth time they’ve had this conversation in the last two months.

“I know that you and Y/n are struggling, but that’s why your father and I are here. We love you Soobin, and we love Y/n too, please don’t do this.”

He closes his eyes, making a face. “Don’t say that.” He urges. “But why? You two are so good together. You love her, why can’t you two make this work for your son? Put your differences aside! Couples have differences and fight all the time, you two need to learn to compromise.”

Maybe it was because it was late and he was extremely tired, or maybe it was because he hated the way his mom talked about his relationship with you like she knew better. But either way Soobin snaps.

“Y/n and I- We- stop acting as if we’re dating mom, you know we aren’t.” He sighs and rubs his face. “You can stop pretending.” The line is quiet, and he wonders if he should just say goodnight and end the call.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something from inside move. “Hold on,” He murmurs. “I think Y/n’s up.” He immediately mutes the call, tip toeing inside. He makes his way to the bedroom, from the door he sees you cuddled up with the blanket. Your back faces him.

“No she’s still asleep,” He says into the phone as he unmutes the call. As he turns to leave, he shuts the door. He doesn’t want you to hear any of this.

“Soobin, I just want what’s best for you,” His mother finally says. “How do you know this is good for me? For all you know, I could be digging my own grave,” He argues, stepping back outside onto the balcony.

He hears his mom shuffle, then hum. “Well, I see how you are with her, and my son, you glow.” His heart aches as he hears her speak with such sincerity. “You look at each other with love, and now you can share that love with your baby. You two just need to sit down and talk.”

“I-”

Soobin sucks in a breath. He can’t speak. He can’t respond, argue. Because he wants his mother to be right, he desperately does. Just the idea of living that fantasy of growing a family with you was enough to bring him to his knees.

He’s tried so hard to get you to like him back, so hard to break down your walls. He just wants to be able to love you openly. No more lies and secrets.

The only thing stopping him is you.

“I’m gonna go to bed mom,” He bites his cheek, holding back. “Okay,” he can hear the tone of his mom. She’s disappointed. He hears that more often these days.

“I’ll talk to you next time, okay?” They bid farewell and instead of going back to bed with you and sleeping his stress away, Soobin goes to the living room and sits on the couch.

The one you picked out and he built.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep there until the early morning when the sun blinds him. Quietly he slips back into the bedroom and into the mattress next to you.

Just like last night, your lonely back faces him.

“Y/N!” Soobin bursts into your hospital room looking like he’s run through hell and back. He scares you awake, Beomgyu jumping up from his spot on the waiting chair.

“You made it! Thank God,” Beomgyu looks more relieved than Soobin. “I was starting to get worried, they said I would have to go into the room with her when it was time to push,” He gags. “Thanks,” Soobin pats him on the back as Beomyu slips out of the room as soon as possible.

His attention turns to you.

You’re sitting on the hospital bed, wearing your gown and hair in a mess. Just like him your tears have dried up on your face, leaving streaks.

He hesitates.

His body wants to move, his legs are screaming at him to run to you, pull you into a hug, kiss your face and promise to never leave you alone again.

But his brain stops him. Just hours ago you’d rejected him and broken his heart into a million pieces.

You suddenly start sniffling, and his body reacts automatically, coming to your side. He can’t bring himself to hold you just yet, so he settled by petting your hair as you cry.

“I’m sorry,” He begins to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I should have- I was being stupid and I-” He shuts up when you lurch forward and hug his waist, sobbing into his shirt.

He finally relaxes and leans over to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling you closer. “I’m an idiot I know,” He murmurs and kisses your head. “Please forgive me,”

You can’t even answer him properly, you're crying so hard your body is shaking violently. So instead he just holds you, holds like you're made of glass until you fall back asleep from the pure exhaustion this entire night has been.

Soobin lays you back down, wiping your tears from your cheeks.

You didn’t deserve him. He was a jerk, and he could never forgive himself for what he’s done to you. He was selfish for trying to force you to pursue him, for feeding into his own desires. If only he could go back in time.

Quietly, he attempts to leave you to rest on the little stiff loveseat by the window. Except the grip tightens around his hand. He looks up to find you awake again.

“You should try to rest, you’ll need the energy.” He tells you, though he doesn’t move.

You shake your head, confusing him. But suddenly you scoot over, and gesture for him to lay with you. Soobin is surprised. After everything tonight, you still want him around.

Feeling guilty, he struggles to squeeze in without hurting you. But once he’s next to you, you snuggle into his side, your head resting on his chest. He holds you dearly, his other hand playing with your fingers as if to distract himself.

“You were right, you know,” You suddenly speak up, breaking the comfortable silence. Soobin quirks an eyebrow, confused on what you were talking about.

You shift so that you could face him.

Even with your tired eyes, tear stained cheeks and pouty lips, your beauty amazes him. He feels lucky just to have made eye contact with you.

“I love you,” You whisper, as if you were scared to speak up. “What?” He mumbles, unable to believe you.

“I love you Soobin,” You repeat. “I… I’ve been lying to myself, to you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’m sorry.” You look away, feeling ashamed. Your tears return and he does you a favor by gently guiding you to look at him again.

Delicately, Soobin kisses you. His heart begins to bloom as you two become intertwined. This was all he could ever want, and you’ve finally gifted him his greatest award: your love.

“Do you hate me?” You ask in between kisses. He smirks. “How could I ever hate you baby?” He teases, kissing your salty tears away. “Because I’m such an asshole, and you always treat me so well,” You hiccup.

His lips return to yours as a way to reassure you. “I love you so much. There’s nothing you could do that could make me hate you.”

You shudder under his touch, pulling him by his collar, trying to get closer. Your anguish has him pulling away faster than you or he wants.

“You need to rest,” He insists, despite the fact that he’d rather kiss you for longer. But he can see and tell you’re exhausted. He can sacrifice his affections for the time being.

“Don’t go.” You pout. “I’m not going anywhere, never again.” He promises, fixing the pillows to make the both of you more comfortable.

He watches as you yawn, your sleepiness consuming you. Just before you fall asleep though, he whispers in your ear.

“Can you say it again?”

You glance at him, eyebrows furrowed. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck and sigh. “I love you Soobin,” You mumble into his soft skin.

And his heart soars, he’d been waiting to hear those words all along.

“I spend nine- almost ten months carrying him in my womb, and he comes out looking just like you,” You frown. “It’s like I’ve been scammed.”

“He’s got your uh, your eyebrows I think? Baby it’s okay, look how cute he is,” Soobin giggles as he sits beside your hospital bed, carrying your sleeping son. He’s been in the outside world for a total of three hours, yet he’s the cutest baby ever.

“Eunjae, you’re gonna be handsome just like your daddy, huh?” You lean over to gently boop the baby’s nose.

“Eunjae? When did you pick a name?” Soobin asks, you two had never really talked about names ever. “He picked it himself,” You shrug.

Soobin is even more confused now. “What do you mean he picked it himself, Y/n he’s three hours old.”

Before you can answer, there’s a knock on your door. “Hi mom and dad! How are we doing?” The nurse asks as he comes in holding what seems to be paperwork.

“Good so far.” Soobin answers. “Great! I’ve actually got some documents for you guys to sign, as well as the birth certificate,”

He hands you the papers, and you read over them. As you flip through the documents, you stop at a specific one.

“Um actually, we aren’t going to be needing this one anymore,” You hand the nurse the paper, he reads it over. “Sounds good, I’ll come back later once everything is filled. Let one of us know if you have any questions.” He says as he departs.

“What was it that you gave back?” Soobin asks. You’re already signing some papers as you speak. “The adoption papers.” You don’t look at him, but Soobin is smiling.

You finally look up at him and smile back, this one was real and filled with pure love.

“We can’t give up on this little guy, he’s too adorable,” You coo as you poke your son’s cheek. The baby squirms in his arms before resuming his sleep.

Soobin watches as you fill out the birth certificate, there’s a weird sense of pride he feels as you complete the documents.

“You know I like the name, Eunjae.” He agrees. “Well you better like it, I already wrote it down on the certificate with permanent marker,” You joke, making him chuckle. He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple.

“I love you,” You say. He smiles at you. “You’ve told me that like 150 times since last night.” He pretends to complain.

“And I never get tired of saying it.” You grin, sealing your vow with a kiss. And for Soobin, he never gets tired of hearing those three words, patiently waiting for the next time they slip from your lips.

He’d wait for you tomorrow, the next day, a week from now, a month, a year, a decade, a century and for eternity.

445 notes · View notes

missmadella · 4 months ago

Text

His Jacket, His Girl, His Forever (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: It started with a game. Just you and Emma rating the boys of Toman during a shrine meeting, giggling about who’s hottest and who gives the best hugs. You didn’t expect Mikey to overhear. And you definitely didn’t expect him to throw his jacket over your shoulders like a claim of territory.

Words: 12280

Warnings: Soft possessiveness, clingy Mikey, a few kisses that might steal your heart, and Emma being the best wingwoman.

You met Mikey because he stole your sandwich.

Not in a cool, movie-style theft where your eyes locked across a bustling convenience store or something. No. He just walked up, took one look at your lunch, and said:

"That looks better than mine."

Then he picked it up and took a bite.

It was a Tuesday.

You blinked at him, absolutely stunned. “Excuse me?”

He blinked back, still chewing. “You gonna eat the rest?”

You were standing outside the corner store you always stopped at after class. You didn’t know who he was — not yet — just that he was barefoot for some reason and wearing a school uniform that didn’t match any of the local schools. His face was too pretty for his attitude.

You stared at him. “Did you just rob me?”

Mikey grinned. “Technically, no. You’re still holding it.”

You looked down at your half-eaten sandwich. Then back at him.

“…Are you high?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, hands on his hips like he’d done nothing wrong. “Just hungry.”

You could’ve slapped him. You really could have. But then he tilted his head, sunlight hitting his eyes just right, and he smiled like someone who’d gotten away with worse.

“…You’re insane,” you muttered.

He beamed. “You’re fun. I’m Mikey.”

You didn’t give him your name. Not at first. But that didn’t stop him from showing up the next day.

And the next.

Turns out, Mikey was a bit of a legend — whether you wanted to hear it or not.

“Manjiro Sano,” Emma said when you finally brought it up. “Leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

You nearly dropped your drink. “That’s Mikey?!”

She gave you a look. “You’ve been hanging out with him for two weeks and didn’t know?”

“To be fair,” you said, thinking of how he kept showing up barefoot to random convenience stores, “he doesn’t exactly scream ‘dangerous gang leader.’”

Emma raised a brow. “Tell that to the people he’s kicked unconscious.”

“…Right.”

But it was too late by then. You’d already kind of liked him.

Because Mikey wasn’t what you expected. Sure, he was unpredictable. Occasionally terrifying. Once made direct eye contact with you while eating an entire chocolate bar without chewing.

But he also made you laugh — a lot. He had the worst jokes. The best timing. He asked questions no one else thought to ask, like:

“Do you think ghosts get bored of haunting the same place?”

Or, your personal favorite:

“If I name a goldfish ‘Shinichiro,’ is that disrespectful or kind of sweet?”

Sometimes he said nothing at all. Just showed up, walked beside you, and shared whatever snack he was carrying — even if it was only one bite. (Sometimes especially if it was only one bite.)

And over time, you noticed things.

Like how he always waited for everyone else to eat before he touched his food. Or how his eyes drifted toward the sky when the conversation got too serious, like he was trying not to remember something.

He was strange. And reckless. And a little broken.

But he made you feel seen. And more importantly — he made you feel safe.

You didn’t know when you started holding his hand without thinking. Or when he stopped pretending you were just a friend.

But one night, when you handed him a sandwich without saying anything, he looked at it, then at you, and smiled that same dumb smile from the first day.

“…You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” you said, nudging him in the ribs. “But if you steal mine again, I’m breaking your legs.”

Mikey laughed — a real, unfiltered laugh — and leaned in close.

“Too late,” he whispered, stealing a bite anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been a few weeks since Mikey had started hanging around you, and things between the two of you had definitely shifted. What started as random encounters — him stealing your food, offering random deep (and often nonsensical) questions, or showing up when you least expected it — turned into something more natural. He’d walk you home, sit next to you at the corner store, and always, always drag you to random places just because he felt like it.

But today, everything changed.

You were walking out of school, talking with Emma about the usual nonsense, when you noticed a guy from your class standing awkwardly near the gate. He was fiddling with his sleeves and looking like he was trying to work up the courage to speak.

You barely had time to process when he finally blurted out, “Hey, uh... I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Would you maybe... wanna go get coffee sometime?”

You blinked. “Um, sure...”

He grinned like he’d just won a prize. “Awesome! How about tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, the sound of roaring engines interrupted the moment. You turned, and there he was — Mikey, effortlessly gliding in on his bike, the wind ruffling his already messy hair as he slowed down in front of you. His eyes locked onto the guy immediately.

“Hey,” Mikey called out, his tone lazy but with a hard edge. The guy visibly tensed.

You watched in mild confusion as Mikey hopped off his bike, walked up to you, and stood way too close for comfort — his shoulder brushing yours like he owned the space between you. “You talkin’ to my girl?” he asked, his eyes flashing toward the guy with that signature smug smile.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Mikey’s sudden arrival and the intense, almost possessive vibe radiating off him. “Uh, I—”

“No need to answer,” Mikey cut him off, already turning to you with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, yeah?”

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the situation. “Mikey, what are you doing?”

“Claiming what’s mine.” He winked at you, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’m picking you up every day now from today, by the way. It’s a Mikey thing.”

The guy looked between you two, clearly out of his depth, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, okay, well... I guess I’ll... see you around?”

You sighed, stepping back as Mikey leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder like he was too comfortable. “Nope,” Mikey called after the guy, giving him a half-hearted wave before turning his attention back to you. “Now, where were we?”

You were still caught off guard. “What just happened?”

Mikey let out a lazy laugh and nudged your shoulder with his. “Nothing much. Just making sure no one else thinks they can steal you away.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You’re mine.”

“Wait, really?” You were still trying to catch up, blinking at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You were already mine the second you handed me your sandwich. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He grinned at you. “So... how about it? I’ll walk you home, and then I can take you somewhere nice.”

You tried to suppress your smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it.”

With that, Mikey draped his arm around you and practically dragged you off, leaving the guy standing there, completely forgotten.

And from that day on, you had Mikey’s attention — a lot of it. In his own unique, clingy way, he was all yours.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was almost sunset when the low rumble of engines echoed through the quiet neighborhood, signaling the approach of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

You were already at Musashi Shrine, standing just off the path with Emma. The air smelled like burnt gasoline and cedarwood. Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on the backs of the approaching riders like something out of a movie.

“Look at them,” Emma said with a smirk, nudging your shoulder. “All dramatic and cool.”

“They’re just boys in matching jackets,” you replied, but even you knew it wasn’t true. There was something magnetic about the way they moved together — a reckless kind of unity.

The boys began filing up the steps toward the meeting spot, lining up in their usual formation. You saw Baji throw a punch at someone for a reason only he understood, and Mitsuya adjusting someone’s collar with tired precision.

And then — like clockwork — he found you.

Mikey didn’t walk. He drifted. One second, he was in front of the captains; the next, he was beside you, arms lazily draped over your shoulders like he was trying to become part of your outfit.

“There you are,” he said, like you were the one who’d been missing.

You blinked. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“I know.” He leaned closer, tugging you back a step until your back bumped his chest. “But it feels longer when I’m not touching you.”

Emma made a choking noise beside you. “Oh my god.”

You ignored her and tilted your head. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro,” he corrected softly, so close to your ear it sent a little shiver down your neck.

You turned to glance at him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. His eyes were half-lidded, that familiar sleepy look — but there was a flicker of something more focused underneath.

“…Manjiro,” you said carefully, testing the sound of it.

His smirk deepened.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a quick, stupidly soft kiss to your lips — right there in front of the whole damn world.

Not rough. Not teasing. Just gentle, quick, and unmistakably his.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He pulled back barely an inch, still close enough that his forehead nearly touched yours. “That’s better,” he murmured.

Emma wheezed. “I’m right here, you two!”

You shoved at his chest, your face suddenly way too warm. “Seriously?! Right before your big gangster meeting?!”

Mikey grinned. “Gives me good luck.”

“You’re gonna make them think I’m distracting you.”

“You are distracting,” he said, absolutely unbothered.

“Manjiro—!”

He kissed your cheek this time, slow and lingering. “Mmh. Say it again.”

“Stop being weird!” you hissed, trying to push him off — but he just hung on tighter, like a very smug, very clingy sloth.

“I like when you call me that,” he said, finally loosening his grip. “Only you, though. Everyone else sounds like a teacher.”

He finally stepped back, his fingers trailing from your hand like he didn’t quite want to let go yet. “Stay where I can see you, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Gonna get jealous if someone makes eye contact with me?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the captains, completely casual — as if he hadn’t just publicly kissed his girlfriend like it was a holy ritual.

Emma leaned in with wide eyes. “So. How does it feel being claimed like territory?”

You smacked her arm. “Shut up.”

__________________________________________________________________________

The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over the shrine grounds as the Tokyo Manji Gang settled into their usual positions. Mikey, ever the casual leader, was already at the center, chatting with Draken and the other captains. The air around them was tense, full of gang business that you really didn’t want to hear about.

You and Emma were sitting off to the side, legs dangling from the stone platform as you watched the boys talk shop. You could barely make out the words — something about territory and rival gangs — but honestly, the topic wasn’t new. It was the same stuff they always talked about.

Mikey, however, had a different agenda.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself, when you felt the familiar weight of his jacket being draped over your shoulders. You froze, glancing up just in time to see him flash a lazy grin at you from across the group.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, blinking at him.

“Making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” Mikey replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against a tree. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Mikey’s “possessive” side had always been cheeky, but something about his calm expression and the weight of his jacket made it feel more real this time.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He winked. “What? You’re my girl. I gotta make sure they all know.”

Emma, who was sitting next to you, let out a dramatic sigh. “Mikey’s so whipped. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Emma,” you whispered, nudging her with your elbow, but she was already grinning from ear to ear.

Mikey overheard and grinned back at her, giving a half-shrug. “I’m not whipped. I’m just... protective.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Mikey was unpredictable, a wild mix of playful and possessive, but you liked it. You liked him.

As the conversation droned on, you felt your attention starting to wander. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Toman’s plans, but right now, it was just a bunch of boys talking in circles about turf wars and rival gangs. You glanced at Emma, who was already bored out of her mind.

“What do you think?” you whispered. “Want to play the game again?”

Emma grinned mischievously. “I’m so in. But let’s make it more interesting.”

You glanced at Mikey, who was still fully engaged in the meeting, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on Baji as he ranted about something. He didn’t notice the playful glint in your eye. Perfect.

“Alright, let’s do it. First question, who’s the most dramatic in Toman?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

Emma grinned mischievously. “Baji. No contest.”

You couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, he’s always throwing tantrums like he’s the main character in a soap opera.”

You glanced at Mikey again. He was still oblivious, but you could feel him shifting a little closer to you. That clinginess of his was getting real obvious.

“And... who’s the most secretly emotional?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t going for anything too serious, just something fun to see how she’d respond.

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Draken. He’s always trying to hide it, but you know the guy’s a softie.”

You looked over at Draken, who was standing with his arms folded, looking like the stoic rock of the group. “Hmm, you’re right. You can tell he’s got a heart of gold hidden under all that tough guy exterior.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma continued. “Now... who’s the most likely to cry during a movie?”

You glanced at Mikey, who was fiddling with his phone, sitting back on the stone steps like he owned the place. Without missing a beat, you answered, “Mikey.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really?”

You shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he watches a movie? He gets emotional over the smallest things.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You leaned in closer, trying to stifle your laugh. “Alright, next one — who’s the worst cook in Toman?”

This time, Emma didn’t hesitate. “Mikey. He can’t even make toast without burning it.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “He once tried to make instant ramen, and the kitchen smelled like smoke for hours.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, laughing quietly. “He’s definitely not winning any cooking awards. I bet he doesn’t even know how to make eggs.”

You glanced over at Mikey just as he casually draped his arm over your shoulder again, pulling you closer like he was very aware of what you were talking about. “What are you two gossiping about over here?”

You gave him your most innocent look. “Oh, nothing. Just discussing your many... talents.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed playfully, his lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

You winked at him. “You’re really bad at cooking.”

He feigned shock, but his grin grew. “I can cook just fine, thank you very much. But, I guess if you don’t like my cooking, I’ll just have to feed you from now on.”

“Oh? You’re volunteering?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Of course. I’m a man of many talents.” He leaned in a little closer. “You’re gonna love my cooking... or my effort at it.”

Emma stifled a laugh and glanced at you. “I love how he thinks he’s so charming.”

You smirked. “He’s adorable, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to roast him when it comes to the kitchen.”

Mikey gave you a playful nudge, pretending to be offended. “I’m taking this jacket back, then. No more claiming you in front of everyone.”

“Try it, and I’ll keep it,” you shot back, leaning into him.

Mikey’s eyes flicked over to the group briefly, sensing that the meeting was winding down, and then whispered, “I’m not done yet. You can’t escape me.”

You laughed quietly, shifting your focus back to Emma, who was trying to contain her giggles.

“Alright, last question,” you said, winking at Emma. “Who’s most likely to start a fight over something stupid?”

Emma didn’t think twice. “Mikey. Hands down. He’d fight someone for the last piece of candy.”

You blinked at her. “Wait... really?”

Emma shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he's hangry?”

You felt Mikey’s grip tighten on your shoulder, a sly grin forming on his face as he overheard the conversation.

“That’s not true,” he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss your temple, his voice suddenly low and teasing. “I’d never fight for candy.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Oh really?”

He winked at you, voice still soft. “Okay, maybe for candy. Or, you know, you. I’d fight anyone for you.”

Before you could retort, the meeting was starting to wrap up, and Mikey shot one last smug look at the gang. He seemed far more interested in you than anything going on in the meeting.

“Guess we’re done here, huh?” Mikey said, standing up and pulling you with him. “Time to take my girl home.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m pretty sure you’re the reason the meeting’s done.”

You laughed as Mikey gave Emma a playful, unbothered grin. “She’s right. You’re welcome.”

You snatched up his jacket and stood up, wrapping it around yourself like a shield from the cold. “And here I thought you were the dramatic one.”

Mikey winked, slinging an arm around you as you both made your way down the stairs. “Who else would do it better?”

Emma shook her head but smiled. “You two are impossible.”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning up at Mikey. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had finally wrapped up, the last bit of gang business taken care of. Mikey, as always, had been the first to disengage, already bouncing on his heels and ready to drag you away. His arm was still comfortably draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his jacket, which was now wrapped snugly around you.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, teasing him. He hadn’t even asked you where you wanted to go — it was as if the choice was already made for you.

“Wherever I want, obviously,” Mikey replied, giving you a cheeky grin. “I’m the leader, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on your face. Mikey was so Mikey — goofy, possessive, and absolutely confident. It was hard not to laugh at his antics.

Emma caught up with you both, waving you off with a grin. “I’ll see you two later. Don’t kill each other over lunch or something.”

“You’re welcome to join us!” Mikey called after her, but Emma just laughed and shook her head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Enjoy fighting over where to eat.”

You shot Emma a quick look, mouthing “Thanks for the backup” as she walked off, leaving you with Mikey. He was already pulling you in a direction that you couldn’t quite place.

“So, where are we really going?” you asked, a little more curious now.

Mikey just shrugged, leading you through the streets with that same carefree attitude. “Wherever. I don’t know. As long as you’re with me, I’m good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at him sideways. “You really are impossible.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Impossible? I prefer the term ‘unpredictably fun.’”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Mikey didn’t let up, pulling you into a nearby cafe. It was one of those quiet little places tucked away from the hustle and bustle. He always seemed to know the best spots. Mikey led you straight to the counter, practically ordering for you without asking. The staff knew him by name — of course they did — and they didn’t even bat an eye at his antics.

When you got your food, Mikey insisted on sitting beside you in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. He draped his arm around the back of your chair like he was marking his territory, then casually placed his drink next to yours, making sure it was as close as humanly possible.

You glanced at him, half amused and half exhausted from his clinginess. “Mikey, really?”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if nothing was unusual. “You’re my girl. I gotta be close.”

You shook your head, but it was impossible to stay mad at him. Even though his possessiveness was overwhelming, it was... endearing. In his own Mikey way, he really cared.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but let the conversation wander back to the game you and Emma had played earlier. Mikey had been half-listening to your banter with Emma, but now he seemed to be picking up on the teasing.

“So, I’m the most dramatic and the worst cook, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing. “I’m hurt.”

You smirked, giving him a sideways glance. “You know, you could’ve at least tried to cook for me.”

Mikey shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “I’d burn the kitchen down. You’re lucky I just buy you food instead.”

“Well, if you can’t cook, then what is your talent, Mikey?” you teased.

His grin grew wider. “Everything.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “But my real talent is making you happy.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” Mikey replied, his voice a soft hum. He raised his glass and made a toast with you. “But you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You clinked your glass against his, the light reflecting off the surface as you smiled. “Maybe not.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. It was one of those moments where everything felt right — where Mikey’s energy wasn’t overwhelming, just... comforting.

After a few minutes, Mikey suddenly leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, next round of the game. Who’s the most ridiculous in Toman?”

You smirked, already knowing the answer. “You, obviously.”

Mikey sat up straight, his expression mock-hurt. “Me? Ridiculous? I’ll have you know I’m a pillar of wisdom and sophistication.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re like a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

He grinned widely. “Exactly. And you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Mikey had a way of making his chaos seem so charming.

The conversation shifted, and Mikey got more playful, asking questions about who could really take him down in a fight, who would survive a zombie apocalypse, and even who in Toman had the worst fashion sense (to which Mikey had been quick to answer, “Definitely me, because I’m too stylish to even handle.”)

But by the end of the day, as the sun began to set, Mikey had you laughing and smiling in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

His clinginess, his silly personality, and his never-ending ability to make you the center of his world — it was impossible not to fall for him even harder.

“So,” Mikey said as you both strolled back toward the familiar streets of your neighborhood, “about that date... I’m taking you out again soon. No excuses.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not letting me say no, are you?”

“Never,” Mikey replied, his voice full of conviction. “You’re mine.”

With that, you laughed, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you again. “I guess I am.”

And just like that, Mikey claimed you, not just with his words, but with his laughter, his quirky charm, and that clingy little streak of his that made him impossible to resist.

___________________________________________________________________________

The moonlight bled through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft silver. Everything was still — the house, the street, the city. Except for Mikey.

He couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes the quiet felt too loud in his head, and he’d lie there with his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking about things he didn’t really like to think about.

But tonight was different. You were there. Curled up in his bed with one of his pillows half-hugged and his gang jacket still wrapped around your shoulders.

He hadn’t meant for you to fall asleep in it. You’d just been hanging around after the shrine meeting, teasing him about his bad cooking and trying to steal the last rice cracker. You’d both ended up watching some old anime on his laptop, but while he was talking at full speed, you’d started nodding off.

Now, the only sound in the room was your quiet breathing.

Mikey turned on his side and watched you for a minute. The jacket looked huge on you — sleeves long enough to cover your hands, the collar a bit too wide, but it was warm and soft and unmistakably his.

A lazy smile crept onto his face.

“You look good in my jacket, y’know that?” he whispered, even though you probably weren’t awake. “Too good, actually. Kinda makes me wanna put another one on you. Just to be sure people really get the message.”

You stirred slightly, murmuring something sleepy and unintelligible, pulling the jacket closer around yourself like a blanket.

Mikey reached out, gently brushing some hair away from your face, voice even softer now. “You’re dangerous, [Name]. You make me soft.”

There wasn’t a trace of teasing in his tone now — just something quieter, more real.

“I could fight a hundred guys with a smile on my face, but the second you look at me like that, I forget how to act.”

His hand hovered near yours, not quite touching, just... close.

“You make this world feel like it’s not so heavy sometimes.”

You shifted again, eyes fluttering open for just a second. “...Manjiro?”

Mikey froze for a second, then leaned in a little with a lopsided smile. “Hey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You blinked slowly, voice drowsy and muffled. “You’re staring.”

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

You gave him a sleepy look. “...You’re weird.”

Mikey laughed softly under his breath. “Takes one to love one.”

You smiled faintly, eyes already drifting closed again. “You’re clingy...”

“And you like it,” he replied, smug.

Before you could argue, Mikey leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then one to your lips — soft and careful, as if even half-asleep, you were something precious.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll stay up and guard you from the nightmares.”

You mumbled something about “being dramatic,” but Mikey just smiled and pulled the blanket up around your shoulders, letting you melt back into rest with his jacket wrapped tight around you — the clearest mark that you were his.

And in that quiet room, under the weight of moonlight and his own feelings, Mikey finally let himself breathe a little easier.

___________________________________________________________________________

You felt the shift in the bed before you even opened your eyes.

Mikey had moved. Not far, just enough for you to feel the absence of his warmth next to you. The room was still wrapped in shadows, the sky outside that deep pre-dawn blue that only appeared when the world was holding its breath between night and morning.

You mumbled into your pillow. “Manjiro?”

“Right here,” he answered softly from the edge of the bed, where he was lacing up his boots — already dressed in that half-wrinkled, “I woke up like this” biker look he pulled off way too easily.

You yawned and rolled over slowly, still wrapped in his jacket like a cocoon. “Why are you up? It’s not even light out.”

He turned his head slightly, gave you that small smile — the one that looked like he knew something you didn’t. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

He stood up, walked over to your side, crouching by the bed so he was level with your sleepy face. His hair was a little messy, eyes warm but bright with something restless.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just you and me. City’s empty this early. You’ll like it.”

You snorted, burying your face into his jacket collar. “You know I was planning to skip school today anyway…”

Mikey grinned like that was exactly the answer he’d expected. “So, that’s a yes?”

You let out a long breath, then dragged yourself upright, hair tousled, eyes still a little heavy. “Yeah, okay. Just let me brush my teeth so you don’t crash the bike from second-hand sleep breath.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek before you shuffled toward the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting behind him on his bike, arms wrapped around his waist, the wind already picking up even though the sun hadn’t risen yet. The city was dead quiet, the roads almost too open — like it all belonged to the two of you.

You pressed your cheek against his back, still a little drowsy but content.

“You sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to keep me all to yourself?” you asked over the hum of the engine.

Mikey didn’t turn his head, but you could hear the grin in his voice. “Absolutely.”

You chuckled, holding on a little tighter. “Figures.”

As the wind rushed past you and the horizon slowly turned from deep blue to gold, Mikey sped up just a little — not recklessly, but enough to make your heart lift.

The city may have been asleep, but you weren’t.

Not with him.

And in that moment, wrapped in his jacket, hands on his ribs, heartbeat steady against your own — it felt like nothing could touch the two of you.

___________________________________________________________________________

The roar of the engine softened as Mikey finally slowed, pulling the bike to a stop near the edge of the wide riverbank. The sun was just beginning to rise, streaks of orange and pale gold bleeding across the sky like watercolors. The city was still far off in the distance, quiet and untouched.

You blinked against the light, stretching as you climbed off the bike, your fingers brushing against his back for balance.

“Where…?” you started to ask, but Mikey just glanced over his shoulder and gave you a half-smile.

“My favorite spot,” he said. “No one really comes out here. ‘Cept Draken sometimes, but he sleeps more than you do.”

You scoffed. “I don’t sleep that much.”

“You slept through me putting your shoes on,” he deadpanned, clearly amused. “Like a toddler.”

You glared at him, but your sleepy pout only made him grin wider. “Okay, fair.”

The river shimmered under the rising sun, its slow current gliding past with a peaceful rhythm. It wasn’t flashy — just still water, a crumbling concrete ledge, and an old vending machine nearby. But the moment you took a breath and let the quiet sink in, you understood.

There was something healing about it. It felt like time slowed down here.

Mikey sat down on the ledge and patted the space beside him. “C’mere.”

You dropped beside him, pulling his jacket tighter around your frame as the breeze picked up. He was still watching the water, eyes distant but soft.

“This is where I come when everything gets too loud,” he said after a long moment. “Gang stuff, family stuff… even my own thoughts sometimes. Out here, it’s just quiet. Real quiet.”

You nodded, not needing to say anything. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was grounding.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You ever get that too? Just wanna… vanish for a bit?”

You smiled faintly. “All the time. That’s why I said yes to this, even half-asleep.”

He chuckled. “Guess we both needed it, huh?”

Another silence settled in — comfortable, easy — until Mikey turned to face you completely.

“You really do look good in my jacket,” he murmured again, but this time with more meaning behind it. “Like you belong in it. Like you belong with me.”

You tilted your head. “That a confession, Manjiro?”

He grinned. “No, that was a statement. The confession happened when I stole that kiss back at the school.”

You laughed under your breath. “Right. Forgot how bold you are.”

“I’m just honest,” he said, eyes never leaving yours now. “I want you in my life. Every day. In my jacket, on my bike, next to me at meetings — all of it. So yeah, maybe I’m clingy. But I’ve already decided.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and touched. “Decided what?”

He leaned in just a little, voice low but firm. “That you’re mine.”

There it was again — Mikey’s bluntness. He never said things halfway. But his voice carried something steadier now. No joke, no teasing — just truth.

You looked at him for a moment, heart a little full, then gently rested your head on his shoulder.

“Took you long enough to say it like that,” you whispered.

Mikey let out a soft breath of a laugh, his arm coming around your waist. “Yeah, yeah. I get there eventually.”

You stayed like that for a while, watching the sun rise over the water, wrapped in his warmth, the silence holding you both in place. And even though the world would get loud again — school, gang drama, real life — this moment was yours.

Just you and Mikey, where it was quiet.

Where everything made sense.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were both quiet again, the sun now fully risen and casting a warm, golden glow across the water. Mikey’s arm was still lazily draped around your waist, and your head rested lightly against his shoulder. It was one of those rare, slow mornings where the whole world seemed to hush just for you two.

Then, softly—almost like it slipped out—Mikey murmured, “I wanna marry you someday.”

You blinked, lifting your head slightly to see if he was joking. But he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was still fixed on the water, eyes unreadable for a second. There was no smirk, no laugh waiting behind his lips. Just quiet certainty.

“I mean it,” he continued, a little softer now. “Not right away or anything. Just… I’ve never really thought about the future like that. Not until you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. He didn’t say things like this often — not without a joke in his tone, not without that cheeky grin. But now he was just... honest. Serious in a way that made your breath catch.

You looked down for a second, cheeks flushing with warmth you couldn’t hide even if you wanted to. Then you smiled, wide and real, and reached for his hand.

“I can’t wait for that,” you whispered, eyes shining. “You, me, someday? That sounds perfect.”

Mikey finally looked at you then — and he beamed. Like he’d just won the world’s biggest prize. He kissed your hand, then stood up and offered his, the jacket falling perfectly into place over your shoulders again.

“Come on,” he said, that teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. “Let’s get breakfast. Or whatever meal it is when you skip school before it even starts.”

You laughed, taking his hand. “Sounds like a plan, fiancé.”

His grin? Dangerous.

“You better not say that around Draken. He’ll faint.”

___________________________________________________________________________

You were walking back through a narrow side street, heading toward a place Mikey swore had the “best melonpan in Tokyo,” when you turned a corner and—

“Oi,” a rough voice called out. “That jacket…”

You both paused.

A small group of older teens — four, maybe five guys — loitered near the vending machines, all wearing mismatched leather and chains. They weren’t Toman. Not even close.

One of them, clearly the leader, stepped forward with a sneer.

“That’s the Tokyo Manji Gang’s uniform, isn’t it?” he said, looking straight at you. “Don’t tell me they’ve got little girlfriends doing their laundry now.”

Mikey didn’t flinch. But he did step just slightly to the side, like he was getting ready to put himself between you and them.

You placed a hand lightly on his arm.

“I got this,” you said calmly.

He blinked. “What?”

You shrugged off his jacket slowly, folded it once, and handed it to him. Then you stepped forward, cracking your knuckles.

The leader scoffed. “What the hell are you—?”

You moved before he could finish the sentence — ducking low, sweeping his legs out with a sharp, practiced kick. He hit the ground with a surprised grunt, and before the others could even react, you’d already dropped two more with precise, fluid strikes.

Mikey stood there — wide-eyed, holding his own jacket — watching as you took out the last guy with a clean elbow to the gut and a twist that sent him sprawling.

You brushed your hands off casually, turned, and walked back to him like it was nothing.

“Sorry,�� you said, slipping his jacket back on, still a little breathless. “Didn’t wanna get it dirty.”

Mikey stared at you.

Then blinked.

Then grinned — slow and completely floored.

“…Okay,” he said, sounding slightly dazed. “That was… hot.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand again. “Come on, melonpan, remember?”

He followed you wordlessly for a moment, then muttered under his breath, “I have to marry you.”

You just smiled to yourself, tugging him along.

___________________________________________________________________________

The smell of warm melonpan filled the air as you and Mikey sat down at a small, nearly-empty café just outside the neighborhood. The place had a cozy, nostalgic feel — the kind of place that wasn’t flashy, just serving good food. Mikey slouched a little in his seat, looking content, but there was still something in his eyes — a curiosity that hadn’t left since the moment you’d knocked out those guys in the alley.

You sipped your drink, watching him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Mikey leaned forward, his eyes wide with genuine interest. “You really didn’t even break a sweat. And it wasn’t like you were messing around either. You took ‘em down like… you’ve done it a thousand times.”

You bit your lip, setting your cup down. “I’ve had my share of… situations. You know, self-defense stuff.”

He nodded slowly, his face softening. “Yeah, but... why didn’t you tell me?”

You smiled a little, leaning back in your chair. “I guess I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Important?” Mikey leaned in, voice getting a little more intense. “You kicked their asses! You’re not just some random girl in my life, [Name]. You’re, well, you’re my girl and I… don’t like people messing with you.”

You felt your heart flutter a bit at the possessiveness in his voice. Even if it came across a bit bluntly, you knew it came from a good place.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” you teased, “But I’ll keep the really big fights for you.”

Mikey paused for a moment, his eyes softening, and he grinned. “I’m still amazed. Like… that was amazing. Seriously, I wasn’t even expecting that.”

You laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also proud of your skills. “You never asked, Mikey. You just assumed I couldn’t take care of myself.”

He pouted for a second, clearly teasing. “Well, I’m a little slow sometimes.”

“Just a little?” You raised an eyebrow, and Mikey burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, a lot. But still, that was so cool,” he said, still looking at you in awe. “I gotta say, I like knowing you’ve got my back, even when I don’t see it coming.”

“Well,” you smiled softly, “we’re in this together. Always.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The shrine was the usual spot for Toman meetings — surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the stone steps and the rising mist from the morning dew. The gang was already gathering, sitting on the steps and the edge of the stone platforms, awaiting Mikey’s arrival.

The air was cool, the distant sound of city life buzzing in the background, but at this time of morning, the world felt quiet. Almost serene, in a way.

You had arrived with Mikey, still wearing his jacket, your presence drawing a few curious glances from the gang as you approached.

Mikey seemed unbothered by it. If anything, he was grinning, his arm slung casually over your shoulder. His pride was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell he was practically bursting to share what had happened earlier.

“Alright, alright,” Mikey began as you both reached the group, a playful edge to his voice. “So, before we get into anything important… I gotta say something.”

Draken, sitting at the top of the stairs, shot Mikey a look. “What now?”

“I’ve gotta introduce you guys to the best fighter in the gang.” Mikey’s grin was mischievous. “The one who wiped the floor with five random punks today. [Name].”

There was a beat of silence before everyone burst out into laughter. Takemichi, ever the worried one, was the first to speak.

“You’re joking, right? There’s no way—”

Mikey’s grin only widened. “No joke. She took them down like she was born for it.”

The others turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal, guys. Just some guys talking crap.”

Draken, not one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re telling me you just knocked out five guys?”

You shrugged, feeling the nervous tension of all their stares. “I’ve had some training, that’s all.”

Emma, who had tagged along after your girls’ trip, chuckled as she leaned against a nearby pillar. “She’s being modest.”

“Self-defense, huh?” Mitsuya asked, clearly intrigued, eyeing you with a mix of respect and curiosity. “That’s impressive.”

You gave a slight nod. “Yeah, well, I’ve had to learn a few things. Just in case.”

The air shifted slightly — more respect, more admiration — and even Draken gave you an approving nod. “Guess we’ve got a real badass on our hands.”

Mikey, still standing next to you, looked absolutely thrilled. His eyes sparkled as he turned to the group. “You guys know how I like my gang, right? Strong, loyal, but also…” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “...Not afraid to kick some ass. And now we’ve got a legit fighter on our side.”

The boys seemed impressed, and as the conversation moved forward, Mikey’s pride never seemed to wane. He kept leaning closer to you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow or stealing a glance at you, like he couldn’t stop showing off his girl.

It wasn’t long before Mikey finally sat down, pulling you onto the step beside him.

The gang had fallen into their usual chatter, but Mikey’s attention was still on you, his fingers lightly brushing against your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’ve really been riding the high from this, huh?”

Mikey grinned, looking almost like a kid on Christmas. “You’re my girl. Of course I’m proud.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was warm from his excitement. “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Mikey said, his voice low but with that familiar cheekiness. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Before you could respond, Draken walked over, looking between you both with that big, knowing grin on his face.

“Alright, Mikey,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got your fighter. Now we just gotta keep her from running the whole damn gang, huh?”

The others, who had gathered near the steps, started chuckling.

Mikey just smirked, his eyes never leaving you. “Nah. She’s just gonna make sure no one messes with us.”

You shot Mikey a playful look. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Mikey said, squeezing your hand gently.

___________________________________________________________________________

As the meeting began to progress, more questions started popping up. The group was still buzzing about your fight. You hadn’t expected this kind of attention, but it was fun to see everyone’s reactions.

“Alright, but seriously, what kind of training are we talking about here?” Takemichi asked, leaning in as if trying to figure out your secret. “You can’t just become that good overnight.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Boxing, some martial arts… a little bit of everything. Just wanted to make sure I can protect myself.”

Emma, always the one with a mischievous edge, nudged you with a smile. “You know, Mikey’s a little territorial, huh? Think he’ll keep the boys in line for you?”

“Stop it, Emma,” Mikey grumbled, though his eyes were still twinkling as he shot a look at you. “I don’t need to keep anyone in line. Not when she’s got it handled.”

Draken just shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are something else. Never thought I’d see Mikey all proud of his girl like this.”

Mikey puffed out his chest, not in arrogance but in pure pride. “She’s not just any girl. She’s my girl.”

The entire group seemed to settle into a comfortable quiet, respect mingling with that familiar teasing atmosphere. Mikey wasn’t just proud of you for your strength. It was everything you were — the way you fit into Toman, how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic world, yet still stood out. And Mikey? He was absolutely, unapologetically in love with that.

You leaned into his shoulder, letting the peaceful quiet settle around you again.

"Guess we're all in this together now," you murmured, a slight grin tugging at your lips.

"Always," Mikey said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now, let’s get this meeting over with.

__________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had officially fallen apart.

It started small — just you and Emma whispering to each other at the edge of the group while Draken tried his best to keep the meeting serious. But then you laughed. Loud enough that heads turned.

That’s when Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, lounging beside you but already suspicious.

Emma leaned over, hand cupped around her mouth. “We’re playing ‘Toman Superlatives.’”

“...What?”

You grinned. “It’s like… ‘who would survive a zombie apocalypse,’ or ‘who has main character energy.’ That kinda thing.”

“You’re doing this during my meeting?”

“It’s Draken’s meeting,” Emma corrected.

Draken, overhearing, raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want it either.”

“Carry on,” Mikey said, waving a hand like a bored emperor — but leaning closer like he very much wanted to hear your answers.

Emma smirked. “Okay, okay—next one. Who’s most likely to cry at a sad movie?”

You pointed. “Takemichi.”

“WHY ME?!” Takemichi shouted from the sidelines.

Everyone nodded.

“Okay but true,” Chifuyu said, patting his back. “You cried at Spirited Away, bro.”

“It was emotional!” Takemichi protested.

Emma grinned. “Alright, who gives the best hugs?”

You tapped your chin, eyes flicking across the group. “Draken. He’s tall and warm. I feel like he smells nice.”

Draken blinked. “...Thanks?”

Mikey’s head whipped toward you. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t smell like anything, Mikey,” you said sweetly.

“I smell like power and mystery,” he deadpanned.

“Power and mystery smells like gasoline and melon bread,” you teased.

The gang cackled. Even Draken cracked a smile.

Emma was dying, holding onto your arm. “Okay, okay—this one’s good. Who would be the most dramatic if their crush didn’t text back right away?”

Everyone pointed at Mikey.

He looked personally offended. “ME?! I don’t even text! I show up.”

“Exactly,” you said. “You showed up at my classroom window once because I didn’t answer.”

“You left me on read,” he said defensively.

“It was five minutes, Mikey.”

“Too long.”

More laughter rippled through the gang, and for once, even Mitsuya chuckled behind his usual calm smile.

Emma leaned in again, eyes twinkling. “Who’s most likely to flirt without realizing it?”

“Smiley,” you and Emma said in sync.

“He absolutely knows what he’s doing,” Mitsuya added. “He just pretends he doesn’t.”

Smiley raised his hands innocently. “I’m charming. It’s a problem.”

Mikey leaned toward you again. “Okay, your turn. Who would you call first if you were in trouble?”

You paused.

The teasing faded for just a second. You looked at Mikey — the way he was watching you, clearly waiting for the answer.

Your smile softened. “You.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“You’d be there in a second,” you said. “No questions asked. No matter what.”

The silence that followed was warm. No one teased. No one joked.

Mikey’s expression relaxed, his cheeky energy softening just enough to let the affection shine through.

“Damn right,” he said quietly, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his jacket up on you again. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

Emma leaned against you, smiling. “Okay, but you still didn’t pick him for hottest.”

“I am the hottest,” Mikey muttered.

“Still Mitsuya,” you said under your breath.

“I heard that!”

The boys laughed again, and you nestled into Mikey’s side, his arm curling around your waist like it was second nature.

The meeting may have started serious, but this — these moments, with jokes, teasing, and your fingers brushing against his — this was what family felt like in Toman.

And you were finally, completely part of it.

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting finally broke apart, boys peeling off in pairs, loud voices fading into the evening air as they headed toward their bikes. You and Mikey lingered behind, walking down the long stone steps with his hand loosely curled around your wrist.

He hadn’t said much since the game ended.

That should’ve been your first clue.

You glanced at him — he wasn’t pouting exactly, but his mouth was pressed in that little line it made when he was pretending something didn’t bother him. His eyes were fixed ahead, lashes low, but you could feel the shift in energy like static.

“…You good?”

“Yep.”

Liar.

You stepped in front of him, halting him just before the last step. “You’re mad I didn’t say you were the hottest, aren’t you?”

He looked away with exaggerated disinterest. “I said I’m fine.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Manjirō.”

He finally looked at you — pout fully formed now. “I’m your boyfriend and you said Mitsuya.”

You tried not to smile. “Because Mitsuya is handsome.”

“Yeah, but I’m me,” he said, as if that alone should’ve won every category. “Your me.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer and brushing his hair back from his eyes. “You want me to kiss it better?”

His ears turned pink. “...Maybe.”

So you did.

Right there on the bottom step, you leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth — then another, right on his lips. Slow and warm and full of something that made his hand tighten around your wrist again.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were a little red.

“Better?” you whispered.

He hummed. “One more. Just in case.”

You laughed again, but gave it to him — and this time, he pulled you with him as he turned and walked toward his bike, hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist like he wasn’t letting go ever again.

His motorbike was leaned against a tree near the edge of the shrine path, moonlight glinting off the chrome. You’d barely turned your head to look at it before Mikey tugged you in, sitting on the seat and pulling you between his legs with ease.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. “We’re not going yet, are we?”

“Nah,” he mumbled, arms sliding around your waist. “Just wanna sit with you.”

He leaned forward, head pressing to your stomach, sighing like he’d finally gotten what he wanted. Your fingers threaded through his hair automatically, soft and slow.

“You’re really that offended?”

“I’m not offended,” he muttered into your hoodie. “I just wanted you to say I’m hot.”

“You’re hot,” you said without missing a beat.

“Too late.”

“Mikey.”

He looked up, chin resting against your ribs. “I forgive you,” he said seriously. “But only if you ride with me tomorrow.”

You grinned. “Was planning to.”

His smile softened, hands still locked around your waist, holding you there like you might float away.

“You look good like this,” he said quietly. “With my jacket. With me.”

Your heart stuttered — again. He always did that. Just when you thought he was done being serious, he slipped in something so soft it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I like being yours, y’know,” you whispered.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

You bent down, kissed his forehead gently. “Yeah.”

He looked like he was trying not to smile too wide — but failing.

“Then stay a little longer.”

You didn’t need to answer. You just curled into his lap, his jacket big enough to cover you both from the cool night air, the sounds of engines echoing in the distance, and the warmth of Mikey’s arms around you making the shrine feel like your own little world.

___________________________________________________________________________

The sky was still painted in sleepy pinks and quiet oranges when your phone buzzed.

[Mikey💀] "Outside. Get on. We’re skipping school."

You blinked at the message, then peeked out your window.

There he was.

Leaning against his prized motorbike, arms crossed, the wind tossing his blond hair slightly, looking way too proud of himself for someone who probably hadn’t slept more than four hours. His uniform jacket hung lazily off his shoulders, and his helmet dangled from two fingers like a promise.

Of trouble. And something softer.

You didn’t even hesitate.

By the time you slipped out your door, Mikey’s eyes lit up like you were the sunrise itself.

He held out the helmet immediately. “You took too long. I almost came up and carried you out.”

“You would’ve,” you said flatly.

“I should’ve,” he said, helping you clip the strap under your chin, his fingers brushing your jaw like he had to touch you.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked. “Wherever you want. But first, we ride.”

On the Road – Wind and Freedom

There was something about riding with Mikey that didn’t feel like real life. Maybe it was the way he drove — fast but sure, reckless but safe in his own weird way. Maybe it was the way the city blurred past, or how your arms fit perfectly around his middle, your cheek pressed against his back.

But most of all, it was the silence between you — warm, unspoken understanding that didn’t need filling.

The city faded. The buildings shrank. And then you reached it.

The Waterfront – His Favorite Place

The same quiet spot from before — the wide edge of the river where the world seemed to pause. The water stretched out smooth and silver under the early morning light, and the breeze was gentle, lifting Mikey’s hair as he cut the engine.

He parked, leaned the bike gently down, and held your hand as you hopped off — not letting go even when you were both standing.

“This place’s been mine forever,” he said softly, tugging you with him toward the edge. “But now it feels like it’s yours too.”

You smiled. “You always bring me to the quiet places.”

He looked at you — really looked. “You’re my quiet place.”

Your heart squeezed.

Then, as if he realized how serious that sounded, he added quickly, “And because you're hot. I wanna keep you where no one else sees you.”

You shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m yours,” he said smugly, sitting on the concrete ledge and pulling you into his lap without even asking.

You settled there, warm in the morning sun, his arms wound lazily around your waist again.

“You’re clingier than usual.”

He nodded against your shoulder. “Didn’t get enough time with you last night.”

You tilted your head. “We sat on your bike for almost two hours.”

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

You kissed the top of his head, your fingers playing with his hair.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded with sleep and affection. “Marry me.”

You blinked. “You’re doing this again?”

He grinned. “I meant it. Sooner or later, I’m locking you down.”

You leaned in and kissed him, slow and sure — then pulled back just far enough to whisper, “Then I hope it’s sooner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The breeze rolled in gentle waves, brushing across your skin like a whisper. Mikey rested his head on your shoulder, legs dangling over the concrete ledge where the river lapped below. For a long moment, he was quiet. Not out of awkwardness — just content.

But you could feel something stirring beneath the stillness.

He was thinking.

You didn’t rush him. Not with Mikey. When he was ready, he spoke.

“…Y’know when I was a kid,” he started, voice low, “I thought I had to be the strongest person alive.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes on his profile.

He wasn’t smiling now.

“I thought if I wasn’t strong… I’d lose everything. My brother. My gang. My people. So I decided I’d never show fear. Never slow down. Just keep pushing.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak. Letting him be.

He shifted slightly, arms still around your waist but his hands resting in his lap now.

“But you…” he said, almost like he was thinking out loud. “You don’t ask me to be strong. Or scary. You don’t even look at me like that.”

You swallowed. “Like what?”

“Like the rest of them do,” he said, glancing at you. “Like I’m some kind of unstoppable thing.”

You tilted your head. “You are strong, Mikey. But you’re also… kind. And funny. And stubborn. And incredibly dramatic.”

He smirked a little at that.

“And when you’re with me,” you continued, brushing your thumb across his knuckles, “you don’t have to be anything. Not the Invincible Mikey. Not the leader. Just… Manjirō.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he leaned in slowly and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s why I wanna marry you someday,” he murmured. “Not just ‘cause I love you. But ‘cause with you… I’m not afraid to just be me.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a second heartbeat.

You kissed him, soft and slow and full of every unspoken promise.

When you pulled back, you smiled against his lips. “Then I’ll wait for that day. As long as you want. I’m already yours, Manjirō.”

His arms slid tight around you again, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face into your neck with a sigh.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” he mumbled.

You rested your chin on his head. “Yeah. As long as you need.”

And so you sat — wrapped in each other, in the quiet, in the safety of being seen — as the river flowed and the morning sun painted the world golden.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been quiet for a while.

The kind of warm, sleepy silence only people who are deeply comfortable with each other can share. The sky was fully awake now, soft blue stretching above you, while the city remained distant, forgotten.

Mikey still had you wrapped up in his arms on his lap, chin tucked onto your shoulder like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Okay. So if we had twins…”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Mikey said, completely casual, like you’d been having this conversation. “If we had twins. A boy and a girl.”

You turned to look at him. “Where is this coming from?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “I think we’d make cute babies. It’s a valid thought.”

Your face burned. “Mikey—”

“Manjirō,” he corrected smugly.

You lightly smacked his chest. “You’re skipping way too many steps.”

He leaned his chin in his hand dramatically. “Don’t act like you didn’t just promise to marry me.”

You laughed, trying to hide your flustered smile. “Okay, fine. Twins. What are their names?”

“Glad you asked,” he said, sitting up straighter like he’d been waiting for this. “For the boy—Shin.”

“…Shin?”

“After Shinichiro. But just ‘Shin.’ Cool and strong. Simple. Like, ‘Oh no, Shin’s mad again.’ That kind of vibe.”

Your heart clenched a little at the mention of his brother, but the fondness in his voice made you smile.

“That’s actually… really sweet.”

“I know.” Then he grinned. “And for the girl…”

“Oh no.”

“Her name’s gonna be Pudding.”

You choked.

“Mikey—!”

“Manjirō,” he said again, grinning wider.

“You are not naming our child Pudding.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s cute. She’d be cute. Everyone loves pudding.”

You gave him your best unimpressed stare.

“…Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “I’ll compromise. Her nickname can be Pudding. Her full name can be something like… Hikari. Or Yuzu.”

You blinked. “Yuzu’s really cute…”

He lit up. “Right?! Yuzu and Shin. Boom. Perfect.”

“Shin and Yuzu,” you repeated under your breath, testing the way it sounded. “That’s actually… adorable.”

Mikey leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you. I’m a genius.”

You glanced at him, at the messy hair and the way the morning light caught on his lashes, at the soft curve of his grin and the boyish glint in his eye.

“…You’d actually be a good dad,” you said, quieter than you meant to.

His smirk faded into something gentler.

“Only ‘cause I’d have you,” he said.

And just like that, the teasing melted back into something warmer. Realer.

He pulled you back into his lap again, hugging you like you were already his future, not just his present.

And maybe… you were.

___________________________________________________________________________

The same riverbank.

Years had passed, but Mikey still liked to come here. Still parked his bike at the edge of the slope, still kicked back with his hands behind his head, like he was king of the world and the sky existed just to amuse him.

But now, the boy was a man.

Still lazy-eyed and sun-touched, still with wind in his hair and that devil-may-care smirk — but something in him was more solid now. A spine of quiet strength. Eyes that had seen a little more but lost less. This time, he’d held onto what mattered.

And what mattered… was currently leaning her head on his shoulder, laughing at one of his stupid jokes.

You.

“You remember the first time I dragged you out here?” he asked, voice low but grinning.

“Dragged? I remember you begged me for a bike ride because you couldn’t sleep.”

“I did not beg,” he scoffed. “I persuaded.”

“Sure, Manjirō.”

He smirked, then nudged your temple with his own. “You were so nervous that night.”

“You tried to name our imaginary daughter Pudding.”

“She’s still on the list.”

You laughed, and for a while, you both just watched the river shimmer. The way it had back then. Before everything got bigger. Before Toman became a name whispered in every back alley with both fear and awe. Before Mikey became a living legend.

But with you, he was still the same dork who stole your fries and your heart.

So when he shifted beside you and said, “Close your eyes,” you did.

No questions. Just trust.

You felt him move. Heard the rustle of fabric. Then silence.

And then:

“Okay. Open.”

You turned — and your breath caught.

Mikey was sitting cross-legged in front of you, holding a ring between his fingers like it wasn’t heavy with meaning. Like it was just a ring. But his eyes… told a different story.

He wasn’t nervous.

He was glowing.

“I’m not gonna do some long speech,” he said. “I think you already know.”

He reached forward, gently taking your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was trying to memorize them again.

“I love you. Like, idiotically much. Always have. Always will. I wanna eat breakfast with you every morning, and argue about baby names, and hold your hand when we’re eighty and I’ve got bad knees and saggy cheeks.”

You let out a teary laugh, but he was dead serious now.

“I wanna be your husband,” he said. “Not someday. Now.”

Then, softly:

“Marry me.”

The words settled between you like sunlight — warm and real and undeniable.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes. Manjirō… yes.”

And that was it. He slipped the ring on like he’d always known where it belonged. Then pulled you in, kissed you like the world could end right there and he’d still be smiling.

Afterward, still holding you against his chest, he whispered:

“You’re gonna look so good in my last name.”

___________________________________________________________________________

If you thought being Mikey’s girlfriend was eventful, being his fiancée was like trying to plan a royal wedding during a gang meeting.

Which, unfortunately… was kind of exactly what it turned into.

You told Emma first — of course you did.

The moment you showed her the ring, her scream echoed across the café.

“HE FINALLY DID IT?!”

You barely had time to nod before she threw her arms around you, squealing like she’d just won the lottery. Which, to be fair, she kind of felt like she had.

“I’m going to plan everything,” she declared, already grabbing napkins to sketch ideas. “No—Mitsuya and I are going to plan everything. You’re going to have the most beautiful wedding Tokyo has ever seen.”

“Emma, I love you, but I don’t want to wear something with feathers and glitter—”

“Tasteful glitter,” she corrected.

Later, you told the rest of Toman at a casual gathering Mikey claimed would be “lowkey.”

Spoiler: it was not lowkey.

Mikey, with his usual subtlety, dropped the news mid-lunch like, “Oh yeah, I proposed. She said yes. Pass the soy sauce.”

Takemichi nearly choked on his noodles.

Smiley and Angry immediately started arguing about who would cry first at the wedding.

Draken just smirked and clapped Mikey on the back. “About time.”

Mitsuya pulled out a notebook. “When’s the fitting?”

You turned to Mikey. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted a big wedding.”

He shrugged, completely shameless. “Didn’t think you’d say no. Besides, if you did, we’d just ride off somewhere and do it alone.”

Everyone laughed—except you, because you knew he meant it.

__________________________________________________________________________

Your phone buzzed that night. A text from Mikey.

“You still wanna do this, right?”

You smiled, heart warm.

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Dunno. Just… can’t believe I get to marry you.”

You bit your lip, feeling the butterflies stir.

“You’re soft.”

“Only for you.”

“Go to sleep, Manjirō.”

“Can’t. Too excited.”

You stared at his last message for a moment. Then texted back:

“Me too.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The sun was golden over the shrine, soft and slow as it spilled across the worn stone steps. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, the air filled with faint traces of incense and the rustle of silk. It was traditional, timeless — just like Mikey wanted it.

Just like he always dreamed.

He stood with his hands tucked in the sleeves of his black montsuki, embroidered in silver with the Tokyo Manji insignia hidden within the family crest on the back. His hair was loose today, a little windswept, soft strands falling over his eyes.

He looked calm. He looked ready.

But his thumb was brushing circles against the inside of his sleeve.

Draken leaned in from behind him. “You nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Mikey said.

“You’re twitching.”

“I’m not twitching,” he said. Then blinked. “…Okay. Maybe a little.”

Draken smirked. “Good. Means you actually care.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

He was nervous.

Because you were everything.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were standing in front of the mirror as Emma adjusted the delicate hairpin at the side of your head, a deep breath caught somewhere in your chest.

“Okay, look at me,” she said, stepping back. “You are… breathtaking.”

You turned, eyes wide and shimmering. The white uchikake you wore shimmered with a subtle pattern of cranes and chrysanthemums — hand-sewn by Mitsuya, of course — and your obi was fastened in a delicate lotus bow, soft pink threading woven into it for good luck.

“Emma,” you whispered. “It’s really happening.”

She smiled, misty-eyed. “I know. He’s really doing it. You broke the curse, you know?”

You blinked. “Curse?”

“The Manjiro ‘never-gonna-marry-because-he-says-he’s-married-to-his-bike’ curse. You shattered it.”

You both laughed, clutching each other’s hands tightly.

Then, the doors opened.

The shrine was quiet — not tense, just reverent.

Toman members lined both sides of the main path in formal black. No one cracked jokes. Even Smiley looked serious. Even Baji’s ghost, if he were there, would’ve stayed quiet out of respect.

Because when Mikey turned and saw you walking toward him — radiant, sure, the very image of love and calm and everything he’d never deserved but somehow got — the whole world stilled.

His breath caught.

His heart ached in the best way.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Draken nudged him.

“You look like a kid who just got all the candy.”

He ignored him.

Because you had reached him. You were standing in front of him. You were about to become his wife.

And Mikey, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel like the leader of anything.

He just felt yours.

The priest read the words. You exchanged sake cups. You bowed together before the altar.

And when Mikey turned to face you again, his voice was soft — but his words landed like thunder.

“I was a storm before you,” he said, not caring about tradition. “But you… you make me want peace. Every day. And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.”

You didn’t even try to stop the tears. You smiled through them.

“I already feel like your wife,” you whispered. “But I’m so, so happy to be it in name too.”

He kissed you then — traditional timing be damned — and the crowd broke into quiet, reverent cheers.

Toman, at his back.

His future, in his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

The room was quiet.

Not silent — the sound of water in the garden beyond the sliding doors still trickled peacefully, and the soft rustle of silk and linen moved as Mikey sat behind you, undoing the intricate layers of your wedding attire with slow, careful hands.

Neither of you had spoken much since the reception ended.

He didn’t need to.

The moment you stepped through the door of the traditional inn he’d chosen — away from the speeches, the dancing, the playful shouting of drunk Toman boys — Mikey had taken your hand and held it like it was the only thing grounding him to the earth.

“You’re really mine now,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

You turned in his arms, hands against his chest. “I was always yours, Manjirō.”

He looked at you like he still couldn’t believe it. Like even now, after everything, you were a dream he hadn’t quite earned. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the last traces of makeup, the last glitter from Emma’s wild ceremony touch-ups.

“You looked beautiful today,” he said. “But not as beautiful as you do right now.”

You smiled, eyes shining. “You said that during the vows.”

“I meant it then, too.”

And then, softly:

“Can I hold you? Like… really hold you?”

You nodded, and the two of you lay down together on the futon. No rush. No urgency.

Just the weight of forever, finally within reach.

He kissed you slow. Not like the goofy kisses he’d steal at the shrine, or the teasing ones on your neck during bike rides. This was different. Intentional. Reverent.

He kissed you like a vow.

Fingers laced with yours. Arms around your waist. His voice in your ear, quiet and slightly rough:

“You’re my home.”

Morning came gently.

He was already awake, blinking at the ceiling with your hand resting over his bare chest, thumb twitching slightly in your sleep.

He glanced at you.

His wife.

His light.

His everything.

“Still here,” he murmured, smiling faintly.

You stirred, squinting at him. “Where else would I go?”

Mikey grinned, leaning in to steal a lazy, sleepy kiss. “Just checking.”

The years ahead stretched out wide and open — with Toman standing strong, with people he trusted at his side, and with you curled up next to him in his arms. For once, the future didn’t look heavy.

It looked like peace.

It looked like breakfast together in oversized shirts and soft hair and his jacket hanging next to your coat on the wall. Like you teasing him for talking in his sleep. Like picking baby names again on the balcony in the evening. Like safety.

And every now and then — when the world outside got loud — he’d pull you close and murmur in your ear like he did on the first night:

“Say it again.”

And you would.

“I love you, Manjirō.”

Always.

863 notes · View notes

cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago

Text

SO WHY DO GOOD GIRLS LIKE BAD GUYS ?! - the biker's route ☆ !

cashmoneyyysstuff's big 6K event!!

synopsis : leather jackets, motorcycles, a nasty attitude—and a smart ass mouth !! but it's just somethin' about him, y'know ??

an. route 3 is here after making yall wait !!! sorry yall exams r comin up but i hope yall enjoy this part >_<!! also i make a sneaky lil aphmau reference his here bc im very unfunny, enjoy!

when you wake up today, it takes you about 5 minutes to actually get up.

you look to your left and your right, half expecting to be met with another katsuki; maybe this one would be a merman or something?! and yet, nothing.

so you stare at your ceiling and wait. maybe this one will come blast through your bedroom wall like the dragon again..!

nothing, nothing and a whole lotta nothing.

so you finally decide to get up and start your day, things were actually back to normal today. you decide to ignore the slightest twinge of disappointment in your gut but you cheer up a bit when you remember the study date your boyfriend had not so graciously promised you.

you're just about done dressing up, about to tie your uniform tie when there's a knock on your door. katsuki is here to pick you up (despite saying he wouldn't anymore like two days ago, typical.) early and on time as usual, or maybe just a bit too early.

"coming !" you call out, pulling up your socks to line them up comfortably, hobbling towards the door to let your boyfriend in.

you swing the door open, already anticipating to be met with your boyfriend, "you're here ear..ly ?"

you stand corrected, it is him. no horns, no ears or tails..but still...a bit different.

first of all, he's not wearing his uniform, no book bag either. instead he's decked out in a black leather biker jacket, baggy black ripped jeans and silver jewellery around his neck, you catch some rings (and bandages) on his fingers when he reaches up to place a hand against his neck, groaning when it pops. and black combat boots. basically, the whole nine yards for a school day.

"oh." is all you can say, part impressed and partly, mostly, confused.

"thought you were gonna keep me waitin' forever." katsuki said, and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. he leans in, tugging you forward by your tie to finish tying it for you.

"wha—i—you just got here." you stuttered "and also, not that i mind, but shouldn't you get dressed for class ?"

your boyfriend looks you up and down, tightly pulling the knot of your tie up properly. you can't help but feel a bit shy at how he's so openly scanning over you.

"nah, fuck that." he shrugs.

okay, now this was strange.

your katsuki with the perfect grades, the stickler, the secret goodie two shoes with perfect attendance wants to skip class?? something was very wrong.

he stands back like nothing happened, shoving his hands in his pockets "anyway, you ready to get outta here or what ?"

"huh ? where are we going ?"

"wherever we wanna, you got anything in mind ?" and he's already turning around, grabbing you by the arm with a smirk.

huh ?

"...is something—"

you can't even finish your question before you hear your name being called loudly, by katsuki. your katsuki, ready for school, book bag and everything just on time to pick you up.

ah, you knew he'd gotten here too damn early.

"dude, this is so creepy."

"how'd this even happen ?!"

"i wonder what type of quirk did this...."

you can catch the beginning of midoriya starting up on his nerdy rambling before sighing. you try tuning your classmates out with a sigh and turn your music up louder in your earbuds.

your homeroom teacher, who had clearly had enough of the surge of bakugou's appearing before him, had allowed this new edgy katsuki (as denki called him, somehow it managed to stick) to attend class. he looked normal enough and didn't look like he'd cause too much trouble, as long as he was attended to, that attendant being you, of course.

"there's another one ?!" you hear mineta cry, surely still traumatised from his experience with the wolfish katsuki almost having him as his early morning snack. the thought makes you laugh. you turn to look at the crowd of your classmates gathered around the twin katsuki's.

kaminari is the first to try and cause mischief, taking his chances since your homeroom teacher was taking a while, and had started a "spot the real bakugou!" contest. the contest was a bit flawed since they were both convinced they were the real original, but you decide not to step in on their fun. (and you have to admit it was a bit entertaining.)

"okay, everyone quiet down please! let's get back on track! " kaminari bellowed, wrapping his hands around his mouth to project his voice.

"gentlemen, whoever can answer this next question will receive..." he sings, drumming his hands on his desk in anticipation, neither katsuki's seem very amused.

kaminari jumps up, dramatically revealing a snickers bar "ta-daaaaa!! a free snickers bar from yours truly! though it's been sitting in my bag for a couple days.." he mutters quietly.

"i don't want that shit." both katsuki's say at the same time.

your entire class errupts into laughter and chaos. you shake your head in amusement and decide to scoot a bit closer to keep listening.

"um..could i request a question ?" midoriya pipes up, raising a hand.

"mister midoriya wishes to request a question ! what do you say, kacchan ?" kaminari the announcer encourages.

"fuck off, nerd!" both katsuki's say again, it's really starting to look like some kind of circus act now. you can't help but laugh along with your classmates.

"midoriya, you have the floor." kaminari giggles, leaning his makeshift fist microphone to your green-haired friends lips.

"how do you feel about having a clone of you ? is it scary ? do you feel connected in a way ? is it—"

kaminari interrupts before midoriya can go full blown geek "please, keep the questions to a minimum, sir !" he energetically spins back around, his chair squeaking loudly as he turns back to your boyfriend and edgysuki. "well, your response ?"

your boyfriend pipes up first with a scoff "like i care, i'm not scared of shit, let alone this dickbag. and no, i don't feel connected to this creep—don't ask me these weird fuckin' questions !"

your boyfriend almost takes this like a real interview, yelling at his childhood friend but diligently staying close to kaminari's fist like it was an actual mic. edgy katsuki seems to think the most important part had been said and doesn't add anything else, although once he spots you in the 'crowd', he makes sure to keep his eyes fixed on you. you quickly look away, your ears burn when you hear him chuckle.

soon after his response your classmates pipe up with more and more questions "oh, oh me ! i have a question !" and "can i go next ?!"s sound inside your class. you're just about to request a random question when sero beats you to it. you kick your legs excitedly, knowing he was always the first one to mess with your boyfriend.

"my question's for both the baku's, actually." he drawls, smirking lazily. he leans back in his chair like he knows he's about to start some shit.

"out of the both of you; who do you think likes yn the most ?"

....

huh.

"wha.." you wheeze, the noise stays stuck in your throat . you feel your ears burn, and it's most definitely intensified by the chorus of "ooooo's" overtaking your class. your class rep tries to save the situation, stating it was surely against the rules to ask such an inappropriate question. you nod to him in appreciation.

"i checked the rule book and this type of question is totally fine actually !" kaminari says.

"what rulebook ?!" you pipe up, embarrassed.

he grins at you, pointing to himself "this rulebook."

fuck, you should've seen that one coming.

"now, an answer if you may..." kaminari snickered bouncing on his chair excitedly, barely able to keep his excitement in check.

your boyfriend's eyes flit to you, likely sensing your embarrassment, his ears turn pink and he scoffs. crossing his arms and readjusting in his chair he grumbles. "this is stupid. m'not answerin' that—"

"—i do, obviously."

....

silence. pure silence after the other katsuki speaks.

"i obviously like her more." he repeats, this time making sure he looks at you while he speaks. he's so sure of himself, arms crossed as well and leaned back so casually with a smirk panting his face.

"...hah?" your boyfriend growls in warning "the fuck you just say..?"

"you got a hearin' problem or somethin' ? quit making me repeat myself, dick cheese." the other katsuki sneers back.

"ya think you like my girl more than me, jackass ?!"

"i know i like my girl more than some extra, shit stain!"

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLIN' AN EXTRA, YOU PIECE OF SHIT ?!"

"WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKIN' TO BUT YOU, YOU FUCKING MORON ?!"

it's chaos. shouting and howling and absolute chaos. but before things can break out into an all out fist fight, your homeroom teacher finally walks in. barely sparing any of you a glance and setting up his sleeping bag on the floor. until—

"you better all get in your seats by the time i'm finished or so help me..."

you have never moved faster in your life. you're sure you unlocked a hyper speed quirk with the way you zoomed back to your seat, head fixed down on your desk. your homeroom teacher sighs in exasperation, introducing the new katsuki you'd all managed to get very familiar in the span of a few minutes. he makes sure to warn you all with a "behave yourselves." kaminari gulps as he feels the teachers eyes very obviously fixed on him.

safe to say the lesson goes on without a hitch, everyone afraid to breath a little too loud.

you quietly scribbling in your notebook. you hope your teacher can't hear the way your heart hammers against your ribs.

you'd managed to survive your class day under the watchful eye of three people;

mister aizawa, who was already in a bad mood from your earlier predicament with your classmates.

your boyfriend who kept glancing back at you...

...probably because of the third hawk carefully watching you, bad boysuki,( or should you probably call him bullysuki) who was very subtle in chucking paper balls at you while the teachers were looking away. the entire day.

he was seated behind you in the back of the classroom, which gave him plenty of opportunities to kick the back of your chair and look oh, so innocent when you turned around to glare at him. during present mic's english class, he'd dropped his pencil inside the collar of your shirt and barely covered his snort when you shrieked in surprise.

truly, a fucking nuisance. too bad for him, you'd been dating said nuisance for more than a year now and this couldn't phase you in the least.

—before you can reach for your bag, you're brought out of your thoughts by katsuki, the all black one, snatching your bag and throwing it behind his shoulder casually. "you ready to blow this joint or what ?"

"i'm not blowing anything with you, jerk. m'starting to think being insufferable is how you breathe."

"aww. you mad at me, sweetheart ?" he coos, leaning down closer to you. you try not to show your surprise, curling your lip up and rolling your eyes at him. his eyes flit down to your mouth for a short moment. "m'just messin' with you a bit. s'all in good fun."

"it's not funny if you're the only one laughing." you counter. he rolls his eyes playfully. pulling you closer by your arm and leaning in way closer than he needed to.

"fine, s'my bad or whatever. how bout i make it up to you by takin' you out, hm ? got someplace in mind ?"

before you can speak, you're interrupted by your boyfriend snatching you back, causing a surprised noise to clog in your throat.

"she's not going anywhere with you, weirdo." katsuki readjusts his grip on your arm, his palms slightly sweaty. you can already feel he's whole body practically heating up.

bad boy katsuki's smirk is immediately replaced with a scowl, tilting his head back to mean mug your boyfriend. he has a few piercings in his ear too, you notice.

"hah?! s'far as i'm concerned, she hasn't said she was gonna go with anywhere with you."

"she doesn't need to tell you anything. besides, we already have plans. so, fuck. off." katsuki growls, putting extra strain on the fact you and him had a study session planned. the other katsuki doesn't seem to take the news well, cracking his bandages knuckles with a scowl.

"huh, that reminds me. we got interrupted before i got to kick your ass, huh?"

"if you wanna go all you gotta do is say when, pussy—"

before the both of them could start trading blows in the middle of your classroom, you stretch your arms, putting distance between the both of them and surprising them both.

"okay, boys. let's cut it out and use our big boy words okay ?" you sigh, irritated. "since, apparently, you're both toddlers, how about i call the shots here, yeah ?

i'm not going anywhere with either of you if you can't behave yourselves." you turn to look at edgysuki "i had a study date planned, so i unfortunately won't be going out with you. if you wanna come along, be my guest. i have a test coming up so if you test me, i will fuck your life up."

"and you," you turn back to your boyfriend, who's wide eyes are fixed on you "behave, okay ?" you warn, swatting at his chest. he jumps like the action snapped him out of his trance, and looks away with a scoff.

he grunts in agreement but grumbles about it, "should tell that other bastard that..."

that was more than enough for you. "alright, off we go." you usher the boys towards the hallway. your boyfriend moves with quickness, snatching your hand and pulling you away before the other katsuki can get a word in. while walking though, the other katsuki leans in to whisper hotly in your ear.

"that was hot as hell, sweets."

"be quiet." you whine.

"of course you'd get us kicked out of the library—of course of cou—how could i not have known ?!"

currently, you're trying your best to not lose your mind.

the difference between a half human hybrid katsuki and a shoujo bad boy male lead katsuki ? one was wild and untameable and it was definitely not the one you're thinking of.

you're honestly surprised the fucking wolf and dragon were easier to deal with than a biker jacket wearing delinquent.

it had started..okay ? maybe ? then again with any amount of katsuki's, going from 0 to 100 wasn't a hard task. you think maybe bad boysuki had started teasing you too much for your boyfriends liking. as protective as he was, and it sort of would've been flattering(you've always had a think for the delinquent type, okay ?!) if they hadn't started trying to have a showdown for your affection in the middle of a library.

and with the way they'd acted, it wouldn't be a big surprise if you were banned for life.

"i didn't even do shit but he—"

"he swung at me fi—"

"both of you shut the fuck up or so help me..." you groan, rubbing your temples. "i love both of you very much, unfortunately, but i'm only human and right now i'm having to hold back the very human urge of wringing your necks out like geese !" you shriek.

your boyfriend looks at the ground, kicking the toe of his shoe against some rocks, he never liked getting scolded after all. you'd almost feel bad, almost. (you still feel a little bad.)

"he—"

"quiet."

"yeah, quiet, loser." bad boy pipes up.

"you be quiet, too." you point, eyes wide. "you know what ? do whatever you want. fight to the death in the middle of the road like buffoons all you want, i do not care. do not come talk to me until you figure it out or...!" you splutter, trying to think of a fitting punishment "no smoochies for a month!"

your boyfriend's head shoots up, looking at you like you'd just admitted to torching his precious signed all might card "w-what the hell ?! that's basically only punishment for me!"

"figure. it. out." you conclude, turning your nose up and walking away and ignoring your boyfriends calling out for you. god, it was like dealing with two big baby's, and dealing with one was already more than enough!

but even if you are pissed off, your katsuki does have an extremely kissable face, and you don't know if you could hold up your end of the punishment.

you're sitting in your room now absentmindedly thinking about your predicament, study sheets splayed out around you. when you hear a knock at the door. you quickly get up, eager to leave your notes behind and stretch your legs. you're greeted with bad boy katsuki, looking down at the ground clutching something in his hand.

"you left this in the library..." he mutters, looking away and handing you your pencil case. you blink in surprise—you had no idea that you'd left it—but you manage to keep calm.

you clear your throat before responding "oh, thanks."

"should thank that other guy. he's the one that found it an' told me to bring it to you." he admits "even though i was gonna do it too, fuckin' bastard ordering me around..." he grits out, bitter.

your heart warms, your boyfriend was an idiot after all.

"where is katsuki anyway? well, my katsuki that is."

katsuki scoffs a laugh, finally looking back at you "m'right here, sweetheart."

wow, talk about déjà vu.

"but if you're looking for him he went off somewhere, said i should go see you first or whatever."

you sigh in relief "well, i'm glad you guys managed to get along."

"tch. i ain't getting along with that bastard. don't lump me in with him."

"kinda hard to do considering you are the same perso—."

"yeah, whatever—just—look." he steps closer, walking in your space and closing your door behind you. he backs you up until your knees hit the bed and you slump backwards with an "oof!". he has you where he wants you now. quickly shrugging off his jacket, revealing a tight short sleeved shirt (perfectly accentuating his muscles, mind you) his arms placing themselves on either side of your head. you lay there looking up at him speechless, wide eyed.

"it's stuffy in here. should open a window." he explains, eyes locking with yours.

"right..." you gulp.

"your room's a mess, too."

"okay, you can get it out if it bothers you." you snarked, squinting at him.

his eyes soften and he looks down at you seriously again. "look," he repeats"i don't—i'm not good at shit like this. but..." he looks off to the sound, grumbling. you catch how his ears bleed pink.

"i don't like you being mad..or whatever." he knocks his forehead to yours "...so stop it."

you snort "wow, so smooth." you chuckle when he shifts to shove his head into your shoulder with a quick "shut up."

his hands search and feel around until they get to yours, intertwining them. "don't..." the rest of his sentence is muffled into your shirt. "i can't hear you." you say curiously, he groans loudly.

"s-stop making me say embarrassing shit." he pulls his head out to look at you, your noses bump against each other. his lips oh, so close to yours.

"don't go...thinking that other guy likes you more than i do, got it..? and don't go liking him..more than me..." he trails off. eyes locked to yours, he waits for your response. you swallow harshly. you want to lick your lips, but he's so close you're worried they'll touch.

"well, i like the both of you just the same. so you don't need to worry about that." you say, managing to gather your thoughts you wrap your arms around him to pull him into a hug. he grunts, surprised, but melts into you quickly enough.

"guess that's good enough..." he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. he laughs when you squeal in surprise.

"i still like you more than him though."

and then, as soon as you blink, he was gone.

katsuki let's out a high pitched gasp when you surprise him in the common room kitchen, wrapping your arms around him.

"bwu—wh—what the hell?! don't just sneak up on me like that, dumbass !" he splutters, trying to make up from the cute little noise he let out. you giggle, squeezing his waist while he groans. he can't pull you off him as he's doing the dishes and that'd cause one big mess. (and since he's already on thin ice and doesn't wanna get his boyfriend privileges revoked, he'll stick this one out.)

he sighs, defeated "did that fucker fuck off yet ?" he asks.

"potty mouth," you laugh "and yeah, he's gone now. thanks for finding my pencil case for me, by the way."

he reaches to pinch you and you groan at the wet feeling on your skin, wiping your arm on his shirt. " keep having to pick up after your forgetful ass. should be more careful instead of having a hissy fit at me."

"don't start with me right now, katsuki."

he chuckles and shrugs, resigned. "you still mad ?"

"i wasn't anymore, but your little remark just made me re-mad at you."

your boyfriend stiffens and whips back to look at you, frowning. he squints, you squint back. after a heated stare down match he concedes and rolls his eyes.

"...sorry."

"meh. 2 points."

"what the hell?!" he groans, his hands splash around in the water causing soap bubbles to fly. you laugh and lean up to press a kiss to his lips. his mouth closes abruptly, surprise filling his features.

"well, i won't be taking away your smoochie privileges, at least."

"don't sneak up on me like that.." he scowls "and you better not. would've become your worst fuckin' nightmare till you gave in."

you snort "yeah, right. more like you'd become the whiniest baby."

"fuck off." he scoffs.

you giggle to yourself quietly. swaying lightly as your boyfriend silently does his job, the clinking of the dishes filling in the silence.

until katsuki decides to speak up. "hey."

"hm?"

"love ya."

your heart jumps, looking up at him as he keeps his back to you. your face heats and katsuki shows no sign of being bothered by your silence, if only the way he slows down just slightly in his washing.

smiling, you press a kiss to his back "i love you, too."

he stands straighter, almost electrocuted by your words. he huffs, shifting on his feet.

"hmph...i win, then."

curious, you look up at him again "what are you talking about ?"

he finally looks back at you, a feral grin forms on his face "that face stealing bastard can like ya all he wants, but i still love you more!" he snickers evilly.

your boyfriend was, truly, the biggest idiot.

taglist ! ( if your name is in bold i couldn't tag u :< )

@jastoo46 @cecelia77 @erenstitanweave @closehereyes @stoned-anime-babe @taxavoider @yannvi @sugurusmoon @allurearia @kaerotica @wonubby @cupidsblonde @catsoupki @ita606 @andysdrafts @omitea @lili-of-the-vally @serpent-hearted @ghostorchidd @shewki @pirana10 @witch-craft-works @kanvis @okkotsuus @dragonscribble @emmiesarchive @screaming-dough @napbatata @cacaandweewizzsstuff @redollface @meowsannie @katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba @moonshuul @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam @aspiringwriter1111 @redvelvetstan1 @niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia @qyuin @bakugouswaif @themultifandomgirl @icey-wonders

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lovelettersfromluna · 4 months ago

Text

Love Me Not

summary: “Oh, it’s hard to leave you when I get you everywhere”

an: Hi 😳. I know okay…I KNOW!!! It’s here, and it’s done, and Jesus Christ I seriously hope you like it. This series was soooo much fun but boy am I glad it’s finished. I have been sitting on this one for way too long, it’s about time it’s given to you all. You waited so patiently, and for that i am forever grateful. Enjoy darlings 🤍🤍🤍

warnings: MDNI!! 18+ fic!!, smut!, angst!, sub!Ellie bc she’s a fucking mess for this girl poor thing. Mentions of alcohol, tribbing, oral (Ellie!receiving), edging, Ellie is super duper soft in this one. Pls lmk if I missed anything!!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Ellie could count on her hands the amount of times she’d been hung up over a girl.

There was that one time when she was really young. There was a girl in her class with the most mesmerizing hair, curls that bounced like coils every time she moved. Ellie was like 6 and had no idea how to navigate the puppy love crush she had on her classmate, so never truly said anything. That one always really sticks, since it was her first real crush and not some cartoon character.

Then there was another girl in her seventh grade science class. Ellie sat right behind her, and always got a whiff of her fruity smelling body spray. Ellie’s sure if she smelled it today she’d be transported to a time of puberty and skinny jeans. One day the girl turned around and asked Ellie for a pencil and she completely froze. Body spray girl stared at Ellie like she had three heads, confused as to why she’d suddenly turned into a statue with not even a shake of the head to her pencil request.

These awkward, unrequited crushes fizzled out once Ellie got the high school. She’d found herself in a way, straightened it her posture so she didn’t walk with a slouch, ditch her god awful permanent pony tail for a choppy bob, revamped her wardrobe, did all the things she had to do to feel comfortable in her own skin rather than trying to wear one she didn’t fit in.

In the process of all this, the girls at school found her too.

She was almost overwhelmed with the attention she started getting during her freshman year. Imagine her, poor thing practically shaking in her boots while the girls flocked her like moths to a flame in the girls bathroom while they changed for gym class, practically shoving their phones into Ellie’s chest to exchange phone numbers and social media tags.

The moment Ellie accepted it and actually decided to speak to these girls, she learned that she was in fact a natural born flirt. It had always been there, she’d just been too chicken shit to apply herself.

Your brother was there during all of this too, following along as they both left you in the dust, welcoming the attention they bother gained from their transformations over the summertime. It was like overnight, the dynamic duo suddenly ruled the school and had all the girls at their feet.

So yeah, it was all of two times and when it did happen, it was because she was still terrified of the way girls made her feel.

But god….none of that came close to what you were doing to her now.

She was an adult now, an adult who wasn’t interested in a relationship right now. It wasn’t like she was a slut or anything, she simply liked her freedom. She liked hanging out with her friends, she liked being able to go where she wanted without feeling obligated to tell a girl where she was or what she was doing. She didn’t want anyone breathing down her back every waking minute of her life.

So if that was true? Why the hell were you the only thing on her mind.

Sure…you’ve always been cute. You were always around, trailing behind Ellie and your brother, trying your best to keep up while simultaneously annoying the hell out of them to include you in whatever they were getting into that day. You were the textbook little sister, a brother and his best friends worst nightmare.

It got even worse when you started to get older.

You stopped trying to tag along, finding your own friends to occupy your time during weekends and summer break. You no longer trailed behind them all day, opting to ditch them for your own friends instead. In this time, you were getting over your own awkward phase. Finding yourself and what made you feel the most comfortable in your skin.

It was hard to ignore you. Ellie was only human after all, and a pretty girl was a pretty girl, which you were (very pretty might Ellie add). Ellie wasn’t the strongest soldier, so seeing you prance around your house in your cute little overalls and dresses was one of her hardest battles. And it wasn’t like Derek ever explicitly told her to back off of his little sister. Sure, Derek was protective, but you were your own person. If you and Ellie hit it off, then who was he to get in the way of that?

But that wasn’t even it. Derek didn’t have the slightest inkling that there were any feelings between you and Ellie, he had no room to think about that because of how much Ellie disliked you, or at least how much she seemed to dislike you.

That was all Ellie. She’d always brushed you off, even when you were little. That was mainly because no one ever really wants the annoying kid sister to bother them, however it went beyond that once you all got older. Ellie wasn’t annoyed, or uninterested in whatever it was that you had to say, she was downright cruel. Bitter and mean was an understatement, and she could see the way each and every mean word she shot your way only further cemented the perception that there would never be a world where you and her could survive.

Because she saw it. She saw it in the way your eyes would linger on her, or the way you’d smile brightly whenever you walked in with a fresh baked batch of cookies or whatever the hell it was you were baking. Just because you’d found a life of your own, it didn’t mean you stopped trying to wiggle your way into Ellie and your brothers festivities from time to time.

Ellie knew that you were trouble, and she wasn’t going to let you drag her down a path she knew she’d regret.

You were too sweet, too fucking kind. Ellie knew that if she indulge in you for even a second, you’d want something more than what she could give. She could see it in your eyes, even though you did little to give it away. Ellie could see through it all, and risking your feelings and the relationship with her best friend was something she didn’t want to even begin thinking of doing. Being a total bitch to you was the only answer that made sense to Ellie.

Never did a million years did Ellie think that during a routine summer trip back home, you’d come in and fuck all of that up for her.

Because now you’re on her mind all the time. Ellie dreams about you, she falls asleep thinking about you, she wakes up thinking about you, there really isn’t a time during the day that she isn’t thinking of you. It’s suffocating, and it drives her fucking crazy because all she can think about is when she can have you again, what plan she could orchestrate that will grant her the blessing that is you. She’d fly to the moon and back without a spacesuit on if it meant she could have you without the complications that came with it all.

You linger in the back of her mind, the smell of your skin wafting into her nostrils during random points in the day, times where you aren’t even near her. The feeling of your lips on hers is cemented into her brain, making her weak in the knees every time her eyes flutter shut and she’s able to make out the feeling of your sweet mouth pressed against hers. The shape of your body feels like a puzzle piece, slotted perfectly into hers and molding against her, making her feel like there really isn’t anywhere in the world she belongs more than she belongs with you.

Ellies never felt like this about anyone, and it’s fucking scare her.

It’s how she ended up here, sitting on the couch in your living room and waiting for you to come downstairs and explain yourself.

She saw red when she heard you through the door, your sweet moans contained by the thick walls of your bedroom. Ellie thinks back to when those moans were for her, when you she had you a whining mess beneath her, begging to cum. She remembers how pretty your eyes were when you tugged her down for a kiss, they were practically sparkling with a need that drove Ellie fucking insane.

Knowing that someone else was seeing you that way made her blood run cold.

She didn’t sleep a wink that night, storming down the stairs of your house and settling on your couch. She was like a statue, unmoving as she waited for the inevitable moment that you’d finally come downstairs. A small part of her hoped you’d kick Abby out the same way you kicked her out the last time you were together, seemingly chalking it up to you wanting to sleep in your bed alone.

But time continued to pass, and the sun began to seep into the big windows of your home, and that never happened.

No, you stayed up there with Abby all night. You couldn’t really bring yourself to turn her away after your night together. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into her chest as her hand came up to gently stroke your hair as you fell asleep. It was blissful, the first night since your time with Ellie you were able to sleep with your mind free of the green eyed monster that had taken over your life.

Abby wakes you up with kisses to your neck, her hand slipping under the hem of your t shirt and stroking your bare skin gently as she pulls you out of your dreams. It’s almost too much, the warmth she brings overwhelming as she wakes you up. You dread the moment you’ll have to get up and walk her downstairs.

Little did you know, Abby leaving was the least of your worries.

The sound of your giggles breaks Ellie out of her various daydreams about how she’ll give you and Abby a piece of her mind. She ignores the way it makes her heart flutter, instead keeping her head straight as the sounds of your footsteps grow closer and closer.

“I should be free next Friday…I just need to make sure Derek doesn’t have any plans-“ your flirty words are abruptly stopped once you reach the bottom of the stairs and catch Ellie sitting on the couch.

“Ellie?” You call out softly, your lips tugging down into a gentle frown as you watch the girl staring blankly at the black tv screen.

She inhales deeply before finally standing up from the couch and turning around to watch you. Her appearance nearly makes you gasp, her eyes are low and dull, staring straight into your soul as her tattooed arms cross over her chest. Her tongue darts out slowly to wet her chapped lips before she exhales through her nose.

With the way she’s staring at you, you’re sure that whatever she’ll say next will be directed at you. Her stare is intense and it makes your stomach coil as you stare into her eyes, feeling like she’s judging you as she bores holes into your skull.

But to your surprise, she doesn’t.

Her state shifts behind to to Abby, who’s been silently standing behind you as she watches the awkward stare down between you and Ellie.

“The fuck are you doing here” Ellie spits out as she nods her chin towards the blonde, her words laced with a bitter tone that sends electricity down your spine.

Abby raises her eyebrows at the brunettes question, scoffing softly before she steps forward a bit so that she’s closer behind you. “Was just catching up with an old friend….I didn’t know I needed to call and update you on my every move, Williams” Abby teases, her tone far lighter and more playful than Ellie’s.

Ellie doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“Cool. All caught up then?” She bites back, eyes still laced with something that scares even you.

Abby’s tongue darts out to lick her lips, eyes still trained on Ellie. She then looks down at you, seeing how intently you’re staring at Ellie, anticipating her next move, silent as a mouse.

It doesn’t take much for Abby to now exactly what’s going on here.

She inhales deeply before she nods, her eyes dropping down to the ground before she speaks. “You’re right…I’m sure you’re very tired” Abby drawls out as she looks down at you, the smirk on her face matching the teasing tone in her voice.

Ellie feels like she’ll fucking break something right then and there.

Abby’s words make you stumble over your own. You blink quickly, practically bringing yourself back to life as you turn around to look up at her, giving her a quick nod paired with a small smile. “Yeah…yeah! I’ll uh….ill walk you out” you tell her, your hand going down to interlock your fingers with hers as you lead her to the door.

You open the door for her, inhaling deeply as she finally turns around and gives you a small smile. “Text me….ill come and pick you up on Friday” she promises, her words making your eyes go wide.

If her bold words weren’t enough to shock you, what she does next practically takes your breath away.

She leans down a bit, strong arm going around your waist and pulling you close as she presses a kiss to your mouth. It makes you gasp softly, eyes fluttering shut as you let out a small yelp which Abby swallows up happily, her hand toying with the silky fabric of your top.

When she finally breaks the kiss, she smiles down at you, her hand coming up and brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “I’ll see you later angel” she promises, blue eyes staring deeply into yours before they flicker up to Ellie, a taunting smirk on her lips as she stands up straight.

“I’ll see you around Williams” she promises, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before she finally leaves.

You’re too stunned to speak after all of that, the tension between the two women almost making you dizzy. The air was thick, and it made it hard to breathe especially when Abby kisses you like that in front of Ellie, taking the air right out of your lungs and into her own.

You don’t even want to look at Ellie right now.

She’s angry. Nostrils flared, eyes low, fists balled, she looks like she’s ready to fucking kill someone and you’re directly in her line of sight.

You can practically feel her eyes boring holes into the back of your head, and it makes your breath shaky as you struggle to figure out what to do, wondering whether or not you should turn around and face the girl behind you.

You decide that right now, you can’t.

You keep your head down as you turn around, trying your best to swiftly pass the girl to go up the stairs. You hope that this is just her being dumb and trying to cock block for the sake of it and nothing more, mainly because you aren’t entirely sure you could handle it if it were something more.

Right when you think you’re in the clear, you feel a familiar hand grab your arm tightly.

It makes you gasp softly, feeling as she pulls you to look at her instead of letting you go upstairs. You’re met with those same green eyes that were cemented into your memory, the ones that stared into yours as Ellie begged you to cum for her.

“What the fuck was that” Ellie’s voice is low as she stares into your eyes, grip tightening around your arm as she licks her dry lips.

You stumble over your words, her intense stare turning you into a stuttering mess as you shake your head quickly. “I…what was what Ellie? I don’t-“ she’s quick to cut you off.

“Don’t be stupid. Why the fuck did you choose her” the word falls from her lips like venom, the green eyed girl practically seething it out as she interrogates you.

“You did it on purpose didn’t you…you know how much I fucking hate her, so you wanted to get back at me” she accuses as she gets closer, backing you up into a wall, her body nearly pressed against yours.

Your brain practically short circuits.

Because Abby is your friend, a good friend of yours that you’d had for a large portion of your life so far. She was kind and funny and if you had to admit, you were a little shocked that you two had ended up sleeping together.

But never in a million years did you think that Abby and Ellie had some sort of infamous feud.

Your eyebrows furrow softly as you stare up at her in confusion. “On purpose? Ellie what the fuck are you talking about?” You bark back, suddenly feeling hurt over the girls accusations of you.

She chuckles softly as she nods slowly. “We both knew what you were doing…needed some attention huh? You know you didn’t need to do all of this to get it…” she hums out softly, her bottom lip tugging underneath her teeth as her hand lets go of your arms, and falls down to your waist.

Usually, this would’ve had your head spinning. And while it does make you dizzy, it isn’t at all for the reasons it would have before.

Ellie is fucking with your head at this point.

“Get the fuck off of me Ellie” you sigh out as you roughly push her off of you, allowing you to quickly slip past her body and run up the stairs before she can stop you.

You miss the shocked expression on Ellie’s face when you slip passed her, your feet padding along the wooden steps as you make your way up to your bedroom. She wasn’t entirely sure how you’d react to the quick shift in the conversation, having her going from accusing you to fucking Abby just to get to her, to trying to get it in with you right after.

You’ve had enough at this point. Ellie makes your head spin in the worst fucking way and you know that if you let her in again, you’ll never be able to put an end to whatever fucked up mind tricks she kept playing on you.

Things between you and Ellie had to stop, and you were going to be the one to put an end to it.

Ellie has fucked up in her life….a lot.

And who doesn’t, right? Humans make mistakes, not everyone’s perfect, that much is true. Ellie wasn’t perfect, which she was entirely okay with of course. She didn’t strive to be perfect, she didn’t put those expectations on herself or allowed anyone in her life to expect that of her either. She was a good friend, a great daughter, well rounded student, hard worker, all of the things that really mattered she had checked off.

But man….had she fucked things up royally with you.

Here she was, thinking she could keep you both in a never ending loop of sex and awkward interactions, top it off with some uncomfortable conversations here and there that would most likely turn into screaming matches, and that was enough.

Even though she knew it wasn’t.

You were too good for that. You were too good for the fucked up cycle that she’d created for the two of you. You deserved so much more. You deserved the fucking world served on a silver platter, any and every good thing should’ve been handed to you the moment you asked for it. Ellie had made your life a living hell since you were a kid and yet you still went out of your way to be cordial with her, never letting that sweet persona of yours drop even for an asshole like her.

Ellie fucked up a lot, but she wasn’t an idiot.

She knew why she did what she did, she wasn’t unaware of her own actions. She didn’t need a therapist to read her to absolute filth to get the answers behind why you were so cruel, it was simple.

Ellie hated the way you made her feel.

She hated the thoughts she had of you. She hated the way you lingered in her mind, your voice playing over and over again in her head, giving her no room to escape the absolute lullaby that was you. She hated how much she felt for you, realizing just how much you’d been lingering in her mind before now, even if she didn’t even realize it.

She hated that she’d never thought about a girl the way she thought about you. She hated the way she yearned for your skin against hers. She hated the way you could walk into her bedroom right now, and she’d get on her knees and beg for forgiveness.

What she hated the most though? Was the look in your eyes the last time she was staring into them.

You looked….disgusted. Utterly appalled with Ellie’s behavior, shocked that she’d even think you’d let her touch you again.

Yeah. That one was one for the books.

Ellie didn’t even know you were capable of looking so put off by someone. You were always so kind, so understanding, and you’d welcomed her happily every time she tried going to you this summer.

It seemed she’d crossed a line that she couldn’t get back over.

She didn’t even think it was going to be that bad. Sure, maybe you’d be pissed off with her for a few days, but you never held a grudge. After a day or two, you were back to your normal, bubbly self. That’s how things normally was, that’s how they’d been over the course of the summer so far for the most part.

Not this time.

Ellie almost wondered if you’d give yourself some time away from her like you’d done in the past, locking yourself away in your bedroom until you were ready to come out again. She figured this was your way of decompressing, not for a second giving anymore thought to the fact that you were in fact decompressing from her.

She was shocked when she saw you roaming around the house the next morning, bright and early before either herself or your brother were awake.

In true Ellie fashion, she pretends like she doesn’t see you.

Mainly because she doesn’t really know what to make of the situation yet. She doesn’t know where you stand, how you’ll react towards her, and clearly you’re calling the shots in this situation now because how you’re handling this plays a big part in how Ellie will handle it.

That morning, she watches you from the corner of her eyes. You go on as if you’re the only one there, your headphones covering your ears as you hum softly to the music playing through them, a song Ellie can barely make out over the gentle sound of bacon and eggs sizzling in the pan you’re working on.

The sound of your sugary voice jumping back and forth between humming the melody of the song you’re listening to, and softly mumbling the lyrics makes Ellie’s heart jump. There’s something so domestic about seeing you this way, and Ellie can’t stop the way her mind drifts off to a place in the nearby future. A place where you’re wearing your cute pajamas, sock clad feet padding along the wooden floor as music plays softly throughout the kitchen, aiding you in your morning routine of making breakfast for both you and her. She imagines wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her chest as she presses loving kisses to your neck, the smell of your flowery shampoo filling her nose and making her head spin, hands toying with the soft material of your sleep shirt. She imagines resting her chin on your shoulder as she eyes whatever is it you’re making for the two of you, asking if she can help in any way. She imagines the way you sway against her, the feeling of your body alone making her feel complete, making her feel like the only place that could ever be called home is you-

The sound of your back door slamming loudly snaps her out of her homey day dreams of the two of you.

The sound makes her flinch, and she can see from her spot on the couch that in the time she was having silly little fantasies about you, you’d finished cooking, plated up your food, and retreated out to the back without saying a single word.

Not so much as a look was sent Ellie’s way from you that morning, which was a side of you that she’d never seen.

You tended to hide away from the world whenever you were angry or upset, keeping that side of yourself private rather than being open with the person that made you feel that way. Ellie was an expert in that, you’d ran away from her too many times to count within the time that she’d known you. She never truly saw you angry at her, or at anyone. You gave yourself time to burn off that anger and simmer down before returning back to the you that everyone was the most familiar with.

The week after the whole Abby situation was filled with moments like that. You lived your life as if Ellie didn’t exist. Gone were the annoyed little huffs you’d give her, or the bratty eye rolls that you’d make sure she’d see whenever she got on your nerves. Those were all things of the past. It was like Ellie was a ghost, living in a reality where she didn’t exist to you. Ellie could be on fire in the middle of your living room and you wouldn’t bat an eye, instead busying yourself with talking on the phone with your friends from college or texting Abby.

Yeah, that was the nail in the coffin with all of this.

Ellie would lay in her bed night after night, straining to listening to the sound of your soft giggles paired with Abby’s voice coming in through the speaker of your phone. Ellie quickly realized that she doesn’t think she’s ever heard you laugh that way with her.

Ever.

Ellie wasn’t an idiot. She was emotionally mature….for the most part. She knew that regardless of how she felt, she wronged you. Before the Abby thing, this entire summer had been filled with different occasions of her being a total dick to you, and you didn’t deserve any of that.

Ellie knew that if she was going to get anywhere with you, she needed to apologize first.

She does it about a week later. At that point it’s been the longest since she’s spoken to you the whole summer and she’s going slightly insane. It’s raining, so you all decided to stay in. She waited in her room, legs dangling off the edge of the bed as she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for you to get out of the shower and go back to your room.

The sound of the water turning off lets her know you’re finished. She gives you a moment, wanting you to be dressed by the time she goes over. After some time passes, she takes a deep inhale before she pushes herself up onto her feet so she can make your way to your bedroom.

It’s pathetic because she can’t remember the last time she was this nervous. She sure as hell wasn’t this nervous when she was sneaking into your room to get you off a few weeks ago. All she was doing was going to talk to you and she could hear her fucking heartbeat in her ear.

Soon she’s in front of your door, taking a deep inhale before her tattooed hand comes up to rap it.

You perk up at the sound, your eyes drifting over to your door. You furrow your brows in confusion, opening your messages to see if you’d missed any texts from your brother to prompt him to visit you in your room instead. You see you have no messages, for a moment wondering if you should get up and open it. On any other given day you probably would have, but the extra guest in your house made the likeliness of it being your brother go down to about half.

You sit up in your bed, facing your door before calling out. “Who is it?” You question wearily.

Your voice makes Ellie tense up, and she inhales deeply before she speaks. “I…it’s me…can we talk?” She breaths out, her nerves forcing her voice to go shaky, making her clear her throat once she’s spoken.

There’s silence on the other end, and Ellie isn’t entirely sure how to take it. She inhales deeply before speaking again. “I know I’ve been a dick but just…I can’t apologize through a door…come on” she pleads with you once more, only for her words to be in vain once she’s met with even more deafening silence.

It makes her stomach churn, and she knows she has limited options here. She blinks a few times before her hand wraps around the doorknob, checking to see if she’s able to twist it open. Once she feels the familiar feeling of the knob turning, she’s filled with a temporary sense of relief. “Fuck it…I’m coming it” she announces, turning the knob fully before pushing the door open.

She finds you on your bed, completely unbothered as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Ellie licks her lips as she takes you in, acting almost as if she wasn’t even in your bedroom, going about your business as you were prior to her being there.

“Can you just look at me when I’m talking to you? That’s all I’m asking for here” she begs, arms crossing over her chest as she stares down at your form in your bed.

Ellie thinks she’s dreaming when she finally hears a gentle huff leave your lips. You toss your phone to the side before pushing your blanket off your legs and move to sit up. You sit criss crossed as you give her an unamused look, a gentle frown on your lips as your eyes practically beg her to get on with what she has to say.

She blinked a few times in shock, her heart nearly beating out of her chest when she sees you’re finally looking at her. She inhales deeply before speaking again. “Look…I’m sorry, okay? For all of it. I’m sorry for being so shitty to you when we were kids and…and I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting this summer, you don’t deserve any of that shit. And I’m sorry for the Abby thing…she’s a fucking bitch but I shouldn’t have did what I did. And….and” she stutters, struggling to pinpoint where else she’s failed so she can apologize, the words she’s looking for hanging on the tip of her tongue as she runs her hand through her hair.

“And I’m sorry being so fucking mean to you all the time” she breaths out, her face flushed as she stares into your eyes, chest rising and falling as she comes down from her rant.

All you do is give her that same unamused look, let out a gentle sigh before moving to lay back down into your bed, taking your phone into your hand and going back to whatever you were doing prior.

“Cool. You can leave now” you hum out casually before turning on your side, tugging your blanket further over your shoulder, practically shielding you from her gaze.

Ellie is dumbfounded, like hanging agape as she stares at you in disbelief. She’d just poured her entire heart out to you, letting you in on the mental turmoil she’d been experiencing this past summer that was putting her quite literally out of her mind…

And you didn’t even care.

“Are you…are you fucking kidding me right now?” She scoffed out in utter shock, her hand going up to run through her auburn locks as she looked around your bedroom, almost as if she were looking for the hidden cameras that would prove this is all a sick joke.

“I just gave you the apology of my fucking life and all you have to say is…is cool??” She breaths out in disbelief, staring down at you laid comfortably on your bed, cuddled up beneath your plush blankets as if she weren’t even there.

Ellie watches as your eyes drift over to hers for only a minute before they’re settled back onto the soft glow emitting from your phone screen, a gentle sigh leaving your lips before you sigh.

“Thanks for apologizing. You can leave now” you dismiss her once again, yet another confirmation from your end that you certainly were not interested in what Ellie had to say.

Her brows furrow, green eyes staring angrily down at you, nostrils flared as she feels herself growing angrier and angrier. She doesn’t really think when she moves next, her anger is doing all the work for her.

You go from feeling the warmth of your blankets on your skin, to your bare legs being exposed to the cold air in your dim bedroom. It makes you gasp, your eyes immediately going up to Ellie who’s just yanked your blanket off of your body, staring down at you expectantly.

You were going to acknowledge her, whether you liked it or not.

You scoff, tossing your phone to the side before you swing your legs off of your bed, and stand up so you’re now face to face with the green eyed demon that had bene ruining your life since you were a young girl.

This needed to end now.

“You think that just because you barge in here and give me some half ass apology, that you’re suddenly entitled to my attention? To my forgiveness?” You question, words rolling off your tongue like venom. You don’t give her time to respond, your chest slowly rising and falling at a quicker pace as you feel yourself getting angrier and angrier by the second.

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot, Ellie? Do you seriously think I can’t see right through this little game you have? The second you realize I can give my time to someone else who’s actually worthy of it, you feel like you’re suddenly in the position to force me to acknowledge you. What about Hazel? Hm? Was I allowed to question you for the girl you were with? Or how about when she humiliated me in front of everyone multiple times, was I in the position to demand an apology?” You question her once more before you let out an unamused laugh, your hand coming up to tuck a stand of hair behind your ear before you inhale deeply.

“If you think that all the shit you’ve put me through will ever be undone by one sorry ass apology and the excuse of you being bad with your feelings, you’re gonna have a rude awakening Ellie” you finally sigh out gently, slipping past her and making your way to your bedroom door and opening it.

“Get out and don’t speak to me for the rest of the summer” you finalize, standing at the door as you wait for her to leave your bedroom.

Ellie doesn’t really know what to say, mainly because she’s never seen this side of you. You’re always so sweet, and quiet. Even after everything that she’d said and done to you, before this summer and after, you’d never said anything like this to her, or anyone for that matter.

The look in your eyes is what does it for her, it’s what proves to her you’re not just all bark and no bite, because you’re looking at Ellie like….

Like you’re disgusted by her.

You see a side of Ellie you’d never seen that night either, because Ellie is hot headed and has a horrible temper. You expected her to not go down without a fight, going back and forth with you until you were both blue in the face. In all honesty you had a list of things ready to throw back at her when you knew she’d refuse to leave at your first request.

But she doesn’t. She stares at you for a moment, green eyes studying your face and body intently as if she was going to say something. She doesn’t, all she does is storm out of your room, footsteps angry against your floorboards as she slips past you.

When she’s gone, you feel like you can finally breathe. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, shoulders that were once strong and confident slumping over when you let out a deep breath, one you’d seemingly held in the moment Ellie walked into your room. You tried to keep your composure around her, you’d rather die than show her how much control she had over you, how deeply she’d settled into your bones, made it nearly impossible to do anything or be anywhere without thinking of her.

Ellie was losing her mind, to say the least

You’d made yourself almost completely sparse throughout the spacious home ever since then. You’d leave the house before anyone woke up, and you’d come home after everyone went to sleep.

There was one night in particular however, where Ellie had decided to stay home from a party everyone was going out to. It was a sorry attempt at trying to talk to you again, but she could only hope that whatever you were out doing tired you out enough to at least give her a moment to hear her out. She remembers how dark the house was that night, how quiet it was. There was a blue-ish glow emitting from the large tv in your living room, the sound of the game controller clicking gently as she tapped away at the buttons. It was late, and she was slowly losing hope that you’d come home. She didn’t want to think about that much, because you not coming home only meant one thing, and Ellie’s confused little heart truly could not handle that mental image right now.

Sometime within the night she ends up drifting off to sleep, eyes growing heavy as the pause screen stares back at her, gentle music from the video game only aiding in lulling her to sleep.

The noise of the front door paired with the melodic sound of your soft giggles is what brings her from it, green eyes slowly blinking open as she hears you clumsily kick your boots off, the heavy material thudding against the wooden floorboards as you let out a gentle groan.

“Shit…fuck…” you giggle out softly as you brace against the closet door, lazily kicking your shoes into the closet before tugging your jacket off and shoving it onto a random hanger. Ellie can tell from the way you’re giggling and talking to yourself that you’re drunk, it makes her sit up, the girl rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she adjusts the hoodie hugging her body.

Her breath gets caught in her throat when she sees you stop in front of the living room, head tilting the side in confusion as you watch the girl sitting there in your living room. It doesn’t help that you look stunning either, there’s something about how messy your hair is, a few strands falling over your shoulder, others framing your face beautifully. The dress you’re wearing hugs your body perfectly, the color complimenting your skin tone so well it was almost like it was made for you.

She’s staring so hard she doesn’t realize that you’re taking to her.

“What?” She practically chokes out, the girl completely taken aback over the fact that you’re actually…speaking to her?

You have to hold back a giggle at her reaction. Maybe it was the fact that you were drunk, or that you’d had a great time with at the party you were at, but you were able to put your annoyance for Ellie to the side for just a moment so your curiosity could take over instead. You knew your brother was going to a party tonight, and Ellie skipping out on a night out and staying home was like a fish saying he preferred his fish tank over the big blue ocean.

Or…maybe you missed Ellie.

“I said…what are you doing here? You didn’t wanna go with Derek?” You breath out, slowly making your way over to the girl. Soon you’re standing over her as she sits on the couch, big green eyes staring up at you in childlike wonder. It’s almost endearing how dumbfounded she is over you doing something as simple as speaking to her.

If anyone told you Ellie would be acting like this with you a few months ago, you’d tell them to kick rocks.

Ellie’s head is spinning when you’re this close, because she can smell your perfume lingering from your skin…god your skin, you look so soft, so inviting and warm. Her memories grew fuzzier and fuzzier with each growing day, and she was almost forgetting that she had you the way she wanted you at one point, moaning underneath her, begging for her while her hands were given your skin to squeeze and hold however she pleased.

“I…I um…” she stuttered, unable to find the words to say. Even if she could, what was she supposed to tell you. Was she supposed to tell you the truth? That she’d stayed home to wait up for you? To get this exact moment that she so desperately wanted? However now that she had it she was acting like she’d never talked to a girl in her entire life.

You hum softly, giving her a nod as if you understood the nonsense she was speaking completely. “You should go to bed…it’s late” you mumble out as you lift your head and turn to look at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was well past five in the morning. You both needed to sleep.

That’s when Ellie sees it, the standing lamp in the living room is dull, but the warm glow allows her to make out the deep purple marks littering your pretty neck, a hungry mouth latching onto your skin and marking you for the world to see.

God, it makes Ellie feel fucking sick to see that shit.

She licks her lips, ready to speak, ready to ask about who those are from even though deep down she already knows, and she knows that even if you do tell her, it won’t make anything better.

But she can’t because you’re looking down at her again with those pretty eyes of yours, the remaining lip liner fading away from your lips, leaving a pretty red tint to your soft lips. It’s been kissed away and that drives Ellie even closer to the brink of insanity.

“Goodnight Ellie…” you hum out, voice soft and gentle as you give her a half smile before you stumble off to bed, sure to peel your dress off and tuck yourself into bed only to sleep off the remaining lust and liquor that lingered in your system, unable to remember anything that was said to her when you wake up.

That little glimpse of you, of how she remembers you is what forces Ellie to hang onto you even more, even after you demanded she stop speaking to you for the rest of the summer. A moment of softness between the two of you had her groaning, shoving her face into her pillow as she yearned for more of it, more of you.

It was psychological warfare, and you didn’t even know what you were doing to her.

She doesn’t expect for that to be a peace offering from your end. She knows it was a one off, it was simply a time and place sort of thing. You were too drunk and sleepy to remember the anger you had for Ellie, and you being the kind person you are, was worried about her going to bed at a reasonable time.

Ellie hangs onto that night though, because as delusional as it makes her sound, it gives her hope.

She thinks about it particularly when your brother is sat on the edge of her bed, a loud groan emitting from his lips as he falls back into the soft mattress.

“Dude what is going on with you? You’ve flaked on like…the last three parties” your brother complains, his head tilting back to look at his best friend.

He finds her deep in thought, the brunette sighing softly as she shrugs while staring up at the ceiling above her. “I dunno…I just…haven’t really been in the mood to go out.” She lies with a gentle sigh. Well…it wasn’t entirely a lie. She really didn’t feel like going out, however it was why she didn’t feel like going out that she was leaving out of her responses to her best friend.

Telling your brother that you’re the reason she didn’t want to go out wasn’t exactly the smartest idea.

Derek groaned softly before he propped himself up onto his palms, letting out a low groan before he shook his head.

“I really need you tonight man…If you don’t go then that means it’s just me again and Hazels being a bitch about you not coming, on top of that I’m pretty sure my little sister is coming and I’m seriously going to need some help keeping those two from killing each other-“ Ellie is quick to cut your brother off the second he mentions you. She perks up immediately, the girl sitting up from her bed and eyeing your brother intently.

“Your sister is going tonight?” She’s quick to ask, so quick in fact that it catches your brother off guard. He stares at her for a moment, silently blinking as he watches the girl before he nods slowly.

“I…yeah? Why wouldn’t she go?” He questions genuinely.

It was almost incredible how oblivious your brother was to the tension between you and Ellie.

Her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips before she speaks once more. “You know what…you’re right. I haven’t gone out in a while…” she nods slowly before she swings her feet over the bed, quickly going over to her closet and rummaging through her clothes to pick out an outfit. “Get out. I need to shower and start getting ready.” She says as she begins zooming throughout her room to get dressed.

Derek watches his best friend almost in a trance. He was ready to beg her to come out at least five more times before he got shut down and inevitably kicked out of her bedroom, but he was not at all expecting her to jump up at the mere mention of going out.

Huh…maybe she was just…feeling tired?

Ellie let’s put another sigh as she turns around, hands placed on her hips as she gives your brother an annoyed look as she shrugs her shoulders. “I said get out man” she says once more. Your words seemingly finally register in your brothers head as he gives a quick nod, quickly jumping up from her bed. “Right! Yes…yeah I’m going….we leave in an hour alright?” He reminds her with an excited grin before finally leaving the girls bedroom.

Ellie usually tries to put in her best effort when going out, wanting to look good for any one she’d happen to run into, that wasn’t out of the ordinary for her. But tonight? Knowing you’d be there? She found herself struggling to wear something good, something that would make her feel confident, something that….

Something you’d like.

She saw the way you looked at her whenever she showed some skin, the way your eyes lingered whenever her tattoos were on full display for the old to see. Your eyes would linger on her inked skin whenever she had them out, so she knew for a fact she needed to show those off tonight. She settles on a pair of baggy jeans that rest low on her hips, and a fitted t shirt that allowed a sliver of her hips to peak out from beneath it. She lets out a soft huff as she runs her fingers through her hair, making sure she was happy with her appearance in the mirror before she started making her way downstairs.

Tonight’s different, because instead of everyone meeting at your house, it’s just Derek standing in the kitchen as he works on some drinks to pregame with.

3 drinks to be exact.

Ellie hums out softly as she makes her way to the island he’s set up at, palms resting against the cool marble as she eyes the concoction your brother works on.

“Just the three of us tonight?” Ellie hums out as she grabs a bottle of tequila, eyeing the label before she sets it back down. Derek hums softly as he nods, pouring what he’s working on into three red solo cups.

“Yeah, everyone else is just gonna meet at the club…it’s easier that way” he explains before he passes Ellie one of the cups, bringing one to his own lips as well as he eyes his friend. “Hazels coming though…she’s been asking about you for weeks man” he smirks out as he takes a sip of the drink.

Ellie practically winces at the mention of the girls name, but plays it off as the drink getting to her instead. She lets out a low groan before she shrugs. “Yeah man I…I don’t think I’m feeling her anymore” she explains, taking another sip of her drink.

Derek raises his brows at the girls words before he chuckles softly. “Oh? That’s new. You were talking about her the entire drive down here…” he quips before he takes another sip. “Got your eye on someone else?” He questions, giving the girl time to respond.

That makes a chill run down Ellie’s spine, because it’s comical how aware yet oblivious your brother is to the entire situation. She opens her mouth to respond, on the brink of actually telling him and admitting to herself that it’s you she has her eyes on, it’s you that has her so absolutely torn up she can barely get out of bed and be productive during the day because of how much she’s fucked up. It’s all you and she can barely fucking function without-

The familiar patter of your feet against the stairs has her thoughts cut in half.

You’re humming gently to yourself, hair styled perfectly when you come into view, denim shorts hugging your frame, wrapping around your hips and thighs as if your body was the only one in mind when they were made. Your pink top is such a pretty, shimmer material, the light catches different patterns on it and it looks like you’re practically glowing. Your lips are glossy, shimmery and pretty, it makes Ellie’s head fucking spin.

God, she’s so obsessed with you.

You give Derek a small smile as you slip past Ellie as if she wasn’t even there, standing beside him as you reach out to point towards the remaining solo cup. “This one for me?” You question, Derek nods as he slides the cup towards you. “Yes ma’am. Made sure to use tequila instead of vodka tonight, didn’t want to upset the princess” he mocks, patting your head gently which makes you roll your eyes as you nudge him gently. “Vodkas fucking gross. You guys are insane for guzzling that shit” you sigh out softly before you take a sip of your drink, a gentle hum leaving your lips as you give a nod of approval. “It’s good, thanks” you give your brother a soft smile as you thank him before you take another sip.

A blanket of silence falls over the three of you, Ellie’s eyes are practically glued to you as she eyes you closely, taking in your every move as her eyes linger on yours. You’re trying your best not to give into it, because you’d be able to feel those green eyes boring holes into your face even if the room were pitch black.

You let out a soft sigh before you quickly throw back the rest of your drink, not wanting to prolong things anymore or give Ellie any openings to ask you any questions in front of your brother.

“I’ll get the uber tonight, you guys can buy me drinks at the club” you hum out casually as you tug your phone out of your back pocket, mindlessly tucking your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you tap along your screen to call for the uber. Ellie’s eyes never leave your lips after this, zeroing in on the gloss painting your bottom lip while you focus on your screen.

God, tonight was going to be long.

It all happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Ellie is sat in the back of the uber with your brother, listening to you and him chatting back and forth with the uber driver. You were both always so friendly in that sense, sharing a sort of charm that she’d only ever really seen in the two of you. You were almost like twins in that sense, sharing that same charismatic, friendly, almost annoyingly likable personality. The moment either of you walked into a room, all eyes were always on either of you.

Then the next, you’re trailing behind her and your brother as they lead you both to the rest of their friends at the club. Ellie is so locked in on the idea of you, thinking of how she’d be able to get a moment with you, that she hardly realizes Hazel is squealing and practically jumping out of her spot in the booth and into her arms.

“Ellie! Where have you been!” She whines softly, pulling back and practically smashing her lips against Ellie’s before she’s given a chance to respond.

Ellie’s eyes go wide at the gesture, completely caught off guard by her forwardness. She places her hands on her hips, gently tugging her off of her body as she breaks the kiss, which is only met with an annoyed whine from Hazel. Ellie catches onto it, making out the image of the girls expression through the dim lighting of the club. She licks her lips, staring into the girls eyes for a moment before she turns her head to find you, suddenly only concerned with whether or not you just saw that.

When she does spot you, your eyes are already on the pair from your spot in the booth, snuggled between two of Ellie’s friends that are far too concerned with taking shots and laughing about whatever the hell they were talking about to notice the pouting girl in between them.

The moment you realize Ellie catches your gaze, you’re gently tapping the shoulder of your brothers friend, giving him a gentle smile as you ask him to scoot out of the booth so you could get out, wanting to head to the bar for a drink.

Ellie’s eyes linger on yours as she watches you leave, slowly losing you as you slip in between the crowded club to make your way to the bar. Hazel notices too, whining softly as her manicured fingers cup Ellie’s face, pulling her back to look at her instead of you. “What are you looking at? Didn’t you miss me?” She questions once more, the girl clearly getting more annoyed with the lack of response from Ellie’s end.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows as she lets out a sigh, looking away from the girl for a moment before she opens her mouth to speak. “Look Hazel…I’ve been thinking a lot and I just feel like-“ Hazel cuts her off with a soft huff as she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around Ellie’s neck as she leans in to press another kiss to her lips. “You just need another drink. I’ll ask Derek to grab us something, then we can dance, okay baby?” She promises with a reassuring smile before leaning in and pressing another kiss to her lips, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before she set off to find your brother.

Ellie let’s put an annoyed groan, tattooed hands running down her face as she watches Hazel completely disregard what she was saying, more so interested in following whatever narrative she had instead.

Why the fuck did Ellie ever like that girl to begin with.

Ellie tries her hardest to find you all night, but for some reason looking for you in that club was like trying to find a needle in the biggest haystack ever. Between Hazel clinging to her like a fly on a trap, to her friend group trying their best to catch her up on what she’d missed the last few outings they’d been on, Ellie felt like she was being pulled in ten different directions when all she wanted was a moment alone with you.

Ellie sees a fleeting moment when Hazel excuses herself to go to the bathroom and most of her friends have either found their way on the dance floor, or to the bar. Unfortunately for her, she’s already pretty tipsy at that point. Between her friends and Hazel, everyone wanted to show how much they’d missed her by showering her in alcohol.

Who knows, maybe the liquor is what she needed to finally face you.

She stumbles out of the booth you’d all been sat at, sighing softly as she made her way through the sea of people in search of you. She starts by looking for at the bar, then near the bathroom line. When she finds you’re neither there nor here, she inhales deeply as she makes her way to the dance floor.

Ellie wonder how it had been so hard to find you earlier, chalking it up to you most likely hiding from her, because as soon as she makes her way onto the dance floor, it’s almost like there’s a spotlight on you.

Your shirt dances in the multi-colored nights of the club, making you look almost magical. Your body moves like water to the music, hair swaying against your back as you put your hands up into the air and sway your hips without a single care in the world.

Ellie’s mouth goes dry at the sight of you, her drunk brain wishing for nothing more than to be able to call someone as beautiful as you, hers.

She licks her lips, walking into your direction. Her arms reach out for you, her hand coming down to rest against your waist as she leans in to talk into your ear over the loud music.

“Hey…can we um…can talk?” She shouts, giving your waist a gentle squeeze as if to give you a silent attempt at getting you to come with her.

You furrow your brows when you feel someone approach you, already exhausted from fighting off countless idiots that tried to dance with you. You just wanted to be alone and enjoy the music as if no one was watching. The drinks were good, the music was even better, and after how this summer had been going? Some alone time would do you good.

But Ellie clearly had other plans.

You want to ignore her, you want to put her in her place like you did in your bedroom that night. She deserves it, you know she deserves it, she knows she deserves it, and it’s about time you stand up for yourself within this fucked up situation you’d found yourself in with Ellie.

But that look in her pretty green eyes is so damn pitiful, you aren’t sure you can deny her anymore. After all, there’s still that little piece of you that’s so damn weak for Ellie.

You let out a gentle sigh, turning to look into the girls eyes before you give her a nod, knowing that denying her will only make her fight harder. You nod your head towards one of the stairs of the club, leading her up them.

Soon you two reach the rooftop patio of the club. The vibe is a bit less stuffy, and you spot an empty sofa near a corner where you think is a good spot for you two to speak.

You let out a gentle sigh as you sit down, patting the spot next to you for the girl to sit down.

The rooftop faces the beach, the cool sea breeze wafting against your warm skin. It’s a nice contrast from the hot, sticky club. If it wasn’t for the awkward circumstances, you think it would be a sweet place to bring Ellie up to.

You’re the first to speak despite Ellie asking to talk to you, a soft hum leaving your lips before the words leave your mouth. “Didn’t know you were still with Hazel….s’bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?” You mumble out softly, your leg crossing over your knee as you wrap your arms around your own arms, staring out at the crashing waves before you.

Ellie blinks a few times at your words, the girl still a bit dumbfounded that she somehow got you out here to even speak to her in the first place. She doesn’t at all expect you to speak first, but your words make her frown gently.

“We aren’t together…we never were” she mumbles out softly, ignoring your other words as she lets out a gentle sigh.

“I don’t know how many times you want me to say sorry…I know I was wrong, okay? If I could take it back, I would” she sighs out, her back slumping into the couch as she spreads her jean clad legs, hands running down her face as she lets out an irritated sigh.

You scoff gently before you finally look over at her. “Even if I do forgive you Ellie, what do you want from me? Am I supposed to believe that after years of making my life hell, you suddenly give a fuck about me? Can’t you see how this is a little hard to believe?” You explain gently, your anger clearly having subsided since the last time you both spoke about this.

You sigh softly before you turn away from her, speaking once more. “You just want me because you can’t have me. You’ll get over this the second the summers over” you say to her, sounding almost as if you were trying to convince yourself more than you were her.

Ellie perks up at this, staring at the side of your face as you refuse to look at her. “You can’t be serious” she deadpans, the girl sitting up and resting her elbows on her knees as she cranes her neck down to look at you.

“I don’t get it either, okay? You’ve always been this…thing in my life that was so out of touch. I never even thought to think of you that way no matter how fucking irresistible you are. I knew crossing that line wouldn’t get me anywhere good but…fuck I didn’t think it would be this bad” she explains, her own eyes scanning out onto the rolling seas out on the horizon, giving herself a moment to think over her words.

She licks her lips for a moment before she sighs, finally looking back at you.

“What I do know, is that…I can’t get enough of you. And I’m willing to do whatever I can to prove that to you” She practically begs, her words filled with a sense of something you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard from Ellie before. It’s something mixed with desperation, pleading, honesty….

Longing

It makes your stomach turn and your chest burn with something for her you’d been ignoring the entire summer, your entire life even. You inhale deeply as you finally state into her green eyes that are staring desperately into yours, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you finally speak. “Anything?” You question, your voice above a whisper as the word leave your mouth carefully.

It all happens in a blur, one moment Ellie is nodding eagerly at your question, the next, your dragging her out of the club, slipping past the mountain of sweaty people and quickly catching a cab, and the next thing Ellie knows…

She’s being dragged up to your bedroom.

Ellie feels like her head is spinning when you press your body against hers, soft mouth molding against hers as your hands wrap loosely around her neck. You taste of cherry lipgloss and mint, your soft tongue rubbing against Ellie’s makes her heart swell because she wasn’t sure she’d ever get the privilege of feeling you this way again.

Her hands roam your body, fingers sliding into the belt loops of your shorts as she pulls you flush against her body, needing desperately to feel you against her in every way possible.

You sigh against her, turning the both of you around as you begin leading her back towards your bed. She feels your palms press against her chest, forcing her back so she’s now sitting on your bed.

The sight of you above her makes her head swing, it makes Ellie tug her bottom lip between her teeth as her hands slide around the backs of your knees, pulling you closer as she spreads her legs for you to stand between them. “Missed you so much baby….more than you know…” she sighs out, eyes never leaving yours as one of her hands slides against your top, pushing it up as she presses her lips against your hips, leaving the lightest kisses.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch her. Her stare is intense, the look in her eyes telling you everything that you ever needed to know without a single word.

She was yours for the taking.

You inhale deeply as your hand comes down to Ellie’s hair, running your fingers through the silky strands for a moment before you tuck a strand behind her ear gently, tilting your head to the side as you watch her nip and suck at your skin.

“Such a pretty girl….” You hum out softly, your words making Ellie’s eyes flutter shut as they earn a gentle squeeze to your hips, her tongue swirling against your skin as her teeth come down to tug at the waistband of your jean shorts.

“But you need to be taught a lesson, Ellie….” You finish, words trailing off as they hang in the air. They excite Ellie, despite not knowing the extent of them. The fact that you have her here alone is enough for her, and she’ll do whatever the hell you want her to, to keep this going.

“Do whatever you want to me…I told you…I’ll do anything for you” she sighs out almost obediently, needy hands gripping your hips tighter just to keep you close.

Your hand goes from gently stroking her hair to taking a fistful of it, tugging it back to pull her away from your skin, forcing her to look up at you. It earns a needy whine from the girl, pink tongue darting out to lick her lips as she stares up at you almost in awe, watching as you handled her with a sense of wonder in her eyes.

“Good….because I don’t plan on being nice…” you sigh out softly, letting go of her hair roughly before you leave her for a moment, walking off to your drawer to grab something. “Lord knows you weren’t….” You mumble out softly, more so to yourself than to the girl.

Ellie hears it though, and it makes her wince with how badly she’d been treating you.

You come back soon enough, not giving Ellie enough time to dwell on things, on you. She doesn’t see anything in your hands at first, only that you’d slipped something into your back pocket. She can’t focus on that much, not when you’re straddling her lip and settling down on her. It makes her sigh with content, the girl eagerly pressing her lips back to yours now that you’re back with her.

She lets her tongue play with yours, the kiss is messy and needy and Ellie’s hands roam your body like it’s the last time she’ll ever have you, the girl desperately wanting to imprint this very feeling in her brain so she’d never have to go without it. She feels herself growing wetter and wetter by the second, panties clinging to her core as she feels too grinding against her lap, kissing her so sweetly, playing with her so nicely, she felt she could cum from it all alone.

Soon you’re pushing her back into your bed, forcing her to lay down against your pillows. The smell of your floral shampoo makes her head spin, it feels like she’s died and gone to heaven at this point. You’re on top of her, and she’s in your bed in your room and she isn’t sure she’s ever been happier to be in a girls bed.

Your hands come down, tugging at her t shirt before you pull her up a bit, pulling it off her body and tossing it somewhere in your bedroom, leaving her top half completely bare. She doesn’t care, she’d have you undress her any day. Your hands come down again, grabbing either one of hers that are rested firmly on your hips. You remove them, taking them both and holding them above her head, your hand keeping them bonded by her wrist. She doesn’t pay much mind to it, simply enjoying the feeling of your lips against hers.

Soon she’s getting antsy, and she groans as she fights against your grip. “Lemme touch you baby…need to feel you…” she groans against your mouth before she’s pushing her tongue back against yours. She feels you smirk against her lips before you sigh, one of your hands leaving her wrist for a moment, going to your back pocket and pulling something out. It’s dim in your room, the only lighting coming from the small lamp on your bedside table, so she can’t see much. All she does know, is soon she feels a soft, silky material running along her wrist that makes her shiver. She feels you tying something around her wrist, firmly creating a knot so she’s unable to move them even more so than when your hands were holding them.

She watches as you finally pull away from her, staring up at you as you straddle her waist. The look of confusion on her face makes you giggle, your hand coming down to gently trace the frown in her brows with a soft hum. “I told you, you needed to learn your lesson, Ellie….girls who treat other girls like you, don’t get things so easily…” you explain, your lips coming down to latch onto Ellie’s nipple, tongue swirling around the little bud and making the girl moan loudly as she arches her back, forcing more of her into your mouth.

You bite down onto it gently, making her whine softly before you let go of it with a pop, humming softly as your thumb comes down to flick her wet nipple from side to side for a moment before you move onto the other, giving it the same attention as the first.

“You think you can just come and go as you please…playing with me when it’s convenient for you…but that’s not how this works” you hum softly, every other word interrupted by a kiss as you make your way down Ellie’s body. She’s a moaning mess, wiggling and bucking her hips into you as she shakes her head eagerly. “That’s…that’s not it at all! I promise…fuck…I like you…I like you so much baby, you’re not like those other girls. I fucked up so bad with you, and I’m sorry” she pleads with you.

She’s only met with a soft hum as you undo her jeans, tugging them off and tossing them somewhere else in your room, sighing softly when you spot the damn spot on her panties. You’re settled between her legs now, thumb drawing small circles into her inner thighs as your other hand gently tugs her panties to the side.

“I know baby…I can’t give into you easily regardless though…you understand, don’t you?” You asked gently, watching her for a moment before you turn your attention back to her sopping wet cunt.

“Jesus Ellie…you’re so wet baby…this all for me?” You ask her gently, your finger coming down to gently rub her angry clit. This makes her moan loudly, the girls head tossing back as her hips grind into your touch, eager for more of what you’re giving her.

“Fuck…yeah…s’all for you baby…no one else” she breaths out, staring down at you with needy eyes as her hands tug at the restraints you have her tied up by.

You hum softly, nodding slowly as your fingers rub slow circles into her clit before you bring your face closer to where you knew she needed you most. “Poor thing…why don’t I help you out a bit, hm?” You question, spreading her legs further as you stare at her for a moment before you latch your lips onto her clit, sucking harshly.

The moan that rips through her chest is pornographic, the girls back arching almost painfully as she melts into the feeling for your tongue working on her clit.

“Fuck…that’s it…fuck don’t stop baby…doing so well for me” it’s almost comical how her dominating words make your stomach coil despite the clear power dynamic that you’ve set up between the two of you. You moan softly into her sopping wet cunt, tongue lapping up her juices as your hands squeeze her thighs, keeping them apart for you.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty down there baby…you don’t know how often I…fuck…think about you like this” she admitted with a whine, staring down at you as her hips rolled against you, the girl practically riding your face as you took whatever she gave you.

But that wouldn’t do, would it?

Ellie’s moans grew louder, her rhythm getting sloppy as she tugged at her restraints. She was babbling incoherently and you knew for a fact she was getting close.

“Come on baby…take it…fuckin’ take it” she whined, brows furrowing as she stared down at you, eyes never leaving the sight in front of her as she bit down on her bottom lip so hard she was sure to draw blood.

It was almost painful for you to break away from her, wanting desperately to make her cum on your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t give in so easily, not yet at least.

Ellie let’s put a pathetic whine when you pull away when she’s right at the cusp of falling over into the pool of her orgasm, hips bucking into nothing as she hides her face in her arm. “Fuck…why’d you stop I was…mm…I was so close” she whined as her hips rolled with need against the air, the poor thing searching for anything to give her the release she so desperately needed.

You hummed softly as you crawled up her body, finally giving Ellie the chance to see that you were still fully clothed and she was completely bare before you. She moaned softly when your legs came down to straddle her naked body, the girl staring up at you with needy eyes as you gave her a smirk, hair framing your face as you ran your fingers along her nipples before giving them a gentle pinch, earning a needy whine from the girl.

“You didn’t seriously think I’d give it to you that easily, did you?” You giggle softly before you hum, leaning down and catching Ellie’s lips in a messy kiss. She moans loudly against you as she tastes herself, her pussy fluttering around nothing as she welcomes your lips willingly.

She whines when you break the kiss, chasing your mouth which she fails miserably at due to the restraints.

“You’re a smart girl Ellie…use that big brain of yours” you hum out softly, your words only earning a whine from the girl beneath you.

You hum softly, leaning down and giving her one more kiss before you crawl off of her body. Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, watching as you slowly tug your tank top up and over your head, leaving your top half bare. You then work on your denim shorts, tugging them off with your panties and licking them to the side, leaving you bare just like Ellie.

She’s staring at you like a woman starved, eyes eating up every inch of your body as she licks and bites at her lips.

God she wish she could touch you.

“Untie me baby, lemme touch you…I’ll make you feel so good” she begs, tugging at the ribbon wrapped around her wrists as she watches you return to the bed, straddling her body. She has to bite back a moan at the feeling of your soft, naked body settling on top of hers. The feeling of your skin against hers alone is enough to make her cum.

“You hum softly as you shake your head, scooting back for a moment before you take Ellie’s right leg, tugging it up for a moment. You take the opportunity to settle your pussy right on top of here, letting her leg rest against your shoulder. You smirk softly as you reach down to rub her clit, hissing softly at how wet she still was.

“Stayed so wet for me baby…I know you’ll enjoy this” you tease the girl, disregarding her pleas of being cut from her restraints as you spread her lips, giving you the opportunity to press your clit right up against hers.

The feeling has Ellie’s words getting caught in her throat, because she’s no longer focused on g being cut loose. Now all she can think about is the feeling of your cunt sliding against hers.

“Fuck….feels so good baby…so fucking good” she whines out, eyes rolling back into her head as she watches the way your hips skillfully work against hers.

You moan with her, plump lips pressing along her calf as your own eyes flutter shut. You’re able to stop the act for a moment, simply enjoying the pleasure you got from riding Ellie’s pussy. One of your hands came down to pinch her nipple, which earns a loud, pathetic moan from Ellie.

“You’re so pretty when you’re not a bitch…prettiest girl ever” you moan softly, hips rolling against hers as you drive both of you closer to your orgasm.

Ellie nods eagerly at your words, accepting the compliment and the insult all in one. “M’so sorry baby…I’ll never do it again…I’ll treat you so good if you’ll let me..I fucking promise” she moans loudly, her own hips rolling to match your rhythm.

Her words make you moan loudly, because she’s practically begging for it, begging for you to give her a chance.

You weren’t sure you’d ever hear such words from Ellie.

“You get so stupid when you wanna cum…don’t you baby? Promising things you don’t mean” you whine out as you grip her thigh firmly, picking up the pace as you chase your orgasms.

Ellie shakes her head wildly, shaking her head as her green eyes go wide. “I’m not lying! I…fuck….baby I…I think I…” her words get chopped up by her moans. The pleasure is too much, and she feels tears prickling at her eyes as the feeling grows closer and closer. It’s overwhelming and Ellie is sure she’s never cried while getting fucked but she…she can’t handle this…it’s all…you’re too.

“I…fuck I love you!” She practically screams out as she cums hard against your pussy, her body shaking beneath you as she lets go completely.

You gasp loudly at her words, your own eyes going wide for a moment before it all slips away from you, your orgasm taking over as it forces your eyes to roll back in your head, your neck falling back as you ride your orgasm out against her, practically using the girl beneath you as you slowly grind against her to finish things out for the both of you.

You’re both breathing hard, the girl beneath you an absolute wreck. Ellie’s cheeks are flushed, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat as she stares up at you with hazy eyes, chest rising and falling as you both sit there in silence.

You struggle to catch your breath for a moment before you reach forward, a gentle whine leaving Ellie’s lips as your clit brushes against her sensitive one. You undo the knot on her wrists, finally giving her the opportunity to be free before you crawl off of her body, moving to lay down next to her.

The magnitude of what was said, what was done, fills the air of your room. It’s thick, and it almost makes it hard to breath as you both lay there for a moment. Ellie lays there with you, staring into your eyes as she cuddles into your pillow. You expected her to leave as she always does, this was your get back, and you were slowly accepting this being the end of it all once it was over.

But she never left.

“I meant it, you know” she finally breaks the silence, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. She licks her pink lips before she sighs softly.

“I know it’s fucking weird…and out of nowhere…but I think it’s sort of…always been there” she explains further, hating the lack of a response that comes from you as she pours her heart out once again.

Good things in life never came easy, and you were as good as they fucking came. Ellie should’ve known things couldn’t be handed to her so easily when it came to you

“I get it…if you don’t want to take things further with me. It’s weird how I’ve gone about things, and I don’t blame you for not wanting me-“ she doesn’t expect to be cut off by the feeling of your soft lips. If she was being completely honest, she didn’t think she’d ever feel your lips against after tonight.

Yet here you were, kissing her.

She doesn’t take long to return it, her tattooed hand coming down and tugging your waist closer so your body is pressed against hers. Her hand comes down to tug at your thigh, pulling it over your body to keep you even closer.

“It’ll be weird…but not being with you is gonna be even weirder” you explain with a soft sigh before you finally pull away, staring at her with your brows furrows gently.

“You’re gonna do everything you can to make it up to me though…for being so mean” you tease her, and Ellie is nodding eagerly at that. “Whatever you want. Seriously” she urges. Her eagerness makes you giggle.

You sigh out softly as you tug your plush blankets over your bodies, pulling the girl down and pressing her face against your chest. She lets out a sigh of relief at the gesture, her entire body relaxing more than it has probably the entire summer.

All of this just felt so…right.

Ellie feels herself drifting off to sleep, eyes growing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Ellie?” Your voice is soft and quiet, tugging the girl between sleep and wake as she gives a small hum of response.

“I love you too…” you whisper softly, barely loud enough for hear, but she does regardless.

It’s when she hears that, that Ellie knows despite all the bullshit she’d caused….

It was all worth it

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #tlou part 2

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