#it's three a.m I should shut up and go to bed

[cuteniarose]

Nothing like a long talk with my mom about my dad to make me realise just how much of the Most Fucked Up Family is just blatant shameless projection on my part

[holyblonded]

family bonding day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader

summary: it’s family day in the putellas-rios household, possibly the most important one

warnings: talk of childhood trauma, violence

notes: this was in fact written in one day after yall inspired me. thank you to the anon that requested the older sister estrella hcs 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Alexia sighed as the warm morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bed. She was perfectly comfortable, her head resting against the soft pillow, a warm weight pressed against her chest. She tilted her head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto Olga’s hair, listening to the gentle chirping of birds outside.

Off days were always so peaceful… until 8:47 a.m.

Alexia cracked open one eye and turned her head to the alarm clock on the nightstand. 8:46:59 a.m.

She groaned, shutting her eyes again. “Why me, God?”

Like clockwork, the bedroom door flew open with a dramatic slam, revealing you in all your chaotic glory dressed in your oversized elephant onesie, your special blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cape.

Olga, who hadn’t even stirred, simply lifted one arm in invitation, blindly patting the empty space between her and Alexia. Without hesitation, you sprinted toward the bed and launched yourself onto it with an ungraceful thump, landing squarely between them.

Alexia grunted at the impact, her peaceful morning shattered, while you smugly snuggled into Olga’s side, sticking your tongue out at Alexia like a brat.

“It’s like clockwork with you,” Alexia grumbled, rubbing her face as if she could physically wipe away her exhaustion.

“You love me,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

Olga hummed sleepily, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer. “Mmm… you’re warm,” she muttered, voice still thick with sleep.

Alexia sighed, resigning herself to the fact that there was no going back to sleep now. Instead, she ran a hand through your tangled hair before groaning, “We should get up and make breakfast.”

“Nooo,” you whined, nuzzling further into Olga, who chuckled but didn’t protest.

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Fine, but if I start cooking without you, I’m making that horrible dry toast you hate.”

Your eyes snapped open immediately, and you bolted upright. “I’m up.”

Olga laughed, stretching lazily before rolling out of bed. “Come on, let’s go feed the gremlin.”

In the kitchen, the three of you split up the breakfast duties. Alexia was on eggs and toast, Olga was flipping pancakes, and you, somehow, somehow, had been entrusted with smoothie duty. A terrible, terrible mistake.

It started well enough. You threw in some bananas, strawberries, and yogurt, tossing in a handful of spinach to make it healthy (because Olga was watching you like a hawk). But the moment Alexia turned her back, things took a turn for the worse.

“Why is there cocoa powder in the smoothie?” Alexia asked, arms crossed, staring at the countertop.

“It’s an experiment,” you said nonchalantly.

“Why is there peanut butter?”

“…Enhancing the flavor profile?”

Olga peeked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow, a quick whiff of it made her subtly gag. “Why does it look like swamp water?”

You scoffed. “Have some faith.”

Just as you reached for the blender lid, Alexia caught sight of what you were doing.

“Wait—”

WHIRRRRRR!

You had forgotten to secure the lid properly. The force of the blender sent smoothie splattering everywhere, onto the counter, onto the cabinets, onto you.

Olga let out a loud snort of laughter, flipping a pancake without missing a beat.

Alexia groaned, rubbing her temples. “This is why we don’t let you use kitchen appliances.”

You stood there, covered in smoothie, blinking as a piece of spinach slowly slid down your cheek.

“Well,” you said, licking a bit of smoothie from the corner of your mouth. “Tastes good, though.”

Alexia sighed, grabbing a dish towel to start cleaning. Olga, meanwhile, was wheezing with laughter as she handed you a paper towel. “You’re never living this down.”

“I regret nothing.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “You’re cleaning the kitchen.”

“Fine, but I’m still drinking my smoothie.”

And so, despite the mess, breakfast continued, laughter filling the kitchen, teasing remarks exchanged between bites of food, and Alexia wondering, not for the first time, how she ended up with the two most chaotic people in her life.

The supermarket was busy, but that didn’t stop you from treating it like your personal playground. Feet firmly planted on the bottom rack of the shopping cart, you held onto the handlebar and pushed off with a dramatic lean forward, sending yourself rolling down the aisle with a whoosh.

Olga trailed somewhere behind, casually browsing the shelves like she had all the time in the world, while Alexia was on a mission, laser-focused, determined, and already regretting not leaving both of you and Olga in the car.

“Can you please act like a normal person?” Alexia huffed, reaching out to grab the back of the cart just as you went to launch yourself again.

You grinned at her, standing up properly but not letting go of the cart. “Define normal.”

“Not this.” She gestured vaguely at your entire being, then exhaled sharply when you suddenly veered the cart toward a display of stacked cans.

“Relax, Mami, I got this,” you assured her.

Alexia didn’t look convinced. “No, you don’t.”

Meanwhile, Olga had completely disappeared, having mysteriously slipped off while neither of you were paying attention.

Alexia noticed first. “Where did Olga go?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. One second she was here, and then poof.”

Alexia pressed her fingers to her temples, inhaling deeply like she was summoning patience. “Great.”

You were greatly enjoying being a menace. Every time Alexia turned her back, you tossed something unnecessary into the cart, chocolate bars, a massive bag of marshmallows, a bottle of the most expensive olive oil just to see if she’d notice. She did.

“Put it back,” she ordered, pulling the olive oil out without even looking.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” you pouted, dramatically tossing it onto the nearest shelf (which was not where it belonged).

Alexia gave you a look but said nothing. Instead, she continued checking off items on her mental list, marching forward with determination. You trailed beside her, still pushing the cart, still goofing off.

That was when you felt it— tiny arms suddenly wrapping around your legs, squeezing tight. You blinked and looked down.

A little girl, no older than five or six, clung to you like a koala, staring up at you with wide, starstruck eyes. “Oh my gosh, it’s really you!” she squeaked, practically vibrating with excitement.

Your heart melted instantly. Squatting down to her level, you smiled warmly. “Hey there, pequeña, what’s your name?”

“Luna!” she chirped, eyes shining. “I watch all your games! You’re my favorite! You’re so cool, and you do all those tricks, and I told my mamá I wanna play just like you!”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. “No way, you’re making me blush.”

Luna giggled, bouncing on her heels. “You’re even cooler in person! I’m supposed to see you play next week!”

Alexia, who had turned around at the commotion, stopped in her tracks. Olga, who had just reappeared, watched the interaction with soft eyes.

Luna’s mom appeared moments later, slightly out of breath. “Luna! You can’t just run off like that!”

“Mamá, look! It’s her!” Luna pointed at you with pure glee.

Her mom’s expression shifted from exasperation to gratitude as she looked at you. “I’m so sorry, she just ran the moment she saw you.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “No worries at all, she’s amazing.”

Luna tugged at your wrist, eyes hopeful. “Can we take a picture together?”

“Of course!”

Her mom pulled out her phone while you posed with Luna, making sure she had the biggest grin. Before she could leave, you slipped off one of your bracelets, a simple woven one you always wore, and gently tied it around her tiny wrist.

Her eyes went huge. “For me?”

“For you,” you confirmed. “Now you have to score lots of goals with it, okay?”

“I will!”

After another round of thank-yous, Luna skipped back to her mom, still clutching her wrist like it was the most precious thing in the world.

As they walked away, you stood back up, feeling a warmth in your chest.

Alexia and Olga were already looking at each other, silently melting at the interaction.

“You’re such a softie,” Olga teased, nudging you as she passed.

You scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alexia smirked. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

With everything finally in the cart (and only some extra treats smuggled in under Alexia’s radar), the three of you made your way to checkout, ready for your picnic— your antics forgotten, at least for now.

Well, until Alexia saw the massive bag of marshmallows at the bottom of the cart.

“Are you serious?”

“What? You can’t have a picnic without marshmallows!”

Alexia sighed while Olga laughed at her partner’s reaction. You just grinned, knowing full well that, despite her protests, Alexia wouldn’t make you put them back.

Before every picnic, every day off, every excuse you could find, you made sure to come back here.

Your old neighborhood hadn’t changed much: same narrow streets, same corner stores with faded signs, same familiar faces lingering outside their apartments. But right in the heart of it, where an abandoned lot used to be, now stood the youth center you built with your first paycheck.

One of the many reasons Alexia started monitoring your purchases like a hawk.

“You spent your first paycheck on this?” she had asked back then, looking at the blueprints in disbelief.

And you had simply nodded, not a hint of hesitation. “They deserve it.”

Because you remembered what it was like, what it was like to grow up here, to play street ball because there was nowhere else to go, to see the things kids shouldn’t see. Robberies. Fights. Stabbings. You had been one of the lucky ones, a neighbor, who knew a friend that knew a friend, had gotten you a shot at La Masia. But not every kid had a miracle like that. So you built this place to be that miracle.

When you pulled up outside, the place was already bustling— kids playing on the small pitch, some working on art projects in the shaded patio, a couple of the older ones chatting by the entrance. Upstairs was a place for older teen to have access to tutors, computers, and everything they needed.

The second you stepped out of the car, a wave of excited voices filled the air.

“She’s here!”

“Estrella!”

You laughed as a small group of kids ran straight for you, arms flailing, almost knocking you over as they hugged you. “Whoa, whoa, I just got here! Let me breathe!”

Alexia and Olga trailed behind, watching with soft smiles as you ruffled hair and exchanged high fives.

You made your way inside, checking in with some of your older neighbors who helped run the place. Mrs. Rivera, who handled the tutoring sessions, Mr. López, who kept the rec room stocked, and Señora Valdez, who made sure no kid ever left hungry.

“You’ve been eating enough?” Mrs. Rivera asked, narrowing her eyes at you like she knew the answer.

You grinned sheepishly. “Of course.”

“Don’t lie to me, hija.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but Alexia cut in. “She hasn’t.”

Mrs. Rivera tsked disapprovingly, smacking your arm lightly. “Ay, Estrella, you need to take care of yourself.”

You winced dramatically. “Betrayal, Ale. Betrayal.”

Alexia just smirked. Olga laughed.

Before you could escape more scolding, a group of kids from the pitch ran up to you. “Come play with us!”

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “Y’all just want to embarrass me.”

They giggled, clearly unbothered. “You scared?”

You scoffed. “Never.”

A makeshift game started quickly, the kids eager to take you on. You played with a mix of effort and amusement, pretending to struggle whenever they tried to steal the ball, exaggerating your movements like you were really working hard.

And then you noticed him.

A quiet little boy, standing on the edge of the pitch, watching but not playing.

You knew the look. You recognized it. You dribbled the ball over to him, stopping just in front of where he stood. “Hey, you wanna play?”

He hesitated, looking down at his shoes.

You crouched slightly, tilting your head. “I could use a goal scored on me… but I dunno, you think you could do it?”

His eyes flicked up to yours, uncertain.

You took a step back, tapping the ball toward him. “Just one shot.”

Slowly, he took a step forward, nudging the ball toward the goal. His movements were hesitant, but the moment it rolled past you and into the net, his whole face lit up.

You gasped dramatically, hands on your head. “No way! You scored on me?! That was incredible!”

Without thinking, you scooped him up and tossed him lightly in the air. He let out a surprised laugh, eyes crinkling with joy.

“You’re a superstar, pequeño!” you cheered, spinning him once before setting him back down.

The other kids immediately crowded him, patting his back and hyping him up. He looked overwhelmed for a second, but then, he smiled.

Alexia and Olga, standing off to the side, exchanged a knowing look. Pride. Love. Something unspoken between them.

Eventually, after one more round of hugs, you said your goodbyes and finally headed back to the car.

As you drove off, you glanced back once more at the center, at the kids still playing, at the place that meant everything to you.

The park was perfect, it was secluded, quiet, with a lake shimmering under the soft afternoon sun. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, and the smell of fresh grass mixed with the scent of the food Alexia was carefully setting out.

Meanwhile, you were doing everything except helping. “Mamá, look at this!” you called out, mid-cartwheel, before transitioning straight into a backflip.

Olga, sitting on a picnic blanket with a lazy smile, clapped enthusiastically. “¡Eso es, mi niña! Do another one!”

You grinned, landing a perfect front flip before turning back to her with your hands on your hips, chest puffed out proudly. “Ten out of ten, right?”

“More like eleven out of ten,” Olga teased, motioning you over.

Alexia, kneeling by the food, rolled her eyes. “Can we please eat before you break something?”

You pouted dramatically but obeyed, skipping over and plopping down next to Olga, who immediately pulled you into her side.

Lunch was peaceful, soft conversations, laughter, the occasional stealing of food off each other’s plates. The lake glistened in the background, the wind carried the sound of rustling leaves, and for a while, everything just felt right. Then, Alexia nudged a small box toward you.

“Here,” she said, her tone neutral, but the glint in her eyes said otherwise.

You blinked, looking between them. Olga was already grinning. Suspicious. With careful hands, you lifted the lid and pulled out.

“A jersey?” You held it up, confused. It was tiny, white and blue, and had Putellas 3 printed on the back.

You stared at it, then at them. “Guys, this is cute, but I don’t think this is going to fit me,” you deadpanned.

Olga burst into laughter, shaking her head as she motioned toward the box. “Keep looking.”

Frowning, you dug deeper, pulling out— an ultrasound photo. Your brain short-circuited for a second. You stared. Then stared some more. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Then, everything clicked.

Your head snapped up so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash. “No way.”

Olga was grinning, eyes crinkling with joy. Alexia was watching you, a soft, amused expression on her face.

You shot up like a rocket, nearly knocking over the entire picnic setup. “I’M GONNA BE A BIG SISTER?!”

Laughter bubbled from both of them as you took off running— nowhere in particular, just sprinting in wild circles around the picnic area, hands in your hair like you were trying to physically contain your excitement.

Alexia shook her head fondly. “Should we tell her to calm down?”

Olga snorted. “Let her get it out of her system.”

After a few more dramatic laps around the blanket, you suddenly stopped, whipped around, and swooped back down, tackling both of them in a hug so tight Olga wheezed.

“This is the best day ever,” you mumbled, squished between them, holding onto them like they’d disappear if you let go.

Olga kissed the top of your head. “We thought you’d like it.”

“Like it?!” You pulled back just enough to look at them, your grin splitting your face. “I’m gonna be the best big sister ever!”

Alexia chuckled. “We don’t doubt it.”

You nodded seriously, already planning all the things you’d teach your future sibling, all the ways you’d look out for them. Then, as if the excitement couldn’t be contained a second longer, you let out another happy yell and took off running again.

Olga and Alexia simply watched, hands intertwined, hearts full.

Yeah. This was definitely the best day ever.

[ladymarvel27]

A scoop of fluff | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Reader

based on this request: can i request a fluff lando fic with the prompt: reader's hungry at late night, went out alone to buy some ice cream because lando was sleeping already. halfway to the store lando whinely called you to ask where did you leave him to and immediately drove there to pick you up to buy ice cream together. ofc you and lando debated about which flavors tasted best and worst before agreeting to buy everything to try later on.

f1 masterlist

Her body was feeling hot as she slowly opened her eyes. 6 P.M. Her eyes widened. A small nap turned into three hours of sleep. She checks her phone to find Lando had left a message, Hey, didn’t wanted to wake u up, went for a run. She slowly sits up and stretches, her body tired from oversleeping.

She slumps into couch, the chips packet in one hand while the other picks up the television remote, pressing the power button.

An hour later, the front door opens and Lando makes his way inside, his shirt heavily damp, “Hey bab….” His voice falters as he sees her lying in the couch, her eyes glued to the tv and few small packets of snacks lying nearby, a melted chocolate in her hand, with small pecks on her lips. “Hey, lan,” she smiles noticing him enter, “Want some?” She asks, offering him the packet of snack lying around as she eats all the chocolate in her hand. “Well, I brought the dinner,” he says, bringing forward a paper bag, “Lasagna?”

She nods, smiling, “Cool that you brought dinner.” He smiles slowly, his eyes darting around to snacks packets lying around. He goes inside and comes out some minutes later, cleaned and in fresh clothes.

“Well,” she spoke, “we can have it later, right?” He nods, “Yeah, you should wait,” She picks up the packets lying around, “Do you want to watch this with me?” She points to the T.V. He sits down next to her on the couch.

Nearly an hour later, Lando’s stomach rumbles. “I think we should have dinner,” She spoke laughing. He chuckles, “Yeah.”

She sets up the dinner table and Lando places two plates on it. “Looks delicious,” she spoke. “Yeah, the diner nearby, they make good food, so I thought I should bring home some.” She smiles, “That’s good,” she takes a bite of the food, “mmm…it’s good,” she points to the food.

She pushes her plate with some leftover food towards Lando. “No love, eat, that’s your portion.”

“I am full Lan,” she looks at him with puppy eyes, “Pleaseeeeeeee…” “Okay,” he sighs and takes her plate. She gulps down a glass of water, smiling, thinking of the ice cream she was planning to eat. She stands and starts clearing the table.

After clearing up the dinner, Lando spoke, “I am going to bed.”

“Okay,” she replies loudly from the kitchen, “I am going to have an ice cream, you want some?” Lando refuses. She goes to the refrigerator and opens the door. “OH No!” She exclaimed.

“What happened?” Lando asks from the bedroom.

“There is no ice cream left.”

“Then come to bed, you were already full, right?” HE chuckles to himself. She closes the door and enters the bedroom, her shoulders slumped as she throws herself on the bed next to Lando.

He was about to speak when she spoke up first, “Good night, Lando.”

He sighs quietly, “Good night, babe.”

She closes her eyes and falls asleep.

Her eyes open like its morning. She looks at the clock in her phone. 1 A.M. She smiles and closes her eyes, pulling up the cover to go back to sleep.

She didn’t go back to her sleep.

She shut her eyes tightly to force herself into sleep. Shouldn’t have taken that afternoon nap. After few minutes of trying, she looks to her side. There lies Lando, in deep sleep. Her sweet boyfriend. What else is sweet? The ice cream whichshe could have eaten. Her mouth waters at the thought of it, diminishing any ways of sleeping peacefully. “Lando?” She softly calls him but he shows no response, already in a deep sleep.

She sighs and slowly gets out the bed. He stirs slowly but falls into his sleep again. She dresses up, picks up keys and phone, leaving him behind in deep sleep.

Lando turns in his sleep, his hand stretching seeking her warmth only to go into the cold empty mattress. His eyes flutter open. “Where the hell is she?” He mutters in his sleep, while still being tense. His hand reaches for his phone. “It’s nearly 2 am!” He mutters under his breath.

“Babeeee!” He calls her in sleepy voice, “Love! Where are you?”  He calls her name several times, but they were met with no answers.

He sighs in annoyance and dials her number.

She picks up and answers, “Hey, Lando, I hadn’t thought you would wake-”

“Where are you?!”

“I am…getting…ice cream.”

“At this time?!” He was nearly shouting but controlled himself. He shouldn’t shout at her. He couldn’t shout at her, “Okay, I am coming there.”

“No Lando, no need, I will be-”

“No, I am driving to there,” he says and hangs up. He immediately gets up, throws cold water on his face, picks up essentials and gets into his car, drove to the store.

She was standing near the door when Lando arrived. “Hey,” he yawns.

“Hello, Lan.”

“You should have woken me up.”

“But you were fast asleep, I didn't want to disturb you.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he sighs, and wraps his arms around her, “let’s get some ice cream.” She smiles as they both enter the store.

“Vanilla?” He asks.

She makes a disgusted face, “Ew, no!”

“What ew?” He gasps, “You find Vanilla disgusting?”

“Not disgusting, I just, I find it… boring.”

“So, you want the chocolate?”

“Yes. What’s wrong in that?”

“It’s so basic, love,” he argued.

“Well Vanilla’s more basic!” She retorts at him, making him gasp.

“But it tastes the best,” he pouts at you, making you chuckle.

“Let me be the mature one here,” she says, “everyone has their own perspective.”

“Well yeah,” he sighs, “how about we get everything to try later?”

She purses her lips, smiling as she nods, “Sounds like a great idea.”

Taglist: @itsjustvs4 @ice-man-goes-bwoah

Seperators credits: @saradika-graphics

[fliesforeyes]

oh, the thought of phone sex with spencer reid is driving me crazy.

it'd happen while he's gone on a case. not a short one, of course, he can usually last the two to three days away from you. but a week? he felt like he was going crazy without you, without your touch, your lips, your soft skin.

and no, of course he doesn't usually have dirty dreams about you. but tonight, of course, tonight had to be a night he did. he'd dreamt of fucking you, your soft thighs over his, straddling him as he sat against the headboard of your shared bed. the way your lips parted, the beautiful sounds you make, the soft sound of his skin against yours as he thrusted up into you, your grip on his shoulders. it was just enough to get him hard, to make him wake up in a cold sweat.

it was two a.m. when he awoke, the blinds to the window pulled shut. spencer was unbelievablely grateful that this night, he'd gotten a hotel room to himself. he knew you'd be asleep right now, the case only being further up the east coast and not in a seperate time-zone, but he needed to hear your voice.

"spence? what's wrong?" you asked, voice groggy when you picked up after the first few rings. spencer was already palming himself through his underwear, breath labored as he lay on his side. he'd never been this forward, and now that he has you on the phone, he doesn't even know what to say.

"i just- god i miss you," he said, voice quiet in the dark of his room. you quickly understood what he meant, the lack and breath and neediness in his voice apparent, the way he whined your name only furthering your assumption.

"yeah, spence?" you heard him mumble a small, 'mhm' in response, probably nodding despite you not being able to see it. you wished you could see it, you wished you could see how desperately his hips jutted forward, his big hand wrapped around his cock, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit back a moan of your name when he heard the teasing in your voice.

"needed to call me? need to hear my voice to cum?" you asked, already knowing his answer.

"yeah, please, please keep talking, is this okay? can i touch myself?" spencer whispered. he wanted to be sure this was okay with you. this was never something you two had even mentioned.

"mhm, yeah of course you can baby, whatever you need." your voice was still groggy and thick with sleep, but if anything it further pushed spencers fantasy of waking you and filling you up. "what should i talk about?" you asked, never having done this before.

"anything, please anything, just wanna hear you," he replied, breath heavy as he finally slipped his hand under his boxers and ran his hand along his hard cock. you heard a heavy whine through the receiver, a moan nearly escaping your lips at how pretty he sounded.

you simply rambled about the book you'd been reading, your day, your plans for the weekend. it was hard to concentrate when you could hear spencer getting himself off, the silent gasps and the moans distracting you from your words. spencer would mumble a small, "keep going," your name hushed under his breath.

you would go silent as he cums, thighs clenching together as you chewed your lip at the moan spencer let out, hushed in a way that almost turned you on even more.

"you done, spence?" you asked gently, yawning as your eyes drifted back to sleep.

"mhm, thank you," he responded. spencer kept the small note in his head that this was something you liked, for use on future cases.

[starvrse]

GIRL, SO CONFUSING

part one here !

pairing : kim minjeong (winter) x fem!reader

summary : a messy breakup. one unexpected visit. too many feelings left unsaid and one kiss that ruins the silence.

warnings : toxic relationship dynamics, sexual content, sorta kinda angst idk, g!p winter, baby trapping mention, etc.

unnecessary bs : like 9k words, lowkey lost brain power half way thru

your alarm goes off at 9:30.

too early, too bright, and way too loud for the kind of night you had.

you groan, slap at your phone until it shuts up, and flop back against your pillow with a dramatic sigh. your body aches, not physically, but like… emotionally. like your soul went through a breakup again last night.

your phone lights up in your hand.

2 missed calls

3 messages

you blink.

and then you really blink.

[6:12 a.m.] minjeong: are you awake

[6:25 a.m.] minjeong: i shouldn’t have said that shit

[6:49 a.m.] minjeong: can you pick up the phone for once

your stomach flips, you swipe up and open the call log.

missed call — minjeong (6:13 a.m.)

missed call — minjeong (6:49 a.m.)

your finger hovers over her name. again. always.

you don’t even know what she would’ve said. what you would’ve said.

last night, you felt strong. stubborn. like you could finally cut the cord. but now? in the daylight, in your messy room, with the ghost of her voice still haunting your ears? you’re not so sure.

you toss the phone face down on the bed like it might bite you.

a second later, you flip it back over.

typical.

you open her last message again. stare at it.

“can you pick up the phone for once”

you should text back something clever. petty. cold. instead you lie back and just… stare at the ceiling, heart hammering, throat dry. because part of you wants to call her back, and part of you wants to pretend she never reached out.

you reach for your charger, and the second you plug your phone in—it lights up again.

incoming call: minjeong.

your breath catches.

she’s calling you again.

what now? answer? decline? let it ring?

you stare at the screen, the ringtone keeps playing, so does your heartbeat, you don’t even remember making the decision. your thumb just moves and you answer her call.

“…hello?”

there’s silence, a breath. then—

“you answered,” minjeong says, like she wasn’t expecting you to, like she already played out the rejection in her head.

“yeah, well,” you mumble, shifting under the blanket, “you called three times. it’s either important or you lost the last two brain cells you had left.”

she snorts. it’s quiet, a little raspy—like she didn’t sleep either.

good.

“i didn’t lose anything,” she says. “i just… i wanted to talk to you. when you weren’t looking at me like you hated me.”

you go quiet and your jaw tightens. not because she’s wrong, but because she’s right.

you hated her last night, or you wanted to.

same thing.

“…you said some fucked up things,” you say finally, voice low.

“i know,” she says. no hesitation. “i was pissed. i was—jealous. seeing you with those guys made me want to put my head through a wall.”

“you don’t get to do that anymore, minjeong,” you say, harsher than you meant to. “you don’t get to act like you own me just because you got feelings.”

“i do own you,” she snaps back, and it’s instinctive, reckless, the kind of thing that would’ve made you melt six months ago.

you go still.

“minjeong—”

“i know,” she says again, softer this time. “i know. fuck. i didn’t mean it like that.”

you press a hand to your face. this is already going downhill and it’s been two minutes. “you can’t keep doing this,” you whisper. “you come back, you kiss me, you call me a whore, and now you’re—what? apologizing? again?”

she goes quiet, you can hear her breathing on the other end and it’s shaky.

“i don’t want you with anyone else,” she says finally. “i know i don’t deserve to say that. but i’m saying it anyway.”

your throat tightens, and for a second, you think you might cry. but instead you close your eyes and swallow it down. “…you don’t get to say that. not after everything. not when i’m just trying to move on.”

“so is that what last night was? moving on?” her voice sharpens. “you grinded on two guys, kissed me like you meant it, and walked away. is that what moving on looks like to you?”

you exhale. slow. trembling.

“i don’t know what it was,” you admit. “i was drunk. you were there. i’m tired. and you make everything worse.”

the line goes silent again. but this time, it’s different.

“are you gonna hang up?” she asks. you don’t answer right away, you wish you knew. the silence stretches between you both—tight, uncomfortable. and minjeong knows exactly what to do with it.

“…i haven’t slept.”

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft scoff. “that’s not my problem.”

“i know.” her voice drops, quieter now. “i just… i kept thinking about you. your face. your laugh. your lipstick on my mouth.” you squeeze your eyes shut, hand balling the blanket in your fist. “minjeong…”

“i miss you so bad it makes me feel sick,” she says, and her voice cracks like she did cry last night. maybe still is. “i swear i tried not to call. i told myself to leave you alone. but i couldn’t. i can’t.”

your throat tightens, but you keep your voice cold. “and what? now you want me to feel bad for you?”

“no,” she says quickly. “no, i just… want to be near you. just for a little while. i won’t touch you. i swear. i’ll sit on the floor if you want.”

you blink, stunned. “…what?”

“i’ll sit on the floor. or outside. or like—in your hallway. i just wanna see you.”

“you sound insane,” you whisper.

“i am insane,” she says, a miserable little laugh bubbling out. “you made me insane.”

you rub your forehead, torn between hanging up and melting into the mattress. “it’s like, ten in the morning, minjeong.”

“and?” she sounds so pitiful. “please, yn. just for an hour. i’ll leave after. i just—i just wanna see your face without you walking away this time.”

you bite your lip. god, she’s awful. manipulative. toxic. and it’s working. because you miss her too, and you hate that you do. “fine,” you whisper, heart pounding. “an hour.” you hear her exhale, shaky like relief punched her in the chest. “i’ll be there in ten.”

you hang up without saying anything, drop your phone on your chest, stare at the ceiling, and say a silent prayer that you won’t end up in tears by noon.

you won’t let her get to you, won’t let her crawl back in. not again.

probably.

-

ten minutes. that’s all it takes. you barely have time to brush your hair and throw on a hoodie before your phone buzzes again.

minjeong: i’m outside

you stare at the message, your stomach flips, and your hand twitches. you should ignore it. let her sit there. let her suffer a little. but instead, you’re already walking to the door. already unlocking it.

and there she is. hood up, hands in the pockets of her jacket, hair messy in the way that means she definitely didn’t sleep, and eyes locked on yours the second you open the door.

“hey,” she says, like this is casual. like this isn’t insane. like she didn’t call you a bitch and then beg to sit on your floor this morning.

you fold your arms across your chest. “you’ve got fifty-nine minutes.”

she smiles a little. not cocky. not smug. just soft. like she’s grateful to even be breathing your air. “that’s more than enough.”

you step aside and let her in, your eyes trailing after her as she walks in slow, like she’s scared she’ll scare you off. or maybe she’s just being dramatic. either way, it works.

she stops in the middle of your room. doesn’t sit. doesn’t touch anything.

“you look tired.” she says.

“wonder why.”

she hums, gives you a once-over that’s subtle but definitely not innocent. “you still look good though.”

“flattery’s not gonna work.” you warn, leaning against the wall. she turns, facing you fully now. “it’s not flattery. it’s the truth.”

you roll your eyes, but your face is already heating.

“i meant what i said on the phone,” she murmurs, voice softer now. “i was jealous. and stupid. i didn’t mean what i said, yn.”

“you said a lot of things,” you mutter.

“i know. and none of them were true.” she takes a step closer. “you’re not a whore. you’re not gross. i was just—i didn’t know how to handle seeing you with someone else. i panicked. i said what would hurt. i didn’t mean it.”

you look away. the sincerity in her voice is dangerous. it makes your throat tight again. “why does it always take you blowing up for you to realize how much you care?” you ask quietly.

minjeong’s eyes flicker. she steps closer. another inch. just enough that you can smell her shampoo. she tilts her head, voice dropping. “because i don’t know how to be calm about you.”

your breath catches.

“i tried,” she continues. “i tried ignoring it. pretending i didn’t still think about you every night. but then i saw you, and it was like—fuck. like everything snapped back. i couldn’t breathe.”

you bite your lip. “so now you’re here. what do you want?”

she smiles, slow and soft and dangerous. “to hold you. maybe kiss you. but only if you let me.”

you narrow your eyes. “you said you’d sit on the floor.”

she grins, sweet like sugar but her voice dips low. “baby, i’d kneel if it meant touching you again.”

your heart slams against your ribs. she’s not yelling, she’s not demanding, she’s not the minjeong from last night. but she’s still got that fire under her skin, barely contained. and it’s pulling you in again.

you hate her. you want her.

you don’t move. “fifty minutes left,” you say.

her smile turns smug, even as her tone stays soft. “more than enough.”

minjeong doesn’t move closer, yet. she knows better.

instead, she lets herself sink onto the edge of your bed like she’s scared it’ll disappear if she shifts too fast. like she’s still trying to play sweet. innocent.

you don’t move. arms crossed, sleeves swallowing your hands. “so?” you say, quiet, but firm. like you’re daring her to say the wrong thing.

“so,” she repeats, picking at a thread on your comforter, not looking at you. “are we gonna talk or are you gonna glare at me for the next fifty minutes?”

you roll your eyes, but you sit at the very corner of the bed anyway, still keeping a solid three feet between you.

“talk then.”

minjeong nods. doesn’t look at you yet. “…i keep thinking about the day we broke up,” she says suddenly, quiet. “the way you looked at me after i ripped your clothes, ruined your room… i’ve never seen you look at me like that.”

your throat tightens. “yeah. well. you were psycho that day.”

“i know,” she says, soft. “and it’s not an excuse, but… i think i was scared. like, really scared. you were so happy without me that week. so free. and i felt like i was fading out of your life.”

you scoff under your breath. “you made sure to burn the bridge, just in case, huh?”

she finally looks up, and fuck do you hate the way her eyes soften when they meet yours. “i thought if i could hurt you first, it’d make leaving easier.”

you look away.

the silence stretches. she lets it.

“…do you still hate me?” she asks after a moment.

“depends on the day.”

“and today?”

you glance at her.

she’s leaning slightly forward now, elbows on her knees, fingers laced. watching you with that careful, gentle look, like she’s trying not to scare you off.

“today i’m trying really hard not to let you win.”

her mouth twitches. not quite a smile. not yet.

“but you’re letting me stay.”

“you begged.”

“you answered.”

you shoot her a glare. she shrugs.

“i’m not trying to win, yn. i’m just… trying to be here. with you.”

“you say that now,” you mutter. “but give it a week and you’ll be in my dms with some other girl’s profile picture under your likes.”

her face drops just a little. a flicker of guilt, of shame.

“i’m not proud of that,” she says. “but i swear—i wasn’t trying to replace you. i was trying to forget you.”

your chest clenches. it’s way too quiet in the room. minjeong takes a slow breath. and then, finally, she scoots a little closer.

“i don’t want to forget you anymore.”

you stare at her, and you wish—wish—you didn’t want her to be saying all this. but you do. and she knows it.

��just one hug,” she murmurs. “i promise. then i’ll go.”

you hesitate, your arms stay crossed but your body leans, just slightly.

her voice stays low, soft enough to break you. “please?”

god, you’re weak.

you sigh, uncross your arms, and finally let her pull you in. her arms wrap around you like she never let go in the first place. and for a second, you don’t hate it, you just breathe. and she holds on. you shouldn’t let her hold you this long, you shouldn’t let her hold you at all.

but you’re curled into her chest, hoodie bunched in her fists, and her cheek is pressed against your temple like she’s scared you’ll disappear again. then quietly, right next to your ear, she starts talking.

“i used to dream about this,” she murmurs, voice low, warm. “you coming back. letting me touch you again.”

you tense slightly, but her arms tighten around your waist, not enough to trap, just enough to stay.

“i’d wake up in the middle of the night thinking i heard you laughing in the kitchen,” she says. “i’d check my phone every morning hoping you’d text me.” you swallow, eyes closing.

“i know i was fucked up,” she whispers, breath brushing your skin. “i was angry. jealous. scared. but not once did i stop loving you. not even when i said the worst shit. not even when i pretended i hated you.”

her hand moves—slow, delicate—up and down your back.

“i didn’t want you with those guys last night because i knew they wouldn’t treat you like you deserve,” she murmurs. “they don’t know how to handle you.”

you shift, uncomfortable.

but her voice is soft. syrupy. sweet like poison.

“they don’t know how to love you right,” she says. “they’d fuck you and forget you. i could never do that. i’ve memorized you. i could find your heartbeat in a blackout.”

you shiver at her words.

she leans in closer, lips brushing your jaw now. “i love you, yn,” she breathes. “no one else comes close. no one ever will.”

your heart’s in your throat. your hands are still gripping the back of her hoodie like you’re afraid letting go will break the spell.

she pulls back just enough to look at you. “tell me you don’t want me and i’ll leave,” she says softly. “right now.”

you stare at her. you should say it. you could. but the words don’t come.

and she’s already smiling, so sure of herself. so smug in the gentlest way. “that’s what i thought.” she whispers. she leans in again, slower this time, like she knows you’re already gone.

you hate how quiet it is in the room, you hate how close she is, how warm her hands are, how soft her voice got the second she knew you were cracking, but mostly, you hate how much you missed her.

you look up at her, eyes locked, breath held, and for a second neither of you moves. you’re waiting for her to lean in, she’s waiting for you to break. and you do. just a little.

you press forward, lips brushing hers—so light you barely feel it.

not desperate. not messy. just soft.

like you’re remembering something, like you’re mourning it at the same time.

minjeong doesn’t move. doesn’t push it further. she just breathes, her fingers still resting on your waist, eyes fluttering shut for half a second before they open again.

you pull back. your face burns. your heart is thudding too loud. “that didn’t mean anything,” you mumble. she nods slowly, still watching you too closely. “okay,” she whispers. “then do it again.”

you scoff, push her shoulder, but you’re already looking away to hide the way your mouth wants to smile. she leans her forehead against yours. “you missed me,” she says quietly.

“shut up.” “you did.”

you don’t answer. you don’t have to. she’s already got you back in her arms and this time, you’re not pulling away.

you’re still close enough to hear her breathe. her arms are around you. your nose is nearly brushing hers. and that kiss—

you’re not even thinking straight anymore. just warmth, her voice in your ear, her eyes on your lips.

then your phone buzzes. loud. sharp. obnoxious. you both freeze.

the ringtone keeps going, echoing through the room like a slap. you lean back, blinking like you just woke up from something.

minjeong’s arms stay locked around your waist. “don’t answer,” she says quickly, voice low.

you glance at the screen.

ningie

you bite your lip, torn. “it’s ning.”

“i figured.” she exhales through her nose. “just call her back later.”

“she’s probably checking on me,” you murmur.

“you’re fine.”

you hesitate again, she’s looking at you like this is life or death. you know what she wants. but your thumb’s already sliding across the screen.

“hey,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear and standing up. minjeong’s arms drop away, her expression instantly shifting, lips pressed tight, jaw tense.

“bitch,” ningning says, not even hello, “are you alive? you said you were gonna update me and then you disappeared.”

“i’m okay,” you whisper, pacing a little away. “i just got… caught up.”

“caught up with who?”

you glance behind you. minjeong is sitting on the bed, arms crossed, jaw tense, glaring holes into the back of your phone. “…just someone,” you mumble.

“yn.”

you wince.

“if you’re with winter i swear to god—”

“ning,” you interrupt quickly, “please. don’t do this right now.”

“so i’m right??”

you don’t say anything.

“are you kidding? did you already forget she tried to fuck you outside the club last night?”

you sigh, tugging your sleeve over your hand. “we’re just talking.”

“uh huh. and what? kissing too, apparently?”

you don’t answer.

ningning groans. “you are so unserious. you are so—”

you hang up, and minjeong is glaring.

“really?”

you raise an eyebrow. “she was worried.”

“you let her ruin our moment,” she mutters.

“our moment?”

“we were being cuddly.”

“you looked sad. i was being nice.”

she narrows her eyes.

you just smile, walking back over and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “you’ve got, like, thirty minutes left.”

she watches you pull it over your head like it’s a crime against humanity.

“you gonna be annoying the whole time?” you ask.

“you hugged me,” she grinned , smug now. “and you’re blushing.”

“you’re still on thin ice.”

“so we’re not fighting anymore?”

you pause, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “…we’re taking a break.” she grins at those words. “like a halftime?” you roll your eyes. “careful,” you mutter, walking past her toward the door, “you might make it to the second half.

minjeong doesn’t follow right away. you hear her shuffle behind you—feet dragging on the floor like she’s trying to buy herself a second longer in your space before the next thing happens. like she’s scared she’ll ruin it if she moves too fast again.

you head into the kitchen, flip the kettle on, mostly just to have something to do with your hands. your face is still warm. your lips still tingle.

you hear her footsteps before you feel her presence, quiet, cautious, and entirely too familiar. she stops at the edge of the kitchen, leaning against the wall like she’s testing the waters. “want me to make the tea?” she offers, a little too sweet.

you raise a brow. “you don’t know how.”

“i could learn.”

you shoot her a look. “this isn’t the time for bonding activities.”

she pouts—yes, pouts—and you look away before your mouth curls again. the silence creeps back in. it’s not awkward. just heavy. she speaks again, softer this time. “you didn’t ask me to leave.”

you glance up from your mug. “i was waiting for you to offer.” you reply. she smiles. “never gonna happen.” you shake your head, but you don’t argue.

you pour the hot water into two mugs. hand her one without a word. she takes it like it’s a peace offering.

minjeong stares into her mug for a beat. then, quieter: “you know, if it were me… and someone treated you like i did last night… i wouldn’t let them back in.”

your throat tightens. “it’s not you.”

she looks up.

you meet her eyes. “you’re the one i let back in.”

her mouth parts, just a little. like she wasn’t expecting that. like she doesn’t deserve it. (which, arguably, she doesn’t.)

“thank you,” she says, voice small. you take a sip of your tea, half to avoid responding, you’re already in too deep. she steps closer again. slow. slow enough for you to say stop.

you don’t.

you sigh and nod toward the stool across from you. “sit before you fall over.” she smirks. “yes, ma’am.”

“don’t start.”

“yes, ma’am,” she repeats, even softer, gaze sparkling. you give her a glare that holds absolutely no weight, and she knows it. you hate that she knows it. you sip again. she mirrors you. there’s a small pause.

then she breaks the silence.

“what did you tell ningning?”

you blink. minjeong’s tone isn’t mean. but it’s not neutral, either. you tilt your head, watching her carefully. “why?”

“just wondering.” she shrugs. “she hates me. i’m assuming you didn’t say i was here because you missed me.” you hum. “i told her we were talking.” she looks at you. just looks. but there’s something under it. something ugly. possessive. flickering in the dark behind her eyes.

“…and?”

“and nothing.”

“you didn’t say anything else?”

you set your mug down, lips tightening. “what are you getting at?”

“nothing,” she says quickly, smiling too sharp. “just… wondering how honest you were being.”

you stare.

her jaw ticks.

you raise a brow.

“you’re literally in my house,” you say flatly. “you really want to pick a fight again?”

she looks away, sips her tea, and for once, miraculously she backs off. “…no,” she mutters. “i don’t.”

you both go quiet again.

until, a moment later, she leans forward, elbows on the counter, eyes all over your face. “you gonna let me stay after the hour’s up?” you pretend to think, and she pouts again. “ynnn,” she whines softly. “you’re not really kicking me out at eleven, right?”

“depends.”

“on?”

“how good you behave.”

her grin is immediate. smug. obnoxious. “you want me to be good?”

you glare.

“you want me to be so good?”

“you want to be back outside?”

minjeong laughs, soft and warm, and you try—really try—not to smile again. but you do. just a little.

-

the two of you are quiet for a while.

the movie plays in the background, something low and familiar, but neither of you are really watching. you’re curled into one corner of the couch, arms hugging your knees. minjeong’s on the other end, legs stretched out, hand resting somewhere near your ankle. you should move it. but you don’t.

her voice cuts through the quiet, soft and low. “i missed this.”

you barely turn your head. “what?”

“this. us. being here with you.”

your eyes drop to the edge of your blanket, fingers picking at the stitching. minjeong’s staring at the screen now, but it’s clear she’s not seeing any of it. “i used to think about this all the time,” she murmurs. “what it’d be like if i came back. if you let me in.”

you say nothing, and she lets the silence linger.

and almost like a whisper, “you miss everything when you lose it.” you say. it’s quiet, not bitter. just true.

her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t speak.

your eyes flick toward her. “it’s easy to miss something when it’s not yours anymore.”

“you’re not a thing.”

“you didn’t treat me like a person,” you respond. calm. even.

she swallows hard, and the silence comes back. thicker now. heavier.

and she shifts just slightly closer—carefully, like she knows she’s walking on broken glass. “…i’m trying,” she whispers. “i’m trying to be better.”

“good.” your voice is still soft, still unreadable. “you should.”

her hand moves inch by inch until it’s resting gently over your ankle again. not gripping, just touching.

“i don’t want to lose this again.”

you look at her, really look at her, and she’s not smug now. not grinning. not acting like she’s won. she’s just… there.

bare faced, bare voiced. honest.

you let out a slow breath, gaze falling to where her hand rests against your skin. “then don’t fuck it up,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. her nod is immediate—quiet, almost reverent. “i won’t.” and for once, just for a fleeting second, you let her believe it. you shift slightly, her hand still warm and steady over your ankle, like she’s afraid to let go.

your eyes stay fixed on the tv, tone low but clear. “we’re not getting back together.” her head snaps toward you. “what?” you glance over—not harsh, not distant, just steady. “this doesn’t mean everything’s okay,” you say. “you’re here because i let you in. not because i want to pretend like none of it happened.”

minjeong blinks, caught off guard. “i know,” she says quickly. “i didn’t mean—I’m not trying to rush you.”

“you don’t get to win me back with one hug and a movie,” you add, arms still wrapped around your knees. “it doesn’t work like that.”

she swallows. nods. “okay. yeah. i get it.”

“i’m still mad.”

“i know.”

“and hurt.”

her voice drops. “i know.”

you look at her again. “so don’t get comfortable.”

her gaze doesn’t waver. “i’m not.”

you raise an eyebrow.

“okay, maybe a little,” she mumbles, glancing around your living room like she’s letting herself remember the walls and corners she used to call hers. “but i know i don’t deserve to be.”

you hum, resting your chin on your knee.

another long silence.

and suddenly—

“you’re really not gonna let me kiss you again?” she asks, half a smile tugging at her lips.

“you’re really testing that thin ice,” you warn.

“just checking.”

you try to fight the smile tugging at your lips for what feels like the hundredth time today.

-

the time passes slower than it should, tension in the air thickening as the minutes drag on. you feel the weight of her presence, the way she watches you from the corner of your eye like she’s studying every movement.

it’s strange.

but then again, everything about this situation is strange. the way she’s so close without actually touching you, like she’s waiting for permission. like she’s waiting for you to break.

and maybe you’re already cracked.

you’re not sure when it happens. maybe it’s the way she says your name. or the quiet, unspoken thing between you two—the pull that’s always been there, even when you tried to ignore it.

one second, she’s leaning in, lips brushing the side of your cheek.

the next, she’s got you in her lap, your legs straddling her waist, her arms tight around you as she pulls you in for another kiss.

it’s not fast. not desperate.

just slow. careful. testing, like she’s making sure you’re not going to pull away. and when you don’t, when you let her deepen it, she gives a quiet exhale into your mouth.

her hands move—one cupping your jaw, the other trailing down your back, holding you there like she’s not sure you’ll stay.

your fingers tangle in her hair, tugging her closer. your heart races as the kiss deepens, slow and deliberate. her body shifts beneath you, hands sliding up your sides, pulling you even closer until there’s no space between you two.

you pull back for a second, breathing hard, eyes flicking to her lips “you’re dangerous,” you murmur, voice shaking.

“you like it,” she whispers back, her lips brushing yours again.

and you do. you hate how much you like it.

the tension snaps when she tilts her head, kissing you again, softer this time, gentler, like she’s cherishing it.

it feels familiar. the way she holds you. the way she makes you forget everything else.

her hands move to the back of your shirt, tugging it up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin, and then she pulls you even closer, like she’s trying to keep you there.

you can feel your pulse in your ears, in the way your chest presses against hers, in the way your hands shake just a little.

the world could fall apart right now and you wouldn’t care.

for a second, it’s just her and you. nothing else.

and you don’t think you want to let go.

the kiss is different this time. slower, softer, minjeong isn’t rushing, isn’t pressing you against the wall like she did outside the club, her hands tight and demanding. this time, she’s careful, like she’s trying to savor every second, every inch of you.

you can feel the difference. her grip is gentler, more deliberate, and there’s something tender in the way she pulls you closer, not forcing, but inviting. it’s like she’s trying to make up for every time she lost control, every time she pushed you away instead of pulling you in.

her hands stay on your back, but they move slowly, tracing the curve of your spine like she’s trying to memorize it, to make sure she doesn’t do anything wrong this time.

the kiss deepens, but it’s not frantic. there’s no desperation in it, just warmth, like the world outside this room doesn’t matter. her lips press softly against yours, a slow rhythm, a quiet kind of urgency. she’s still there, holding you, but it’s different.

it’s as if she’s letting you choose how this goes, as if she’s waiting for you to make the next move.

you tilt your head, leaning into the kiss more, fingers curling into the fabric of her hoodie. it feels familiar, but it’s not the same. this time, there’s no anger, no bitterness. there’s just… softness.

you pull back slightly, just enough to look at her, your breath shaky. “this isn’t like before.”

minjeong’s eyes are soft, her pupils dilated. she smiles faintly, brushing her thumb across your cheek like she’s trying to reassure you. “i know. i’m not trying to be that person anymore.”

you can hear the sincerity in her voice, the way it almost cracks, and it makes your chest tighten.

“then what are you trying to be?” you ask quietly, your fingers still tangled in her hair.

“just… here,” she whispers. “just with you. not rushing. not demanding. just… here.”

you don’t say anything, but you don’t pull away either. instead, you let your forehead rest against hers, just breathing for a moment, feeling the warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

this time, when her lips find yours again, it’s different. it’s not about proving anything. it’s just… simple. intimate. like she’s finally learned to let you breathe before she kisses you.

minjeong’s lips are still brushing against yours, soft and warm, when she murmurs against your mouth, “you missed this, didn’t you?”

you huff a quiet breath, trying to hide the way your fingers tighten in her hoodie. “you wish.”

but she just grins, the kind that makes your stomach flip. “mm,” she hums, her hands sliding slowly, deliberately, down your waist, over your hips, until they settle at the back of your thighs. “you missed my lips, baby.”

you open your mouth to deny it, but then her hands start to move—massaging gently, fingers pressing in just right. not too rough, not cocky like she’s trying to prove a point, but soft. tender. like she’s taking her time, like she’s got nowhere else to be but here, touching you like this.

your breath hitches.

she leans in again, kissing the corner of your mouth this time, slow. “missed the way i hold you.”

her thumbs trace slow circles into your skin, warm through the fabric of your shorts. your legs tighten around her a little and you swear she notices—her smile gets smug.

“you tryna act like you don’t love this,” she whispers, kissing the edge of your jaw, “but look at you.”

you tilt your head back slightly, not saying a word, just letting her keep talking because god—her voice this close, her hands this soft—it’s messing with you.

“you’re so easy for me,” she says low, one hand sliding up again to rest at your waist, the other still kneading at the back of your thigh. “said you wouldn’t let me kiss you again.”

“shut up,” you breathe, though it comes out way too soft to sound convincing.

“nah,” she grins, kissing your throat now. “not when you’re making that face.”

you tug her hoodie gently, trying to pull her closer even though you’re already practically pressed together.

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re obsessed with me,” she shoots back, grinning against your skin.

you don’t answer, but your hips shift, just barely, just enough—and her breath catches.

she pulls back a little, eyes locked on yours, and even with that teasing smile still on her lips, there’s something softer in her gaze now. something real.

“let me take care of you,” she says quietly. “just for a little while.”

you don’t nod. don’t say anything.

but you don’t get off her lap either.

so she kisses you again.

and this time, you kiss her back like you mean it.

minjeong’s lips are soft and warm, her hands cradling the back of your head like you’re something delicate. she pulls you closer, and you let her, heart racing as her mouth moves against yours. she tastes like mint and something sweet—familiar, addictive. you kiss her as if your pouring every unspoken word, every bottled up feeling, into it.

as the kiss deepens, minjeong lets out a soft, breathy groan, her lips parting just enough to let you in. your tongue brushes hers, slow and hungry, and you feel her shift beneath you—subtle at first, then unmistakable. her length presses against you, firm and growing, and her hands tighten on your waist, pulling you in like she needs you closer.

minjeong breaks the kiss, cheeks flushed, breath uneven.

“fuck,” she murmurs, half a laugh slipping out low and strained like she’s trying to keep it together.

her hands twitch on your hips as she shifts underneath you, hips tilting just slightly, like she’s searching for a way to breathe without pressing up too hard against you.

but it’s no use. she’s already hard. already aching. and you feel every bit of it.

her jaw clenches.

“you’re driving me crazy,” she mutters, like it’s your fault. like she didn’t pull you into her lap first.

she looks up at you, eyes blown wide, dark with something heavy.

“you feel that?” she whispers, voice low and frayed at the edges. you nod, barely, too aware of the way her length presses up against you—hot, insistent, impossible to ignore.

minjeong exhales, shaky, hands tightening just a little on your waist. “i can’t help it,” she says, almost like a confession. “not when you kiss me like that.”

minjeong’s hand slides from your waist to the back of your neck, firm and deliberate, pulling you flush against her.

you feel all of her now—every inch pressing into you—and it sends a wave of heat crawling up your spine.

she shifts her hips, slow and subtle, just enough to make you feel it. not demanding. just a promise.

“you’re so needy,” you tease, biting back a smile as you feel her grow even harder beneath you.

minjeong groans, her face burying itself into your neck as she moves her hips again, this time with purpose.

“shut up,” she mutters, voice rough.

minjeong’s movements grow more deliberate, each shift sending a wave of heat through you. you can feel the growing wetness between your thighs, your body reacting to her like it knows exactly what she wants. her neediness fuels your own, the pressure building as her hardness presses against you with each gentle roll of her hips.

“damn it,” minjeong mutters under her breath, and before you can even process it, she’s lifting you off her lap—fast, a little reckless.

you let out a soft gasp, feet barely hitting the floor before she’s pushing you back, back against the cushions.

your body lands with a quiet thud, the couch dipping beneath you.

she hovers for a second, just standing there, chest rising and falling—like she’s trying to decide if she wants to kiss you again or ruin you right there.

her eyes dark. jaw tense.

“you don’t get to look at me like that,” she says.

and then she moves, slow but sure, like she already knows you’re not going anywhere.

minjeong leans over you, shadowing your body, her gaze heavy—burning—as it drags across the sight of you laid out beneath her.

“look at you,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you, voice laced with something dark, something hungry.

her hands hover just above the hem of your shirt, fingers twitching like she’s holding herself back.

she hesitates.

“can i?” her voice interrupts the heavy breathing.

she lifts her eyes to yours, and for a moment, all the tension breaks into something tender. asking. waiting. her breath shallow. her hands still trembling with restraint.

you nod, breath catching when minjeong’s fingers graze your skin, lifting the hem of your shirt with a slowness that feels almost reverent. she peels the fabric away inch by inch, her eyes locked on yours the entire time—watching, checking, making sure.

when the shirt finally slips off, she tosses it aside without a second thought. then, still watching you, she shrugs off her hoodie. it falls behind her in a soft heap, leaving her in nothing but a nike sports bra, snug against her toned frame.

“can i take this off too?” she asks, voice low, husky—but softer than before. gentler.

she doesn’t wait long.

her fingers slide under your bra straps, dragging them down slowly, deliberately. her touch is light, almost careful. then she reaches behind you, unhooking the clasp in one smooth motion. the bra loosens, slips down your arms. and then you’re bare before her—soft, warm, trembling just a little.

minjeong doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you for a second too long, her jaw tight, her hands flexing where they rest on your waist like she’s trying not to ruin the moment by wanting too much all at once.

“holy fuck,” minjeong breathes, eyes going wide—stunned, reverent—as she takes you in. her hand lifts, slow and unsure, until her fingers are skimming across your collarbone, tracing the slope of it before drifting lower, ghosting over the curve of your chest. she swallows, hard.

“can i…” her voice falters. “can i take the rest off too?”

you don’t nod. instead, your fingers curl in the fabric of the couch, your body arching just slightly—subtle, wordless permission. minjeong sees it. understands.

she hesitates only a second longer before her hands drop to your waistband. and then, with one sharp pull, she drags everything down—shorts, panties—leaving you bare under the dim light.

“fuck,” she mutters, more to herself than you. “i missed this body so bad.”

her hands move on instinct, like they’ve done this a thousand times. like they never forgot. they glide over your hips, your thighs, thumbs brushing up the sensitive skin of your inner legs. you shudder, a soft sound slipping out. and then her hands are on your chest again—gentle, then not. her touch makes you moan, makes your breath stutter.

she smiles at the sound, like it means something. like it’s hers.

“god,” minjeong mutters, almost like she’s in disbelief. “look at these.”

her hands cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples before she presses your breasts together slightly, admiring the way they rise with your breath. then she leans in—slow, unhurried—and licks a single tight peak, her tongue warm against the sensitive skin.

you gasp, spine arching instinctively, your hands tightening in the couch cushions.

she doesn’t stop—her mouth wraps around you, lips closing as she sucks deeply, her tongue flicking just right. a soft cry escapes you before you can stop it, your body reacting faster than your thoughts.

minjeong hums against your skin, like she’s satisfied with the sound. like she wants more of it.

minjeong shifts, her mouth moving to your other nipple without missing a beat. she licks first, slow and deliberate before sucking softly, then harder, her hands kneading your chest with practiced ease. your breath catches, hips twitching, your nipples growing even tighter under her warm, wet tongue.

your moans spill out freely now, each sound dragging a low hum from her throat, like she’s savoring every reaction. her name slips out once—twice—half-formed, shaky.

and then, finally, she pulls away with a wet pop, your chest rising and falling in her absence.

she doesn’t stop, though—her mouth begins a slow descent, lips brushing kisses down your stomach, each one softer than the last but leaving heat in its place. you squirm beneath her, fingers weaving into her hair, the anticipation curling tight in your belly as she moves lower.

her kisses soften as she trails down your hips, each one slower, more intentional. her hands slide beneath your thighs, coaxing them apart with gentle pressure. you shiver when her lips meet your inner thigh, the touch feather-light, barely there—but enough to make you tremble.

she pauses, eyes flicking up to yours—dark, hungry, reverent—before she finally leans in and presses a kiss to your center, soft and lingering.

you gasp. your hips twitch instinctively, chasing more, but minjeong just smirks against you, wicked and calm. she doesn’t rush. instead, she kisses all around your pussy, her mouth teasing, her tongue tracing just close enough to make your breath hitch.

her hands grip your thighs tighter, spreading you open like a gift, her mouth moving slow and deliberate—every motion a promise. and still, she avoids your clit. just barely. just enough to drive you crazy.

“fuck, i missed this taste,” minjeong murmurs against your thigh, her breath warm, lips brushing your skin. her fingers part you slowly, reverently, and then—her tongue flattens against your folds, dragging up with a low groan like she’s savoring you.

“been craving you so badly…” she mutters, voice thick with hunger, before diving back in.

and when her mouth finally finds your clit—latching on, sucking gently—you cry out, loud and broken.

“fuck! min—”

your hands fly to her hair, gripping tight as her tongue moves faster, more desperate now. every flick, every pull of her lips around you sends shockwaves through your body—hot and fast and relentless. she moans against you like she’s starved. and it only makes everything burn hotter.

minjeong pulls back with a wet slurp, panting, lips shiny, chin slick.

“shit,” she breathes, wiping her face with the back of her hand, smearing your wetness across her cheek like she doesn’t even care. “i could eat this cunt forever.”

but then her eyes flick up—dark, blown out, desperate.

“but i need to be inside you, it’s been too long.”

she stands without breaking eye contact, fingers already hooking into her waistband. in one smooth motion, she shoves her sweats and boxers down, her cock springing free—hard, flushed, leaking.

she kicks them off carelessly, standing over you—bare, beautiful, and fucking starving.

you bite back a grin, lip caught between your teeth as you look up at her—tall, flushed, cock standing hard and heavy between her legs.

“fuck,” you murmur, voice thick with want. “you’re so big...”

you shift your hips, legs falling open just a little wider.

an invitation. a challenge. both.

minjeong’s cock twitches at your words, her smirk widening as she steps closer, eyes dark.

“damn it,” she breathes, voice rough. “i don’t have a condom.”

she pauses, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“but that’s okay, right?” she murmurs, leaning in, her lips brushing your cheek. “i’ll pull out.”

and then she’s back between your legs—settled, steady—dragging the thick head of her cock through your soaked folds, slow and teasing, like she has all the time in the world. like she doesn’t already feel like she’s about to lose it.

minjeong leans in, her voice low—dangerously soft.

“but honestly?” her cock nudges against your entrance, thick and heavy. “i wouldn’t mind putting a baby in you.”

your breath catches.

“might give you a reason to never leave me,” she adds, grinding into you just enough to make your legs tremble, her words sinking deeper than her hips ever could.

your moan slips out, high and breathless, as your back arches into her. the idea, raw and reckless makes your whole body burn.

“god, yes,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. “minjeong…”

minjeong wraps her arms around your legs, lifting your hips just enough as she positions herself at your entrance. she pushes forward slowly, giving you time to adjust as she enters you.

she's large, much larger than anything you've ever taken before, and the slow stretch is almost unbearably pleasurable. her breath hitches as she leans over you, foreheads brushing, eyes locked.

“shit,” she murmurs, almost like a confession, “i missed this. missed feeling you around me.”

as she slides in deeper, minjeong lets out a low groan. her hips moving slowly as she fills you completely. she leans down to kiss your neck gently, her cock throbbing inside you with each slow thrust.

you feel everything—every slow, intentional shift of her body against yours. she moves deeper, the stretch making your breath catch, your fingers digging into her back. she keeps the pace unhurried, like she wants you to feel every second of it.

“you feel like heaven.” she whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, voice thick with awe. her breath is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

her kisses trail lower, mouth finding the curve of your neck. she presses gentle, open-mouthed kisses there—sucking, nibbling, leaving faint bruises in her wake. she spots the light marks she left last night and her mouth quirks into a smirk against your skin, proud. possessive. like she wants the whole world to know you’re hers.

the couch shifts beneath you, soft creaks escaping with each motion as minjeong picks up her pace. her grip on your hips tightens, eyes locked on yours—dark, unwavering. there’s something urgent in the way she moves now, every thrust deeper, more certain, like she’s trying to prove something. like she’s chasing a feeling only you can give her.

your hands cling to her shoulders, breath stuttering as she presses even closer, bodies moving in sync. her name falls from your lips in a whisper, and she answers it with a deep and claiming kiss, like a promise she doesn’t dare say out loud.

you can feel it building—tight, dizzying in your chest, in the way your breath catches every time her hips meet yours. the couch creaks beneath you, but it’s the least of your concerns. your fingers curl into her shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to.

tears prick at the corners of your eyes—not from pain, but from how overwhelming it feels. how good. how much. “minjeong—” her name spills out of you like a prayer, like a warning.

she leans down, her voice low, curling into the shell of your ear. “did you miss my cock?” she breathes. “missed this big dick stretching you wide open?”

her movements aren’t rushed, but there’s weight behind them. purpose. like she’s trying to prove something. and maybe she is.

you moan softly at her question, your breath shallow, as minjeong’s hand presses against your thigh, urging you to respond.

“use your words, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

you try to speak, but it comes out broken—caught between a gasp and a moan. “y-yeah,” you breathe, barely audible. “missed it. missed you.”

minjeong smiles, slow, dangerous. “there it is.”

her voice is low, rough around the edges, and you feel it more than you hear it.

your thighs tighten. your fingers dig into her back like you’re afraid she might vanish if you let go.

“you gonna cum for me?” she moves again this time deeper, sharper, and your head falls back, a sound you don’t recognize tearing from your throat.

it’s too much.

but you don’t want her to stop.

your breath stutters—

“fu–fuck,” you whisper, voice cracking, body going taut beneath her.

“i’m gonna—” you can’t even finish. the words get lost somewhere between your tongue and the burn building in your core.

minjeong doesn’t stop. she doesn’t slow. she finds that spot—the spot—and hits it again, again, again.

your back arches.

“right there—god, right there,” you cry out, voice breaking as your fingers clutch at her shoulders like lifelines.

“take it,” she mutters, low and wrecked. “take all of it.”

and you do.

you come undone with her name on your lips, body trembling as she keeps moving through it, pulling the pleasure out of you until there’s nothing left but the sound of your heartbeat and her breath in your ear.

but minjeong doesn’t slow down.

doesn’t loosen her grip.

your pleas melt into the air—ignored—as her arms wrap tighter around your waist, anchoring you in place while her hips keep driving into yours, unrelenting.

“m-minjeong, wait—” your voice cracks. “please, it’s too—”

she leans in close, breath hot against your ear.

“just a little longer,” she murmurs, low and steady. “let jeongie have you a bit more, yeah?”

and she doesn’t stop.

not until her hips stutter, her breath catches, and she presses in deep—so deep—as the heat of her release spreads between you.

and still, she holds you like she never wants to let go.

you’re gasping, hips jerking, thighs trembling—but she just pulls you closer, arms locked tight around your waist. “min—,” you breathe out, voice shaky, raw. “too much—”

“shh,” she murmurs against your neck. “just a little more. let me feel you.”

your body’s already aching, overly sensitive, and she’s still grinding into you, slow but deep, like she doesn’t want to let go. and then her hand slips between your legs—fingers finding your clit, rubbing in soft, practiced circles.

you cry out, legs kicking as your body clenches around her.

“that’s it,” she whispers, lips brushing your ear while she releases her heavy load into you. “still so good for me.”

your mind blanks. your body burns. and when the next wave crashes over you, all you can do is hold on.

and after what feels like forever, minjeong finally eases out of you with a low, satisfied sigh, resting her semi-soft dick on your stomach. she watches with a smirk as more of her load drips from her tip, painting your belly white.

you shiver at the loss, breath still shaky as your body tries to come down from the high.

her thick, creamy seed spills out of your now red, puffy pussy and onto your couch.

she watches the mess between your legs, her gaze warm, a little smug. “look at you,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers gently along your thigh. “you look so pretty like this.”

you don’t say anything. can’t, really. you’re still trying to catch your breath, body trembling beneath her touch.

she giggles cruelly, running her fingers through the cum on your stomach. "you know what's funny? you were so mean to me yesterday, and now you're taking my cum like a good little whore. maybe i should fuck you more often, just to remind you who's in charge."

you spit the words out through gritted teeth. “fuck you.”

your voice shakes—half with rage that you let her ruin you, half with the aftershocks still rolling through your body.

minjeong just laughs, her eyes gleaming, that wicked little smile stretching wider. “i love you too.” she mocks, low and sweet like poison.

in slow, deliberate motions—she drags two fingers through the mess on your stomach and brings them to your lips.

“open,” she says, soft and cruel

you don’t move.

not at first.

your eyes lock, your jaw clenched tight, and for a second—just a second—you think maybe she’ll back off.

but of course she doesn’t.

“c’mon, baby,” she coos, tilting her head, fingers brushing your bottom lip. “don’t act shy now.”

you glare at her, fire in your chest and humiliation burning under your skin.

but your mouth opens anyway.

she slips her fingers in, slow, letting them rest heavy on your tongue before pulling them back out with a wet pop.

“good girl,” she whispers, standing up and wiping her hand off on your discarded shirt like it means nothing.

like you mean nothing.

minjeong dresses slow, like she’s got all the time in the world—pulling her hoodie back over her head with steady hands, stepping into her pants without so much as a glance your way. she smooths her hair down, fresh and composed, while you’re still laid out, sticky and bare, skin marked by her.

“you should stay like that,” she says, eyes dragging over you as she grabs her phone and keys.

just before she leaves, she turns back. leans down. kisses you hard—rough and full of something that feels too much like ownership.

it’s over before you can even kiss her back.

“i’ll call you later tonight.” she murmurs, voice low, sharp with something possessive.

she straightens up, fixes her hair one last time, then turns for the door.

you stare at the ceiling, jaw tight, chest aching.

the door clicks shut.

and you’re still laying there, legs sore, lips swollen, throat dry.

“…fuck,” you mutter, fists curling in the fabric beneath you.

you shift on the couch, still gross, still aching in a way that feels more emotional than anything else. and it hits you all over again—she really just showed up, ruined your life for the third time, kissed you like she owned you, and walked out like she didn’t.

you sit up slowly, pull the blanket off the back of the couch, and wrap it around yourself like it’ll do anything to help.

it won’t.

your phone buzzes. you don’t even have to check the screen, you already know it’s her.

because she always wants the last word.

always needs to remind you that this isn’t over—never really is. that she can leave, yes, but only when she decides to. only when you finally start to believe you’re better off without her.

you flip the phone over.

a message.

minjeong: good tasting you again

minjeong: lol get it

minjeong: don’t forget what we are

no apology. no explanation. just that.

you stare at the words, heart still hammering in your chest, body aching in all the ways she wanted.

and then you set the phone down.

you don’t answer, don’t cry, and you don’t scream. you just sit there. quiet. because you know how this goes. she’ll be back, she always comes back.

and you—

you’ll always drown.

she’ll always pull you back down,

no matter how hard you try to save yourself.

longest smut i’ve ever written omds, anyways i hoped you guys noticed how winter never said a real apology to yn 😞don’t forget to like and subscribe for more BANGERS if u enjoyed this 🔥🔥🔥

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 04. FELLED BY YOU

a/n: i've served three chapters of angst and teasing and almosts that never came to fruition. but today is the day! today logan howlett gets fucked. i mean...does the fucking. you know what i mean. there's gonna be some hints of pain, but really he's starting to focus more on getting it right this time around. so be prepared for the filth to come.

summary: the importance of you slammed into him during your two weeks spent apart. yet when he's forced to confront the truth, he finds himself stuck between having you or hurting you.

word count: 9.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, wade continues to be the worlds worst wingman, yearning, angst, fluff, flirting heavily, nasty sex, p in v sex, logan gets flashed in a good way, oral (f receiving), reverence and romance, logan is an idiot until he's not, exhibitionsim (kinda if you squint really hard), pain play cause he's a whore, he lifts you cause he's strong like that.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

Time didn't exist in a linear line for him. Never a single point that drew his life from one spot to another. His constant loss of memories and different universes left him numb to the concept as a whole. He found it better to ignore the thought—move past the tragedies that came next quicker than what already happened.

What was time to an immortal man who'd lived through too much already?

What did he have left to lose?

He never found himself counting the minutes, hours, and days before you. To him, they were a jumble of things that only shifted to become one solid fact. A year he'd never get back. Moments he might one day lose. Faces he would one day come to outlive—to see grow old and pass. People he'd never meet again.

He didn't bother with it.

Until he spent a night wrapped around you and fell asleep with no nightmares. He woke up long before you ever would—dawn barely cracking across the night's darkened armor. The clock on your nightstand read five a.m., but his body shouted something different. He wasn't fatigued like every other morning coupled with endless nights of no sleep, dreading the next time he had no choice but to close his eyes.

Logan almost wished he crawled back into the bed in order to watch you be roused from sleep with the beep of your alarm. He should have. At least then he'd be counted as a smart man for not sneaking out and heading home. Even thinking of what came to your mind when you woke up sent pain down his chest.

"Punch buggy!" A gloved fist slammed into his shoulder with enough weight behind it to cause the car to jerk left.

"Fuck!" he growled, slamming his foot on the brake and whipping around to embed his claws in Wade's leg. "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!"

"Rules of the highway Log–"

Red splattered against his makeshift yellow suit as he dug his other set of claws into Wade's chest with a roar. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of a small red car whizzing by. The driver laying on the horn with an anger Logan felt at the base of his stomach. Wade pointed to it with a smile in a meager attempt to lighten the mood.

He wouldn't say he was on edge. That would be a pathetic attempt at lying.

He passed edge one week and six days ago. Twenty-four hours after leaving your apartment Logan met the edge of his anger, and flew right off without bothering to keep himself in check. Two weeks without your presence. The sound of your voice, the warmth of your scent. Two weeks of a fucking mission Wade convinced him to go on; with the claim that they'd be back before Friday.

Which wound up extending to yet another five days of being stuck in the back fucking woods of Virginia—stuffed into an already small truck. The rhythmic clunk of the shovels in the bed slamming against the side already had him gritting his teeth. An hour of driving with Wade's game of spotting cars caused him to almost crack his molars.

Logan wasn't a patient man.

He swung first and asked questions later. That was his way of living. Two weeks of counting the seconds as they passed by like molasses only seemed to reaffirm that fact. He knew irony lingered in the truth; an immortal man who held less than an ounce of patience in his body.

There had to be a joke in there somewhere that Wade would no doubt yank out before the end of this trip.

Retracting his claws, he settled back in his seat to glare at the deserted long road ahead of them that seemed to lead nowhere. The car became a prison he couldn't escape an hour ago. And the appeal of trying to kill the man beside him only grew the longer he sat there. Logan already felt like a piece of shit for leaving with no explanation. He didn't need Wade's blood to make it worse.

With a huff he slammed open the car door and got out. The air was hot, stale, and left him choking in the leather suit that already clung to his skin. He tugged at the collar, sucking in air to get his heart to stop racing.

It proved to be difficult when your face distraught with tears began to morph, take shape into the you he couldn't save.

"Something tells me this has nothing to do with not getting to visit pound town before we left." When he was met with a wall of silence, Wade's head fell back with a groan. "Please hold while we deal with another existential crisis guys. He'll get there eventually."

Logan's fingers curled into fists. Wade—relentless as he was—refused to be pushed away this time. He leaned against the car, twirling his baby knife as Logan tried to hold back every ounce of fucking anger that needed an outlet. None of it was pointed at the Merc with a Mouth. Not even the nonsensical comments could penetrate Logan's otherwise silent exterior.

No, Logan knew exactly where the anger was directed. He knew that all of this rage stemmed from his own self loathing. For doing to you what he knew would hurt the most. For doing...exactly what the other you did.

Leaving wouldn't give him the opportunity to run from his pain. Fuck he figured that out a long time ago, but that never stopped him from trying.

He was an old dog with one singular trick. Hurting the ones he loved.

"Just call sweet angel up, say that you're with your old pal Wade, and explain in extreme detail how you'd love to bend her over every surface in that apartment you stare longingly at like you're waiting for her to return from war."

Telling him to shut the fuck up would only incur more bullshit to leave his mouth. Logan chose the easier route and stared into space; focused on the way his heart began to slow the more he thought about that night. How you slept against him without fear. Your hands pressed to his chest, face tucked into his shoulder. Somehow in the span of a few hours you were able to make him feel normal again.

"How much longer do I have to deal with your fuckin' bullshit?"

"One day give or take who drives."

"You're not driving."

Wade shrugged. "Your mistake." With a swift turn, he leapt into the bed of the truck and grabbed the two shovels. "Now give me a smile with those Tony award winning teeth of yours cause we've got work to do."

The endless nothingness of fields and flat ground would eventually drive him insane. One more day didn't sound awful if he knew that you were waiting for him at the end of all this. But that remained the problem he couldn't solve—the nightmare that followed him in his waking world. What if you weren't there? What if that was his final chance and you made the choice for him?

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the sun. "Alright. Give me the damn shovel."

The constant tapping of your boss's pen was going to drive you insane. Although if someone were to ask you, this wasn't the first time in the past two weeks that you were holding onto your temper by the skin of your teeth. In fact, you couldn't recall a time where your body and mind had been this on edge. As if you were a rubber band pulled tight, ready to snap at a moment's notice.

"Three days off?" Her voice remained monotone—grating against your already racing mind.

"Yes," you replied.

The request would go through without issue; you'd been here before, asking the same routine questions. Only this time you felt the unease from that morning begin to work its way through your body. Doubt lay heavy on your heart the more you ran each minute in your mind. Combing over where you might have gone wrong—what would have made him want to leave.

Waking up without Logan wasn't what set you on a path to self-destruction. At first, you were logical enough to assume that he was a busy man; being a superhero and all. He must have a good reason as to why he slipped out of your bed before the sun could fully rise, leaving behind nothing but flowers that now sat dead in a vase, and a brand new door.

Two weeks without a single word—without an explanation or a reason—began to grate on your mind. Pulling at each worry with an intensity that left you winded. Until you were forced to confront the idea that this whole thing...what you and Logan intended to start...wasn't what he had in mind to begin with.

"I'll grant you the days." The slow build of relief flooded your nerves that were already shot to shit. "Just next time you decide to sneak a guest in, please make sure he signs for a visitor's pass."

A familiar wave of discomfort spilled in your chest. Getting caught wasn't on your schedule of things to happen when it came to your job. Then again, having Logan in your life wasn't a part of your plan either. Yet somehow that happened as naturally as taking a deep breath of fresh air.

He didn't step into your life with a stoic aura of peace.

Logan crashed into it head first without a choice.

You remained a gravitational pull, an orbit he couldn't escape from, and without warning he'd been pulled to you. Where he'd exist until it was time for him to be set free.

What remained of your fear—the one thing that kept you from falling wholeheartedly—was that one day Logan might come to the decision all on his own. Without bothering to tell you, or let you in on the secret. That after all that happened...he might want to be set free. If he didn't already.

The walk back to your apartment dragged longer than it should. Your steps were slower, mind entirely distracted from the task at hand, and body aching from lack of sleep. Two weeks without Logan left you questioning why you bothered to pursue him at all. Why had you given him so much freedom to roam in and out of your life? Especially when you'd never done that with any other person before.

You knew the answer.

Logan offered you a chance to live in a way you never thought of before. Fear of the unknown kept you complacent; stuck in your ways. In such a short time he managed to slowly peel away what still remained. The anxiety that lingered in your heart at the thought of being loved—of falling in love.

He shattered your walls without even trying.

Accepting that is what left you struggling to breathe after drowning in what he gave. You were supposed to be the one to lead him out of the dark waters, back to a shore of safety, yet somehow he pulled you right in with him.

That is what kept you right on the edge of whatever this could possibly become.

You wanted to ask him why he left. Dig into his thoughts and pull free your answers. He might give you a fight—knowing what Wade told you about him having a tough exterior—but this wasn't nothing to you. All you wanted was to know that he held the same belief. That this meant something.

Calling his phone never worked—going directly to a voicemail box he never set up. Texting him wasn't an option, and you couldn't exactly write him a handwritten letter to send off without an address of where to go. Which left you here. Stuck in the radio silence and waiting for a response to crack through all the static.

Digging for your keys at the bottom of your work bag nearly caused you to miss the woman standing by your door. Her hair was tied into a messy updo, showcasing the familiar white streaks you'd seen before. Something akin to joy flushed through your body as Vanessa pushed away from the wall—two coffees held in her hands and a paper bag that smelled eerily like bagels tucked into her arm.

"I wonder when I'd see you again," you said, catching her smile as you slid the key into your new lock with ease.

"Blame Wade. He's been keeping me hostage for weeks."

You snorted, tossing your bag and coat on the table. The flowers—now dried and falling to pieces—still remained the centerpiece of your apartment. Petals were scattered along the wood, some now on the floor. But you couldn't find it in yourself to throw them out. You still held out hope that they might bring him back to you, even if he didn't want to return.

"I don't need to know the gory details," you sighed, accepting the tepid coffee and cold bagel. "How long did you wait?"

"Thirty minutes." She fell to your couch with a groan, kicking off her heeled boots. "I figured you were well into the first stage of wallowing and might need someone to drag you out of it."

"I'm not–"

Her eyes fell to the bouquet, lips pursed as if fighting a smile. "And those are from who again?"

"Just because I kept them doesn't mean I'm wallowing." You collapsed beside her, exhaustion withering your body quicker than the sun did with those flowers. "I just haven't cleaned yet."

"Right."

Vanessa had been your friend since Wade moved in across the street and accidentally almost killed you in the middle of the street. She wound up apologizing for him with two bottles of wine and hours of conversation. Even in the midst of their breakup, she still solidified herself in your life with nights of movies and days out in the city. You never thought you'd get a friend out of living here, but somehow life without Ness in it felt bleak.

Which gave her the ability to read you like an open book. She'd seen what you looked like after a breakup—she’d endured countless talking stages with you—and was able to pick out the signs of what your pain looked like.

"He's coming back, you know."

Your heart fluttered at the mere mention of his existence; you silently cursed yourself for it. "Did Wade tell you that?"

She nodded, taking a sip of the shitty cold coffee with a grimace. "I love the man, but he has the worst timing."

"Timing?" You sat up, alert for the first time since waking up alone. "What are you talking about?"

"I figured you didn't know," she sighed. "Logan didn't leave because he wanted to. Trust me I'm pretty sure if given the choice he'd lock both of you in here until we had to call the police." She didn't give you room to interject—even as you started to speak. "He's an X-Man babe. And well Wade—dipshit that he is—decided to drag him on a mission at the worst fucking second."

The words hung in the air for longer than either of you wanted, but your mind was racing a mile a minute. Mission. A fucking mission. How could you have been so quick to jump to conclusions?

You knew who Logan was the second you met. Understood the importance he held. Yet you never pieced together that two weeks of no contact might have meant something entirely different than a breakup.

"He's..."

"On a mission," she replied—lazily biting into her bagel.

"With Wade?"

She spoke around a mouthful of cream cheese. "If he could die, he'd be a goner."

Already the picture was starting to form. Logan stuck for two weeks with a shitty phone that didn't work, constantly bugged by a man who had a mouth that shit talked faster than he could think. He left to try and be the man he wanted people to see him as. The man that still held a legacy in this universe.

You simply forgot to contend with the fact that you weren't just opening your life up to James Howlett...you were making space for the Wolverine too.

"A year's worth of panic just crossed your face. Wanna talk about it?"

What was there left to say? That you'd been an idiot for believing Logan would leave you high and dry? For letting your doubts get the better of you yet again? Or should you explain that for two weeks you felt an emptiness that scared the absolute shit out of you? As if he ripped a hole in your chest with his claws and had no intention of patching it back up.

"Wade told you this himself?"

She stood, heading straight for the vintage cabinet in your living room that held whatever liquor you kept in stock. "More or less. It was hard to hear him over all the screaming in the background."

Somehow her words didn't phase you—even as she continued to speak about the possibility of what they were up to. You caught the words shovel and stole a truck but nothing beyond that. You took the glass of wine without question—mind focused entirely on the man who managed to turn your word on its head in such a short time.

"When do they get back?"

Her lips curved into a smile that told you one thing: I got you right where I want you.

It took no time at all for you to be thinking of the next time you saw him and hiding it from her felt like trying to build a wall with space on the sides. Enough room for her to sneak into your mind and tug out the truth.

"Tomorrow." She took a sip, settled back down beside you, and reached for the remote. "Wade's throwing a party. Your attendance is mandatory."

A second barely passed before your response was spilling free. Excitement now replacing the doubt that willed itself to stay.

"I'll be there."

"Who had money on the great honey badger expedition?" Wade called out to the rather full living room.

You sat curled on the couch beside Vanessa—a red solo cup filled with shitty beer perched on your knee, condensation spilling across your hand. Dopinder was halfway into a story about his first solo job, Colossus was crammed into a small seat, and Logan sat at the table—his eyes a searing burn against the side of your face.

"Shit," Vaness sighed, digging into her front pocket—a twenty slapped into Wade's hand with a kiss.

You gasped. "Traitor."

"I really thought we were gonna win."

"Who did you bet against?" Your eyes caught sight of the cash getting slipped in Althea's hand—her smile cocky enough to give Wade a run for his money. "Of course."

"If it makes you feel better, Wade is done trying to play matchmaker between you two."

You wondered if you said the word bullshit loud enough it would penetrate through Wade's wall of not listening. The temptation was there. Though you decided to remain silent...for Logan's sake.

Since they returned, he barely said more than a few words to you. Them being hello and I tried to call. You both knew the second part was purely fictional, but figured it was easier to remain silent about it. Arguing wasn't something you were keen on doing—given that he had more than enough time to offer an explanation.

Yet he chose to put distance between the two of you. Sitting in sullen silence, a glass of whiskey nursed slowly and eyes latched onto the way you laughed.

He wanted to speak to you. Tell you how often he thought of you—how many times he made a note of something interesting or funny to regale you with once he returned. But the knowledge that you might very well hate him for leaving silently and without a promise of return, put everything to the back of his mind.

Reconciling with you was the first thing he planned to do.

Yet like he did in his own universe, he chose to keep you at arms length. Away from the insanity of his volatile emotions and dangerous demeanor. You were too good; too breakable.

"Fox and friends!" Wade's voice dragged his attention away from you. Even mere feet away Logan felt you right down to his fucking bones. "I have a special surprise for you heathens. Yeah that's right I'm looking at you Sugar Bear."

A hand gripped Logan's shirt, dragging him up from the chair as he struggled not to slam his fist into Wade's throat. "We're gonna play a little game I like to call Forty Five Minutes In The Closet. I'll pick two people and they'll have to hide the two hundred and seventh bone in the human body."

"It's called seven minutes in heaven. Dumbass," Al muttered.

"No. No, that's something else."

Logan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck at the sight of your smile. How you lit up at Wade's humor. You wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, yet he couldn't place a time where you looked more beautiful. If it weren't for the grip Wade had on his shoulder, he'd be asking you to meet him in the hallway—an apology already set on the tip of his tongue.

"Anyways!" Wade shook him violently—knowing that if Logan met his irritation with violence he'd have another problem to worry about. "I nominate this broad shouldered—thick muscled—thunder cunt from down under cunt to be our first contestant."

His eyes flicked to the side, lips curving into a smirk that could only be categorized as diabolical. "Drink some water girls cause things are about to get good."

Vanessa smiled, yanking your arm into the air without warning. "I nominate her to go with him."

"That's right you do baby!" Wade shouted.

"No," Logan growled, yanking his arm away from Wade.

Only to catch how your face fell. You tried to mask it with a laugh, but he could see the damage was done. All the doubts that you fought against began to slowly rise to the surface; each moment spent with him now a time you wanted to get back. But like a trooper, you stood with a glare in Vanessa's direction, and walked towards the hall closet barely big enough for two coats and a broom.

"Go go," Wade shoved him (violently) in your direction, and held the door for Logan to squeeze in beside you. "Now some ground rules. The walls are paper thin so if you end up dancing the Devil's Tango, we'll be making popcorn to go along with the show. Oh and any procreations that come out of this automatically get named Wade."

"You're disgusting," Logan snarled.

"Wade I don't think–"

You heard a loud have fun from everyone outside before the door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the both of you whole. Yet you felt how close he stood even with your eyes still trained on the door. Heat radiated off his body in waves, soaking into yours with ease. His breath came in quick but released slowly as if he was trying his best to keep his temper steady.

At this point blaming him for losing it wasn't an option. Not when you never expected the night to wind up like this.

You sucked in a deep breath, hands shaking when your heart began to race. You tried to appease every improper thought that entered your mind, but failed spectacularly as they kept on coming. Another sharp inhale echoed mere inches away—his body tensing as your scent deepened. Calling to him like a siren song he needed to answer.

"Stop that," he ground out, fingers curling into fists to keep himself apart from you.

Your eyes met his searing gaze even in the pitch black. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're not. But your body is." He huffed, feeling his willpower begin to splinter when your heart jumped. "How long do we have to...ya know..."

It took you a minute to realize that Logan was suddenly bashful. The urge to reach for a flashlight to see the red that most likely tinted the top of his ears reared its head. You would have done it if it weren't for the way his entire body flinched. His back now pushed against the wall furthest from you.

"Seven minutes," you murmured. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine."

You'd never seen him this on edge before. So close to snapping.

Perhaps it was the way he reacted whilst in your vicinity, or the fact that this was the most he'd said to you in twenty four hours. But the doubt you harbored for two weeks slowly began to shift into a wave of anger. One that demanded at least one final answer as to what you were doing here. What this meant to him.

You wouldn't continue pining after a man who couldn't give it to you straight; not after you gave him so much.

"At least now I can ask you what's going on."

He stiffened, his head snapping up to see your face begin to shift—your tone sharper than before. "What?"

"You heard me Howlett." His lips twitched at the sound of his last name. You fought the urge to land a punch to his jaw he'd barely. "Two weeks of no contact. You gave me nothing. And I was fine with it because I knew you were with Wade, but this? Avoiding me so you don't have to give me a reason as to why?"

"Honey–"

Your eyes narrowed, shutting him up quicker than he expected. "I'm not done talking." Another deep breath set off the last of your rant. "If you don't want to continue whatever this is then that's fine. I've moved on from guys like you before. I can do it again. But now you don't even want to be near me. I don't know what I did to make you–"

The step he took came unexpectedly. As did the next and the next until you were pinned to the wall behind you—his hands on either side of your head. Whatever fight you had left in your system fizzled out when his head dipped and lips slid down the side of your neck. Kissing gently at the vein he longed to sink his teeth into.

"Logan," you gasped, tilting your entire body his way. The reaction was involuntary. As if he possessed you in ways you never expected.

The smile he pressed to your cheek told you he liked it.

"That's what you think huh bub? That I don't wanna be near you?"

"Y-Yes..."

He chuckled. "I just spent two fuckin' weeks in a car with that walking mouth. You think I went of my own free will?" The breath that ghosted along your cheek caused your whole body to shiver. "'M stayin' away honey cause if I get too close I'm gonna do things to you that you aren't ready for."

A fire began to unfurl in the base of your stomach, rapidly coursing through your body without a single warning. He let it happen. He held you there, lips so close you could taste his whiskey on the tip of your tongue, and waited for you to speak. Waited for you to make your final choice about him.

"And if I am?" Your fingers curled into his shirt, chin lifting in a show of defiance. "Ready?"

He groaned at the sight of your fire coming back, his forehead falling to press against yours. "Don't say shit you don't mean."

"I do mean it."

Logan felt his entire body crumple as the familiar sound of his claws echoed in the small space—dust from the now split wall dropping onto your clothes. He could hear Wade's shout of disdain through the already thin walls. But his sole focus was on the way your breath quickened, how your fingers dug beneath his flannel and onto his thin beater.

"What do you want from me honey? Say it. I'll fuckin’ do anything."

The echo of your breathy whine fucked him up for good; ruined any chance of sanity for the rest of the night. If the closet wasn't so damn small he'd grind you along his thigh to watch your mouth go slack. He'd drop to his knees to taste you and drag you over the edge again and again without any intention of stopping.

"I want an apology," you replied, shaking him loose from the haze of lust he found himself stuck in.

His lips curled into a smile. "That right?"

You nodded, fighting against everything in you that screamed to keep this going. To let him kiss you senseless and fuck you against the wall. You didn't care that you were still in Wade's apartment, you didn't care that you were probably down to four minutes and a handful of seconds.

This felt pivotal to the shaky ground you both balanced on. And you were desperate to see what became of the mess that would no doubt come crashing down around you.

"You left." The words were a high gasp as his hand splayed against your stomach. "I-I missed you."

A rumble echoed from the bottom of his chest. "Yeah bub? Ya missed me?"

The words were on the back of your tongue, an explanation on just how much you ached for him. How nights without hearing his voice left you battling demons you usually kept at bay. But his hand was rucking up the bottom of your shirt and the heat of his calloused palm was against bare skin. Dipping lower as your mouth dropped open.

"You got no idea," he growled, lips so close to yours it caused your heart to scream. "How much I fuckin' thought of you. Of this." Fingers slipped beneath the top of your jeans and your head fell back against the wall. "Thought about how sweet you'd taste for me."

"L-Logan–"

He smiled. "Let me give you a proper fuckin' apology."

Echoes of laughter filtered through the already thin door as someone (most likely Wade) told yet another joke. At any other time you would dig up the last strand of your common sense and put an end to Logan's movements. Any other time you'd have enough coherency to understand that if you got caught neither of you would live this down.

Any other time that would have been the first thing on your mind.

But Logan's fingers brushed the edge of your navy blue laced underwear, effectively killing every thought in your head before it could fully form. Your hips canted up into his touch, fingers burying in his hair to tug his face closer. He felt too far even as he pressed you against the cold wall—his body emanating enough heat to have you gasping for air.

"I can smell it," he rasped. "Drivin' me insane honey."

A moan climbed up your throat, but he silenced you easily. His lips found yours in the darkness and you felt your heart cry at knowing he was back. That he wanted you.

You clung to him, tongue meeting his in a messy reunion. All teeth and quick stunted breaths and spit you felt cling to your joined lips. You swallowed his groan with a soft whine of your own. His hand dipped one inch further, fingers prodding against your patch of hair, and you felt your stomach clench.

"Oh–" Your gasp was sharp, loud enough for Logan to cringe as it echoed in the small space.

That didn't stop his fingers from sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. His lips a hot press against your cheek—body caging you into the drywall.

"Gotta be quiet," he whispered.

"S-Sorry–" You dug your teeth into your lip hard enough to taste copper. All in the hopes that it would silence every sound that was desperate to be set free. With the curl of his fingers he struck against your clit in rough strokes, dooming you to the shame that would no doubt come once the both of you stepped out of this closet. "Ah!"

His lips slammed against yours, tongue plunging into your already gaping mouth. He tasted like whiskey. Like everything you longed for in the past two weeks.

Your heart clenched in your chest as he upped the pace of his fingers—the wet echo of your slick now bouncing off the walls. A tremble began to form in your legs and you tugged on his hair to signal what was about to come. But Logan remained one step ahead of you.

He smiled, ignoring the aching throb of his cock as he coaxed you towards a quick and blinding release. One he would replay in his mind for the rest of the night. He knew Wade probably stood outside the door with his ear pressed to the wood, but found he didn't mind. Because you were in his arms, with your lips against his in a dazed kiss, and he had never felt such bliss before.

"C'mon honey. Lemme see you."

"'M almost there," you breathed, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

He wanted to eat you alive.

"I know you are. Can feel you leakin' on my hand." His teeth scraped against the shell of your ear, hips grinding along your thigh for some relief. "Let go so I can fuckin' taste you."

A blinding heat began to build faster than you had time to latch onto it; his fingers now tapping roughly against your pulsing clit. You reached for it, let that feeling begin to consume you. Only for something heavy to slam against the closet door—startling the both of you.

Logan ripped his hand away, his body stumbling to the opposite wall. He looked flushed. As if you were the one about to rip a mind numbing orgasm out of his body. Not the other way around.

You coughed, fixing your shirt and jeans as the door swung open. Wade's cocky smile told you everything you needed to know. Being subtle and playing this off was no longer an option, because he knew what you were up to. He could read it on your face.

"What ya thinkin' about?"

"Wilson–" Logan growled, moving to stand in front of you—his claws itching to slide free and dig into Wade's super-healing flesh.

"Wasn't talking to you peanut." He peeked over Logan's shoulder, his smile big and bright and glaringly obvious. "Don't tell me. You two were also debating the logistics of bringing back Robert Downey Jr. to the MCU."

"Shut your goddamn–"

"Because I think it's a money grab. I mean come on Iron Man? Again?"

Logan began to reach for his neck, but your hands pressing to his waist forced him to freeze. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder with a laugh as you squeezed past the both of them. He felt his heart twist in his chest tight enough to send pain down his spine.

Wade still smiled like an all knowing asshole, but the sight of you joining Vanessa on the couch with a sheepish smile eased the nerves that still jumped under his skin.

"Not another word," he spit, shoving a finger into Wade's chest to force him back a few feet.

The man merely smiled—eyes flicking down to the glaringly obvious bulge in Logan's jeans. "Don't tell me. Whiskey dick again? I've told you it's common–"

His claws came free with a roar. Wade's familiar shriek now echoing through the apartment as he sprinted towards your spot on the couch. In the hopes that you might be able to tame the animal intent on ripping him to shreds.

He could count on one hand how often silence echoed throughout the apartment at night. Each time being when Wade disappeared to Vanessa's place with the intent of returning well past the afternoon. Trash still lingered here and there after the small party, but he ignored it in favor of pouring another glass of whiskey.

Falling to the couch with a groan, he felt the weariness of two weeks with Wade on the road resurface in his body. Eventually he'd will himself to sleep. Still plagued by nightmare after nightmare. Except his mind was stuck on the thought of the closet. How you arched into his body with a whine, how wet you were for him in such a short span of time.

There was something addicting about seeing you confront him with your anger. All the fire you kept locked away suddenly became the sole focus of your energy and Logan found he couldn't get enough.

An hour after you were walked home by Vanessa (Wade in tow behind her), he still could smell you on his fingers. The way your scent clung to his shirt when you were up against him. How you moaned for him. So pretty and willing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sported a hardon for longer than an hour; yet in your presence they always seemed to fucking happen.

The whiskey kept his mind settled on the present moment. On Althea's snores in the background and the city noise that spilled in through the open window. If he was lucky, he'd get twenty minutes in a hot shower with his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

That alone kept him from passing out on the shitty couch—his mind hazy and drunk on lust.

A beep from his now charged phone drew his attention to your window across the street. The light was on. So he knew you were awake. But the sight of you walking out into your living room—a black robe wrapped around your body—had him sitting up straight. He reached for the device, flipping it open to see your name flash across the small screen.

Logan couldn't even remember pressing answer. All he knew was that your voice filled his ear seconds later.

"Hi," you said, tone breathy and high. Flashes of you from earlier began to enter his mind.

"Thought you went to sleep honey."

You smiled, pushing the window open—your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder. "I tried."

"Nightmares?"

"No," you sighed. "Something else."

The feeling from earlier began to lick at his veins again, smoldering beneath the surface of his skin. "Yeah?" You nodded. "What is it?"

The sharp inhale of breath gave him a clear and straight answer. One that had him spreading his legs a bit wider on the couch—eyes fixed on the way you fidgeted with your hands. He wasn't able to get you off earlier; just barely on the precipice of an orgasm before you were rudely interrupted. And though you wouldn't say it out loud, he knew you still felt the remnant of an ongoing fire.

"Wade was kind of an asshole earlier about it," you mumbled.

Logan had never seen you this shy before. He wanted to sear the sight into his mind.

He chuckled, low and raspy; you felt it in your stomach. "He's usually that way."

"He got in the middle of us," you sighed.

"He did." Logan leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs, and watched as you stepped a bit closer to the window. "What about it honey?"

"Well–" Your fingers toyed with the tie of your robe, eyes glued to the way he got to his feet and moved towards the glass. "My door is unlocked."

The robe dropped to the ground with a soft flutter and Logan's mouth went dry. You stood bare before him, the phone clutched in your hand—determination on your face. He felt every part of his body scream at the sight of your skin—your breasts and cunt—presented to him this way. You were a marble statue straight out of a museum and he wasn't worthy of even getting a mere glimpse.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight of his claws coming free—a growl ripping through the phone line. He looked starving. Practically feral at the sight of you like this. You'd never wanted a man to devour you this way before; as if you were the meal to be served up on a silver platter.

Cold air seeped in through your open window, tightening your nipples, and Logan clutched the side of his window frame hard enough for the wood to crack. Your scent lingered in his nose—driving him past the brink of sanity.

"Don't fuckin' move," he snarled, slamming the phone shut in his large palm and heading straight for his door.

Counting the seconds, you remained stuck on the sight of his now empty apartment. People milled along the street down below—the late night goers that headed towards the subway entrance. You only hoped that no one bothered to look up. Or else they'd see you naked and standing before an open window.

Five minutes barely passed before your door was being shoved open, his boots a loud echo in the stark silence of your apartment. You turned—gasping at the sight of him disheveled and panting. His claws slid back as he shut the door with a soft thud that felt like a gun going off. Whatever words you wanted to say—explanations you longed to give for your behavior—died the second he walked towards you. Intent painted blatantly on his face.

Meeting him halfway, you collided against his body with a breathless kiss. Your fingers clung to his back as his hands gripped your bare thighs and hoisted you up. He stumbled forward, slamming you softly against the nearest wall, and took your mouth with a possession you'd never experienced before.

Logan kissed you with a heady fervor that left you dizzy. After so long, the aching need for you began to ebb into a madness that swallowed him whole.

One that demanded to be felt in its entirety.

"I'm sorry," he gasped against your lips, tongue licking along your teeth. "For leaving."

"Logan–"

He shook his head, gripping the back of your neck to draw you in for another kiss. "'M never leaving you again honey. Got that?"

With a nod, you pulled him back—tasting the remnants of whiskey and a cigar he must have smoked after you left. He growled into you, hips chasing your dripping cunt as it slid along the crotch of his jeans. Soaking him before he could even get a chance to taste.

There was no denying what this would lead towards. What those days of conversations and quick glances would amount to when the tension finally broke. Logan expected to be left with the fragments of a broken relationship that never was. You were adamant on making it become more.

"I want–" You pulled away with a sharp gasp, his lips slotting against your neck—working down the skin with gentle bites. "Want you inside me."

His forehead pressed to your shoulder, a groan ripping from his chest. "Fuck."

Your lips connected to his neck when he began to walk, teeth sinking into the veins that ran down into his shirt. Logan had to struggle to keep his feet straight—his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. He couldn't figure out how he managed to have such a stroke of luck. What occurred for him to have you in his arms, naked and wanton and grinding against his leaking cock that smeared inside his jeans.

A soft moan was pressed to his ear when he dragged your hips along his. The final steps into your bedroom now turning into a race to get you spread beneath him. To finally have you in ways that left him worried for his own psyche.

"Driving me fuckin' insane honey," he bit out against your ear, dropping you onto the soft mattress.

You smiled—eyes dark and shining with a cloud of lust. "So are you." Your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "I've been wanting you to touch me for weeks."

He wasn't going to fucking last.

Yanking off his shirt, he let both of them fall to your floor—giving you free reign to drink in the sight of him above you. The soft touch of your fingers trailed down his arms, tracing the veins in fascination. Your lips parted, chest rising and falling with each quick breath, and Logan felt the strings holding his self control in place snap.

He dipped down, sucking your peaked nipple into his mouth with a groan.

"F-Fuck," you sighed, nails digging into his shoulders so hard he felt his skin rip before it healed over. His cock jumped with the pain—hands fisting your soft comforter to keep himself stable.

"Do that again."

He caught a glimpse of your fucked out smile before your fingers were digging into his back, scratching lines across his skin. A loud moan slipped past his lips as he worked his way down your body. Lips trailing along your stomach—teeth sinking into your hips so hard it would hurt tomorrow. And you scratched line after line into his skin.

Adamant on leaving a mark that might stay till the morning.

"I didn't get to taste you," he murmured, hands moving to spread your soft and supple thighs.

"The closet was too small—oh–"

His nose pressed to your mound, inhaling the scent that drove him feral for weeks on end. Logan was fully aware how animalistic he turned the second his eyes landed on your glistening cunt. He wouldn't be surprised if drool began to slip from his mouth at such a pretty sight.

"Fuckin' gorgeous."

Hazel eyes darkened at the sight of you clenching around nothing—your hand delving into his already mussed hair. No response existed when he looked at you like this. When his thumbs spread you obscenely with a hoarse groan.

"Logan," you mewled.

Trying to form a coherent word flew out of your mind, his touch all you could focus on. A sharp cry fell past your lips when his mouth sealed over your cunt. Tongue flicking your clit and thumb sliding between your dripping folds.

Your legs were hitched to his shoulders, body bent upwards as he ate you like his last meal. His eyes fluttered shut with a moan and he sucked at your clit, rolling it along the tip of his tongue. Sounds you'd never heard before ripped from your chest, your fingers scrambling to grab onto his arms. To find an anchor in the dizzying pleasure he dragged you towards.

The simmering heat from hours before rose up in your body quicker than you expected. Reminding you that he'd already brought you to the edge once.

This time wouldn't take long at all.

He groaned, two fingers prodding at your entrance, and buried his tongue between your folds. The wet sound of his mouth sent a flare of need through your chest—drawing your lungs tight and near the precipice of pain. Breath became nonexistent as he lapped at you—his fingers sinking right down to the knuckle. You clawed at his skin, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Fuck–" Rough pads curled along your walls, striking against a spot you'd never reached on your own. It tore a cry from you, your legs now a trembling mess over his shoulders.

But he kept going. Ate you without stopping. As if breathing was secondary to the taste of you spread on his tongue.

"I-I'm gonna—fuck Logan!"

A growl was mumbled into your cunt, eyes now sharp and focused on your face as it screwed up in pleasure. The echo of your slick filled your ears, his fingers pumping into you and mouth drinking down everything you gave him. It all became too much. Until something bright and searing began to unfold in your body.

His teeth scraped your clit with another rumbled sound, and whatever remained to hold you together snapped. A sob of his name was yanked from your throat, fingers gripping at his hair to keep him still as you grinded against his tongue. And he collapsed onto the mattress, hips pushing into the bed while you used him.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes when the final dregs of your release began to seep from your body. Even while his tongue continued to lap at you—roughly moaning at the taste of you leaking into his eager mouth.

"Wait," you sucked in a breath, hand pressed to his head to keep him at bay when pain sparked through your body. "T-Too much."

His lips curled into a smile, canines on display and mouth shiny with your slick. "'M gonna do that again." Your eyes widened in protest, only for him to get to his feet. "But first honey. I'm gonna fuck you."

The flame sparked to life again, slowly simmering at the base of your stomach. You met him halfway, crawling to your knees to reach for his belt buckle. Lips sliding against his in a messy kiss as he shared your taste, licked it into your mouth with a sigh. It wasn't until your hand dipped into his jeans that he stopped you—his eyebrows pulled together and lips swollen.

"Hold on."

"What's wrong?" you murmured, kissing his chest and biting at the muscle.

"Not—ha—" His hand gripped your ass at the feeling of you tugging at his jeans; your fingers slipping down to cup him gently. "Not gonna last very long if you do that bub."

You grinned. "It's only fair. After you got to taste me...James."

"Shit." A hand on your throat dragged you back to his lips, to the hot slide of his tongue along yours. "Later. I'll let ya do whatever the fuck you want with me later."

Oh how you liked the sound of that. Images of getting him beneath you, of his head tipped back in pleasure, filled your mind. They begged you to make it reality.

Logan however had other plans.

"But I want to suck you off," you pouted.

He felt his cock leak down your hand, the pearly precum now spread along your thumb that rubbed at his vein. Weeks of starving for you left him an impatient man. Yet something told him you saw it clearly in the way his whole body tensed. His fingers digging sharply into any part of you he could reach.

Reaching for your leg he hooked it around his waist and knelt on the bed—his jeans and boots in a heap on the floor. Your lips never strayed far from his, fingers dancing along his bare back—feeling the muscles shift beneath hot skin. He wanted to lay you out beneath him, but the need for more began to eat at both your hearts.

This wasn't a quick and fast fuck. He wouldn't leave in the morning with no notice. No, Logan knew that when it came time for the sun to rise in the sky, he'd be back between your thighs with a sated smile on his face.

"Gimme a second honey," he panted, gently removing your hand from his cock. "Don't want to fuck this up."

You laughed, nuzzling his cheek as he dragged his head through your folds. "You won't baby."

The word slipped off your tongue with ease, but he felt like a shot had just gone through his chest. Somewhere between the two weeks spent apart and getting you like this—wrapped around him entirely at peace—Logan made a choice. He understood what this meant. He knew that you weren't temporary.

Perhaps it was stupid of him to dive in so quickly. Perhaps you’d regret this choice in a month or two. But he was tired of hiding from a past version of himself that continued to haunt his waking life.

He wasn't going to be the man who ran.

He would forever remain the man who stayed.

Your face contorted the second he began to slip into your dripping cunt—fingers sharply digging into his shoulders as he stretched you slowly. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip before your head fell back—a guttural moan pulling from your throat at the feel of him.

"Big," you rasped, hips canting down to help him.

White flashed behind his eyes when you clenched, a broken grunt pressed to your chest. "You can take it for me."

"I–" Another short thrust had him slipping into you with a sigh of your name. "O-Oh fuck."

He felt his claws bite at the skin of his knuckles, his teeth now a sharp prick at the top of your breast, as you settled into his lap. Sitting on his cock with a garbled shout of his name. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back to his, and Logan could feel the pull of his orgasm draw tight in his body at the sight of you entirely fucked out.

"You with me?"

Lips curled into a soft smile, your eyes fluttering open. "Feels like you're in my chest," you mumbled.

Pride bloomed in his stomach, mixing with the heat that ate him alive. "Yeah?"

No answer was given because you'd decided it was time to move with a shift of your hips. He let you take the lead, giving what you could take and pulling back when your face screwed up in pain. He wasn't a small man—that he understood plainly. But the sight of you grinding along his lap, fucking yourself on his cock, had him nearly begging for more.

You gripped his shoulders, clambered to your knees, and sunk down on him again in one swift plunge. Logan choked on his spit the second you started to ride him in earnest. Sinking down on him in short repeated thrusts, you found his lips in a kiss that melted away into a mess of teeth.

"So fuckin' perfect." He gripped at your hips, pulling you down on his red and aching cock. "Takin' me like you were made for it honey."

A whimper met his ears at the slight shift in angle—the head of his cock now pounding against the spongy part of your walls. He grinned at the sound, helping you move just a bit quicker in order to chase the high that built rapidly in your body.

"You were made to fuckin' take it huh?"

You nodded, eyes bleary with tears. "Uh huh," you sighed.

"Made to fuck my cock," he growled. "To cum on it."

"L-Logan–" you whined, thighs shaking with the effort of riding him. He noticed seconds before you did.

"I know baby," he cooed, pushing you back onto the bed and sinking into you with a sharp thrust that sent his name careening from your mouth. "'S too much for you."

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he claimed your lips in a final kiss before setting a pace that had you clawing at his shoulders. It was almost punishing how good he fucked you. His hips pounded into yours, the repetitive slap of skin against skin now louder than your combined moans.

You felt the string begin to draw tight again, pulling at each muscle and tendon in your body. The walls of your cunt clamped down tight, drawing him in as your hands braced against his chest—your eyes rolling back at the feel of his body dragging against yours.

"There we go," he grunted, fingers sliding through your slickened mess to rub at your clit in small rough circles. "C'mon bub. Fuckin' cum on it yeah?"

"Ah!" Fighting for breath, you felt your entire body break as bliss flooded your system.

The scream of his name pierced his eardrums and Logan swore he felt his soul snap in half at the sight of you so lost in your pleasure. Chasing his own high, he bracketed his arms against your head, his claws now scratching at the wood of your headboard as he fucked into your pulsing cunt. The feel of your hand on his back, your lips against his jaw, sent him flying off behind you.

A rough snarl tore from his mouth as he came, burying himself deep enough to send pain down your thighs. The warmth of him spurting into you sent another flare of heat down your spine, sating whatever unconscious need you harbored to have him this way.

His head dropped to your chest, claws embedded in your now ruined pillow, as his cock began to soften. Your bodies reaching a level of comfort that hadn't been there before.

You ran a hand through his hair, toying with the locks as your eyes fell shut and legs moved to wrap around his hips. It shocked you how much you longed to remain like this. Pressed against his naked body with sleep lingering on the edges of your mind. You nearly asked if he felt the same, but the contented sigh that brushed against your breast gave you the answer you wanted.

"We're doing that again," he mumbled, kissing at your still hard nipple.

"Soon hopefully," you smiled.

"Mm." His cock stirred to life slowly, sending a wave of surprise down your spine. "Careful what you wish for bub."

"At least let me get some water," you mumbled, drawing his face back to yours—thumb running along his cheek. "Then you can–"

Your eyes flew open at the sound of something blasting from across the street. Logan turned with an irritated grunt as a song began to filter through your open living room window. One that you recognized instantly as WHAM!. Careless Whisper if you were shooting for accuracy.

Logan groaned, dropped his face to the crook of your neck. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill him."

A shout bounced off the buildings, Wade's voice suddenly louder than the song. "That's what I'm talking about honey badger! Al give me back my fucking twenty!"

You laughed, trying to listen to what else he said, even as Logan began to kiss a trail down your shoulder. His mind focused on far more important things than his fucking roommate. The song continued to play, Wade singing along horribly, and you suddenly felt your future encompass you with a warm smile.

A life of joy, of passion, of family.

Sinking into his touch with a sigh, you let the worry fall from you in layers. The promise of this, no longer a fantasy.

note: they finally fucked y'all! if you finished all of this then i love you. drink some water per wade's words from earlier.

[kkochigomi]

the ultimate guide to f***ing nomin

part one | part two

PAIRING: reader x jeno + jaemin

GENRE: smut, angst

SERIES WC: 35k

PART ONE WC: 13.7k

SYNOPSIS: DJ Juliette is over just being a DJ. She misses being a producer and working with artists but no one is biting anymore. She's living from paycheck to paycheck, so when MC receives a pink business card from that company, she should take it. But her fellow SHAWOLs are screaming at her and she knows better. So they send in the heavy arsenal wrapped in head-to-toe Chanel. This woman, named Lindsay Liu, knows she can talk her into it.

WARNINGS: dom!Jeno, switch!Jaemin & mc, PIV, DVP, cunnilingus, thigh humping, spit play, pussyjob, lots of sloppy kissing, deepthroating, rough sex, large... sizes, bisex, very strong language, threesomes, one reference to slight racism/xenophobia (very small inclusion, that character sucks, doesn't go into detail), CONVOLUTED AND CONFUSING AS SHIT, slight language barriers, hella campy/maybe even bad, mc is described as American and having a midsized body, explicit language and descriptions of sex, working at SM Entertainment, mc has a "stage name", Juliette isn't her actual name, let me know what I missed! (had to split this into two parts or Tumblr wouldn't let me post it)

+ dialogue and text messages italicized in their entirety means MC is translating them from Korean!

CHAPTER SIXˋ°•*⁀➷

You couldn’t sleep at all. You wanted desperately to hump your hand, but it seemed too inappropriate and pitiful. So you sulk and stare at the wall, making it so that all three of you are faced away from each other. 

You weren’t seeing things. They definitely left on worse terms than they came. You peaked through your cracked eyelids to avoid an awkward goodbye as they gathered their things at 4 am. They didn’t speak a word to each other, and Jeno left out the door first and closed it behind him. Jaemin stumbles back a bit before sighing in annoyance, rubbing his brow aggressively and swinging the door open.

The door shuts softly as you sit up from your bed. 

What the fuck were you going to do? What were you going to prioritize? All you know for certain is that you have work tomorrow, and that’s not even confirmed. You reflect over everything the guys told you, recalling what you said right after grabbing beer from your fridge. 

“I think I’m gonna quit, this is just too much.” You don’t even try to conceal your exhaustion. You felt less bad about exposing your true thoughts after all three of you took turns trauma dumping. “I don’t care if I have to sue or who I have to sue… I just can’t do it anymore.”

“Absolutely not. I just met you and I can already tell you’re reckless. You’re choosing to possibly lose a lot of money when you can just stay and save up.” Jeno gestured at you with the beer before cracking it open and tipping it back.

Your grip tightened around your can as you resist the urge to glare at Jeno. “You say that as if you weren’t the one to push him to the ground. And money isn’t worth this. This… this is gross. And Lindsay is just making things worse.”

“I’ve had to deal with that asshole for a lot longer than you. If that’s how easily you’ll crack, you’ll have a hard time in this industry. There are a million Mr. Myeongs.” He said after wincing and recovering from chugging the beer. “No… you gotta keep that contract intact and rebel. Smartly.” It sounded pointed, that last part. You rolled your eyes. 

“That’s how you get back at them and stop yourself from losing your mind. You have to play the game and get the money and pursue your dreams– er…” Jeno stopped and shrugged. “Pursue a mangled, disfigured version of your dream.” He tipped the beer back again and your eyes flitted away as your mind drifted. You supposed if you were a singer or a dancer, being an idol wouldn’t be your first choice.

Even the next day, heading to work at five-thirty a.m., his words permeate in your mind. Rebel. Smartly.

No manager or Chris messaged you, so you assumed you weren’t fired. You were still on the schedule as well. That doesn’t settle your stomach, though. You take a deep breath, taking a brief moment as you tap your badge against the sensor. You open the door. 

As you make your way down the hall you notice everyone seems to be staring at you. It makes sense, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. You prepare to decompress in the staff room. Take extra long to put your things away. Is that smart enough for you, Jeno?

However, that wasn’t going to happen because there was a huddle in there. As soon as you walk in, everyone stops talking and stares at you. However, what follows isn’t scowls. They are big smiles. 

“Hey! Jeno and Jaemin took you home on Saturday, right?” A female coworker asks. Before you could deny, a male coworker answered for you. 

“I told you they did. I saw them when I went out the back.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“Were they nice?”

“Did you get their numbers?”

“What happened at the party?”

“Guys shut up! Are you and Jeno dating?”

“I’m guessing you’re following the guide.” Another female coworker stops the onslaught with that contribution. You gape at her, thinking she can’t be referring to what you think she is. But you look down and notice your cropped graphic tee and jeans. You bristle, wanting to give her a piece of your mind, but you can’t when you’re not 100% sure if you’re doing it organically. You shut your eyes tight, forcing that entire thought process away. 

“You saw wrong.” You say to the male coworker. “I didn’t leave with them. I took the bus home like I do every day.” You shove your stuff in your locker before slamming the door and turning on your heels to leave, but you stop. You turn back around with one last bit of input. 

“And I’m aware that even people who claim to hate gossip do so anyway, but there’s a limit before you become destructive.”

You let out a long exhale as you make your way to your first session. Before you even get halfway there, someone calls your name. You tighten your fists at your side before you force a smile and turn around. You aren’t surprised to see Chris, but you are a little fearful.

What is surprising is that Chris offers to take you away from the building to a nearby bistro during your break. He picks something from the menu for you, insisting that you need to try it. You push past the gall of this man to just get through whatever this is. You sit at a small table with him, watching impatiently as he immediately digs in. Once he gets his craving quelled, he finally gets on with it. 

“So we spoke with Myeong Dongkyu…”

Your chest tightens unexpectedly. Are you really dreading this? This is what you wanted, right? Images of Saturday night flash through your mind. You’re by no means a virgin, but you’ve never felt this way about any man. It’s like being a teenager again times ten. More than that, you dread not being able to hang out with Yizhuo in person anymore. 

And it pains you to say it, but the money is nice. Even if you’re not being paid as much as Rouge or any other experienced producer. You’re playing right into their hand. 

“And we came to a decision after much deliberation. Myeong Dongkyu apologizes and has decided to retire.”

Your eyes widen before you look up from your sandwich. Chris seems to pat his own back in response to your shock. 

“Yup! If you ever have problems with any A&R Managers, please never hesitate to speak with me about it.” Chris smiles. You smile back.

As if. 

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Any off time you have is spent on your phone. Smartly. 

Liu Betting. 

Just as Jeno said, there was a company none of the articles on Lindsay mentioned. Maybe it was too new or too sneaky.

“Sports betting is incredibly regulated and you get taxed. Plus, Lindsay hates sports. What she loves, though, are idols. Though I doubt she’s ever even listened to the music, she knew idols more than anyone else. So not only could she do music betting, she could barter off her intel for money or something else she wants from them. Then she got the website made and got any rich person that would listen to buy in.”

What Jeno didn’t mention was the sheer amount of categories. Streams, album sales, photocard rarity (whatever that means), member popularity, the list goes on. 

Under streams and album sales, you see that dearALICE is doing fine. But you assume not good enough to win Lindsay her bet. So she tinkered with things behind the scenes. Convinced SM to consider cheap, desperate labor. That’s what you assume. You know it’s stupid to ask, but did she ever even think your production was good?

You close the site, feeling sick from the grossness of it all. You immediately click on one of Lindsay many messages, planning to go do what you should have done a long time ago. Before you can click on her contact to block her, a message stops you in your tracks. 

Lindsay I see you’ve started seeking Nomin out ;) I know they can be a little difficult, so I gave you a few more tips

Lindsay you guys*

Something else that is overdue is showing Jeno and Jaemin these dehumanizing ‘tips’. You go straight to the app to do just that. You screenshot the initial tips before searching for the new ones.

Lindsay Liu꒰੭

Tip Four: - I’m hearing you guys I’m hearing you! I never said it would be easy! You can’t force them, and I don’t condone any of you guys being aggressive. But I’m hearing the same thing from all of you. Jaemin is an angel and Jeno is his guard dog. Well, that’s my fourth tip. You have to get through Jeno to get anything started. He’s all bark, no bite. Trust me, I know.

That ending boils your blood. You can’t believe it took you this long to see how horrible she is when she’s this brazen.

Tip Five: - Reveal your freaky side organically. Don’t come out immediately talking about your porn addiction or how often you flick the bean. Maybe wait ‘til all three of you are drunk and make out with someone else. Maybe… another girl? Make them think their attraction to you is their idea. Tip Six: - Getting to first base with Jaemin is easy. Doesn’t really mean anything. If you kiss Jeno? You’re in. But you’re not entirely done. Push and pull, guys. Make sure they miss you. Nothing wrong with being easy, that’s just going after what you want. But you want them to be loyal to you. This is a race and a competition. The first to get Nomin to find you irresistible, wins! :D

While you’re grimacing at the screen, a text from NingNing appears at the top of your screen. 

NingNing okay yeah she’s really weird.

yeah…. we have a lot to catch up on lol

NingNing oh??? Are you down to post it in the 00-04z gc?

not yet…

Unfortunately you don’t trust telling anything to that group chat after seeing yet another text Lindsay sent. 

Lindsay You’re going on vacation this Dec? I might come! Also it seems like Jaemin likes you >_>

There’s a mole.

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

Jaemin Can we come over at 4pm?

You were initially confused why they were coming to your cramped apartment again, but then you realize it’s one of the few places they can go to get away. You don’t know why they don’t have other idol friends who they can turn to, but you don’t pry.

When you invite them in, you notice that Jeno is still cagey. He barely greets you as he comes in. Jaemin, however, pulls you into a tight hug that has a smile tugging at your lips. He gives you one last squeeze before he makes his way in. The two of them seemed to have resolved whatever they were going through last time. Both of them settle onto the folded up futon, waiting for you to shut the door and settle back in. 

As you sit on your bed, Jeno immediately gets into it. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about this on Saturday?” Jeno wastes no time grilling you, not that you’re surprised. 

“I was thinking about a lot of other things that day. To be honest I don’t go into that app often. You guys know this. Well,” you nod your head at Jeno, “I guess you wouldn’t know, but Jaemin does. If you’re worried about me changing things about myself to match the tips, I suspect she made these just to send a message to me. I already dressed like this. I never intended to…”

The fact that you’re talking about this directly to their faces and that everyone in this room remembers the drunken make out session makes this conversation unbearable.

“Hm. I don’t know. But um… thanks for showing us anyway.” He mumbles the last part. You would be annoyed if one thing wasn’t true. 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

You hear Jaemin chuckle, and you suppose the sight of you and Jeno mirroring each other’s mild annoyance was a bit funny.

“Anyway, we’re here to celebrate–” There’s a knock at the door and Jaemin reacts to it much too fast for comfort. Jeno backs out of the eyeshot from the door and Jaemin thinks fast and conceals his face with an envelope on your counter. Jaemin fumbles blindly for the door and accepts a food delivery for “Kwangseok”.

As soon as the door closes, it’s like nothing confusing had happened. Jeno peels away from the wall and Jaemin puts the envelope back. He presents the bag of hot food with unadulterated glee on his face, like the food will answer every question your expression raises.

Jeno hums amusedly to your left and you look at him. He grins to himself before glancing at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Mr. Myeong was fired.” He reveals as he grins wider. Your confusion increases before excitement takes its place and stretches your own lips into a smile. 

“No way…” You say, dumbfounded as you let yourself be seated by Jaemin as Jeno takes the bag and unpacks the food.

“Yes way!” Jaemin answers enthusiastically before settling next to you on the folded up futon. “Our manager decided he wasn’t angry after the outcome and told us all about the spectacle.”

You only had a measly fold out table, so the three of you had to eat each dish in shifts. It felt like fine dining with the news you were learning. 

“He said Mr. Myeong was shouting at everyone in the room, throwing things, cursing up a storm and then Chris walked in.” Jaemin takes another bite of his veggie tempura as he and Jeno look at each other mischievously. 

“And then the CEOs walked in.” They announce at the same time before falling into hysterics. You frantically look between them in excitement. 

“What?!”

“H… He started apologizing and got on his knees. Mr. Jang didn’t even curse him out, he just laughed at him–” Jeno can barely catch his breath. 

“– And Mr. Jang just said–” Jaemin starts, excited to get to what seems to be their favorite part. 

“‘You’re not even that high up at the company, why are you acting like this?’” They speak in unison again, Jaemin petering out sooner than Jeno as the laughter overtakes him. You can’t help laughing, yourself, tears pricking at your eyes and stomach aching. Jaemin’s legs spread wide until they’re firm against yours. Jeno’s hand on your shoulder as he tries to recover allows you no time to recover. The lust is numbing, the amusement is long gone as your mind is locked in to imagining them touching you more.

Unfortunately, the two couldn’t get drunk this time, and you didn’t want to drink alone. That means you wouldn’t have the courage to try. Especially after showing them what Lindsay’s been up to. 

Long after the three of you had settled down, Jeno is laser focused on your attire. 

“... You sure you’re not following the guide?”

You can’t help it. Every time your clothes are mentioned, you look at them as if anything other than what you put on would be there. You look at him incredulously, unable to immediately defend yourself with cheeks full of rice cakes. Jeno pops one in his own mouth before pointing at you with his chopsticks, not even bothering to look at your face. 

“Now that I think about it… it makes too much sense.”

“Bro, she said Lindsay made it like that to target her specifically.” Jaemin moves you back with his arm to look directly at Jeno. You tilt your head up to speak but it ends up gargled. You frustratedly try to get your mouth clear faster. 

“So you don’t want to fuck us?” Jeno is looking at you now. You expect to see annoyance or disdain on his face, but he’s instead looking at you like he’s anticipating an answer. An answer he already knows. You finally swallow the food as you stare back, dumbly. 

“She never said that.” Jaemin says, pulling the arm away that you forgot was there. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you tear your eyes away. 

“Me not answering isn’t confirming or denying, I just refuse to play your games.” You start, shooting him a glare. “But why are you focusing on me? I just came here to produce and get paid well. That’s all! I didn’t know Lindsay would be this screwed up!”

Jeno holds your gaze for an agonizing amount of time before finally relenting. “I guess you’re right. We should be focusing on Lindsay.” Jeno is very reluctant to agree with you.

“Or we could just forget about it.” Jaemin interjects. 

“Are you saying that because you don’t want us to waste anymore time on a nut job or because you want to protect her from consequences?” The way Jaemin tensed at the phrase ‘nut job’ was all Jeno needed to see. Jeno stands abruptly from the futon. 

“Whatever, man. She’s gonna get what's coming to her sooner or later. It’s not a matter of who, it’s a matter of when. Besides, I bet she wants to get her revenge as well.”

There’s only one she that would make sense here. You attempt to simultaneously scold Jeno and comfort Jaemin with your eyes as you look between them. 

“I…” You begin cautiously, pausing longer than you intended. What do you want? Your life previously was saccharine without substance. You were out of school, you didn’t have a schedule, and you did whatever you wanted most of the time. But you couldn’t do much with how little you made. You found yourself feeling numb most days. Not happy, but not upset. Maybe that’s why you signed that stupid contract.

Here, you have a lot to be upset about. And the turbulence has been overwhelming. Life here would be perfectly fine in normal circumstances, though.

“I just want to be left alone, okay?” You’re not just saying it to them. You say it with the intention of sending a ripple through the universe to fix all this. The worst part is that Lindsay somehow caught on to the degenerate you are. Was it a guess based off of your favorite otome game, or did she sniff that out somehow as well?

You never joined any kink-positive or BDSM communities because it was too much of a slog to find one. The truth is that you yearn to let your freak flag fly but only attract the most vanilla, self serving men on Earth. But these two, the one whose leg is pressed against yours and the one with that expression that makes your blood boil… if they constantly have threesomes–

“You have to get through to me to “get anything started”, right?”

Jeno pipes up with infuriating timing. Just when you’re imagining being pressed between them, he asks you this? You want to get angry at him but you’re more focused on what’s wrong with you.

“So then help me with Lindsay.”

“I’m not following the guide!” You stand and shout immediately after he speaks, more distressed than angry. “I would never do it, it’s dehumanizing and icky and– just stop saying it!”

You stomp to your bathroom, not caring that you bump his shoulder on the way. You immediately turn on the cold water and put your hands under it. Your body temperature is soaring, the water feels glacial. It’s almost uncomfortable, but it’s working. 

You hear a knock at the door. 

“WHAT?!” You snap unexpectedly. You hear him chuckle behind the door and start to seethe further. 

“Lindsay is breaking the law.”

CHAPTER SEVENˋ°•*⁀➷

As the weather gets colder, your excitement for the ski trip grows. You haven’t been on vacation since you were a child. And you’ve never gone skiing. You’re going to eat shit but you don’t even care. You’re more focused on the luxury ski chalet and a motherfucking break. One of the A&R managers tried to subtly talk you out of calling off for two weeks. If you’re not allowed to break the terms of your contract, you won’t let them do it either. Not even for a second. You’re starting to get what Jeno means. 

He has only emphasized his advice more after you finally caved. 

“I don’t want this to blow up in my face.” You told him the first time the two of you met up at your place. You took the chance to ask why your house and if the paparazzi would start following them at a certain point. He pointed out the obvious, that they can’t get past the gate to get near these complexes. You also learned that there are a lot of producers with home studios here, so celebrities can record in peace. The paparazzi do follow them here, and did publish a story about him and Jaemin releasing a project separate from NCT. Still not ideal, but better.

“You want to know more about Lindsay, you want to be left alone, you don’t want this to blow up in your face. I’m sick of hearing about what you want.” Jeno mutters as he pries his laptop open atop your wobbly fold-up. You look at him, waiting for him to see you questioning his audacity but he never looks back at you.

“Her dad is a billionaire. Not a millionaire, a billionaire. We don’t know the extent of his or her connections or if they have the police on their side–”

“Okay, well, Lindsay’s dad hates her. And so does the general public. And a handful of idols, higher ups at SM, et cetera, et cetera. She’s not as well connected as you think. Also, this wouldn’t be her first run in with the police.”

Finding yourself comfortable with whipping your phone out at work now, you take the opportunity to look into Jeno’s claims. Sure enough, this wouldn’t be her first run in. Or second. Or fourth. She’s been arrested for a DUI, a scam, assaulting someone, and petty theft. You had to read it over and over before you believed it. She just stole makeup at Sephora that she could absolutely afford. Went on record saying she ‘just wanted to try it’. You wish you were surprised or blind sighted. But the red flags were there and you ignored them for SHINee.

An A&R manager, Ms. Alice Lee, bursts through the door of the staff room. You nearly drop your phone at the sound. She smiles smugly at you, eyes then focusing on your phone. You exhale frustratedly as you stuff it in your pocket. Ms. Lee was recently promoted after Mr. Myeong’s departure. Previously one of the people scowling at you for your reputation, she now channels all that malice into micro-management.

“How long is your break for?” She asks with her nasally SoCal affect. You mirror her pinched, snotty expression. You flick away your sleeve dramatically before checking the time. 

“I have five more minutes.” You answer carefully, as if speaking to a child. 

“Good! Then we can have a chat.” You watch in horror as she clacks over to the table and pulls a chair. You expected her to be on her way but now she’s going to use your break time to “chat”? God you hate this place. 

“Yes ma’am.” Your tone is short, a little too frustrated for your liking but you couldn’t catch yourself. 

“A little birdie told me that an idol invited you to go on vacation with them?”

Your stomach drops at the same time her light hearted expression does. The fucking mole. 

“Just ignore them. The idols can be very silly sometimes. I mean, isn’t that just hilarious?” She asks, but doesn’t wait for your confirmation to laugh. She slaps the table as she comes down with a sloping sigh. “I’ll give them a stern talking to.”

“They’re not bothering me.” You respond immediately. “I thought it was a nice gesture–”

“Just! Ignore them.” She interrupts with her brows raised and a small smile. You slide your hand off the table to ball it tight. You grit your teeth, the smile struggling to stay on your face. 

“Don’t scold them.” You ask plainly. “I was never going.”

“Good! Even though… the time you requested off– I hope you don’t mind I checked– aligns with the date they’re going.” She slips her phone from her slacks and opens the app with the schedule on it. “Here. December 14th to the 27th.”

“Yes, that’s correct.” You confirm brazenly. That still doesn’t prove anything. 

“And you do know that it’s outlined in your contract that staff and idols are not to engage in any inappropriate relationships, right? Even if it’s a friendly outing, it’s not organized by the company and it will be unmonitored. It’s too risky. You understand, right?”

“So, what? Do you want me to cancel my requested days off?”

“Just to be safe.” She speaks like she’s doing you a huge favor. “Oh! and you can always schedule them to a different date!”

The smile officially dissipates and you have no intention of bringing it back. You glance at your watch, bristling even more at the fact that your break was over. You shoot up from the table, struggling to contain your anger.

“I already uprooted here to help you guys out–”

“Excuse me?” Her true self comes out in the form of complete and utter contempt. She joins you in standing. “Helped us? I’m sorry, was you helping us accepting a job when you were barely getting work.”

Your heart constricts with exasperation as you gape at the woman. For her to say it so plainly feels like a slap in the face.

“No. Me helping you was filling in for DJ Rouge after he realized his worth and left your sorry asses.” You hold your glare, watching her build up to her tantrum before storming past her. 

“Hey! Have you lost your fucking mind.” She shouts after you, screaming and following you halfway to your next session. Everyone looks on in shock and annoyance at you, whispering not-so-quietly about how you’re already bumping heads with Mr. Myeong’s replacement.

Jay Park⓪② Heol…

Yoon Keeho⓪① I’ll say it. She kind of sounds like a cunt. 

She IS a cunt

Lee Donghyuck⓪⓪ Make your own fckn group chat if you’re gonna speak English

Zhou Xinyu⓪② ugh… we should party that stress off, girl! And you should wear something sexy when we do

Yoon Sangah⓪② I’m down. Karaoke?

Oh Haewon⓪③ How about we go to Lindsay’s place? She has a karaoke machine.

Ning Yizhuo⓪② NO!

Lee Jeno⓪⓪ HELL no

we can’t

Oh Haewon⓪③ … Why not?

Your gut is screaming at you. It would be stupid to ignore it after all you’ve put yourself through, but it feels risky to accuse her with so little to go off of.

she’s not even in this country lol

Oh Haewon⓪③ So? I have a key to this mansion.

Oh god…

Nakamura Kazuha⓪③ What?! 

Oh Haewon⓪③ Ya, She said I can go and do whatever I want, the help would cater to us

Nakamura Kazuha⓪③ no way… lucky!

Yoon Sanha⓪⓪ she gave you a key?!?

Han Chowon⓪② you’re lying…

Baek Jiheon⓪③ KYAAAA I’VE NEVER BEEN TO HER MANSION!

Han Jisung⓪⓪ oh I’m am going to get fucked up

You switch to imessage frantically. 

guys, it’s Haewon. She’s got to be the mole, right?

NingNing Lindsay told me herself that she only had one extra key made

NingNing But I guess she is a bit of a liar… you don’t have to explain it again

Jaemin I think it’s very possible

Asshole oh yeah, it’s definitely her

Asshole Lindsay just texted me to get over my grudge. She must have texted her about me saying hell no to going to a crazy person’s mansion

Haewon doesn’t know, but she ignited a fire underneath Jeno. He barely speaks when he comes in now, just chews on the inside of his cheek while setting up. It’s awkward, but only for a moment. 

“D’you want to know what she did?” He snaps as if he’s been resisting the urge. You agree, but his stories usually just make you sad. Why won’t she just go away? Become interested in J-pop or C-pop idols?

“Yeah…” He laughs indignantly. “I’m a guard dog. But I’m not the problem. Jaemin is horny is shit but gets infatuated and trusts too easily. It’s not a good combination. But she noticed she’d get more intel if she pretended to like him.”

Your eyebrows pinch as a new sensation runs through you. Your heart aches for Jaemin, yes, but…

“What did she do?” You have an inkling, but you’re suddenly restless. 

“They would go on dates, kiss, hold hands, everything a couple would do. She would make sure he was separated from me as much as possible so I couldn’t talk sense into him. One day I went to his apartment and he had it decorated with rose petals and candles, had music playing. He told me I needed to leave because Lindsay would be there soon. It was their anniversary or some shit. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was the day the article came out.”

You cover your mouth when you look at him, but it’s not for the reasons you usually do. Disbelief was the first thing you felt, but that feeling was intensifying. Like you wanted to scream. Throw up?

“We talked about this, but it’s not like we needed to. It was everywhere, but he was too busy doing all of that to know. I stayed as long as I could. Mostly because I wanted to confront her and make her tell him. But also to finally talk to him myself. It turned into a heated argument. It was my fault, I refused to tell him because I didn’t want to hurt him but I took it too far. I tore down the banner he put up. It felt right at the time, he was embarrassing himself. I still refused to leave and he started throwing things. He kept getting hysterical because time kept passing and Lindsay was nowhere to be seen. He just channeled that anger at me. We fought.”

You run your hands over your jeans, trying to focus on the fabric rubbing against your palms. Why couldn’t you calm down?

“I-I’m sorry– are you guys… together?” It wasn’t meant to be the first thought you vocalized but your brain screamed for the verification. Jeno looks at you, suspicious as always. He just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

“It’s not like that. We’re… he’s my soulmate but I don’t… have those feelings. Like, at all.” His voice is quiet, it’s been quiet for a while now. The anger has dissipated in favor of something more tender. You guys have officially swapped places. You fist your jeans. 

“Still! Did she really have to get in between you guys for her stupid fucking plan? It’s so stupid! I don’t even know if there’s been a difference!”

“There has.” He says regrettably. “I don’t know if the quality’s better, but I do know that it’s more productive. Songs are being pumped out faster and regardless of that, SM has more creative control without needing to listen to the producer’s input. Less friction equals even faster production.”

You shoot up from the futon, you don’t know why. You can’t listen to this. You ball your shaking hands. Why are you this angry?

“Did she ever come?” You swing around to look at him, stupidly hopeful. He looks up at you, his face all the confirmation you need.

You remember the day that article dropped. You weren’t even in the fandom by then, but you heard about Heechul cheating on his girlfriend of one year with a billionaire heiress with pictures to boot. So many pictures… pictures of those two sucking face, pictures of both Heechul and Momo crying during their activities. And now you’ve learned there was a whole other layer of cruelty. Not only did Lindsay absolutely know about their public relationship, but she broke Jaemin’s heart in the same instance.

That’s all you can think about as you clutch your binder to your chest is how long this has gone on. That was in 2021. How the hell did that relationship last? 

There is another presentation in the theater today, and you brought the bare minimum. You’re prepared to ask one surface level question so they can’t bitch at you in good faith. Ironically, they’re presenting about the SM formula and why their style is so important to their music. You know it’s not pointed at you this time because you relented a long time ago. They win, your dream is theirs now.

You settle in just before the presentation started so you had a choice in who you were sitting next to– nobody. You zone out, catching crumbs of information. They brought a few SM senior idols on stage and played a few songs. 

“Okay, now feel free to ask questions! A staff member will be around with a mic.” 

You sit up, shaking away the drowsiness. You watch as she makes her way up the hall, handing to mic to different try-hards that judge you for not being a proud kiss ass. Kang Seojin cracks open his thousand-page encyclopedia and asks a question that wows the presenter. Wu Zixin submits an entry to the colon-cleaning olympics by framing his adoration for SM in a question. Two men who openly gossip about you with the intention of you hearing it. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, waiting for her to get closer to the back so you can get this over with. Finally, you’re able to flag her down and ask your question that has the presenter stammering. 

“Is that it?” He laughs, igniting laughter all around the room. You feign franticness and flip through your binder. 

“I could ask another if you��d like!” You copy the tone of your coworkers, hoping you sound eager to please. 

“No, no. That’s fine. Key, would you like to answer?” 

Key smiles and kicks his leg over the other before raising the mic. Your heart pulses at the sight of him. It’s your first time seeing him in person.

“Of course.” He says your name to confirm he’s got it right. You stammer, looking around like you’re looking for clarification. Key knows your name? It is such a Lindsay move to lie about everything else but this. You nod before confirming into the mic. He answers your simple question and all of a sudden you’re embarrassed at the simplicity of it. Because of that, the interaction is brief, applause rings out around you and you sit down in shock. 

The rest of the presentation is a blur. You’re focused on it ending so you can flag him down. You have to know if it’s real. Did he really listen to your old demos?

Could he help?

The minute the presenter thanks everyone for listening, you’re up out of your chair. You try to look casual as you speed toward the side of the stage Key is leaving at. 

“Hey!” You say excitedly. He turns around, confused initially before a look of realization washes over him. This is your first time seeing him up close. You clutch your binder to your chest again, except now you probably look like a silly school girl. 

“Hey! I bet you’re confused about why I know your name.” He laughs awkwardly and you nod like an idiot, hoping you’ll get the information you seek. 

“Well, I bet you know who Lindsay is.” Key’s voice is light as he begins his explanation, not knowing your world just tipped off its axis. He’s heard it.

“You listened to Mark My Words?”

The silence that lingers is excruciating as he looks at you blankly. Key gives you a confused look that is warped into a sinister, mocking expression by your mind. He laughs, and it feels like a knife in your gut. 

“To what?”

You stammer again, hoping to clarify and keep your sanity. He did listen to it, he just doesn’t remember the name. 

“Nah… Lindsay just told me you were a big fan. And I hear that you’re… a troublemaker. You made Mr. Myeong quit? He’s been here since I was a trainee.” 

His tone is indisputable. He’s looking down on you. He views you the same as all your coworkers view you.

The switch has been completed. Jeno seems to have gotten what was bothering him off his chest with the borderline therapy sessions, and you’re now silent. But he prods at you, waving his hand in front of your face and calling out to you like you’re blind or deaf. You don’t respond though. 

“Ooookay? Well I just learned a bombshell–”

“We’re going to that bitch’s house.” You snap, breaking your silence. After meeting Key, you checked your texts from Lindsay. She had given up at some point, but you notice she’s gotten less cheery. Her messages are short and curt. Then there’s a gap where she doesn’t text. Then you see it.

Lindsay fine

Lindsay this is ideal, thank GOD

Lindsay I won’t text you anymore, in fact, if you’re reading this you’re blocked. you are one of the most frustrating people I’ve had to deal with. you americans are so fucking lazy and such delicate snowflakes that you can’t handle any sort of conflict or minor critique. you’re gonna quit because your boss hurt your feewings ;((? grow the fuck up. you’re getting paid more than you ever would have without my help. without me, you would have been locked in the lower class, dying before you manage to crawl out like so many of you do. you can keep bitching and crying but just know we’re all laughing at you. ALL of us. but just know that if you try to fuck around you will learn the hard way to keep your fucking head down and work.

Hot tears gush from your eyes from sheer frustration and awe. You ball your fist tight until they start to ache. 

“We’re going to that bitches house and we’re going to fuck shit up.” You grit your teeth in an attempt to contain the unbridled anger about to overcome you. Your lip quivers.

“What? What are you saying? Are you okay?”

… delicate snowflakes…

… so many of you do…

… can’t handle…

… without me…

…ALL of us.

keep your 

fucking head down 

and 

work.

Your legs move on their own as you march over to your cabinet and swing it open. You swipe out its contents onto the counter and floor, a cacophony of glass crashing fills the room. Jeno shoots to his feet, the sound like a trigger. You grab more glasses and launch them at the wall with a shriek. Jeno hurriedly gathers your arms and you thrash to get away from him. He doesn’t know why he says it, he doesn’t know what to say. 

“Stop! What is your problem?!”

“If you’re just going to scold me like everyone else, get the fuck out!” The words deflate along with the anger as exhaustion overtakes it. What is your problem? 

“You did more! You shoved him to the ground, I…” Your head droops, your attempts to tear away from him dwindling in power as you pathetically flail. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” You say it to everyone. Why couldn’t they have found another failing, pathetic producer to torture. Why did Lindsay have to wring out every drop of fight you had in you.

 “Let me go!” You look up, revealing your face wrecked with tears. 

Jeno doesn’t know why this happens. He always thought he was broken. He was surrounded by so many beautiful people for so much of his life, but he never felt how his peers did. When said beautiful people would confess to him, he doesn’t know why he didn’t feel anything. When he caved and finally accepted one, he didn’t understand why everyone else was distraught by her cheating instead of him. He jokes that the wires got crossed somehow, and now he does stupid shit like this. The stupid shit that kept Lindsay in his bed for so long.

“Let me go!” You scream and he does. But only in favor of grabbing your face and mashing his lips to yours. It’s finally peaceful for a moment. Neither of you even react to a neighbor banging on your door. Your eyes flutter closed. You grab both his wrists, your lips moving on their own. You’re both sucking in large gusts of air through your nose as you intensify the kiss. Your legs stumble backward until your back hits the cabinet. The knob smacked against your back, a hollow ache spreading throughout. But you ignore it as his hands push up toward your hair. His palms cup your ears as his fingers tangle in the messy nest atop your head. Your head swims as the muffled sounds of panting and gasping fills the serene air. 

His tongue pushing past your lips earns him a salacious moan as you move your hands to his neck to pull him closer. You had every intention to get drunk when you got home, but this is so much better. The delicious head rush you feel as his lips meld against yours is heavenly. For a moment this feels like heaven. The sickly lights are more like a heavenly glow in the moment, his retrained moans are a chorus of angels.

When he shoves his knee between your legs you gasp and pull away. The sensation is so strong it scares you. You watch each other carefully with hooded eyes as you cautiously grind on his thigh. Your legs tingle so intensely you release a shuddering breath. You fist his shirt as you begin humping his legs feverishly, a bomb of pleasure exploding all over you. You throw your head back, unabashed moans spilling from your swollen lips. Your legs shake so violently, the only thing keeping you upright is his leg shoved into your cunt. Jeno leans forward and cages you in with his arms. His eyes are hungry as he watches your face intently. You roll your hips over his leg desperately. Jolts of pleasure shoot up your legs. The sensation is too strong but too perfect. You want this to never end. The urge to edge yourself and prolong the pleasure and to get to your climax already are waging war in your mind.

He shoves his leg further, watching you unravel as lust tints his puppy-like dark brown eyes black. The look on his face is so intense it sends shock waves through you. His black hair hangs forward, allowing you to see his thick brows knitted together in utter focus. The trembling hits a crescendo and you can barely keep your eyes on him or your head straight. You tug him forward by his shirt as your moans get more whiny. 

He leans forward with his lips coasting your ear and making your shiver. 

“Do it.” He says encouragingly, almost as if to challenge you. You gasp sharply and let go of his shirt. You almost fall back but grasp his face. You both look each other in the eyes as you come undone. Your vision whites out as you toss your head back, a guttural moan erupting from your chest. You unintentionally claw at the skin on his neck and jaw as the orgasm leaves your ears ringing. When you finally come to, your breathing is reduced to brief huffs. The pleasure is still burning hot as your hips jerk against his thigh. 

Minutes go by with you slack-jawed with your head against his chest. He moves his leg away finally and you whimper, still craving the friction. The two of you finally pull away and you feel the uncomfortable wetness against your core and upper thighs. You look first at the wet spot on your khakis, then the wet spot on his jeans where you had been humping him like a dog. Lastly, you see the angry red scratches on his face and neck. All you can do is gape, humiliated at how much you lost control. You look away and swallow, failing to placate your dry throat. 

“I’m sorry.”

You both say at the same time. One looks at the other in confusion, asking what they could be sorry for. You watch as a tiny bead of blood forms at one of the scratches. 

“I-I’ll get something for your neck.” You say before rushing toward the bathroom. Jeno grabs your arm and pulls you back to face him. The look on his face is gravely serious, and you feel a pit in your stomach. 

“Don’t ever let her get you like that.” He says weakly before looking away.

CHAPTER EIGHTˋ°•*⁀➷

“I see you still haven’t changed your vacation days.”

You swirl the punch in your cup as you watch the chaos unfold before you. The music is deafening, groups of guys are standing on Lindsay’s dining room table and shouting. There’s an orgy waiting to happen moving to a bedroom. Someone broke her glass coffee table and someone else managed to swing from the chandelier. 

Haewon is pacing, looking around in horror as she phones someone. You smile to yourself.

Yesterday, Ms. Lee was tapping her foot impatiently waiting to hear why your vacation days were still the same. 

“My mother is sick.” You lie, picking at your salad. 

“Oh yeah? Did she schedule her sickness for December 14th?”

“No but her surgery is scheduled for December 18th and no one will be there to help her recover. Would you like to speak on the phone with her and grill her on why her surgery date is so convenient?” You slam the lid over your food and openly challenge your superior. She grits her teeth. 

“If I find out you went on that goddamn trip you’ll have hell to pay.” She spins and stomps away. 

“You have a nice day as well! Thanks for wishing my mom well, too!”

She slams the door and you feel the bitterness fester.

It’s Saturday, the day you all agreed to go to Lindsay’s. Lindsay, who claimed to block you, texted you to remind you not to fuck around. It was too late. 

Your eyes follow Haewon as she spots something and marches toward it. The wall half obscures her laying into someone. Curious, you follow her until Jeno is unobscured, yelling back at Haewon. Haewon reaches toward him and you rush over to pull her away. 

“What the hell is going on?!” You scream, looking solely at her. 

“Of course you’re defending him! You two are ungrateful assholes!” She cries out, eyes welling with tears. 

“Ungrateful?” Jeno immediately clocks your body language after you say that and moves to holding you back. “Ungrateful how?”

“You wouldn’t even be here without her! You would still be broke and miserable!” She shouts, clenching her eyes shut. You slip from Jeno’s grasp for a split second and your hand thunders against Haewon’s cheek. Jeno pulls you back even further, screaming at you to cut it out. You shout obscenities at her that you’re not even sure she understands as Jeno hauls you, kicking and screaming, into a bedroom. He slams the door shut and immediately shushes your protests.

“What’re you doing? You’re gonna ruin it!” Jeno urges, restraining your flailing arms to your sides. You calm a little, realizing what he means. 

“Whatever. She’ll be alright.” You brush him off and he pinches his nose bridge. “It was just a little slap! She’ll shake it off.”

“I’m gonna go back out there, you stay here since you can’t be trusted.” He mutters, keeping his eye on you as he walks back out the door. You curse him and make faces as soon as he leaves. You sit on the bed, not entirely upset that you’ve been banned from leaving. The music was starting to give you a headache, and though it was your doing, the amount of people there was overwhelming. You lie back, relishing in the softness of the bed. Maybe you should steal the mattress or something. 

You quickly lean forward as the door opens, a shocked Jaemin in the doorway. 

“Oh, sorry. I’m looking for the bathroom but I’ve never been here before.” Jaemin remarks bitterly. You immediately stand up, sensing something is wrong. 

“No, it’s okay. I can show you to the bathroom.” You cup his shoulder, your delicate tone ruined by the volume you have to speak at with the door open. He shakes his head and closes the door. 

“No, I just wanted a moment to think.”

“I feel you, come sit down.” You guide him to the bed, noting the weary look in his eyes. “This was a bad idea to come here, wasn’t it.”

“No. I actually just got done talking to Heechul outside. He lifted the screenshot detection and I got the pics. So that’s one objective down.” Jaemin takes out your phone from his pocket, showing you what he got as evidence.

The “bombshell” that Jeno didn’t get the chance to tell you was that Heechul, the creator of SCR, was fucked over by Lindsay during that debacle. In an attempt to save face after being called a homewrecker all around the world and to make good with Jaemin, she lied. She spoke to the press dressed in black and crying saying that she was drunk that night and that she’s always been a big Super Junior fan. Told them she wasn’t thinking straight and just adored him as an idol so much. Insinuating that she was taken advantage of one or two ways that night. It wasn’t as big as the initial scandal, but it was enough to do damage to Heechul.

Jeno reached out to Heechul, assuming he wanted to either clear that blemish on his reputation or get back at her at the very least. It turns out neither party was drunk. He also doubles as another testimonial. The screenshots are damning, most of them from the Gossip Girls group chat. Her full name being assigned to each message wasn’t enough, but good thing she would constantly send pictures of herself you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Jeno comes back in, eyes wide. That means he also has something to show for. He shuts the door and locks it.

“Haewon already called Lindsay about what was happening and Lindsay barely cared. She was just annoyed with Haewon and told her to fix it somehow. She of course blamed it on me, but that didn’t help since she had the key. So I was able to convince her to lie to save face. It worked.” A smile spreads on Jeno’s face so wide, wider than you’ve ever seen him smile.

“Lindsay put in a police report. She’s flying back to Korea.”

You feel Jaemin stiffen beside you and you rub his back. Jeno rushes over and pulls Jaemin up off the bed and into a bear hug. He reaches for you and you hesitantly stand to join them. You give a bewildered look to Jeno as he pulls you in. 

“Be careful.” Jaemin says, voice strained by the strength of Jeno’s hold. “Whenever he feels a really strong emotion he–”

“Hey!” Jeno pulls away, almost looking betrayed as he gawks at Jaemin. Jaemin just smirks back mischievously.

“He might kiss and/or fuck you.” Jaemin rushes out and Jeno shoves him playfully. 

“I do n…” He trails off when he realizes he can’t lie. Not after he proved this to be true that night. Then you both lock eyes. He wants you not to connect the dots and you don’t want Jaemin to know. The silence, however, is too long. 

“What is going on? Why are you two looking at each other like that?”

But you can’t tear your eyes away from the lust slowly consuming his. He feels his groin start to ache and he wants to stop himself. It’s not too late! He can leave the room and prevent this from happening. Jaemin is the first one to move, though. 

“Ah. It’s happening. Just get it over with.” He places his hands on your backs and pushes you closer. He tells the two of you to kiss like he’s playing with dolls. “Go ahead. Kissy kissy.”

“W-what!” You squeak, peering over at Jaemin while moving as little as possible. You can smell Jeno from this distance. His cologne is utterly intoxicating. The moment you turn back, nearly brushing his nose with yours, Jeno closes the distance. Losing the fight. 

You moan in surprise, hips bucking into his. His slutty tongue licks into your mouth right away, muffling your pitiful moans. You feel a hand on your ass and you flinch slightly. How such a small touch feels so good, you’ll never understand. You felt like you were in heat while kissing them individually, but with Jeno’s lips commingling with yours and Jaemin’s ghosting behind your ear, you feel like a shaken up soda can. 

“We can finally finish what we started.” Jaemin whispers into your ear before pressing his lips against it, softly. Both their lips are cushiony soft as they glide over different parts of your body. Jeno grabs a handful of your breast and squeezes harshly. Your jaw drops open and he takes the opportunity to suck on your tongue. Jaemin finds your sweet spot and you tell him by reaching over to cup his waist with a gasp. You feel him smile against your skin before sucking against the spot.

You’re useless at this point, craning your head back as moans leap from your throat. Jeno’s lips move lower, trailing down your jaw to your neck to your chest. You thread your fingers through his hair, urging him lower. He pulls your hands away, a scolding gaze thrown your way. Jaemin tsks to your right. 

“Be a good girl, hm?” His hot breath fans against your cheek. “Be patient.” He whispers. His hand snakes up to your neck, giving it a light squeeze. Your eyes roll back and he squeezes harder with a chuckle. 

“You like that?”

“She likes that.” Jeno growls, watching you closely. His tongue lulls out of his mouth, running over your clothed nipple. You attempt to throw your head back but you can’t in Jaemin’s grip. Jeno flicks the hardened, sensitive bud, his eyes intense. Jaemin’s hand slips up further to cup your jaw, forcing you to face him. He makes quick work of kissing you sloppily. Licking your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it. Your lips roll over each other, wet tongues laving messily. Jaemin is much nastier and looser than Jeno, who feels more controlled. Even as his tongue creates a wet spot over both your nipples. Each time he nips at you, you moan into Jaemin’s mouth. Jaemin mirrors every moan, like he’s feeling just as much pleasure.

You squeeze your thighs together desperately, whimpering in need. Jeno hums against your nipple. He reaches down and cruelly spreads them apart. You squeeze Jeno’s shoulder in frustration. He rises, hand on your throat.

“Can’t be patient, huh?” His eyes are fierce as he squeezes until your brain feels fuzzy. “Open your fucking mouth.” 

Your mouth drops open, your tongue lolling forward with drool dripping from the tip. He leans in, spitting onto your tongue. Before you can react, Jaemin wraps his hand around Jeno’s. Your face feels hotter, you blink slowly. Jaemin dives forward and sucks the spit off your tongue. You let out a strangled moan, going to kiss back until he pulls away again and spits on your tongue. This time Jeno dives in, kissing you feverishly. When he pulls away, there are thick strings of saliva drooping between you two. They take turns spitting into your mouth and on your face, Jeno keeping his other hand on your thigh to keep you from any semblance of friction. Jeno finally releases you and you gasp for air, only for Jaemin to steal it. He tugs your head back by your hair and initiates the filthiest kiss of the night. 

Jeno watches your tongues fight as he unbuckles his jeans. He frees himself and strokes lazily, biting his lip when Jaemin tongue kisses your chin. He looks down at your now ruined shirt with your poor nipples poking through. You don’t even notice him approaching, not when Jaemin is squeezing your upper thigh. He squeezes again and again until he reaches your soaked mound under your skirt. You hum pleasantly at the sensation. The serenity is brief when Jeno slips his hand under your shirt and cups your breast. You inhale shakily, eyes wide open as you grip Jaemin’s forearm for dear life. The dream that has been the source of your pleasure every night is suddenly so vivid. You go still, legs locking up around Jaemin’s hand. It’s all too sudden, the speed at which it hits you. Your orgasm crashes over you and it’s debilitating. You lock your thighs around Jaemin’s hand. The sensation just started and it’s already about to end. 

“N-no!” You yelp, cut short by a downright despondent moan as you gush through your underwear. You don’t want it to end, you really don’t, but the waves of fire subside against your will. Left in its wake, your legs turn to jelly and you collapse to your knees. You clench your eyes shut, wanting to relive the dream being so vivid after so long. Jeno cupping your chin makes you open them. A long, stiff rod hangs over your face, sticking straight out with heat radiating from it. 

“Happy you got to cum early? Open up.” Jeno pushes your cheeks in with his fingers, forcing your mouth open. Jaemin grabs your hair to crane your head back while Jeno lines his cock up with your mouth. 

As soon as his smooth tip hits your tongue, Jaemin is shoving you forward with a “good girl.”

Jaemin bobs your head over Jeno's cock. If you had a gag reflex, you’d be in big trouble. Jaemin has your face shoved against Jeno’s firm torso, pressed flat and making it hard to breathe. You wouldn’t have it any other way. The moment you saw his cock, you knew it was all you wanted to taste and smell until your body gave out. Jeno’s slutty moans harmonize with Jaemin’s praise and it has arousal dripping down your thigh.

“Fuck you suck good cock.” Jaemin coos as he pulls you back so you can gasp for air.

“She was fucking made to suck cock.” Jeno adds, adding his own hand to your hair and pulling you back on. Long and thick. Your lips are stretched wide to compensate him. Jeno’s moans are poorly restrained, breaking free each time your tongue stretches lower and laves over his ball sack. Jaemin leans forward to capture his lips and swallow his moans.

His hands move from your hair to Jaemin’s, forcing him to his knees. Jaemin’s hand falls away from your hair and you take the break to breathe and observe the shifted dynamic. The occasional flash of lightning from the window mixes with the warm light seeping under the door. It illuminates his wide, glassy eyes. So wide, you’ve never seen him look like this. It’s his turn to be used like a fleshlight as Jeno’s fist tightens in his hair and shoves his forward. Poor Jaemin has a gag reflex, gagging and gargling around Jeno’s cock. Jeno ignores his struggles, relentless as he keeps his cock shoved deep down his throat. Jaemin never lets his big eyes leave Jeno. 

You can’t help but stroke his head and coo. He’s focused and damn is he hardworking. You’re impressed and proud, and suddenly you understand how he felt earlier. 

“Good boy.” You coo before kissing and licking at his jaw and ear. You’re hyper focused on him until Jeno takes you by the hair and shoves your head into his crotch. Your lips squish against his balls and your cheek is pressed into Jaemin who’s finally had enough. He breaks away, sputtering and coughing. Jeno leans over slightly to slap Jaemin across the face. He slaps and slaps until Jaemin’s slobber-ridden face is splotched with red. He takes you by the throat next, giving you the same treatment. 

“Who told either of you to stop?” Slap. “Hm?” He switches back to Jaemin. The sensation stings so good, you wish he’d spank you all over your body. You arch your body forward, craning your head higher to better receive it. Jeno laughs dryly. “You even like this?”

You nod emphatically and he laughs again, tickled and pleased. “Good, now get back.”

Jeno moves Jaemin back on to his cock, leaving room for you to lick and suck at the side of his shaft. You wrap your lips around the base of his shaft, moaning in delight each time Jaemin’s lips brush yours. The teamwork means Jaemin is no longer struggling around Jeno’s dick, just slurping and sucking. Jeno’s mouth hangs open, his husky groans plentiful. He can barely keep his eyes on both of you slobbering all over his dick. Your obedient eyes watch him and it makes it harder for him to look away. He desperately fists both of your now messy hair for dear life. His eyes flit to you and his stomach caves. Your blissed-out eyes are sparkling so innocently as you suck at his shaft. The sheer amount of joy in your eyes to taste his cock brings him close.

He shoves the two of you away and you both immediately scramble back to your knees. Jaemin waits patiently for the next instruction while you caress his muscular thighs, eyeing his cock intently.

“Get her clothes off.”

Within seconds, Jaemin is grabbing your shirt and peeling it off of you. You barely get your arms up in time before it’s pulled over your head. He goes for your skirt next, pulling it to your knees in short yanks. Your hands drop to the floor as he lifts your legs up to get it off. It feels so fast, your head is spinning, but it must not be fast enough. Jeno grabs you by the arm to pull you to your feet. He grabs the front of your panties and rips them off your hips. He tosses the tattered fabric before delivering his next instruction. 

“Bend her over the bed.”

Jaemin’s body presses firmly to your back as he urges you to the bed, folding over it with you. You can feel his bulge prodding at your bare ass as he grinds into you. His lips litter kisses all over your neck and shoulder before he makes his way down. The closer he gets to your core, the more your lower abdomen clenches with excitement and need. You’ve never been eaten out before. His nose prods against your anus, his breath hot against your lips. You squirm, trying to push closely, but you feel two pairs of hands hold your hips still. 

“Patience.” Jaemin warns, voice muffled against your mound. He inhales a hissing breath before parting his lips and laying his tongue flat against your mound. You flinch, adjusting to the peculiar sensation. His wet, hot tongue prods at your clit. Liquid pleasure pools in your lower abdomen the more he flicks and circles his tongue. Light moans float from your lips at the feeling. Wet and hot… you never thought it would feel like this, or that those two sensations could feel this good. You can’t help it, you wiggle against them. The urge to shove his face deeper is so great. 

His firm and slimy muscle slides up your slit, parting you open. He pushes it deeper, teasing your hole. Every movement causes a deep ache in your gut. A cloying need that is met when he gets more passionate. He begins slurping at your clit. 

“Oh~” You breathe, pleasantly surprised by how good it feels. He switches between slurping and flicking and the liquid pools more and more in your gut, feeling like molten lava. You hear soft moans from both of them behind you, especially when Jeno’s searing cock starts pressing against your ass. His hips roll slow, gently working his member against you. Jaemin hums questioningly against you, the vibrations go straight to your core.

“I-I don’t know what’s come over me man.”

Jaemin hums again, this time like he’s come to understand something. Jaemin rubs your stiff bud back and forth until your moans gain more body. By now your moans have transitioned to desperate sobs as you try and fail to reach back for him. You should’ve enjoyed it while it lasted, because you feel a sudden coldness as Jaemin is pulled away. You push up onto your forearms, attempting to look back and protest when you’re pushed back onto your stomach. Jeno stands behind you as he says something to Jaemin. You whimper and whine, hoping a tongue will go back to pleasuring you. 

You hear a zipper when Jeno prods his tip against you. You gasp, trying to keep still so he’ll fill you up faster. 

“Please, please, please…” You chant under your breath. 

“Sit up.” Jaemin commands as he positions himself next to you on the bed. You lean back, slowly positioning yourself onto your knees. Jaemin slips under you, placing his legs on either side of you. He opens his arms, raising his brows at you with a smile. You blink slowly, trying to piece together what’s about to happen. Your desperation cancels that out, and you just opt for leaning forward. From behind, Jeno grabs Jaemin’s cock– to which Jaemin groans– and positions it between your legs. It nestles perfectly into your slit, especially when Jaemin presses your legs together with his thighs. Your eyes flutter closed as you press your face into his chest. 

You feel a second cock slide between your slick upper thighs. You push up, whimpering in fear as you look back at Jeno. Jaemin shushes you and pets your hair. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. We’ll take it slow.”

“I-It’s been almost a year since I had sex last. I don’t know if I can take it.”

Jaemin reaches up and caresses your waist. He gives you a reassuring look and you sigh, attempting to relax.

“We’ll use a safe word.” Jeno snakes his hands over your shoulders, giving them an earnest squeeze. You relax further. “If we’re gonna… you know. Do this more often, I wanna make sure you’re completely comfortable.” 

His hands are firm and confident on your shoulders, but when you turn to look at him, he looks nervous. His eyes carefully inch up your face until they meet yours. You can see that he’s pushing away all the teasing and snarky comments to let you know he means it. Something potent swells in your heart and you can tell he feels the same when he grabs your face and kisses you with new intensity. 

You all settle on a safe word but it doesn’t matter what it is in the moment. Jaemin’s hands fist your ass, pushing you closer as his dick slides between your lips. Jeno’s cock slides right next to his, his knees now on the bed. His weight pushes you further into Jaemin and all you can think about is wanting to be cocooned in their heat and scent forever. You have one hand in Jaemin’s hair and the other reaching back to grip Jeno’s forearm. It escapes you that this can go further, that you could feel even better. With their cocks slick with your juices and slipping between your legs and against your clit, it’s all you care about. 

Jeno draws his hips back until his tip catches on your entrance. He sinks in slowly, the stretch creating a deep ache. Every ridge his cock brushes over as he spreads you open fuels the fire in your gut. It burns hotter and hotter until you're biting Jaemin’s shoulder to muffle your mewls. He settles there for a moment, grinding his hips in until you’ve adjusted. Then he pulls all the way out, leaving your cunt to slowly shrink and clench around nothing only for him to shove it back in. You let out a harsh yelp, your body propelling forward with each thrust. Jaemin holds you steady so you’re not inching up the bed. 

Jeno has one foot on the bed now, delivering punishing thrust after punishing thrust. You can tell they’re both getting worked up. Jaemin keeps praising you and Jeno. Variations of him telling you you take his cock so well and telling him how good he’s fucking you. Jeno’s even getting a little verbal. Little curses here and there, slapping your ass. 

“Take this fucking cock.” Jeno grunts. His skin slapping against yours is so loud you’re convinced the people outside can hear it through the music. Jaemin lifts you up and lets his cock slap against his stomach. He lowers you back down, your clit landing right on his shaft. Jeno’s thrusts jostle your body back and forth, rubbing your throbbing clit on Jaemin’s cock. Your jaw drops open as a strong sensation overtakes you. Salacious moans unleash from your throat against your will. 

“O-oh my– god!” You cry out, the fire in your stomach raging. You hear Jeno laugh behind you and Jaemin laugh against your shoulder. 

“So cute.” Jaemin says with fondness dripping from his voice. 

“Oh my god?” Jeno mocks, smacking your ass again. “Just like in porn.” Him and Jaemin laugh harder and you can’t bring yourself to sass them. Not with the raging inferno overtaking your body. You push up from Jaemin right into Jeno, arms shaking in the process. Your eyes roll back as you let the pleasure overtake you. It’s so strong it’s startling as it hits its peak. Fluid shoots out from your cunt as a keen moan is ripped from your body. You slam back into Jaemin, humping his cock as your orgasm subsides. 

“Goood girl.” Jaemin grabs his cock from under you to slap against your sensitive pussy. You jump from the sensitivity. “Get it nice and wet.”

“You first.” Jeno says. You can hear him stroking his cock soaked with your cum. Jaemin slips in easily to your pussy, all the way in so you can feel what you hadn’t noticed until now. Jaemin is thin, but he is long. Extremely long. A sharp gasp is drawn from you. 

“You okay? Do you need a minute?” Jaemin asks, full of worry. Probably well aware of what effect his cock has on people. A minute won’t fix the way his tip is prodding against your cervix. So you shake your head, opting to take it like the good girl he’s been counting on you to be. His thrusting is slow and deep, punctuated each time with a kiss from his tip to your cervix. It’s painful, but you don’t want it to stop. The more it happens, the more you crave the feeling. You cup his thigh and he grabs your face, lifting it so you face him. 

“Are you sure?”

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. 

“Fuck me harder.”

Jaemin’s hips buck involuntarily at that, sending your eyes to the back of your skull. He does just that, showing that there’s no shift in dynamic from being fucked by Jeno. If anything, Jaemin’s thrusts are more wild and aggressive. He lifts your ass slightly to fuck you more efficiently. Each pound deep into your cunt has you seeing stars. It hurts so good. The pain is addictive. 

“So much fucking dick.” Your voice is fragmented, each word cut short by a damning thrust. 

“Holy fuck.” Jeno growls, slapping your ass and adding to that delicious pain. You can’t stop the sounds from pouring out of you. “Stop, stop.” Jeno taps Jaemin’s leg. Jaemin pauses, lowering you back down. Though the thrusting has stopped, him being nestled so deep within you is still so overwhelming. However, you didn’t understand what overwhelming could mean until Jeno’s tip breaches your hole and joins Jaemin’s monster. 

The stretch is unfathomable, you almost think you can’t compensate. But you do, and Jeno is nestled deep within you as well. You muffle your sounds in the pit of Jaemin’s neck, lifting only to say ‘more’ to their check-ins. Only Jeno can pound into you with Jaemin pressed flat to the bed, but it’s more than enough. Jeno grips your ass with both his hands and he pounds into you with renewed vigor. Even Jaemin’s restricted thrusts still hit deep. Your senses are clouded with varied euphoria from all angles. 

You’re rendered speechless, noises coming to a halt with the debilitating assault to your cunt. Every time you try you’re reduced to syllables and squeaks. Jeno checks in one more time, asking if he should go slower or stop altogether. You finally find your voice. 

“Fuck me!” You shout.

Jeno replies with a harsh slap to your ass. You can hear his balls slapping against Jaemin’s cock as he delivers his fierce thrusts. He slaps your ass over and over, backhand and forehand until it’s hot and raw. Jaemin lifts you slightly by your throat. It’s clear on his face that he’s also being overtaken by pleasure. 

“You like it like that, huh?” He slaps you across the face. “You like it hard and rough?”

“I fucking love it.” You grit, earning you another slap. They both continue their slapping until your tongue is hanging out, drool dripping from it so you look like the dirty slut they’re making you out to be.

“Good fucking girl.” Jaemin grunts, running his nails up your back. 

“Best fucking girl.” Jeno corrects. An onslaught of slaps punctuate their praise.

Jeno’s thrusts don’t stop when you feel yourself gush with no warning. You throw your head back, moaning in shock as an orgasm overtakes you. 

“Did you cum? Hm? You came again?” Jeno snatches you by your hair and you clench around them as much as you can manage. 

“Oh… oh fuck!” Jaemin digs his nails into your sides as he bucks brutally into you, giving your cervix one final beating as his cum spurts into you. 

You’re completely limp atop Jaemin as Jeno chases his own high. Stuttering thrusts signal his eventual orgasm, filling you to the brim with each of their cum. 

The next time your eyes blink open, your core is being wiped clean. After that, it’s Jeno carrying you and sitting you on the toilet after you mutter about having to pee. You’re awake by then, showering as you stare blankly at the wall. An impish smile slowly spreads on your face. You turn your face up, letting the water from Lindsay’s infinity shower pour over you. 

Jeno and Jaemin are dressed and outside the room by the time you’re finished. When you go out into the hall, no one is left at the party except the core players in your plan. They're bloody and bruised, smiling like idiots. 

“Okay, so what do we do next?”

“Take pictures of your injuries. I’ll text Haewon and make sure she has her story straight. Make sure you have yours straight too. Haewon invited you because you trained together when someone broke into the very calm! Party.” Jeno explains slowly.

“Right! And then we tell them that they fucked us up and were yelling about some gambling thing?”

“Right.” Jeno confirms, nodding his head and crossing his arms. Their eyes moving to you makes both Jeno and Jaemin look back at you. They sport the same wolfish smile as you move closer. Once stood next to him, Jaemin immediately goes to grab your ass, checking under your skirt to confirm that yes, you couldn’t be wearing panties right now. You swat him away, not wanting to get dirty all over again. 

EPILOGUEˋ°•*⁀➷

The backlash was swift. First everyone was sympathetic in reaction to the news of the break in, then more of the details came to light. Lindsay being a celebrity all over East and Southeast Asia bit her in the ass. Everyone was talking about the break in and the gambling. All eyes were on her and all keyboards were typing her name into search engines. It was the perfect time to drop the second bomb.

“Ten accusers, six being anonymous, come out against the heiress. They state that she had scammed them, caused them mental or emotional harm and even made bets on their success..”

You shake your head at the TV, tsking to yourself and NingNing who was on speaker phone. 

“Omg, look!” NingNing shouts. Footage of Lindsay Liu being detained appears on screen. She is thrashing and screaming at the police and the reporters.

“Oh here it comes.” You wince, recoiling from the screen. Lindsay rattles off some less than savory words, revealing her true self to the world for the first time. She curses everyone, naming specific ethnicities and nationalities while doing so. Mostly the ones belonging to her core fanbase. If the allegations and prison time don’t end her, this certainly will. 

“Liu has been arrested on several accounts of tax fraud and general fraud. She could earn up to fifteen years in prison. Liu’s father, Liu Jian, publicly renounced his daughter. Saying that he doesn’t agree with his daughter’s actions, and that he’s appalled by her behavior. Liu Jian retired early this winter, passing Orchid Oasis on to the former COO.”

The newscaster switches to a new story and you shut the TV off.

“Well… after seeing that, any pity for her is completely gone.” NingNing announces. The two of you eagerly discuss what just transpired. You still feel a bit unsettled, as if Lindsay’s shadow hasn’t stopped looming over you yet. Will everything be better after this? Would people find out what you all planned?

You pick at your cuticles, checking your group chat with only Jeno and Jaemin and wondering why they haven’t texted you yet. Is Jaemin okay? An hour would pass before you got your answer. You hear the beeps of someone entering a code into your door and snap your head toward it. 

“I’llCallYouBackBye.” You rush out before hanging up on NingNing. You shoot up from your bed, standing before the door. The minute Jeno’s face peeks through the door, he throws it open and rushes toward you. You giggle with anticipation as he grabs your face and mashes his lips to yours. You both collapse onto the bed. Only then does it hit you that you guys did it.

As for Jaemin, her rant as she was detained immediately turned him off to her. He was honest, stating it hurt a bit that everyone was right about her but it was telegraphed pretty explicitly. Heechul shut down Gossip Girls and even considered taking the whole app down, claiming that he feels like Lindsay tainted it. And in a way, she did. People keep rallying for her release, mostly people with a financial incentive. Then Heechul just realized he could boot them from the app. More people came out against Lindsay, something none of you had any part of. 

You feel somewhat vindicated, like you weren’t as sensitive as you thought in regards to Lindsay.

🥀 𐮙 🐻ˋ°•*⁀➷

You’ve never experienced that new car smell, especially not while being served expensive wine. This trip to Switzerland in the Global 7500 was sponsored mostly by the members in the group from Stray Kids and NCT. Reddish brown lacquered wood accented the beige walls of the private jet. You settle into one of the cream-white seats between Jaemin and Jeno, across from NingNing and her members. You didn’t mind the thirteen hour flight with these seats and great alcohol and food. And Jaemin’s hand on your thigh.

It’s Jeno, though, that carts you off to the surprisingly spacious bathroom. It looks more luxurious than any bathroom from places you’ve lived. The sloppiness of the kiss alerts you to how strongly he’s feeling right now. You’ll admit that the luxurious nature of this plane has you all hot and bothered as well. You try to be as quiet as you can while sitting on the counter with Jeno pounding into you. 

You all pull on your coats, hats, and gloves as the jet lands, extremely groggy. Most of you head right to bed as soon as you get into the high-end ski chalet. You do the same, mostly excited to see how soft the beds are. You plop backward onto the bed, pleasantly surprised. It might even be better than Lindsay’s. Before you could even think of getting undressed and ready to sleep, Jaemin is grabbing your legs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. You want to protest, but sex before sleeping in this bed sounds like a dream.

Even more of a dream is both Jeno and Jaemin lapping at your slit while peering up at you. You clench their hair, watching in awe as they get utterly pussy drunk. Licking each other’s cheeks and chins by accident here and there. You’re disappointed by how quickly you cum, wanting to prolong this moment forever. 

However, you hate to admit that snuggling up with them under the warm covers is slightly better. Only slightly. After discussing, the three of you decided not to put a label on whatever this was. Especially since talking to Jeno and realizing a lot of what he feels makes too much sense. It isn’t romance, it’s secure co-existence. 

Members of the now defunct Gossip Girls message you after some pictures of you, Jeno, and Jaemin drunkenly kissing during the trip are posted to SCR. You usually send a shrug emoji, but you briefly entertain the thought of your own guide. You don’t think what you wore or how you acted really mattered. Just that you had a common enemy.

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧

◉ proofread cycle 1 ⃝ proofread cycle 2

[withwritersblock]

No Caller ID

~No Caller ID by Megan Moroney~

Author's Note: requested! this is definitely my favorite song by her I think. italics are flashbacks Summary: Y/N and Jack broke up several months ago but he keeps crawling back and her friends are sick of it. Warnings: nothing too crazy Word Count: 1,405 Jack Hughes x fm!reader Part two

It has been six months since they broke up. It wasn’t entirely mutual but neither argued the idea of ending the relationship after she brought it up. Y/N needed space, being with a professional athlete was exhausting enough. But being with Jack Hughes was a whole different level.

But after the relationship ended she realized that it wasn’t a good one. Most of the relationship, he gave her reasons to be insecure. He was constantly going out after winning games, being suspiciously close to other girls. But she was convinced she was overreacting. 

Her friends said he was her kryptonite, she always had a soft spot for him, especially after they were together for nearly two years. 

It was also exhausting because every few weeks he’d give her a call. Even after the several times her friends forced her to block him. The same night, she would always unblock his number and wait for his call. 

She wanted to see him, but she knew she shouldn’t. Her friends were constantly lecturing her and right now was no different. 

While hanging out at her apartment, she received a call from him and her friends saw it.

“He hurt you, more than once and you’re still letting him!” her friend Georgia said. Her four other friends all nod and hum in unison. Y/N rolled her eyes as she reached for her phone. “He’s awful for you, you need to delete his number,” she further expressed. 

It was past three a.m. and she was awake because Jack called her thirty minutes ago. He begged to come over to see her. She sighed as her phone flashed on to show a text from him. It read that he was standing outside of her apartment.

She took a hold of her hoodie and covered her frame, she stepped into the hall, the woodened floor was icey against her feet as she delicately stepped past her roommates room. 

He wasn’t supposed to be coming over, he was still supposed to be blocked. She walked towards the front door. Unlocking the door, she pulled it open to see Jack standing outside of the door. He had a wide grin on his lips as his gaze scanned her frame. 

He stepped inside, delicately shutting the door behind him. 

“I missed you,” he whispered as he reached towards her, wrapping his arms around her. Wrapping her arms around the center of his back, she sunk into the hug; taking in the smell of his cologne. His hand ran along her hair as he shut his eyes.

“Come on, before my roommate hears us,” she whispered as she slipped from his grasp. Crossing her arms over her chest, she started walking away from him, knowing he would follow without a hesitation. 

Stepping into her room, she delicately shut the door behind Jack. He stood in front of her, smiling. “You look so pretty,” he whispered, he shook his head. 

She couldn’t tell if he was drunk. Assuming since it was past three in the morning he was, but usually he was touchy. But he wasn’t. 

“Just come on,” she mumbled as she took a hold of his arm and guided him towards her bed. She sat down, looking up towards him. Holding out his hands, she gladly took them. 

“We should stop sneaking around,” he brought up. She furrowed her eyebrows harshly as she looked into his eyes. 

“Like get back together?” she asked while shaking her head slightly. He raised his hand up and rested it onto her cheek.

“Don’t you want that?” he asked. 

“I broke up with you,” she mumbled as she scooted back away from him. She leaned her head back against the headboard as she watched him sit down. 

“But you let me in,” he muttered as he reached his hand over and rested it beside her thigh. He leaned towards her, keeping a small distance.

“That doesn’t mean I want to get back together,” she said as she tilted her head to the side. His eyes scanned her features, lowering his gaze towards her lips. 

“Then why’d you let me in?” he asked as he leaned towards her. There was no sign that he was drunk. She wished he was drunk, it would be easier to say no. He leaned towards her. She didn’t move as she stared towards his lips, craving his lips on hers. 

“I don’t know,”  she let out barely above a whisper.

He was like a drug, every time she was around him she found herself intoxicated. She couldn’t breathe, she was so captivated by him.

“Can I kiss you?” he let out barely above a whispered. She nodded softly as her eyes were flickering all over his features. 

Leaning towards her, he delicately kissed her. Her entire body softened once his lips were on hers. He reached one of his hands up and delicately took a hold of her cheek. His lips were soft and comforting. She hummed against his lips as he slowly started to climb on top of her.

“I’ll block him, I promise. I swear that last night was the last time. I swear,” she expressed urgently, reaching towards her phone like a child reaching for candy. Georgia held the phone away from her.

“He was here last night?” Georgia asked, somewhat harshly. Y/N took in a sharp breath, trying to find something to defend herself with but nothing came to mind. “Y/N, girl, come on,”

“He wants to get back together,” she muttered as she avoided the gaze of every one of her friends in the room. They all let out a long dramatic groan. “I didn’t say I wanted to!” she defended. 

“What did you two do last night?” Bethany questioned as she stood up from the couch. Her eyes widened as she looked towards her suspiciously. 

“We just kissed, I promise,” she muttered as she shook her head.

“Kissed like a peck on the lips or did you two make out?” Georgia questioned as she delicately rested Y/N’s phone on the countertop.

“What’s the diff-difference?” she asked as she shyly crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh my god,” every girl in the room let out at the same time. 

“You ended things because of how he treated you, remember?” Georgia let out.

He pulled his lips away from hers as he watched her slowly open her eyes. She reached her hand up and delicately took a hold of his cheek. He leaned into her hand, shutting his eyes. 

He leaned down, pressing his lips against her forehead for a second before he pulled back away from her, looking down towards her. 

“I’ve missed being this close to you,” he whispered as he brushed a piece of hair away from her face. She pressed her lips together while looking deeply into his eye. 

“I’ve missed it too,” she mumbled as she ran her thumb across his bottom lip.

“Enough to want to get back together?” he asked as he scanned her features. 

She took a deep breath, “You weren’t a good boyfriend, Jack,” she let out barely above a whisper. He tilted his head back. 

“I was a dick, I know that. Can we start over?” he mumbled as he pressed his lips against her lips for a second. 

“Jack,” she let out as she ran her fingers through his hair, “You shouldn’t even be here.”

He chuckled as he rolled away from her, he laid on his back. Holding out his arms, she stared towards him. His lips fell into a pout as she didn’t lay with him right away. “Lay with me baby,” he let out barely above a whisper. 

Hesitantly, she laid down resting her head in the crook of his neck. His hand glided up and down her body, slipping beneath her hoodie to feel her skin.

“This is starting to sound like an intervention,” Y/N let out jokingly. Her friends didn’t find it funny as she sat down beside Bethany. “He’s out of my system, I promise. Next time he calls, I’ll send it to voicemail and every time after that. I swear,” 

Bethany pulled her towards her. Y/N rested her head onto her shoulder. “Why do you keep going back to him?” Bethany asked as she ran her hand up and down her arm. 

“Because sometimes he actually makes me feel good,” she muttered.

[marauder-misprint]

Gryffindor Wins

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

3.5k words

cw: fluff, drinking, smoking

Your ability to pay attention significantly decreases in three classes during the week. Charms, Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sirius’ presence in a room is more distracting than it ever had been. Apparently, when you are trying to figure out how you feel about someone, they take up more space in your brain. It wasn’t like he was doing anything different than before, besides an occasional glance your way followed by a grin when he found you already looking at him. 

Pandora leans her head on your shoulder during Charms and instinctively, you rest your head on top of hers.

“You’ve been looking at him every five minutes all lesson,” she whispers.

“I know.”

“Why?”

You hum, looking over at Sirius again. He’s whispering to Peter. Peter nods along with a slight frown on his face. You’re curious at what they could be discussing in the middle of Professor Flitwick’s lecture.

“Just thinking, I suppose,” you respond to Pandora. 

“About… him?” 

You are about to answer when Flitwick calls, “Ladies! Please pay attention!”

You and Pandora sit up straight with muttered apologies. You give Sirius another quick glance. He’s also now sitting up straighter, no longer talking with Peter whose face is crimson. You and Pandora got a warning. Anyone else not paying attention would likely lose house points. ‘I should not have to tell you students to pay attention in your lessons,’ Flitwick had said in the past. 

So, Pandora’s question didn’t get answered, but judging by the way your eyes still drifted over to Sirius five more times before Flitwick dismissed the class, you were. You kept thinking back to what he said and what Remus said in the library earlier in the week. Sirius was giddy at the chance of a second date. For a boy known for getting around with the ladies, you wouldn’t expect him to be giddy at the mere potential of a second date. 

When Saturday arrives, you have no intention of getting out of bed before noon. Sure, you had told Sirius to talk to you after the quidditch match, but you never said you’d go to it. It is an 11 a.m. match in December. Your warm, cozy bed in the quiet of your dorm is much more inviting. To you, the choice is clear. You’ll stay in bed until noon, get lunch before everyone comes back from quidditch and if Sirius remembers, he’ll look for you in the library, where you plan to be reading. 

Your plans are thwarted by Dorcas as she throws open your curtains at 10 a.m. 

“Why are you still in your pajamas?” she asks, already dressed with her winter robe draped over her arm. “Do you not want breakfast before heading to the pitch?”

“‘M not going?” you grumble into your pillow.

“Bullshit. You always go. Up and at ‘em! Dress warm! If you’re not in the common room in ten, I will dress you myself!” 

Then she swiftly leaves the dorm, the door banging shut behind her. You lay still for a moment before groaning loudly. And then with every move, you groan again. Throwing the blankets off yourself and getting hit with cold air? Groan. Swinging your legs over the edge of your bed? Groan. Stretching and standing up? Groan and groan. Once dressed and out of the dorm, you groan louder and louder with each step down the stairs into the common room. Dorcas looks ever so pleased with herself when you arrive exactly ten minutes after she left you.

“Shame you didn’t want me to dress you,” she says with a sigh. “Marls gave me extra Gryffindor gear and I know a certain lion would’ve appreciated seeing you rep his house.”

You roll your eyes before looking at Dorcas’ outfit. Entirely Slytherin gear.

“She gave you Gryffindor clothes, yet you’re not wearing them?”

“Never do,” she says, smiling as you walk out of the common room together. “I won’t be seen in Gryffindor scarlet and gold.”

After a quick breakfast, you walk with the rest of the Slytherins to the quidditch pitch. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs are being far more energetic than everyone else, as the houses in the match usually are. Your whole group is bundled up to fight against the frigid December air and once you’re up in the stands, you’re fairly certain that you’re not nearly wearing enough. 

Maybe I should’ve doubled up, Gryffindor underneath my Slytherin stuff… 

The thought leaves your head as quickly as it appeared. You knew your face flushed at the thought but no one notices. It’s far too cold. 

“Why am I here? My bed was warm,” you tell Dorcas.

“Because we theoretically like watching quidditch,” she responds with a smile.

“Theoretically.”

Despite the cold, the match is entertaining. Dorcas was right: you do like watching quidditch, even if you personally are rubbish at it. Yet, even with all of the excitement in the air, your eyes keep lingering on the Gryffindor stands. It’s like a magnet, the way it pulls your gaze, and you hate that you know exactly why you keep looking. 

Sirius is standing in the front of the stands with Remus and Peter. The trio is cheering on their fourth member as he passes the quaffle to his teammates, only to have it thrown back to him so he can chuck it through the goals. James was single-handedly leading the Gryffindors to victory; they got so far ahead that they would’ve won even if their seeker didn’t catch the snitch.

The Gryffindor stands erupt in cheers as the Hufflepuffs counter with groans. It seems like within seconds, the entirety of Gryffindor house has left the stands and floods the pitch to greet their players. The Slytherin stands empty much slower. No one is in much of a hurry to face the herd of Gryffindors, despite it still being cold. Eventually, you reach the ground and are able to weave through the slower walkers since you are on a mission to get into the warm castle. As you pass the Gryffindors, you can’t miss Sirius clapping James on the back. Remus and Peter are talking with other Gryffindors.

It’s not until you get inside that you realize you’ve lost your entire group. You figure Dorcas went to congratulate Marlene on the win, but the boys and Pandora are nowhere to be seen. You walk slower. Maybe you just walked too fast in your determination to be able to feel your fingers again. 

Students pass by you. No one pays you attention. You wonder where your friends could have gone off to. Surely you weren’t walking that fast.

Then the face you had been watching for most of the match appears at the end of the corridor. You can’t help the small smile that appears as he makes his way towards you. 

“Congrats on the win,” you say before he pulls you into a hug and spins you around in the middle of the corridor. 

You look baffled when he sets you down. You hadn’t been expecting that from him.

“I didn’t do nothing, but thank you, love!” He’s too cheery to notice your expression. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “We’re celebrating in the common room. I know, I know, parties aren’t really your thing, but I’d love it, adore it, be thrilled, ecstatic, ten thousand and one percent delight if you came.”

You narrow your eyes at him ever so slightly before you consciously soften your expression and tilt your head. 

“Who said parties aren’t my thing?”

His eyes go wide. “Oh, um, dunno? Just heard it somewhere and it makes sense. You always seem to be leaving them.”

“You have to show up to parties to leave them.”

“So, will you come tonight?” He looks so hopeful.

You pause and tap your chin as if you’re putting deep thought into it. Honestly, you are thinking more deeply on who had told him you didn’t like parties, and wondering why that bugged you. 

“Will Dorcas be there?”

He barks a laugh. “Marlene’s on the team, darling. She’ll be there, but if you were hoping to come with her, I’m ‘fraid you might too late for that.”

“She’s already there, isn’t she…”

“Yup.” 

“Then what’s the password? I’ll show up.”

His face lit up, somehow appearing happier than he had looked moments earlier when he spun you around. 

---

The party is in full swing by the time you get there. No one seems to notice the portrait open and close, or if they do, they don’t care. The party is livelier than the previous ones you’ve attended. You found the drink table quickly, glad to have something to hold while you look for people you actually know. You’re not exactly thrilled when the first one you see is Remus. He doesn’t smile when he sees you, but he approaches you all the same. 

“You actually came,” he says coolly. 

“I was personally invited,” you reply just as coolly. 

You knew Remus was looking out for his friend, but you didn’t think that gave him the right to try to push you away from Sirius. Especially when it had been Remus who said you should get to know Sirius. 

Remus doesn’t respond. He turns away from you and disappears into the crowd of students. You frown. You hadn’t minded him too much until now. He was one of the more quieter Gryffindors, yet still quick with a sharp comment or witty remark. And he decided that you weren’t to be trusted because… you were hesitant to go out with Sirius?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by your name being yelled above the noise of overlapping music and conversations. You look for the source, who is upon you before you could form any kind of reaction.

“I’m so, so, so, so, so, so, so glad you came,” he slurs into your ear, having pulled you into a hug. Sirius appeared to have been celebrating the win for a while. 

You give him a smile when he lets you go.

“You invited me, and despite the rumors, I do like a party.”

“Come on, my friends are over here.”

He grabs your hand and leads you to the other side of the room. Lily, Mary, Peter, James and Remus are having a loud conversation when they come into view. You sigh a breath of relief when you see there’s an open spot next to Lily, which you take. As expected, Sirius sits next to you. You don’t mind that no one really acknowledged your arrival. It means that there are also no comments about how close Sirius was sitting to you. If he had sat down first, you wouldn’t be sitting as close. 

James is retelling portions of the game as if everyone there hadn’t witnessed it first hand only hours ago. You assume that they are all humoring him for the sake of his embellishments and the drinks in their hands. At some point, Marlene and Dorcas appear and stand in the middle of the group. 

“I think it’s truth or dare time!” Marlene announces, holding onto Dorcas for balance.

The group murmurs agreement. 

“Wait, I need a refill!” you say, standing up. “Anyone else need one?”

“If you’re offering!” Peter says, leaning forward to hand you his cup. 

A few more cups get handed to you before Lily offers to help you carry them. While refilling everyone’s cups, you also grab a bottle of firewhiskey from the table.

“So we don’t have to get up again,” you tell Lily and she laughs. 

The group had shifted slightly while you were momentarily gone so that they are sitting in a circle on the ground, taking up more space than before. You and Lily hand out the drinks before taking the spots reserved for you between James and Sirius. It’s decided that the bottle of firewhiskey that you grabbed will be the spinner. Marlene spins it first, declaring that since she suggested the game, it’s only right. It lands on Peter. He picks truth.

“Boo!” Sirius yells at his friend. “Lame way to start!” 

“Have you ever broken a law?” Marlene asks.

“Yes,” Peter answers quickly.

The way he’s staring at Marlene tells everyone that he’s telling the truth. 

“Wait, what?” Lily gasps. “What did you do?”

Peter shakes his head, laughing. “That wasn’t my question.”

You swear the girls are freaking out about it more than the boys. The four of them are just laughing and trying not to choke on their drinks when they think they’ve composed themselves enough to take a sip. Peter spins the bottle and it lands on Mary. You lose track of how many times the Gryffindors have spun the bottle. It doesn’t land on you for a while. Instead, you get to enjoy the secrets and stupid actions of Sirius and his friends. You finish your second drink and open the firewhiskey to fill your cup. 

“Our spinner!” Marlene whines.

“I’m giving it back,” you say sweetly, placing it back in the middle once the top was secured again. 

“Humph.” 

Marlene spins the bottle and it lands on you.

“How fitting!” Dorcas laughs.

“Truth,” you say. You weren’t sure you were up for the kind of dares they were handing out. 

“Who was your first Hogwarts-crush?” Marlene giggles. 

Immediately, you start laughing. In retrospect, it is funny. At least, to you it is.

“Well?” Lily asks, nudging you.

You take a second to compose yourself so you can wheeze out, “Evan Rosier.”

“Isn’t he-” Mary starts.

“Dating Junior?” you finish for her, your laughter taking over yourself again. “Yes, yes he is.”

After a minute, you spin the bottle and it lands on Lily. 

“Hmm… Truth.”

“What’s the longest you’ve gone without showering?”

“I think a week? My family went camping so it wasn’t an option,” she says and goes to spin the bottle.

The game goes on. James hugs a second year and tells him that he’s going to do great things. Dorcas reveals what she thinks her biggest red flag is. Peter finishes his drink and then throws his cup across the room. Dorcas, having gotten spun again, licks the bottom of Marlene’s foot and proceeds to gag. Lily, James, Remus, Mary, Marlene, James yet again and then Sirius. 

“Truth.” 

“Merlin, y’all are picking so many truths!” Mary complains.

“Please, it’s James. I don’t need to be stripping down to my boxers right now,” Sirius defends his choice. 

“But you could be,” James says with a wink.

“No. Truth me, mate!”

“What would you rate your kissing style?”

Sirius cocks his head. “Like on a scale of 1-10? 10, obviously.”

You roll your eyes. Then you turn to where you think the music is coming from. It’s your favorite song. You slam the rest of your drink before jumping up. You hold your hand out to Sirius.

“Love this song. Let’s dance!”

He grins at you as he takes your hand, letting you pull him into the crowd of people dancing. It doesn’t take long before you decide you’re far enough away from the group. You’re chest-to-chest with Sirius as bodies seem to be pushing on you from all sides. Sirius, having sobered up slightly, is timid in his dancing for a moment. He takes in the grin on your face, how bright your eyes are and the way you’re singing along to the song at the top of your lungs without a care in the world. When the song changes, he finds the confidence to put his hands on your waist and you move closer to him. His breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t mind you this close, but it still throws him off for a moment. 

After a few more songs, you put an arm around Sirius’ neck to pull his face down closer to yours. He stops breathing for a moment. Is this it? Were you going to kiss him?

“I need air!” you say into his ear to ensure that he hears you. 

“Oh, okay,” he replies quickly, hoping you don’t see the flash of disappointment on his face. 

He follows you out of the common room. You pass Remus and smile at him. You can’t help but notice he looks out of place standing at the edge of the common room, no longer taking part in any of the festivities. But right now, you don’t care about him. You had alcohol flowing in your veins, a pretty boy following you and the high of a good party. Remus reaches out to stop Sirius once you pass him.

“Padfoot,” Remus warns in a low voice.

“Moony,” he replies, his voice just as low. “I’m going with her.”

“You look like a lovesick puppy.”

Sirius pulls his arm out of his friend’s grip. “And so what if I am?”

Remus shakes his head with a sigh. “Make sure it’s reciprocated before you get hurt.”

Sirius rolls his eyes before heading out of the portrait. You’re waiting for him, leaning against the stone wall with your eyes shut. The quiet and coldness outside of the common room is refreshing. You open your eyes when you hear the portrait close.

“Got those cigarettes?” you ask with a sly smile.

“Always.” He pats his pants’ pocket.

“Good.” 

Your smile grows as you grab his arm to stabilize yourself. Your smile directed at Sirius plus the way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine. This is something he could get used to. If he could get you to do it without being drunk, that is. 

He lets you lead the way to the Astronomy Tower, not that he would’ve chosen anywhere else to go. Sirius has to support your weight more when you reach the metal stairs near the top. Why did alcohol make students seek out the tallest tower in all of the castle? He supposes it has the best aura to it, especially when drunk. 

You take your place at the railing, holding your hand out for one of the cigarettes. 

“I thought you didn’t smoke, or drink,” he teases, handing you one and lighting it for you once it’s in your mouth.

“Oh, I don’t,” you say with a smirk. 

You stand in silence for a while, each with your own cigarette this time. There’s no taking turns, no brief touches of fingers, no risk of accidentally dropping it in the hand off. 

Then Sirius points to the sky.

“There’s the Leo constellation, so Regulus is… right… there…”

You hum and he traces his hand across the sky.

“And there I am, in Canis Major.”

You giggle. “You’re right here.” You poke his shoulder. “In the Astronomy Tower.” He looks down at you and you poke his nose. “With me.”

He pokes your nose. “I think you had too much.”

You hum again. “Maybe so. But you’ll get me back to the dungeons alright.” You said it so confidently. 

You rest your head on Sirius’ shoulder as you stare up at the stars. You had taken Astronomy with Sirius for five years; had you been sober, you might’ve scolded him for thinking you didn’t know your constellations and the stars that were his and his brother’s namesakes. But you weren’t sober so the nice moment between you got to exist untainted. 

“Yes ma’am,” Sirius says in response to your assertion that he’ll escort you to your common room. 

Which he does. When you’re ready to go, you take his hand and interlock your fingers. Something blooms in your chest as you do so, but you don’t think anything of it. Sirius has to remind himself several times that you aren’t sober. If you were, he might’ve stopped to kiss you right then and there. Instead, he makes sure you get back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Having sobered up a bit in the evening air, you’re less reliant on him for balance but you hold his hand the entire way down. You mumble the password and the door to the Slytherin Common Room appears. You open the door, take a step and turn back to Sirius as you stand in its threshold. You have a dumb smile on your face. 

“You are pretty, Sirius. Handsome, dashing, attractive. And a good time.” You pause, laughing to yourself briefly. “Maybe I should write to you over break.”

You hum and disappear into the common room, leaving Sirius dumbstruck in the corridor as the door vanishes. He knows he should move quickly. He needs to get back to Gryffindor Tower unless he wants to get caught out of bed after hours while smelling like alcohol. But he can’t bring himself to move. He stares at the empty wall where the door had been. He makes a mental note to take you on another real date before everyone leaves for break in a little over a week. A real date where you were sober and could maybe admit that you were a Sirius person.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468, @bmyva1entine, @ravisinghs-wife

Love me some late night chats on the Astronomy Tower

[castiwls]

my number one .ᐟ

Paring; art x reader

Synopsis; You'd always been your own worst enemy. Your anxiety liked to jump out at the worst times yet your ever-doting boyfriend was determined to be there every. single. time.

Even if that meant missing his match.

Requested; anon

Notes; tysm for the request <3 i kinda based this on my own anxiety and the methods I've been taught over the years

Masterlist

“I don’t wanna be annoying.”

“You're not being annoying.”

No matter how many times he says it, you never believe it. How could you not be annoying, especially when you’ve woken him up at 3 a.m. for what must be the third time this week?

Art sighed, pulling you closer to his chest. His hands rubbed over your back in soothing circles as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Just follow my breathing, okay?” It was a saying so common that it seemed to fall from his lips without a thought. It was almost like a lifeline of sorts knowing that no matter what you’d always have the steady beat of his heart only a phone call away whenever your own decided to forget how to beat on time and needed reminding.

It was equally a blessing and a curse. A blessing to have someone like Art who would drop everything to come at your beacon call but a curse that you needed him in that way. 

Even now when he should be preparing for another tournament - against which school you can’t remember but then again your only thought right now is being able to focus enough to breathe - he’s here with you tucked around a corner from your class as you try to calm your breathing.

The moment he’d gotten your text.

Please come

Need you

He’d left the court without a second thought and made it to the building in record time. “You’re okay.” He soothed running a thumb over your cheek as he held your gaze. “You’re okay just breathe. In and out.” 

He hated seeing you like this. No matter how many times it happened he’d never shake that feeling of nausea that would swim in his stomach whenever your breath seemed to catch and your eyes grew distant. It made him want to just wrap you in his arms and protect you from anything and everything that left you feeling even slightly anxious.

You were his entire world and it hurt him to know you were your own worst enemy. 

“C’mon.” His hand intertwined with yours as he grabbed your bag. You both walked quietly back to his dorm your heart rate slowly going back to normal as you both walked. 

“Don’t you have practice?” You frowned as he placed your bag on his bed turning to watch as you shut the door. “It’s fine.” He smiled trying to reassure you as he opened his arms. “I can practice later you’re more important right now okay.” He sighed pulling you against his chest.

The practice could wait right now all he cared about was you. 

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

Not now, please god not now.

Art had already been so busy the last few days that you’d purposefully tried to leave him alone. He needed to train and you didn’t want to get in the way and worry him more then he already was. 

He’d only left his dorm an hour ago to get ready for the match and you’d been fine. Better then fine actually you’d had a great morning and for a moment you’d thought that maybe you’d go three full days without your anxiety rearing its ugly head.

And then it proved you wrong.

“Art I’m fine.” You could hear his concern down the phone as you sat on his bed, mentally counting your breaths to try and keep some semblance of calm. “You sure? I can come back for a-”

“No. No stay there and just relax okay? I’ll come find you before it starts.” You could almost picture the concern in his eyes as he sighed before relenting. If you said you were fine you were fine, pushing you would only make it worse.

“Okay but call me if you need okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled slightly tracing shapes over his covers as you ended the call. The room was starting to feel too small as you sat, the air almost stuffy. Nothing had even happened and yet you could already feel the anxiety building.

The pit in your stomach swirled as your hands grew clammy no matter how many times you wiped them on your jeans.

You were fine.

You had to be fine. 

Taking a breath you stood pacing the small space as you tried to halt the attack. Breathe in for 10 out for 10.

In for 10 out for 10.

“Fuck.” Your voice shook slightly as tears began to prick at your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to pull in a breath that wasn’t there. 

Your eyes darted around the room as you looked for anything to help but came up empty. You couldn’t call him. You knew the minute you did he’d drop everything and you didn’t want that.

No matter how bad this was - and it was bad by your standards - his match was more important.

Wiping the tears you sat back down closing your eyes as you tried to talk yourself through it.

You were fine.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

The breath he’d been holding since you’d spoken on the phone a few hours ago seemed to finally release as he spotted you in the crowd. His eyes lit up and a bright smile pulled at his lips as he made his way through the crowd towards where you stood, your own eyes lighting up when you noticed him.

“Hey.” He grinned pulling you in for a chaste kiss. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” You laughed but it was strained. Your smile slightly too tight as you fixed the cap over his curls. “You ready?” You asked pulling back ever so slightly. 

“You're shaking.” 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are I can see your hands.” Art sighed his smile pulling into a frown as he took your hand in his. “Your freezing as well.” 

Your face was still pulled into a tight smile but he saw right through it. The slight draw in your brow and the redness around your eyes gave you away almost immediately. Before you could say anything else he was pulling you through the crowd and behind the bleachers.

You swallowed back the tears which burned at your eyes. It had taken the whole two hours since the phone call for you to calm down even an inch and even now you still felt sluggish in your own body. 

“Art m’fine.” Your voice shook as you closed your eyes. 

“No your not.” He shook his head pushing a strand of hair from your face. “Why didn’t you call me?” You always called! It was bad enough knowing you’d walked from the dorms to the court like this but knowing you’d very possibly been like this since he’d last called you?

His own heart was racing at the thought.

“I didn’t wanna distract you.” His hand was now rubbing over your shoulder as you wiped at your eyes. “I know how much this means to you-”

“The match doesn’t matter.” He shook his head gently, tilting your chin up. Part of you already felt better just being near him, his presence a comfort in itself.

“Nothing matters more than you.” He smiled his eyes filled with warmth as his thumb flicked away a tear. “I’m not playing until I know you're okay. I can’t play knowing you're feeling like this.”

He pulled you closer rubbing a hand over your back. The match would never be more important than you - hell tennis would always come second to you. The fact the thought even crossed your mind was enough to have him debating putting the racket down and pulling you back to his dorm.

“Promise me you're still gonna play.” You whispered tucking your face into the crook of his neck as you breathed in the gentle scent of his aftershave for a moment. Your lungs seemed to work again as you pressed closer, sinking into his body.

“We’re not talking about tennis.” He murmured balancing his chin on your head. “You're all that matters.”

He meant his words, every single one of them. Sure he would play in the tournament but only once he knew you were okay, until then it was the last thing on his mind.

Tennis could never hold a torch to his love for you.

[ficfield]

3:07 A.M.

Request: I saw your one about Chris and his son!!! You should do one about him having a little girl instead. He’d be such a family man

Word count: 542

In this fic it’ll be a continuation from the previous dad!Chris fics, he already has a son basically. 

Chris Redfield was no stranger to early hours and adrenaline surges. He’d faced bioterror threats at midnight, woken to alarms blaring in remote jungles and icy wastelands. But nothing, not Wesker, not B.O.W.s, not even Kijuju could prepare him for the sheer, terrifying magic of watching his daughter be born at 3:07 A.M. 

The room was dim, quiet save for the beeping of the machines and the occasional rustle of nurses. Chris sat at the edge of the hospital bed, one hand tightly gripping his wife’s, the other gently brushing the damp hair from her forehead. 

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. 

She gave him a look halfway between a grateful smile and a ‘don’t-you-dare-say-another-positive-thing-until-sshe’s-out-of-me’ glare. Chris wisely shut up. 

Then, with a final push and a cry that made Chris’s heart burst and knees go weak, their daughter entered the world. 

The room fell still. A beat. Then a soft, newborn wail. 

Chris blinked fast. 

The nurse lifted the baby gently, and Chris, battle-hardened soldier, global hero, felt like he might pass out. 

“Congratulations,” the doctors said, a tired smile on her face. “It’s a girl.” 

The words hit him like tidal wave. A girl. His little girl. 

Wrapped in a soft pink blanket, she was handed to her mother first. Chris watched as his wife cradled their daughter, eyes glassy, murmuring soft nothings that made his chest ache. 

And then, she turned to him. “Chris… do you want to hold her?” 

He hesitated. “I-yeah. Yeah.”

His arms felt impossibly big, clumsy and too rough, but the moment she was in them, nestled against his chest, everything stilled. She was so ting. Warm. Real. 

Her eyes blinked open for a second, just a second, and Chris saw a familiar stormy grey. 

Noah’s eyes. 

That was it. The moment it hit him like a freight train. 

I have a daughter. 

At home, Claire had been up with Noah most of the night. The three-year-old had insisted on sleeping in the blanket fort Aunt Claire had helped build at 3 A.M. She hadn’t had the heart to say no. 

At exactly 3:15 a.m., Claire’s phone buzzed. 

Chris: She’s here, 7lbs 1oz. Looks like Noah. You’re gonna cry when you see her. 

Chris: I’m done for. 

Claire smiled, wiping a quiet tear. She turned to see Noah, hair tousled, rubbing his eyes, wandering out the fort. 

“Is the baby here?” he asked, voice soft. 

“She it,” Claire whispered, scooping him up. 

“Is she nice?” 

“The nicest,” Claire said. “You’re gonna be the best big brother.” 

Noah blinked. “Can she play dinosaurs?” 

Claire laughed. “Maybe in a few years.” 

Back at the hospital, Chris was sitting in the rocking chair, his daughter nestled in one arm, his wife sleeping peacefully in the bed. The room was dark, lit only by the glow from the city beyond the window. 

He kissed her forehead. “Welcome to the world, princess.” 

A beat.

“I’m gonna mess up a lot,” he whispered. “But I swear, I’ll be here. Every second. No monsters, no missions, no madness. Just me, you, your mom, and your big brother.” 

She made a tiny noise, like she approved. 

Chris grinned. 

“3:07 A.M., huh?” he murmured. “Best damn time of my life.” 

[dearstvckyx]

Every night, im sick and why? - Pezzy

It’s been five weeks since you last saw Max. You’ve both been missing each other deeply. When strange symptoms and late nights of nausea hit you hard in San Francisco, you chalk it up to stress. But a joking comment from Max turns into reality—and your world shifts completely. - The Neighbourhood , Staying Up

Pezzy x Reader , mentions of other steamers

Warnings: Pregnancy, mild language, comfort, found family, fluff, emotional moments.

The Neighbourhood Lyrics Masterlist - ⌂

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, the blue light of your laptop glowing on your face. It’s nearly 1 a.m. in San Francisco, and for the fifth night in a row, you feel like crap.

Your stomach twists. Your throat’s sore. You’re tired, nauseous, and not entirely sure why—until the FaceTime screen flashes and your heart leaps at the name.

MaxTheCat is calling…

You answer with a groggy smile. “Hey, Max”

He lights up at the sight of you, messy hair and all. “Hey you. Damn, you look like a zombie.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, rubbing your temple. “I feel like one.”

His brow creases. “Still sick?”

You nod. “Yeah… every night, I’m sick and I don’t know why.”

He pauses for a beat, then lets out a laugh. “Maybe you’re pregnant or something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying!” He throws his hands up. “That’d explain the mood swings and the fact you said ‘I miss you’ four times yesterday.”

You try to laugh it off, but something twists in your stomach—more nerves than nausea now. “You think I should… test?”

He goes quiet. “Wait. Are we—like, could we actually be?”

You both just stare at each other, the possibility suddenly becoming terrifyingly real.

Three Days Later

You’re staring down at a stick. Two pink lines. Not one.

You sit on the bathroom floor in your tiny San Francisco apartment, knees pulled to your chest.

Then you pick up your phone, looking for your longtime boyfriend’s name.

After 2 rings, he picks up the phone but before he could say anything you beat him to the punch “Max?”

His voice crackles through. “What’s up, beautiful?”

You take a breath. “You were right.”

There’s silence. Then: “Wait. You’re serious?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Six Months Later – Texas

The warm Texas sun dipped low in the sky, casting gold light through yours and Max’s living room windows as you stood back and watched pure chaos unfold in slow motion.

Grizzy was sitting on the floor surrounded by tools for a changing table, staring at the instructions, “who the hell made this so complicated to understand?”

“I think you just slow there man,” Droid offered, half-laughing, half-panicking as a paint can almost exploded on him as he was opening it.

“Jesus Christ!” Droid shouted, hands flying up.

“I told you not to pry it open like that dumbass!” Puffer called from the kitchen, holding a bottle of water, handing it to you.

You sat on the couch, hand on your belly as Olivia kicked softly inside. The boys had insisted on helping build Olivia’s nursery and decorating it. now that it was getting closer to the date and secretly didn’t want you nor Max to worry about it. Max’s mom had sent him some heirloom stuff and even his old baby stuff to add.

“Why didn’t we just pay someone to build this shit?” Grizzy grumbled again, staring at the pile of sad, scattered pieces on the floor.

“Because we’re not millionaires,” Smii7y mumbled under his breath, taping a paper “Baby Pez” banner to the wall.

The room fell silent.

Seven heads turned in unison.

Smii7y blinked, “wot?”

“You literally own a house and rent an apartment, bro,” Pezzy said slowly.

“You flew us first-class to Vegas because you ‘were bored,’” Droid added.

“You accidentally bought a second gaming PC because you forgot you already had one,” Puffer said, smirking.

Smii7y shrugged. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wanna pay for someone to build something.”

You let out a laugh, the first full one in days, hand on your belly. “This baby is going to have the weirdest, best set of uncles.”

Max came over, pulling you gently to your feet. “You say weird like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m pretty sure our daughter’s first word is gonna be ‘Puffer,’ and I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared for that.”

“I hope it’s ‘Grizzy,’” Grizzy piped up, holding up a screw like it was a microphone. “I’ve already accepted the role of favorite.”

Max leaned in and kissed your temple. “She’s gonna love all of you. But mostly you.”

Hospital Room

The room was warm and buzzing, voices low and awed as the boys took turns peeking into the clear hospital bassinet where Olivia slept peacefully — for now.

“She’s got a whole head of hair already,” Grizzy whispered, peering in like he was inspecting a rare artifact. “Bet she came out with a skincare routine too.”

“She’s literally glowing,” Droid added, crossing his arms. “Like she knows she’s a star.”

Smii7y tilted his head, squinting. “I feel like she’s judging me.”

“She should be,” Blarg chimed in from the corner, cradling a juice box he’d stolen from the nurse’s station. “You said you wouldn’t cry, and you did cry.”

“Those lights are bright,” Smii7y argued, blinking dramatically. “Could’ve been allergies.”

“Sure, man,” Droid muttered, grinning. “Definitely wasn’t your voice crackin’ when she opened her eyes.”

Amid all the noise and teasing, you and Max sat side-by-side, your shoulders touching as he rested a hand gently over your wrist. Olivia had just fallen asleep again after her first bottle, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically.

Then the chaos paused. Not because anyone said anything — but because Chris, hasn’t said anything.

Infact Chris was quiet.

Too quiet.

You all turned to look.

Puffer was standing beside the bassinet, eyes locked on Olivia like the world had narrowed to just that single moment. His bottom lip quivered just slightly, his brows furrowed in a way you’d never seen. He looked… soft. Lost. Reverent.

“Puff?” Max said, cautiously.

Puffer didn’t respond. He reached down instead, arms open, waiting for a nod from you.

You nodded gently. “Go ahead.”

He scooped Olivia up with a kind of care you wouldn’t expect from a guy who raged at Uno. His arms cradled her like instinct — like he’d held a hundred babies, even though you were pretty sure this was his first.

And then she started to fuss. A soft whimper at first, growing louder. Her nose wrinkled, her lip wobbled.

“C’mon, Liv, don’t start—” Puffer whispered.

But then—like magic—she stopped.

Everyone blinked.

Grizzy pointed. “Yo.”

“She stopped crying,” Droid murmured.

“In his arms?” Blarg looked offended.

“Is she broken?” Smii7y asked. “Or is he some kind of baby whisperer?”

“She’s got a favorite already,” Max muttered, mock-offended.

You smiled. “Uncle Puff.”

Chris looked up, and yeah—his eyes were glassy now.

“I don’t know why I’m crying, bro,” he said with a watery laugh. “She’s just… she’s real, man. Like our baby. Like she belongs to all of us.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Then everyone, everyone, started tearing up.

Smii7y was the first to break the silence. “Okay, who gave him the main character arc?”

“You’re just mad she didn’t stop crying for you,” Droid fired back.

“Watch your mouth,” Puffer mumbled, bouncing Olivia gently. “She’s sensitive.”

You leaned into Max, laughing softly through your own tears. He wrapped an arm around you, eyes never leaving the sight of Puffer and Olivia.

“She’s got the weirdest family,” you whispered.

“But the best one,” he replied. “Hands down.”

[chimivx]

That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 9.9k (part NINE of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

october 7th ~ monday ~ 9:58 a.m.

“Three, probably,” Wooyoung said, turning the wheel in his hands, parking along the side of the quiet street in front of Blend. Unbuckling yourself, you make a face and scoff.

“Three?” Sarcasm dripped from your lips. “You slut!”

Wooyoung turned the car off and glared at you. “You were on Yunho’s dick all summer, what the hell was I supposed to do?”

Grabbing the door handle you pursed your lips. “Fair enough.” The two of you popped the doors to the BMW open, but you reached a hand over the center console to grab his sweatshirt, yanking him back into his seat. With raised brows and attentive eyes he looked at you. Your words made him laugh. “Were they pretty?” “So pretty,” he whispered, narrowing his eyes. The same sarcasm you gave him, he handed right back.

“Really?” He nodded after your whisper.

His eyes flickered down to your lips. “They certainly were not as hot as you, though.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, Wooyoung giggling at the way you shoved his shoulder and dashed out of the car. Fixing the hoodie you wore, adjusting your jeans before he circled the car, you were able to tuck your hair behind your ears by the time he joined your side. Maybe you should’ve dressed a bit better, not only were you going to speak to a professor about his own daughter, you were spending the day with Wooyoung, and you were wearing a hoodie and jeans.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice gentle. With a nod you smiled and led the way, Wooyoung hanging close behind you.

He wore the same, so you shouldn’t be too panicked about your appearance, a black zip up hoodie on his top and baggy black denim jeans on his bottom. You were his colorful counterpart, two sides of the same coin. Plus, he was here with you, skipping classes to drive you around so the two of you could face some type of justice. He’s seen what's beneath the clothes anyway, nothing about them should bother you.

Keeping your gaze locked on the door to Blend, Wooyoung flashed his from side to side, surveilling the premises, like he was on watch, on alert.

The clothes worry most likely stemmed from last semester, when you caught him with Yeji. Aside from shattering your heart into a trillion pieces, it made you question a lot about yourself. You’ve been over this before, Yeji is the complete opposite of you. At the time, Wooyoung, alleged slut, would seem like he’d go after anything, but finding him with Yeji sparked an entirely different insecurity.

They would be the couple to rise to absolute fame and fortune entirely too fast, and then, like you’d hope and envision over many nights before bed, their Camelot would burst into flames and they’d both crash and burn. Entirely too dramatic. Wooyoung was right about the situation fucking with your brain scientifically. You’d have to tell him what you planned out for him and his alleged lover's future later.

Then you’d have to ask him about this emotional maturity stuff. The emotional intelligence thing. What was it, how did you get it, and when were you supposed to use it?

Stepping into Blend, into the air that was cooler than the outside, you look hopefully toward the counter for Theo, but freeze immediately. Wooyoung, unsuspecting behind you, let the door shut and bumped into your back, bringing a hand to your shoulder, standing directly behind you.

For the most part, the typical Monday morning, Blend was empty. A student sat by the windows working vigorously on her laptop, but aside from her the cafe was empty. Save for the two boys standing at the counter. Well, one leaning on the tallest part of the counter, the other sitting on the counter with his knees tucked into his chest, his gangly legs poking out of the rips in his jeans. Theo, behind it, speaking with both of them, looked straight at you as you walked inside, glanced at the boy behind you, and froze, just as you had.

Your knees turned into jelly, and Wooyoung tightened his hand on your shoulder as if he could feel it. 

“Let’s go,” he said to you. Judging by his tone, you know his eyes were hot on the three of them. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

Seonghwa and Soul, they both wore some type of remorseful look, the younger boys lips in a pout while the older boys brows were flipped over. You haven’t seen either of them since last Saturday, Soul when Tori pulled you away from him and his friends, and Seonghwa when you watched him battle with himself internally as Wooyoung smuggled you out of the ATZ house.

Interesting, really, how he could play the part of inconspicuous let me help you lover boy, seem so genuine, then turn out to be another player in the game of your life. That night, walking, or stumbling really, out of the house you never planned on setting foot in again, the way he looked at you… Shock, pain and confusion all wrapped into one cryptically beautiful face, it made you sick.

How could he possibly feel bad?

The other one, Soul. The freshman. The nineteen year old with a crush on you, he wore that face now. Pain, like he was holding something within that he needed to get out or he’d implode. The two of them here together, talking to Theo, who’s brother hated him a few weeks ago, it was all the more strange. It wasn’t until shit started hitting the fan that these boys started following you around.

“You’re here early,” Theo said.

Pointing your eyes at him directly, trying your hardest to not look at either babe to his left or his right, you clenched your jaw and tilted your head the slightest. “Not going to classes today,” you mumbled.  When Seonghwa’s gaze traveled behind you, you swore he sighed as he turned away, facing the counter so he wouldn’t have to look at the two of you for any longer. 

“Come on,” Wooyoung said, coming closer to your ear. “I don’t want to be here.”

An anger lived beneath the surface of your being. The feeling you had Saturday night when you unloaded onto Mina, and it was growing, it had been growing since that night. Face to face with them now, it was uncontrollable, you couldn’t hold it back.

Turning around, you put a hand to Wooyoung's cheek. Your whisper had his expression shift into something harder, understanding you within seconds. “Then you can go outside, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I’m not gonna leave you alone with them,” he said.

Your smile was slightly sadistic. “I was raised by Choi Yeonjun, I can handle myself.”

Wooyoung bit back his smile. He gave you a tiny nod. “Then, I’ll stay for the show.” His eyes did the thing again, they flickered to your lips. “Go get ‘em.”

Whirling around, you bounded for the coffee counter, all three boys caving within themselves more and more the closer you got. The space tightened, and nerves infected your veins, but your rage overpowered all.

Theo, standing up straight, glanced at his brother who sucked in a breath when you reached his side. “Hey, Ror,” he mumbled. “What can I-”

Facing Soul, looking him in the eye, you straightened your brows. “I want the same damn thing you’ve been making me for the last three weeks.” Soul was most definitely shaking, if you reached out to touch him you’d be able to feel it. “And, considering I have an allowance, I don’t think it’d be too much to get that Wednesday night Chai Tea now, would it?” Theo looked at Wooyoung, but Soul could barely give him a glance.

“No problem,” Theo said, and got to work.

Snapping your eyes to the boy behind the counter, you said, “Extra honey.” Turning back to the freshman who hadn’t moved an inch, you smiled at him. “What’s the matter, Soul? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Leaning on the counter, tipping your chin back a bit, you pouted. “You look like you’re a part of something you don’t really want to be a part of.” They boy gulped, his black eyes blinking feverishly. “What’d they do to you?” His eyes pointed behind you, at Seonghwa, but you put a hand on his thigh and he loosed a breath, coming back to you. “Don’t look at him, I’m right here.”

“Shota,” Theo spoke up, and you know he gave his brother a disapproving look.

“They made me do it, Aurora, I swear,” he breathed. Soul grasped his cheeks and inhaled. “He made me do it, Seonghwa, it was the initiation, I had to do something for each of them, his was you.” A rock formed in your gut, furthering the urge to clench your fist and launch it into Seonghwa’s jaw. “I had to get upperclassman attention from ITZ, and if I did, I passed, ‘cause I was desirable.”

A chill ran over your skin. Knowing what he’s been through, you shot a glare behind you at Seonghwa, one he shied away from. “You guys are disgusting.”

“He picked you, even though I wasn’t sure why, ‘cause you guys were a thing,” Soul continued on, the word vomit filling in some blanks you didn’t even know were blanks. “He had your location on his phone, you shared it with him or something, and he would be able to tell me where you were, where you were going, and I’d be able to find you.”

That made sense.

“I had to collect things for proof, or none of it counted,” Soul sucked in a breath, “You always wear lipgloss,” he glanced to your lips and scrunched up his face, “Except now, apparently, shit, and I’d walk you to class and take your straws from these cups, god.” Hiding his face in his hands now, he groaned and shook his head. “It sounds horrible like this,” he looked up and searched for his brother who bobbed his head, not looking up from his work.

“Keep going,” Theo said. “Tell her everything you told me.” He broke his fixed gaze on his work this time, shooting a glare at Seonghwa.

Soul, heartbroken, turned to you. “I recorded conversations… our conversations. For proof.” Your body went rigid. Standing up, you took a hand to your neck, grasping the collar of your hoodie for comfort.

“All of those times,” you whispered, and he pressed his lips together. His eyes were shining, like he was moments away from tears. “You… pestering me for attention, flirting with me like you couldn’t care less I told you I liked him,” you threw a hand back toward Seonghwa, then clasped that hand over your mouth, “I told you I liked him,” you whispered. Soul waited, flinching as you put the same hang on one of his knees. “Soul,” you said, and he nodded. There was no use in holding it all back now. What more did you have to lose? “I told you I had feelings for Seonghwa because I was hiding… a relationship, I guess I could call it, with Yunho.”

Theo, at the counter with your drinks, appeared just as shocked as his brother. “I knew you guys were up to something,” he muttered, sparing a look back at Wooyoung who perched himself up against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

Waving Theo off, you only spoke to Soul. “It looked like he was with Mina, right?” The freshman nodded again. “I was… the sidepiece… who thought she was the main piece. He made it really convincing, that he loved me, and he told me that. I was keeping him and I a secret in hopes that he’d break it off with her, like he said he would, but he never did, and he continuously lied to me about it.” 

Soul thought to himself, then said, “I mean, I figured something was up at some point when…”

“Tell her,” Theo’s tone went stern as his brother's voice trailed off.

“I had to get you to come to ATZ, that was the final thing,” he whispered. “If I could convince you to come to the house, by my invitation, I was in the clear.” His voice regained some strength. “You wouldn’t do it, I couldn’t get you to come, so he had me do something else.”

Soul's hand retreated into the pocket of his jeans. Pulling it out, his fingers in a fist, he offered it to you and you opened your hand. Discreetly, he dropped something soft in your palm and used his fingers to close yours. You didn’t even have to look, the feel of the lacy fabric told you enough.

“He told me that Yunho had something of yours,” Soul spoke above a whisper. If your blood wasn’t already running cold, it would be now. “If I could find it without him knowing I took it, I was in.” He gulped. “So, I did. It was easy, he never locks his door.”

“Where was it?” you whispered, your voice starting to shake.

Soul blinked. “In a drawer, next to his bed.” Squeezing your hand into a fist, you plunged it into your hoodie pocket and left the lace there. “Aurora?” When your eyes were back on him, he took a preparative breath. “Even though it looks like you aren’t with him anymore, I guess, I have to tell you…”

“Soul,” your voice wavered.

“They weren’t the only ones in there,” he whispered.

Jaw falling open, your knees really wobbled this time, like the earth had shook. Raking your hands through your hair, tugging at the strands, you took a step backward and fell into a pair of arms that secured your balance, wrapping around your waist. Dropping your hands to his, you gripped the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Wooyoung.

“Who the fuck?” you gasped.

“Mina,” Seonghwa said, and you dropped your head back onto Wooyoung's shoulder. A tear slipped down your cheek, one the boy holding you took from you with his cheek.

A singular horrid laugh came from your chest. “I don’t believe you,” you said, lifting your head to look at him, twisting in Wooyoung's arms. “You’re a fucking liar, Seonghwa. You knew what they were all doing the entire time, you preyed on my feelings, you had your little shadow stalk me and feed me more lies, how am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

“It wasn’t all lies,” Soul offered, taking your attention back. “I do like you, Aurora, but I remember what you said. That part wasn’t a lie.” Wooyoung's arms tensed around you.

“You can believe me because I had to hear all about it,” Seonghwa said, turning around so that his back was leaning on the counter. Looking down at you, that face he gave you Saturday night appeared. “And not from Yunho. From Mina.”

“What?” you sighed.

Seonghwa let his shoulders speak for him for a second, giving you half a shrug that also put emphasis on his own personal disappointment. “I’m risking a lot here, Ror, can we just acknowledge that first? I am the Vice President.” Your fingers dug into Wooyoung’s arms at his audacity. “What Wooyoung did Saturday night? What happened to him? That could happen to me, but here I am risking it all to tell you the truth.”

Rolling your eyes, where more tears had fallen from, you mumbled, “My hero,” and Theo chuckled to himself. 

Ignoring you, Seonghwa continued. “Mina knew about you and Yunho. At first she had her strong suspicions, but after you ended up in my bed and confirmed it, I was able to put her theories to rest, because they were real. She and I were already wrapped up in Yeji’s presidential era thing, so she leaned on me for help. I was supposed to distract you, keep you away from Yunho so she could secure him, but she wasn’t able to do it.” He shrugged. “Neither of you have been able to do it.”

“Her telling you that she’s never been with anyone before? It was all an act. She wanted you to think you had the upper hand because you could get him in bed, and she knew he wouldn’t tell you if they were hooking up because he hadn’t told you anything about them at all. You were so worried about keeping your own secret, and then our secret, that she knew you weren’t going to notice if he was fucking you both. At the party, when you popped off on her, your confession as she called it? That was supposed to get you in huge trouble with Yeji and the other girls, Mina was going to keep playing along like she didn’t know about you and Yunho.”

“If I did find out,” you whispered, unable to feel anything save for Wooyoung’s grip around you, “I would most likely come to you, I would tell you, ‘cause I trusted you. You would tell her I knew, wouldn’t you?”

Seonghwa swallowed, hard, then nodded. “I would’ve, yeah.” Whatever was left of the goodness you held for this boy crumbled to pieces. “This deal between us, it was included in the Yeji deal, the president deal. If either was… is broken, then we’re…” he glanced up at Wooyoung.

“Is that why you’re telling me this now?” you asked, the words harsh behind your teeth. “Here, in a place where they can’t hear you?” Wriggling around in Wooyoung’s arms he kept his hold around you tight, not knowing what the hell you would do if he let you go. “So your precious Vice President role isn’t taken away from you?”

“No, Ror, this is just where we’ve caught you,” he said, his voice falling quiet. “Soul and I, we’ve been speaking since Wooyoung moved out, the entire house is whispering to each other. It’s fucked up. All of it is fucked up. Realizing what’s happened, what it’s done to you, to him, to the rest of us… But, mainly you? Ror, you were one of the first students I met here, one of the first friends I made while everyone else looked at me like some sort of disgusting nepo-baby snob.”

“Nepo-baby?” Settling in Wooyoung’s arms, you rested your body against his. Even Soul looked at his senior with curiosity. Theo though, he hung his head.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa rolled his eyes, taking a breath. “My uncle’s the dean,” he nearly whispered. The shock that flashed over your face made him huff a laugh. “Easy for me to be Vice President.”

“Easy for you to spill all of this and have no consequences,” you grit your teeth. “No way in hell Hongjoong would kick you out, he’ll keep you close, won’t he?”

“I guess, I…” Seonghwa scoffed, pushing off of the counter to take a few steps around himself. “That’s why I’m telling you this, because of my uncle.” He gestured a hand toward Wooyoung. “He could reinstate you. Hongjoong expelled you for disruption, didn’t he? I watched him sign the notice. Disruption of the rules, disruption of the mission. If you get enough of us to come forward to speak for you, to vouch for you, you can submit an appeal. I’ll help.”

“Why?” Wooyoung’s tone was hot, sharp to the touch if it took physical form.

Seonghwa flashed him sorry eyes. “Because what the fuck are we letting them get away with? We joined these groups because we wanted to be around people like ourselves, people to trust, people to lean on, people to get through these four years with. Our freshman year, amazing. Sophomore year, amazing,” he glanced at you, “For the most part. That’s when it got screwy, in the end. It started to turn into a money grab for most of us. We all saw what it was doing to us on social media, we all experienced the Yeji tag follower rush. It was so easy to fall into her game, her plan.”

“Why’d you do it, Hwa?” you whispered, and he softened.

“Reputations are built fast,” he said, sharing a look with Wooyoung, “You know that all too well.” He returned his eyes to you. “Yeji knew of my uncle and what power he had. She offered me money, like she did with all of us, and then she threatened me. Ror, you already told me what you heard about me, what I liked to do to girls I sleep with? How everyone spun it into this thing, that it made you mine? She said…” he paused, sucking in a breath, “She said that if I didn’t help her she would tell the entire school board, including my uncle… That I…”

He couldn’t even get the words out. Clenching his jaw he tipped his chin back and blinked too many times, showing too much emotion for Park Seonghwa.

“I had to help Mina, I had to make Yeji president, I had to make Soul do what he did, or she would ruin my life,” he whispered, looking back at you. “That doesn’t make anything between us better, and I understand that. I understand if you never forgive me, ever. I don’t deserve it.” A part of your heart felt for him, as much as your anger was fueled by his presence. “But, she deserves to pay.” He hesitated, then his following words made you all crack a soft laugh. “More than she already has.”

After a breath, you shook your head, praying you were able to process and remember everything he’s told you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he sighed. “Just promise me you’ll bring me with you if you do anything about this, and I’ll tell you anything you want, Ror.”

Turning your head to peek up at Wooyoung, you waited for his blessing.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, shaking his head.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it together,” you said. “I need you to be okay with it, too.” 

He thought to himself, and shrugged, glancing away from you a couple times. “I mean, from what I know, he’s telling the truth,” he said quietly, letting his eyes travel to Seonghwa. “I didn’t know about Yeji threatening him with all of that, I thought it was just the whole kicked out of the frat thing.” The boys stared each other down, something unspoken happening in between it all. “She’s fucked up for that, Hwa,” he whispered, then held up a hand, “As much as you suck for doing all of this, much like myself… She’s fucked up, and deserves to pay.”

Looking at Seonghwa, the pain in his face somewhat resolved, he gulped and bobbed his head. He turned his gaze down to you. “As much as I want to tell you to go fuck off,” you began, and he tensed, “I unfortunately trust this guy,” you nodded back to Wooyoung, “So if he says you’re telling the truth, I think I have to believe you, too.” A small smile broke onto his lips. “It feels stupid as hell though,” you held up a hand, “I just said this to Wooyo, Hwa. Please, for the love of god, don’t fucking embarrass me. Again.”

“I won’t,” he said, tone hurried and rushed. “Aurora, I won’t.”

Taking a steadying deep breath for yourself, and what you’re about to agree to, you tell him what you have planned for the day. That Soobin finished his lecture around one o’clock, and that you and Wooyoung were going to go in and speak with him. About what, though, you still weren’t sure. Walking into his classroom guns blazing didn’t seem ideal, and Seonghwa agreed with you.

“You know, Soobin is friends with my uncle,” Seonghwa said, like it were everyday information. Eyes shooting open wide, standing firmly on your own two feet now, you spun toward Wooyoung and wacked his arm. Cringing, he covered the spot with his hand and muttered a joke about you beating him again.

“Chan said this,” you restated, bringing up what the boy had said to you Friday night. “Soobin has a friend of importance, holy shit.” 

“So we go to Soobin, then we take it to my uncle,” Seonghwa said, laying out the plan. He glanced at Soul, still sitting on the counter, watching you all with admirable patience. “I think you’re stuck with us, kid.”

Soul sat up tall, averting his gaze over to you, knowing it was your call. A smile snuck onto his lips when you nodded toward him. “Come with us,” you said gently. “You have four years in that house, it’s better to make a change now.” The boy jumped off the counter and tucked his hands behind his back, ready for the next call to action. Theo smiled at you and it told you plenty. He didn’t need to say anything to express his thanks and his apologies, he was able to wrap it all up in the curve of his cheeks.

“Crushes only,” Wooyoung said to Soul, motioning toward you, and the freshman widened his eyes and nodded, bowing his head in understanding. 

“Four of us could be enough,” Seonghwa said, scanning the group before him. Looking at you he asked, “Should we get Tori, too? Make it five? The more, the better.” The weight of the plethora of unread messages and missed calls living on your phone made it onto your face. Pulling his lips into a frown, Seonghwa said, “Or… not?”

“I haven’t spoken to her since the party,” you mumbled. “Which makes me want to ask you, what I wanted to ask you before,” you paused and he nodded, “Did she know?”

“No,” Seonghwa sighed, answering you as fast as he possibly could. “She didn’t know anything, she and Yuna weren’t involved. They were too close to you, Yeji knew better than to involve them. They found out everything in real time with you, last week.”

Damn. Which meant she was going through this alone.

“What about Mingi?” you asked, biting your tongue, praying to a god your father never taught you about. If he knew, and Tori found out he knew, and he didn’t tell her anything… Almost three years of her life would be torn apart. Almost three years with the love of her life.

Seonghwa shook his head. “Mingi wasn’t in on it either.” Thank god. Hesitating, he glanced away for a moment. “Yunho didn’t know anything either, for what it’s worth.”

You started to laugh, all of the boys looking to you with worry. “Of course he didn’t,” you laughed even louder, smacking a hand to your thigh. Wooyoung slid a hand over your shoulder. “That just means he was playing his own damn game. A little side quest. How long can I keep fucking both these girls before one of them finds out?” 

Yes, him.

Yes, Yunho.

You knew this. You’ve always known this. It shouldn’t hurt this bad.

You just feel stupid for falling for it.

You feel stupid for thinking this entire time, since May, that you had the one up on Mina with Yunho. That you were winning the game, that he was yours. But, while you and Mina played cops and robbers, chasing after one another every other night, unknowingly tossing Yunho back and forth, you had no idea he was the one holding the gun.

Digging for your phone in your back pocket, you swiped open to your messages.

You needed her.

You needed Tori.

Ignoring the paragraphs you’d read later now that you know she’s really on your side, you opt for a phone call, tapping the button in the corner. Pressing it to your ear, you wandered away from the boys, praying that they wouldn’t annihilate each other while you weren’t there to referee. It took two rings, but she answered with a heave of a breath.

“Aurora?” Half panicked, half shocked, either way, her voice was the greatest comfort.

“Torilynn?” Hitting her with her full, birth given name, you braced yourself for her shriek. And, oh, did she shriek.

“I can’t even be mad at you for saying that,” she said. “Why are you calling me, holy shit, where the fuck have you been?”

“At home,” you said. “Dad’s been driving me back and forth everyday. I can’t be in that house. I don’t even know how you can be in that house.”

“Ror, we’re falling apart,” she lowered her voice. “We told Ryujin, me and Yuna, and she lost her shit. It’s like a battlefield up in here, Yeji won’t show her face. Mina and Chaeryeong are speaking for her, but even then, no one knows who to believe. I want to say we’re on the winning side though, ‘cause it’s pretty much all of us against Yeji. What’s she gonna do, expel us all?”

“Tor,” you said, putting an end to her ramble. “We have more to tell you.”

“We?”

“Me, Wooyoung, Seonghwa-”

“Seonghwa?!” she shouted.

Closing your eyes, you sighed. “And, Soul.”

“How the… What the fuck?” The line went quiet, then she uttered another, “What… the fuck?!”

“I’m at Blend. Its operation take down Yeji and Mina in a few hours. How fast can you get here?”

You heard her take a breath, then move around wherever she was. “Getting ready now, I’m at the house.” Something was dropped on her end, it sounded like a hairbrush. “And Mina?”

“Yeah,” you started to smile. “Guess who hung out with her big brother Chan Friday night?”

“ROR!”

“Guess who was right about her being a big, fat, liar?”

Tori, silent for a few seconds, came back with the sound of an echo, like she’d put the phone on speaker. “You,” she mumbled. “Ror, I’m sorry.”

You were on apology overload for the day. “Don’t be, we were all being deceived. Just get here as soon as you can. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even Yuna, unless she asks.”

“Holy shit, okay,” she breathed, the sound of her makeup clicking open and closed sounding through the phone. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you soon.”

october 7th ~ monday ~ 12:23 p.m.

It took Tori a half hour to get to Blend, longer than any of you anticipated, but when she arrived, hair done, makeup done, dressed to impress, you couldn’t blame her. Where there were nerves, there was an exquisite, done up appearance. Admitting she got carried away the second she stepped into the cafe, she bustled over to where you were sitting at a booth beside Wooyoung, Seonghwa and Soul across from you. Leaping from your seat, outstretching your arms, she fell into them, squeezing you into oblivion.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she muttered into your hair, rocking you back and forth. “Choi Aurora, don’t you ever ghost me again.” When she pulled back she used her baby purse for ammo and knocked it against your arm. Glancing at Wooyoung who met you with a small smile, you couldn’t help but laugh. Looking at him, too, Tori shook her head. “What the fuck is going on?” She took in Seonghwa, and Soul. “How are you not doxxed? Either of you?” Putting a hand on her shoulder, her light colored sweater matching the weather outside, you pulled her attention back to you and smiled. “I’ll update you in the car. We need to go now. It takes a half hour to get to the law side of the school, we need to leave.”

The boys all rose from the booth, heading toward the door as Tori asked, “What, who’s driving?”

Wooyoung gave her a smirk and spun his key on his finger. “I am,” he sang as he passed by her, and the three filed out the door.

Walking side by side with her, she linked her elbow with yours and leaned closer to you. “Did you guys-“

“No,” you huffed, pulling your brows together.

Tori, shocked, asked, “But, you’re back on? You two?” 

Outside of the cafe now, watching him circle around his BMW, taking his time, waiting for you, you looked at your best friend without an inkling on your face. “I don’t know. We’ll see once this shitstorm is over.” Unlinking your arms you hurried for the passenger door and slid into your seat the same as Wooyoung, who met you inside with a smile.

Soul ended up in the middle of the backseat, both Seonghwa and Tori squishing against him to lean forward toward the front seats. Tori sat behind you, while Seonghwa sat behind Wooyoung. The two glanced at one another. If looks could kill, Seonghwa would be done for.

“I don’t think I like that you’re coming with us,” she grilled.

Wooyoung looked through the rearview mirror as he manipulated the car out of the tight, parallel park job. “Tori, he’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay, Yeji fucker,” she said, and you laughed. Wooyoung, offended as ever, twisted his face up and shot you both a look. “She might be able to forgive you faster, but I’m best friend, ain’t no way in hell you’re living that shit down, Wooyoung, I won’t let you. This girl was messed up for months.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “Fair enough.”

Putting your hand over his on the shifter, where it lived all morning, you shared a smile with him, one that made Tori whine.

“Somebody tell me everything right now or I’m going to lose my mind.”

And so, you filled her in.

For thirty minutes the boys sat in silence while you and Tori yapped endlessly back and forth. Seonghwa popped in occasionally to give his input, or when you’d ask him if you were telling the story right, you know, the one he just told you, but other than that he let you take the reins. Not one of them dared to get between two best friends, not one wanted to feel the wrath of interrupting you two.

She heard about the bar with Chan, you heard about her solemn time spent with Mingi trying to work things out amidst the chaos. You told her how your dad has been, she told you what it’s been like in the house this week. Spoiler: hell. Filling her in on Souls purpose here, she told you about Jongseob and how he still wouldn’t leave her alone.

For thirty minutes, you wouldn’t shut up. Not until Wooyoung pulled up in front of some architectural masterpieces, buildings stretching into the sky for miles. Beiges, tans, sparks of earthy orange, the law side of Nasara was breathtaking. It was like the Conoscenza on steroids.

“Holy shit, they get it good over here,” you whispered within the quiet air, and four hums agreed with you. Nerves shot down into your gut as Wooyoung pulled into a parking spot, the lines of white in a row along the center median of the wide road, the median covered in green grass and delicately manicured bushes and shrubs.

“Which building is he in?” Tori asked, and you answered with the press of your finger onto the glass window.

“That one,” you said, finger in the direction of the largest building to your left. “He’s on the fifth floor. We have to hurry, he might leave right after he’s done.”

The five of you yanked off your seatbelts and threw the doors open, but Tori stopped you before you could get out. “What are we going to say to him?” She waited, and when you couldn’t answer she asked, “What are you going to say to him?”

Flickering your eyes between hers, you gulped and tried to smile. “Honesty. The truth. Even if he doesn’t believe it.” 

She took your words, and lowered her chin, signifying her support. “Let’s go, Choi.” 

Waiting for you outside of your door, Wooyoung pushed it shut once you stepped out, Seonghwa and Soul a few steps ahead of everyone. Tori flashed you a look before she followed the boys, letting you know she was on your side, that she would have your back no matter what happened inside of this classroom.

“You gonna be okay?” Wooyoung asked quietly once Tori turned to follow the other two.

With a slight shrug, you tightened your lips. “I think so.” He waited for you to say more, knowing that you were going to say more. “It’s all too much, it’s overwhelming. Like, none of it feels like it should be real.”

“But it is,” he added, agreeing with you.

“It is,” you sighed.

He held open his hand, offering it to you. He wore a ring on his middle finger, a skinny silver band, and when you placed your palm over his and laced your fingers together, it was cool to the touch.

“I got you,” he said, meeting your eyes, calmness becoming him. “No matter what happens, with any of this, with us, I got you. I’m here for you.”

A breath corrupted your lungs, forcing you to look away from him. Wanting to ignore how your heart started to beat fast, how he suddenly had the ability to become a rock for you, part of you didn’t want to. You wanted to feel excited, you wanted someone like this, someone genuine. And, if you thought back on it, like really thought back on it, he’s always been someone for you to lean on. You just never allowed yourself to.

Squeezing his hand, you dropped them between your bodies and pulled him along, walking faster than any of them, you and Wooyoung taking the lead. Seonghwa and Soul were talking about some anime the freshman was into, an old one that you’re certain your father watched as a kid. Up on the sidewalk now, turning to question him with a brow, you ignored Tori smiling at you and Wooyoung's intertwined hands.

Soul laughed at something Hwa said, then once he stepped up on the sidewalk he looked around at the five of you. “Hey,” he said, serious as he was the day he told you he fucked Theo’s girlfriend. “It’s us,” he laughed between his words, “They’re us.”

“Are you talking about Avatar?” you asked, and he nodded, proud. “Avatar the Last Airbender? That’s not anime, did Theo teach you nothing?”

Soul shoved his hands in his back pockets and cocked his head to the side, his blonde hair brushing over his forehead. “Damn, and all this time I thought you were Aang.”

Holding up your hand, the one Wooyoung wasn’t clinging to, you motioned with one finger around the group. “We are Team Avatar?” Soul’s cheeks broke out into a grin. “I am Aang, Soulie.”

Wooyoung nodded, rubbing a hand over his chin. “She is,” he uttered under his breath.

Seonghwa snickered. “That makes you Katara.”

“What?” The hand dropped quickly, his brows furrowing tight above his eyes, nestling right into the center of his forehead. “I would not be Katara.” Moving your other hand over the one you were holding, you tapped it twice.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, and the boys laughed together. “You’re Katara, it’s okay.”

“What does that make me?” Tori’s face read that she wanted no part of this, but equally wanted all the parts of this. “I’m not Zuko, nor am I Sokka.”

“That’s why you’re Toph,” Soul said without missing a beat, and you and Wooyoung lost it. Weighing her options, she glanced about the trees and shrugged.

“She’s badass, I’ll take it,” she said, then sent a look toward Soul and Seonghwa. “You’re definitely Zuko,” she pointed at Hwa, then Soul, “Which makes you Sokka.”

Everyone narrowed their eyes at him, the freshman stuck with four juniors. His silly little smile lit up his face as he took each one of you in. 

He shrugged. “Only Sokka would be able to force you into choosing which character you are.” Tori had something smart to say to him, something that Seonghwa bounced off of, the three of them bickering with one another like their new aliases would. You thought of Sokka’s other charm and how it related to Soul, one you weren’t too keen on sharing amongst the group right now, so you would save it for later.

Here’s hoping he’d make it to stick around for later.

Their bickering continued into the building, their whispers echoing off the sculpted walls and ceilings, all the way up to the fifth floor. Five stories of listening to their pointless arguments of which episode was the best, and was Avatar really an anime or not? Five flights of stairs, and by the time you had reached the landing of number five, they still hadn’t figured it out.

“Guys, shut up,” you hissed, turning to them once they made it up behind you. Like children, they snapped into place. “It’s that room,” you pointed a finger to the third metal door down the hallway to the right. “When I looked up his lecture it said floor five, room eight.”

The man was there. Mina's father was in that room, and you were here in the hall of a building you’ve never once set foot in so that you could tattle to a girl's daddy about how she hurt your feelings.

Your friends were quiet.

They were quiet until you turned to face them and said, “Maybe we should just leave.” Audible groans and protests came out of each one of them. Looking down at the floor, your legs like lead, not even Wooyoung’s hand over your shoulder could soothe the feeling.

“We’re so close, Ror,” Seonghwa said.

Tori nodded profusely. “After all of this, you can do it. You said it, go speak your truth.”

Truth. Your perception of truth is so distorted at this point, how were you so sure that the four of them weren’t lying to you right now in this moment? Convincing you that it was alright to confront this innocent man, persuading you to walk into his classroom and shame him for the daughter he raised. What if it was all a lie?

You should’ve dropped out when you had the chance.

“Ro,” Wooyoung whispered. He took both hands to your shoulders and walked you backward, away from the others who took the cue to wander down the other side of the hall. Looking into his eyes, his wide, sparkling, empathetic eyes, you took a breath to ease your pounding heart. “You’re okay. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, no matter what any of them say. No one is forcing you to do this.” He nodded, making sure you nodded along with him. “This isn’t me trying to talk you into it, but you’ve come this far. If anyone has the capability of going in there and talking to this Soobin guy, it’s you.” You tried to look away, but he took a finger to your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “You’re Aang,” he whispered, and it made you both laugh.

After a long deep breath, you whispered, “And you’re Katara,” just to laugh all over again. His toothy smile flushed your cheeks pink. “Only if you want to be,” you added, and he rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t want to be your Katara.”

Standing within the world's biggest hallway, the space seemed to close in on you, the air growing tighter, and that feeling from the car ride this morning came back. Butterflies filled your belly. His finger on your chin, frozen in place, didn’t dare to move. Only his eyes shifted to your lips, and just as you were both about to bite the bullet and close the inches between you, the doors to four different classrooms flew open.

Jumping apart, rejoining reality, you both turned away from one another for a few seconds as students poured out into the hall. Your friends down the other end blended in with everyone else, you couldn’t spot them as you faced Wooyoung. When his eyes found you again, he gave you a smile, then nodded toward the classroom that was nearing empty.

“I got you,” he said, holding up a pinky finger.

He’s got you.

You’ve got you.

You could do this.

Tiptoeing toward the classroom, Wooyoung getting lost in the crowds that washed him down the hall, you hovered a few feet from the door that was now closed. Students were either filing into other rooms or trekking down the mile long staircases. It would just be you and Soobin. If he allowed you to speak.

Just you and Soobin. You would speak your truth.

After a breath that ended with the heaviest sigh, you threw away your inhibitions and grabbed the doorknob, pushing the heavy metal open with a creak. The lecture room was like any other, numerous rows of chairs behind long tables all facing a large desk toward the corner of the room in front of a chalkboard and a tall projector and screen. Like the rest of the building it smelled of books and old paper, like school. 

The man standing behind his desk gathering his things into a bag looked like school.

Tall, a stretched out type of stocky, Soobin had dark hair with a few strands of pepper streaking through it. Glasses perched on his nose, he used the knuckle of a finger to push them back after shoving a few leather bound books into his bag. You wouldn’t lie, he was stunning, you cursed yourself for not considering law as an option for a major. Tori was going to eat this up.

He didn’t hear you until you took a couple steps toward him, and still, there were feet upon feet of space between you. His head popped up, his hair parted to the side somewhat gracing his forehead ever so slightly.

“Hi,” he said, his voice clear, and so deep. “Can I help you?” Looking at your trembling fingers folded in front of your middle, Soobin’s brows dipped. “Is everything alright? Were you just in my lecture?”

“No,” you said, then cleared your throat, feeling the tightening begin already. “I, uh, I wasn’t, I just… Was hoping you’d have a few minutes to talk?”

Glancing about his empty room, he peered at his things, then back to you. “If this is about the practice, I’ll have to send you to enrollment, I’m not-”

“It’s about Mina,” you pushed from your lips, cutting him straight off. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Mr. Choi, but I could really use your help.”

Setting his jaw straight, his lips that always seemed to rest in a smile pointed down. Looking in front of him, at the rows of tables and chairs, he sighed, then nodded once. He stepped around his desk, leaving his things behind. Motioning for you to follow him, he sat on the table of the first row, letting his longer than life legs hang off the edge. His feet were almost touching the floor.

“Is she okay?” he asked, not giving away anything with an inflection in his tone. He was a lawyer, he was going to be good at this.

Sitting beside him, using your hands to help you up onto the table, you left ample space between you and Soobin. “Uh, she’s okay,” you said, folding your hands in your lap. “I’m not.”

He released a breath, letting his head shake, pointing his focus forward. “One good year,” he mumbled to himself. “What’d she do?”

Taken aback, you stuttered a few times before you were able to say, “A lot. She was involved with… a lot. I felt bad coming here, you don’t know me, I don’t know you, but I’m at a loss of where to go, or what to do.”

Soobin leaned back on his hands, his wide chest curving inward, his light blue button down clinging to his muscle. “Your feelings are valid, Aurora.” The way your eyes shot open made him smile, his lips pulling to the side. “You’ve met Chan, kid. The only boy in the world who cannot keep his mouth shut. I was fully prepared for you to come in here today, he gave me the rundown. Usually I walk out with my class so I can get home as fast as I can to my wife.”

“Faden,” you said, and his smile grew.

“Chan ran you through our family tree, I heard,” Soobin said. “Always some type of excited, that one is,” he glanced away from you, “Funny, too,” he looked back at you, “But, not as funny as my Wonwoo.” A snicker passed through his lips, one you joined in on. “Don’t know why I felt the need to share that with you. Probably has to do with the fact that you share no relation with my family in any way, yet our history cannot help itself. Our lives are still intertwined.”

“You mean,” you cleared your throat, “My dad?”

Soobin pressed his lips into a flat smile and raised his brows. “Your dad, Aurora.”

“Chan told me he was… an asshole to Faden,” you said, then shook your head quickly, “Mrs. Choi, sorry.” He huffed a laugh.

“Soobin and Faden,” he assured you. “Don’t stress it.”

“What happened between them?” you whispered your question, and for the first time it seems you’ve struck him with the unknown.

Taking his time to think, the process happening all over his face, he tilted his head. “How new is this for you? Chan, and this?”

Toying with your fingers, you said, “Very new. I didn’t know any of you existed until a week or so ago.”

“Right,” Soobin said, his tone always breathless, yet on point. “I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you what happened between them, Aurora.” Pointing his brows, he shook his head. “If you asked your father, would he talk about it with you?”

“I dunno,” you muttered, glancing down at your hands. “We talk about a lot, but he’s never brought up his past like that. It’s always vague, he likes to start from when I was born. He said that’s when his life began, or something.”

His smile triggered yours. “That’s beautiful,” he said. “I know how he feels.” There’s a few seconds of quiet before Soobin sat himself up and sighed. “Now, speaking of children, let’s get to Mina, shall we?” He gave you a look that told you you must’ve physically turned green. “It’s alright, Aurora, Chan spoke with me. I’ve been debriefed,” he laughed, “Don’t hold back on me, I know my daughter, I can handle it.”

“I’m just going to tell you everything I know,” you whispered, and he smiled with his nod. “All of it, Soobin.”

Twisting on the table, trying to break some type of ice, he folded his long legs beneath him and motioned for you to do the same. “Hit me,” he said, his chin low and his gaze on focus mode.

Every nerve you felt out in the hallway had vanished. Something about this man, about Soobin, made it entirely too easy to speak to him. He listened, he took in every word, every sentence, no matter how clinically insane it sounded, and he digested it. Processing in real time, the man, a certified genius allegedly, dots were being connected and ties were being tied. 

Though most of what you told him was you accusing his daughter of being a liar, and a manipulative bitch, he took it all like you were talking to him about the shoes you had bought for the school year. Not one thing that came out of your mouth made him flinch, made him itch, made him stop you out of fear of blowing his top.

How crazy was this chick?

Unsure of how long it actually took to tell him everything, you were almost near tears twice, something he took into account.

“I swear to you,” you whispered by the end of it all. Glancing about the room, you held one hand on your heart and the other in the air. “Whatever the hell it is they do in court,” you said, and he laughed. “I solemnly swear. I”ve spoken the truth. My truth. I’m not here to accuse your daughter, I am not here to get her into trouble, I am not here to make her out to be a bad person, because believe me, Soobin. Aside from this shit, I know she could be a really good person.”

Dropping his eyes, Soobin bobbed his head and shot you a half smile. “First of all, thank you for coming to me. I appreciate you coming here, telling me all of this.” Taking a needed deep breath, you popped your brows. “Second of all,” he started, sitting forward, placing his elbows on his knees, “I am so sorry.” His pause held power, a lawyer's choreographed moment of silence. “This is not me apologizing for her, or because of her. This is me apologizing to you as a person on the outside. You didn’t deserve any of that, no person does.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Soobin glanced at the door. “Your friends that you said came with you, are they okay?”

Following his line of sight, not a soul seen from the tiny window on the door, you said, “I think so, for now.” Whipping your head back to him, your wide eyes excited his own. “Seonghwa, Park Seonghwa. He’s here with me. The Vice President of the fraternity.”

Soobins cheeks broke out into a knowing smile. “Jimins nephew,” he said with a chuckle.

Energy surged through your body. “Yes,” your whisper was breathless. “Him. He said he could help us. That you guys… You could help us. All things with Mina aside, the wench sitting on the throne in my sorority needs to be taken care of.” Soobin considered his options. “I know, your daughter is involved, I can understand if you won’t. Either way, we’re going to go to the dean's office and do this all over again, except it will be five of us in that room with him. Maybe more if we can get my best friend's boyfriend to join us, and knowing him and her, it won’t take much convincing. Trust me.”

Soobin rolled his eyes playfully and looked down to the table beneath him. “Oh, don’t worry, I remember my twenties.” Sharing a laugh with him, he reached over to you when it got quiet, placing a firm hand to your shoulder. A fatherly hand. “Like I said, thank you for coming here first. Trust me when I say, that when the time comes, I’ll stand with you and your friends.”

Holy shit.

You could’ve jumped out of your skin. Tossing your head backward with the loudest sigh, a tear seemed to slip out at the same time. Unable to help yourself, you launched yourself forward and hugged him. Returning it, his arms firm and strong, Soobin let go when you did, letting you hug him for as long as you needed.

Pulling away from him you touched your cheeks and let out a laugh. More tears were falling. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Soobin put his hand back on your shoulder. “That’s okay, let it out. You just revisited some traumas, it’s heavy to talk about, but the more we do, the lighter it gets.”

Wiping your cheeks clean, you sniffled. “You should be a therapist.”

Soobin breathed through a laugh. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“I mean it,” you said. “You seem like a good dad, too. I’m sorry this is all happening with Mina.”

He brushed the matter off, then hopped from the table, offering you his hand to help you down safely. When you looked up at him, he smiled and said, “Your dad seems like a good dad, too.” The words brought the tears back to your eyes. “Learn about his past, but don’t hold it against him. People can learn, people can change. I’ve watched it happen, in three different people.”

Out of all the names you’ve learned, you couldn’t place who he was talking about, but figured it must’ve meant the world to him.

“Mina can, too,” you offered, and he smiled, grabbing your shoulder once more before he walked to his desk. 

“Thank you, Aurora, but now I have to go home to my wife.”

Heading for the door, you waved at him and flashed him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Soobin. I appreciated your time.”

Hitting you with one last lazy smile, he propped his phone up to his ear, and just as you were walking through the doorway, you heard him say, “Hi, my love. We’re going to need to come up here together within the next couple of days, can Kai take the store for a day or two?”

The hallway was silent.

Pulling the door closed behind you, you stepped away from it and ran your hand through your hair.

You’d done it. You had spoken to Soobin, you told him everything, every detail down to his daughter lying about his son. He heard all about Yunho, all about how he teetered back and forth between you and Mina, and she knew about it, but you didn’t make her out to be the complete villain there, Yunho easily fit the mold as well.

A grown adult, one who works at the college, now knew about Yeji’s scheme. It was out there. It was no longer a petty thing for your make believe hierarchy shit.

He believed you. He believed it all.

The truth, your truth.

Facing the end of the hall your friends were sitting around, you watched as their heads perked up.

Their truth.

Our truth.

Your steps started out light, the dizziness you felt since stepping out of Soobins presence intoxicating, but the closer you got to them, the more they came into view, their beautiful faces and their anxious anticipation, your steps turned into strides, which then turned into a run as a smile and a ragged laugh graced your lips. Their murmurs could be heard, flowing in one ear and out the other, their excited energy influencing your own.

Wooyoung leapt to his feet, the others rising with a hesitance, not wanting to get their hopes up too high before you had the chance to spill the news, but the boy couldn’t hold himself back. Walking toward you, knowing you weren’t going to slow down he opened his arms, throwing them around you as you launched yourself onto his chest, arms tightening around his neck. With your feet off the floor, he laughed and stumbled backward at the impact.

Catching your breath, your shoes found the tile. Tangling your hands within his hair, his dark waves framing his face, you pulled back from him and pressed your noses together. One of his hands took to your cheek, brushing away tears that lingered and new ones that fell. Heart pounding between your lungs, you loosed a laugh with him and pressed your hands to his cheeks.

“I did it,” you whispered, and he smiled, his gaze full of pride.

“You did it,” he whispered back, and then he lost himself in you, your lips finally meeting. A kiss way overdue, yet so perfectly timed you couldn’t even bring yourself to reprimand your heart that reached out toward him.

You’d done it. Soobin knew, and he was willing to help you.

And, as much as it was a relief to have gotten past this first step, knowing what was to come did nothing but scare you shitless.

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[igotanidea]

Spoiled: Dick Grayson x reader

Summary: Women's day with Dick.

Warning: a little innuendo at the end, but no worries, minors allowed ;)

***

After knowing each other for a few years they became a couple in June, hence 8th March of a current year was their first International Women’s Day together.

Well- to say the whole truth – it was her first IWD with him, but the point stood.

And Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-way when it came to his girlfriend(s).

Since he might have fucked up Valentines’ day (in his defense he wasn’t entirely sure of how she felt about it since there was never even a hint on her part that she wanted to celebrate it and their relationship was still kind of fresh) it was obvious he had to make up for it, by giving her the best 8th March celebration ever.

“Morning sweetheart.”

At this point she should have been used to him visiting her apartment in the most abnormal morning hours, coming back from his Nightwinging-shit. Regardless, being torn from the sleep by his blue and black silhouette and domino mask, sometimes with the widest, charming, boyish grin and some other with blood and injuries all over was something she couldn’t move past.

“mmhmh….” She muttered rolling on her side in the bed to check the hour. 5 am. 5 am at fucking Friday. “are you hurt….?” Poor girl couldn’t even find any strength to bash him.

“no, not exactly—”

“then I’m sure it can wait for two or three hours? Come on, Grayson. I start my shift at 9 today, let me have some more rest….”

“But—” Dick frowned taking off his mask and studying her silhouette curled under the cover, one leg still in the dreamland. Did she really forget what day was it today?

“Mh. Just shut up and come here….” She mumbled again lifting the hem of the blanket, silently inviting him in and it actually did lift his spirits.

As quick as possible he stripped of his suit and slid into the bed next to her, immediately wrapping arms around her waist pulling her close. Unsure whether it was him looking for comfort and assurance he would always have someone to come home to, or rather him giving her love and warmth and safety – a must have for a woman.

“Y/n….” he whispered in her ear, running fingers up and down her back soothingly, creating the atmosphere of intimacy and love.

“The hell you want?” she snuggled closer

“Best wishes…”

“What…?” she raised her head, searching his eyes, all the sleepiness leaving her at once “you sure you’re not injured? Like – your head for example? My b-day are in September, our anniversary is in June, I didn’t win a lottery, there’s no occasion today so what are you talking about?”

“Y/N! baby!” Dick laughed pecking the top of her nose playfully “come on, think for a moment!”

“It’s 5 a.m. are you seriously asking me to freaking think?”

“What kind of special day do we have in March?”

“World Self-harm Awareness Day?”

“What?” he laughed whole-heartedly “that’s really the first thing that came to your pretty little head?”

“Jerk.”

“Come on baby… Flowers, chocolates, fancy dates…”

“Are you trying to remind me you fucked up Valentines’ Day?”

“It was not me! It was Nightwing’s fault.”

“Oh yeah, right. Blame your alter ego and you’re on a highway to split personality. Seriously what-“ she lift herself, a bit annoyed at his games now and her eyes landed on the calendar on the wall, noticing the date marked in a red circle and an exclamation mark. “Oh….”

“You there now?” Dick smirked

“I hate you Grayson-“ she muttered leaning forward to kiss him softly

“Just wait till you see what I planned for the day.”

***

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Wait? Did I already say that? Too bad.

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Such a shame that the festive day was taking place on Friday, cause otherwise he would lock her inside the apartment keeping her all to himself and spoiling her on the entire day.

But it was obvious from the get go that she was not going to skip a work day and there was no way to stop her (power girl simply liking her work, it was not a crime).

On the bright side – it was the perfect opportunity to extend the celebration on a whole weekend.

Starting from having the perfect evening.

Y/N could only do as little as step inside the apartment, after work, exhausted after all week with her brain becoming a jello, legs giving up, when she was snatched by a pair of strong arms and held close to a broad warm chest. And the contented sigh that escaped her lips was definitely not a sign of complaint.

"Missed you my beautiful woman."

"I can tell." she chuckled in response, glad to be back home to him.

"Now come on, pick up your prettiest dress and we're going out.'

"We're what?" that was unexpected "and what do you mean prettiest dress? I don’t have any dresses-"

"Good thing your boyfriend thought of that too-" Dick grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom where the most elegant and a bit revealing (but still chic) piece of clothing was spread on the bed.

"Grayson...." no matter how much she tried to deny her own instincts there was no way to stop herself from running fingers over the soft silky fabric and delighting in its sensation on her skin. She could only imagine how it would feel having that masterpiece hugging her body.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" she turned to face him, her eyes showing all the adoration of the gift. "But - I can't accept it. I mean - I'm sure it was--"

"Don't you dare saying it."

"But-"

"I bought it for you, you hear me? Because you deserve it, because I love you, because you're my woman and I’m your man." he grabbed her by the waist spinning her around and pulling to him. The fact that he was towering over her, holding her so firmly and giving her that man-like look silenced all her words of opposition. “Accept it, okay? Accept the fact that there’s me in your life now.”

“Right. The great, famous, handsome Dick Grayson the Wayne prodigy”

“Did you say handsome?” he smirked causing her to roll her eyes “seriously Y/N, I’m in your life. To stay. So the sooner you get used to unexpected gifts and surprises and being treated like a woman the better.”

“You still fucked up Valentine’s day.”

“You’ll be reminding me of that till the rest of my life, won’t you?”

“Of course.” She ginned playfully leaning to kiss him “I’m a woman. We collect such thing to use them as a potential argument in a quarrel.” She winked and this time it was him who rolled his eyes at her antics before silencing her with a proper make out session.

***

Clearly the dress was not enough for him.

Clearly taking a private Wayne jet and flying to NY was not enough for him.

He had to make a reservation at the most exquisite restaurant in the country. With the table in the secluded part of the spot, on the balcony with the perfect view on the night skyline, illuminated by the millions of little bright flickering lights.

And despite all that wonders all over them his eyes were focused solely on her.

From the way she looked in that dress (smoking hot, cause he knew what he was choosing after all), through the way her eyes were shining, hair flowing and cheeks flushing all the way to the fact that she finally allowed herself to relax and not overthinking all the stuff about expenses or being demanding.

Dream come true.

Living a fantasy when he grabbed her hand over the table and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles looking deep into her eyes.

Getting lost in their own private paradise when after the dinner they were just standing next to the railing, enjoying the peace and calmness, his arms around her waist, her back to his chest, not caring about problems, stuff to do or other people.

It was not often they could indulge and Dick was not going to miss the opportunity of being free for one night, able to plant little soft kisses on her neck, whispering soft words of love and feeling her body so close to him, while the a sign on the hotel room door clearly announced that guests requested privacy.

The silkiness of the sheets paled in comparison to the softness and delicacy of her skin and lips.

And the silence that was punctuated by her soft sighs and breathy words couldn't have been more perfect.

His woman.

Her man.

World could wait.

After all what could it do in a clash with a blooming love?

[shitideas]

melting | stu macher x reader

summary: reader can’t sleep, goes to stu’s house for a distraction. she/her pronouns used for reader.

warnings: nothing much i can think of, there’s one sex joke but it’s mostly just fluff.

y/n felt herself sinking into the cloud white mattress below her, her eyes fluttering shut to adjust to the dim lit room. she watched the darkness in her mind, hoping that she’d just stop thinking for a moment. her hands trailed up the wall next to her and found the light switch, darkening the room for the fifth time this night.

it was around 2:35 a.m, and y/n couldn’t get any sleep for the past three hours. she laid in silence, but her mind was loud. her thoughts were never ending and she easily got lost in them. she groaned, realising she was probably going to spend the rest of the night cursing to herself in her bed.

but then she got an idea.

the day before, y/n was telling her friend, stu macher, about her sleeping troubles. and stu being stu, he told her she could always come to his place if she couldn’t sleep. of course, y/n took the offer with a grain of salt, since nobody would want someone barging into their house in the middle of the night.

y/n would be lying if she said stu’s offer didn’t excite her, though.

he was always a friend, someone who always looked out for her and gave her company. but lately, y/n started noticing how stu’s baby blue eyes glimmered when the sun hit them, and how she was the only one who laughed at his childish jokes. she wondered to herself if this was weird, that she felt tingles in her stomach every time her friend looked at her a second longer, or every time his hand brushed against her’s in the school hallway. she didn’t want to admit to herself, but y/n really, really, liked stu macher.

so, ignoring the fact that stu’s offer was probably just him being nice, y/n got up from her bed and slipped into some warm clothes. she didn’t really think about what she was doing, she just let her feet take her away.

and soon enough, she was standing in front of stu macher’s house with her blanket in her left hand and a bag of popcorn she found in her pantry in her right hand. she knew his parents were out of town, he was having a party later this week. so she just rang the doorbell.

the lights in the hallway switched on, and here came macher in all his glory.

the glory being…a pair of shorts with hearts on them and a white tank top. along with very disheveled hair and a sour look on his face.

“what the hell are you doing here…it’s 3:00 a.m?”

“well, you did say i could come here if i had trouble sleeping again…”

he looked at her for a moment and then a grin appeared on his sleepy face. he groaned and opened the door so his friend could come in.

“honestly, i didn’t think you’d take that seriously..”

“yeah…i guess i wasn’t really thinking straight. i’m sorry i’ll leave..”, she said, rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her hand. what was she even thinking?

“no, i didn’t say you should leave! it’s nice to have some company..billy blew me off earlier so i was alone for the whole day, i wanted to call you actually but i didn’t want to—“

“billy blew you off?”, y/n smirked at him. he rolled his eyes at her with a smile.

“yeah i know you’re jealous.”

“of you? definitely.”, she joked. he raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

they headed to the living room, sitting down on the couch. stu put on a random tv channel and opened the bag of popcorn.

“so..why can’t you sleep?”

“you think i’d be here with you if i knew?”

“well, maybe i could help.”

she eyed him with a sarcastic grin on her face. her eyes landed on his heart-patterned shorts and she laughed.

“listen, these shorts are the best fashion piece i have and they are nothing to laugh at!”

she only laughed more, and he joined her.

stu loved y/n’s laugh, and the only thing he loved more than it was being the reason she laughed. he always noticed the dimples that appeared next to her eyes when she was happy, and he thought they were really cute.

y/n inched closer to stu and laid with her back against his chest. this wasn’t unusual to them, they often had movie nights where they would cuddle up together on the couch, it was purely platonic.

but this time, stu’s stomach twisted in a weird way while her back was pressed against him. his arms snaked around her waist and held her close, and she exhaled calmly.

“i guess i’m just really stressed. i have a lot on my mind..”

he nuzzled his head in her shoulder. her face heated up from his hot breath on her neck, but she didn’t say anything.

“you know i’m always here for you when you need something, that’s what friends are for.”, he said with a smirk.

she smiled and turned her head to look at him. his face was relaxed with a lazy grin hanging on his lips. when did he get so attractive?

his eyes flickered between her lips and her eyes, leaning in slowly until there were only inches in between them. she gave in and pressed her lips against his soft ones.

his heart was running wild and one of his hands came up to cup her face. their lips moved in perfect sync and they both melted into the kiss.

she pulled away and immediately had a huge smile plastered on her face, and so did he. he took her hands in his and intertwined their fingers, kissing her forehead. she laid her head against his chest again and closed her eyes. she felt relaxed.

“i guess i did help.”, he muttered and laughed softly. he let himself relax and he held her close.

they fell asleep like that, ignoring the fact that they’d have to talk about this in the morning. the only thing that mattered now was each other’s touch.

[hotchswifey]

thigh riding - rafael barba x reader smut

(okay, i wrote this 2 years ago, it's on my ao3 (same username), no judgements pls, i cba to rewrite it better or even reread it

WARNINGS: SMUT, THIGH RIDING

WORD COUNT: 1002)

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

When you woke up, it was only 2.43 a.m., according to the alarm clock. And yet - even at almost three in the morning - the lights outside the bedroom were still on. Which could only mean one thing: your boyfriend, who you loved dearly, had not. Stopped. Working. 

In your sleepy state, you decided to kill the man. Maybe not literally - but, yeah, maybe literally.

You sighed as you got out of bed, buttoning up Rafael’s shirt unevenly and rubbing your eyes, preparing for the harsh light of the apartment compared to the bedroom. 

Rafael looked up at you and smiled tiredly as you wandered into his ‘work space’, which was supposed to be a dining table, but you had sworn you had never seen anybody eat there. 

“Rafael, what the hell?” you shook your head, yawning, looking at the spread of documents over the glass table, and walking over to him. he was touching you immediately, pulling you down onto his lap, one arm around your waist, the other holding your thigh.

“I know, it’s late, but -” 

“It’s 3 a.m.,” you interrupted, laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. You heard his sigh above you, and you looked up at him, “Come to bed.” he looked at you with his exhausted green eyes, an empathetic expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa, this needs to be finished by tomorrow,” he explained, the hand holding your thigh, squeezing it, in some form of apology.

“Then finish it tomorrow,” you yawned into his shoulder.

“I can’t, cariño,” It wasn’t like he sounded happy about it, which you supposed made it better. You sighed but sat up (as best you could whilst still on Rafael’s lap) and looked over at the laptop, paperwork, documents, and files. 

“Okay, what are we doing?” you asked, deciding that if he was going to stay up, so were you.

“Hermosa, you should go back to bed -”

“So should you,” you said sternly, “Now, what are we doing?”

After a while of working, you had wound up in the seat opposite him, reading over the files, trying to find the one that Rafael needed - which was easier said than done, considering that the size of the pile of files was equivalent to a small child. You sighed, dropping the file and leaning back in your chair.

“I’m giving up,” You rubbed your face as you looked over at the clock - 4.34 a.m. You heard another sigh from the man across from you as he shut the laptop. You got up before, more or less, throwing yourself on the couch. Rafael joined you seconds later, to which you straddled his lap, your hands finding his suspenders to fiddle with.

It had been about a week of the same thing - Rafael would get home late and work until late. You knew that when this case was over, he would feel so guilty that he would absolutely spoil you, but that didn’t make this week easier.

What also didn’t make the week easier was that you had been so incredibly horny; you would have thought you’d burst by now. 

With that thought in mind, you started subtly grinding against Rafael’s thigh, which you just so happened to be sitting on (something that you had definitely not done on purpose). The friction against your clit, something you hadn’t felt in a week, felt so foreign and sound that your subtle grinding turned into noticeable grinding. 

Rafael’s hands found your hips underneath your shirt (which, of course, was actually his), not moving you, just gently holding you, and his lips found your neck, humming against you.

“Hermosa...” you hummed back in response, continuing your movements and moving yourself up and down his thigh.

The pressure in your lower belly snowballed, having not had an orgasm for - what had felt like - a year, but in reality, it was probably only eight days. You had begun to moan at some point, whines and whimpers leaving your lips as your hips moved faster and faster, desperate for some release.

“Rafael,” you whined, your hands gripping onto the suspenders he was wearing. His lips were still attached to your neck, nipping, kissing, and sucking at you.

“are you going to cum for me, Hermosa?” you nodded rapidly, and a whiney ‘uh huh’ fell from your mouth, which fell open as you screwed your eyes shut. A mantra of ‘please, please, Rafael’ could be heard as you sped up your movements, moving more harshly against his slacks now as you got really close.

“Be a good girl, cariño,” his voice was husky, his words and his hands gripping your hips, and the friction made you fall over the edge. Your legs seized up, but you continued moving, hoping to make it last as long as possible, ‘fuck’s and ‘Oh god’s fell from your lips, alongside Rafael’s name. Rafael continued to talk to you through your orgasm, switching to Spanish, “cum para mí, niña bonita”, knowing it would prolong your orgasm and make you throb.

“Eres tan bonita, Hermosa,” Your hips slowed as your orgasm came to an end, and you practically collapsed against him from exhaustion, “Tan bonita,” he said, kissing your forehead before standing up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms, around his neck.

He carried you to the bedroom, setting you gently onto the bed where you had been sleeping just hours before. He got on the other side, pulling your back towards him, spooning you. You felt his rigid member against your ass and tried to reach behind you to... help him, even in your tired state. However, Rafael intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling your body against his tighter and your intertwined hands to rest on your stomach.

“Don’t worry about it, cariño,” he mumbled against your neck, “Get some sleep.” You weren’t exactly happy about leaving your boyfriend unsatisfied, but you promised yourself that you would make up for it in the morning...