#jumping the rails fic

[ohboy-herewegoagain]

Spoilers but here we go

Ok so. I want to say that I did not look at leaks or anything and I still knew immediately that the sampo in the main story was not Actually Sampo. I figured it was sparkle but that wasn't my own theory, I saw some people say it and it made sense. I knew immediately when "he" didn't introduce himself w his full name, and then I had to pause the game because that's a weird thing to be able to deduce I fear.

But the companion quest?? Oh boy

Because my first thought when Sampo showed up there was "he seems much more... real", and the more he talked in that first scene the more I started to get my hopes up. Props to his VA for being able to have his Sampo voice (which already switches up tonally a lot) and the Sparkle Sampo voice, which sounds very different (if you're insane like me and know what the guy's voice sounds like intimately). In the companion mission he's a lot similar tonally to the Sampo on Jarilo, and I got really excited that we were gonna get actual Penacony Sampo

I had heard that Sampo and Sparkle don't get along, and I didn't guess the 'twist' until right before the end, so I was viewing Sampo's participation in the whole detective thing as a "I am playing along but Aeons I hate that woman". Identity theft is not a joke kids, but the Masked Fools as a general rule seem to disagree

Unrelated, but was anyone else a little disappointed by Black Swan? I got hyped about a semi-omnipresent wise.... i dont know, but she's a lot less formal than I thought. I'll get over it tho

And the conversation at the end... I'm seeing a lot of people assume that this memory (and therefore the dream we go through as the companion mission) is from before the Express lands on Jarilo-IX, but I really don't think so. Watch me get proven wrong, but I really do think theyre setting up another major conflict in Belobog, and Sampo's preparing himself to help out Belobog's citizens. I'm hoping that might be a change for a Sampo 5star, and I desperately want that.

and yes, I think we're gonna get a sampo 5star before a march 5star. She's the logo of the game, her secrets will not be spilled so easily.

I think there's gonna be a huge thing on Jarilo after Penacony finishes up, we're gonna return to the planet to lend a hand, and the threat will be big enough that Sampo is changing his role - his mask - to do something about it. Hopefully, you know, helpfully, but I'll take anything at this point

AND WE STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN A SAMPO TRAILER YET DAMNIT

[smallblueandloud]

at some point i get sleepy enough that i no longer trust my ability to edit as i write. unfortunately, i am usually still awake enough to want to keep writing. it is. somewhat of a problem. because if i'm not doing SOME amount of editing-as-i-write, the fic goes in strange directions that make no sense, kind of like a fractal curling in unpredictable ways

[thepandalion]

as someone who wrote and published both the actual process of writing is pretty similar, the main differences come in the way of like. publishing.

like sure you get editors who are professionals with degrees if you publish as a book but also like. the size and weight and color of pages. needing a cover design and blurbs for the back of it etc. a lot of publishing houses will take care of it for you (yknow. for more money) but if you know what you're doing you can do most of the actual work on your own?

then again I'm not a "professional" writer, of the genre that work for their publications and get paid regular wages to put words in a page - which is where a lot of bad writing happens, because you can't rush art. that's another reason why fanfics can be "better" than their professional counterparts - if I write a fanfic, and I get stuck mid-writing, I'm not gonna be fired for it (same for when you write and publish independently. I wrote exactly one book and it was mostly poetry and I didn't even do any marketing because that's actually one of the most expensive parts of publishing a book, at least so far as the local publishing scene is concerned)

like. it's a bit like video games, in the sense where you have indie developers change everyone's lives forever, or you can have a triple-a company make a game and it's popular enough to be sold on the Platform of the media (game stores&steam for games, much like bookstores or audiobooks or whatever with writing) but then everyone can agree it's nowhere near the level of dedication you get coding a product of art and love and passion by yourself

and games also have "editors"- both literal people on boards for the big game companies and like.. playtesters. people who make sure your game is a game. books have that too (I'm in a class that teaches editing books this semester and I lowkey hate it but also I happen to be really good at it which might and might not have to do with volunteering to beta read for my friends any time they write fanfic). and.. yeah. beta-read fanfic is a bit of that too. it's "why does he do that?" and "oh this is a good line" and "I think you need punctuation here but I could be wrong, what did you plan for this to mean, exactly?"

like. I write both books and fanfics and also like.. I use actual literary techniques I use in my book writing when I write fanfiction too- I have a character in a fanfic who is a siren, and I plan to have two different "routes" for the fic. in one of them, he speaks, thereby dooming his shipmates. in the other, any time he would have dialogue, I go around it with "he claimed we cannot do that" and the like, rather than direct quoting of the character, and in that universe everyone survives. that's something I learned in a professional writing class and I use it in fanfiction and I'm pretty sure that unless I specifically mention, in the notes of that fic, that that was an intentional artistic choice, nobody would notice. but that's fine, because I write this for my own benefit.

also, kinda lost the point I wanted to make with that example running a bit long, but like. as a person who both writes and edits, both of whom I do on both professional and fanfic levels, the difference is really not about that at all?

(I sit in class and argue about what word describes baby talking an adult, while the original chapter we're translating is in a language neither me nor the other student know, but I definitely side with our teacher who thinks explaining what you mean in a third language does nothing for editing a translation. that's a class about professional editing for translated literary works. the teacher occasionally remarks that my way of thinking and explaining reminds him a lot of the near-mythological editor he used to work with, and I think about how that might be because literary-editing is something I learned from my dad, who is also a professional editor, and who has also met your near-mythological editor before.

I also, at other times, sit my beloved friend on a call and we talk about fanfics they write and I don't notice until after the call ends that the way I talk when we have those fanfic-editing sessions is more similar to my dad with the independent authors he edits and publishes books with, rather than how I sound just talking fandom with my friends)

I’d like everyone to see this

{Credit to amalasrosa on Twitter}

[inseobts]

hello i apologize if this is a lot but i'd love to req a fic w/ zoro, law, ace, sanji where reader is normally mature but has cuteness aggression to animals, & when she started dating them, she does it to the boys too- suddenly clinging onto them while aggressively peppering their faces w/ kisses or squeezing their cheeks & just being so overly proud of them & showering them w/ compliments, it can be a common occurrence or it takes the boys by surprise lol you decide ^o^

also, thank u for ur service to the op community on tumblr 🫡 the quality & frequency of ur fics are impressive, i always look forward to ur updates♡

Clingy Combat Cuddles

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace (x fem!reader) + chopper (platonic but with zoro too)

a/n: they're kinda short because I didn't have many ideas, so I added chopper (ofc it's platonic tho + it has zoro in it!)

words count: around 0.4k - 0.6k each

tags: fluff, humor, cuteness aggression, established relationship (except for chopper ofc)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The deck of the Sunny is peaceful. The sun is warm. The sea is calm. A perfect day.

And Zoro has just fought a sea king.

You're watching from the side, arms crossed, lips pressed together, trying to stay cool and composed. Like always.

But Zoro walks past you, shirt still off, a little cut on his cheek, sword resting against his shoulder and he scowls at the deck like it personally offended him.

That’s it.

That’s the moment.

Your brain breaks.

You lunge at him without warning “Zoro!”

He turns his head, barely reacting in time before you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly so you can hang off him, nuzzling your face into the side of his jaw.

“YOU WERE SO COOL!! You chopped that thing like shing shing BAM! My big strong grumpy samurai baby!”

He stiffens “Oi! What the—”

You grab his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks together like dough.

“Look at this face! So serious! So brave! So slicey! UGH!!”

You start kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, even his frown line like you're on a mission.

Zoro is frozen. Arms hanging in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“…Did you hit your head?” he finally mutters.

“No!” you say, still kissing him “I just... I have a thing!”

“A thing?”

“Yes! I get aggressive when things are too cute or too cool or too brave! Like when Chopper does his little dance or when cats squish into boxes—and now you!”

He gives you a blank look “So… you're calling me cute?”

“No,” you say seriously “I’m calling you the cutest deadly thing I’ve ever seen and I want to eat your face in the most loving way possible.”

“...What.”

A few feet away, the rest of the crew is watching like it’s a new show.

Luffy’s grinning, sitting on the railing “He’s gonna explode.”

Usopp is pale “I’ve never seen her like that. That’s terrifying.”

Sanji’s cigarette hangs from his lip, forgotten “He doesn’t deserve that level of affection, but damn if I’m not jealous.”

Robin chuckles “So, this is what she’s like when the mask slips. Fascinating.”

Back to Zoro who now has you hanging off his front, kissing under his chin while mumbling things like “my battle bear” and “look at this terrifying angel”.

He finally puts a hand on your back, awkwardly “…You’re seriously not joking.”

“Nope,” you chirp, grinning like a lunatic “I’m so proud of you I might die. Look at you! Protecting everyone without hesitation. You’re amazing.”

He stares at you. Then down at his swords. Then at the deck.

“I just killed a sea king.”

“And it was HOT.”

Zoro groans and hides his face behind your shoulder.

Later on you’re sitting on the grass, your head in his lap, Zoro finally having managed to drag you somewhere quieter. Sort of.

He’s sharpening his swords, jaw set, pretending he’s not enjoying the way you keep sneaking kisses to his thigh.

“You done acting weird?”

“Nope,” you say, immediately reaching up to pinch his cheek again “You’re mine now. This is the price.”

Zoro sighs, annoyed.

But he doesn’t move your hand.

Instead, he glances down, and there’s a tiny hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“You better not do this in front of enemies.”

“No promises.”

“…Tch.”

You grin and tug him down for another forehead kiss.

And this time, he lets you.

── .✦ Sanji:

You’ve been good today. Calm. Collected. You kept your hands to yourself through breakfast, through a minor skirmish with Marines, and even through Sanji’s dramatic backflip dodge while holding two plates of soup.

But now… Now he’s plating dessert.

He hums a little as he swirls whipped cream into perfect little peaks.

His hair falls over his eye just a bit, and there's flour on his cheek.

You try. You really try.

But no... You’re losing it.

“Sanji—” you say, voice tight.

He turns with a warm smile “Yes, my love?”

You’re already marching toward him.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide with anticipation “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

You slam into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms wrapping tight around his middle as you squish your cheek against his chest.

“TOO PERFECT. TOO BEAUTIFUL. TOO TALENTED” you shout into his shirt.

Sanji laughs and drops the whipped cream just in time to catch you with both arms.

“Mon dieu, you’re doing it again. You’re going to kill me with affection.”

You grab his face “GOOD. DIE WITH LOVE.”

You start smothering him in kisses: forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, ears, rapid-fire smooches with increasing intensity.

Sanji nearly melts.

“Chérie, please, my heart can only take so much—”

“Look at you!” you cry, squeezing his cheeks “Your stupid little smile and your perfect food and your gentleman act! You’re SO ANNOYINGLY AMAZING!”

He practically purrs “Say that again.”

“You’re the most beautiful, talented, wonderful man in the world and I want to chew your stupid perfect face like a mochi bun.”

He gasps softly “Marry me.”

“I might do.”

“Then we have to arrange it all.”

Later that evening, you’re sitting peacefully on a chair, flipping through a book.

Sanji walks past you carrying a tray of tea and pauses.

He glances over his shoulder.

You glance up.

There’s flour on his sleeve.

His shirt is rolled up to the elbow.

He’s humming again.

You’re holding it together, but barely.

He smirks “You okay, mon amour?”

You stare.

He walks closer “You’re looking at me like I’m a chocolate cake with legs.”

You slam the book shut and launch up, but before you can pounce, he spreads his arms wide like an invitation.

“Come here, ma chérie. Ruin me.”

You leap into his embrace and he spins you around, laughing as you kiss his face over and over and over.

“You’re shameless!” you giggle.

“I’m in love,” he says dramatically “If your kisses were a drug, I’d be long dead.”

“I will squish your cheeks into dumplings and feed them to seagulls.”

“Please do.”

“You’re too pretty, it’s unfair.”

“I’ll ugly it up a little. Give me a day.”

“NO! I love your face, I’d wear it like a scarf if I could.”

He fake-swoons “Do it. Take it. I’m yours.”

“Is this… normal now?” Zoro mutters as he watches you pin Sanji against the wall of the kitchen, attacking him with affectionate nibbles and kisses while he happily takes it, hands holding your waist like he’s never been more at peace.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nami says, sipping her drink “They’re like this almost every day.”

Brook hums “Yohoho! True love is terrifying.”

Robin smiles behind her book “At least it’s harmless. Though, she did try to bite his nose once.”

“She did bite my nose,” Sanji calls out helpfully “It was magnificent.”

Zoro turns away, muttering, “Get a room.”

“We have a room!” Sanji replies “We’re just taking the scenic route!”

Hours later, you’re snuggled on the couch in the kitchen, your head on Sanji’s lap, while he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You good now, love?” he asks gently.

You sigh “I think I emptied the tank.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead “You can refill it tomorrow. I’ll be ready.”

You open one eye “You really don’t mind when I get like that?”

He smiles “Mon amour… I live for it.”

You smile too “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I hope I do,” he says “Over and over again.”

── .✦ Law:

Law is reviewing maps. His fingers tap against the table in a steady rhythm, eyes darting from note to note. His crew has just docked at a remote island, nothing dramatic today. Just calm preparation.

You're leaning against the wall, watching him.

He’s focused. Serious. In control.

You normally admire that about him.

But now?

It's making you suffer... a lot.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He mumbles something about currents and wind speeds. His lips move with precision. His fingers glide over the paper and...

... and that’s it.

You break.

“Law” you say, voice suspiciously innocent.

He hums without looking up “Mm?”

You walk up behind him slowly. Too slowly. His head lifts just slightly, eyes flicking toward you, narrowing.

“…What are you doing?” he asks flatly.

You don’t answer.

You leap onto him from behind.

“AHHH—”

He jolts forward a little as your arms wrap tight around his neck, your face burying in the side of his head.

“YOU’RE SO SMART. SO FOCUSED. I WANNA BITE YOUR BRAIN THROUGH YOUR SKULL—IN A LOVING WAY!”

“WHAT—?! Y/N—what are you—”

You pull back only to grab his face and start kissing it in a fury. Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Jaw. Temple. Eyelid. Repeat.

“SO! SMART! AND! SEXY! AND! SERIOUS!”

“Are you having some kind of episode?” Law says, voice strangled.

“Yes,” you gasp “It’s called cuteness aggression and you’re the disease.”

Minutes later, Law is leaning back in his desk chair, defeated, while you sit on his lap like an overjoyed little goblin, hands on his cheeks, staring at him lovingly.

“You’re not supposed to be like this” he mutters.

“Like what?” you blink innocently.

“You’re usually calm. Rational. Controlled.”

“I lied,” you say sweetly “That was just the bait phase. This is my final form.”

Law sighs and covers his eyes with one hand “I can’t do diagnostics like this.”

“Sure you can,” you whisper, kissing his nose again “You just need to adjust to your new life. With me on your lap. Forever.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “help”.

“Too late,” you say “I’ve chosen you.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re perfect. Look at this little line between your eyebrows. It’s my favorite. Can I kiss it?”

“No.”

You kiss it anyway.

He tries to work. He really does.

You're sitting nearby. Quiet. Reading. Acting like a normal person again.

Then Law says something offhanded, like, “The odds of ambush are low, but possible.”

You immediately drop the book.

You spin in your seat.

“Low but possible? SO. ARE. YOU. That’s you. You’re a low-chance rare-drop man. A mythic legendary boyfriend. I’M GOING TO KISS YOUR EARS.”

“Please do not kiss my ears.”

You pounce again “TOO LATE!”

You squeeze his face gently, tilt it like he’s a confused doll, and begin your assault.

He groans “This is emotional terrorism.”

“You love it.”

“…I don’t hate it.”

Later that night, you’re laying together in his quarters, the world quiet, your head on his chest. He’s stroking your back slowly, finally calm again.

“You’re weird” he murmurs.

“Yup.”

“I liked you better when you were pretending to be emotionally stable.”

You smile into his shirt “Liar.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters “I am.”

You lift your head just enough to look him in the eye “Do you want me to stop?”

He hesitates.

Then, softly “…No.”

You grin “Good. Because I was going to keep doing it anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your hair “Of course you were.”

── .✦ Ace:

Ace drops out of the sky like a meteor, lands on the deck with a dramatic crouch, and tosses a flaming Marine cannon overboard like it’s a beach ball.

Everyone cheers.

You’re already running toward him.

He stands up, beaming, shirt half open, flames still curling off his shoulders.

You throw your arms around him like a tackle.

“BABY!! YOU LIVING INCINERATOR! MY FLAMING HERO!!”

He laughs, wrapping you up tight “I missed you too, firecracker!”

You grab his cheeks.

“I am going to smooch you so hard your freckles become stars.”

“PLEASE DO.”

You slam kiss after kiss to his face, and he laughs through all of it “Wait—no, don’t stop, I’m just surprised! You’re usually the calm one!”

“That version of me is dead,” you say seriously “You dropkicked a cannon midair. I’m going feral.”

“Finally!” he cheers “Join me in chaos!!”

You bite his cheek lightly.

He gasps “I’m in love.”

The rest of the crew watches you both clinging to each other like human Velcro, nuzzling and giggling and attacking each other with affection.

“It’s like watching two puppies roll down a hill” Marco mutters.

Thatch wipes a tear “Beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Ace is now spinning you in a circle while you repeatedly yell, “YOU’RE SO STUPIDLY HOT, IT MAKES ME ANGRY.”

“YEAH?! GOOD! I WANNA BE HOT FOR YOU FOREVER!”

“STOP SMILING LIKE THAT YOU HANDSOME PIECE OF SUNSHINE!”

“I CAN’T, YOU’RE TOO CUTE WHEN YOU YELL.”

Later, Ace plops down beside you, sweaty and soot-streaked after another skirmish. He opens his arms wide.

“Do your thing” he says.

You blink “What thing?”

He grins “You know. That thing. The... 'aggressive cuddles and I-want-to-chew-your-face' thing.”

“Ohhh, you want the full package?”

“Yes please.”

You tackle him to the ground instantly.

“MY BEAUTIFUL DUMB IDIOT. MY FLAMING HOT DORK. MY BRAVE EXPLOSION HUSBAND.”

You kiss his forehead.

Then both cheeks.

Then his jaw.

Then you pause.

“You smell like smoke and sea salt.”

“Romantic, huh?”

“You smell like danger and I love it.”

“I love you.”

You pause again “Ew. That was corny.”

“You just licked my face like a cat two minutes ago.”

“Fair.”

At night, lying in a hammock together, he holds you tight against his chest. The wind is quiet. The sea gentle.

He brushes his fingers through your hair.

“You really don’t get embarrassed?” he whispers.

“Not when it comes to you” you murmur back.

“Even when you call me a ‘beautiful flaming dumbass’ in public?”

“Especially then.”

He grins into your hair.

“I like this side of you” he says.

You look up “You mean the clingy one that kisses your nose in front of your whole crew?”

“No,” he replies softly “The one that doesn’t hold back.”

You smile.

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

Ace kisses your forehead.

“Good. Because I’d set the world on fire before I let you go.”

── .✦ Chopper (+ Zoro):

“Okay, next patient,” Chopper says proudly, flipping his clipboard “Let’s see Y/N, it’s just your check-up!”

You sit on the exam table swinging your legs “Yup! I’m ready, Doctor Tiny Genius.”

“I told you not to call me that” he mutters, hiding his flustered face behind the clipboard.

You lean down and whisper, “But you are a tiny genius.”

“Stop iiiit,” he whines, blushing, “I’m just doing my job!”

You watch him waddle around the room with his little doctor coat and stethoscope.

He’s so smol. So serious. So determined.

You can’t hold it.

“Chopper,” you whisper “Come closer.”

He looks up, confused “Huh? Why?”

“Come. Closer.”

“Are you okay—?”

You snatch him right off the ground and CRADLE him in your arms.

“TOO CUTE. TOO KIND. TOO FLUFFY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M GONNA EXPLODE.”

“W-WHA—?!” Chopper’s face is glowing red “W-WAIT! I—I’m your doctor—!”

You rub your cheek against his fuzzy face “You are my doctor AND my emotional support reindeer. Let me love you.”

“You’re squishing my antlers—!”

“They are precious and I would die for them.”

Chopper flails, but doesn’t really try to escape. He’s used to this. You do this at least once a week.

“I’m gonna tell Zoro!” he threatens, kicking gently.

“Zoro loves it. He thinks you’re cute too.”

Zoro is leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.

You cradling Chopper like a plush toy while Chopper pretends to be mad but actually leaning into your touch.

Zoro sighs... and smile.

“You’re enabling her” Chopper says accusingly.

Zoro shrugs “You are adorable.”

“Not you too!” Chopper squeaks.

You smirk “See? I told you.”

Zoro walks over and gently ruffles Chopper’s hat “Deal with it, doc. She only does this to her favorite people.”

Chopper freezes. Blinks. Looks between you and Zoro.

“R-Really?”

You nod and boop his nose “Only the elite get aggressively snuggled.”

He goes completely red, squeaks, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Okay... but just for five more seconds.”

You squeeze him tighter “Ten.”

Later, as you finally let Chopper go, he adjusts his little coat and clears his throat.

“I’m still your doctor” he says sternly.

“Of course, Doctor Cutie.”

“Don’t call me that! …I mean, you can, but—wait, no, don’t make it a thing!”

Zoro pats his head on the way out “Too late.”

You lean over and whisper to Zoro “I’m gonna dress him up as a little surgeon plush next time.”

Zoro smirks “I’ll hold him down.”

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 [ 3 ]

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Game of Cat and Mouse. Bucky being stubborn as shit. Summary: Things have turned awkward. You and Bucky hasn't spoken with each other for a few days now. But is the much needed space making things better or worse? A/N: Sorry this took so long lmao. My boy got sick and needed my undivided attention my poor baby but he's better now thank god. A/N: I honestly don't know how to top-up the previous parts but shit, I need them to connect to a deeper level first before jumping into full on smut okay? maybe in the next part. The song sums up the whole fic to be honest lol.

You’d become a master at memorizing Bucky’s schedule, knowing exactly when to leave your apartment to avoid any chance of running into him. But lately, it seemed like Bucky had developed the same strategy, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his presence around the building had become increasingly scarce. It was almost as if he was avoiding you instead.

Today, though, you decided to switch things up by taking the stairs. Sure, it was three flights down, but anything was better than the awkward tension of waiting for the elevator and possibly bumping into him. You clung to the faint hope that the odds would work in your favor, that the stairwell would be empty and uneventful.

But as you descended, the sound of footsteps echoed from below, growing louder with every step. Your stomach flipped, an irrational hope bubbling up before you could quash it. Maybe it’s not him, you thought, though deep down, you already knew better.

Rounding the corner, your heart sank and raced all at once. There he was—Bucky, just a few steps below you, pausing mid-step with his hand gripping the railing. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by something guarded, his jaw tightening as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh,” you breathed, your voice softer than you’d intended. “Hi.”

His lips pressed into a tight line before he offered a stiff nod. “Hey,” he replied, his voice low, carefully neutral.

You stared at each other for a beat too long, the air between you thick with unsaid words. He looked almost annoyed—not at you, but at the situation, as if running into you had thrown him off his game. And maybe it had, because for the first time, it wasn’t you avoiding him. It was him avoiding you.

“So…taking the stairs now?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed a hint of tension, a wall firmly in place.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “Yeah, um… decided to switch things up. Exercise, you know.”

He nodded once, his grip tightening briefly on the railing before loosening again. “Right. Exercise.”

Another awkward silence settled over you, the sound of distant voices from above faintly filling the void. You shifted on the step, clutching the railing a little too tightly, your mind scrambling for something to say—something that wouldn’t make things worse. But before you could speak, Bucky cleared his throat and took a step to the side, making way for you to pass.

“Alright,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’ll… see you around.”

“Yeah,” you replied quietly, hesitating for a moment before you stepped past him. “See you.”

As you descended the stairs, your pulse pounded in your ears, each step feeling heavier than the last. You risked a glance back, only to find him already climbing upward, his shoulders tense, his head down. The image lingered in your mind, the sight of him retreating, the weight of his silence pressing down on you like a stone.

You reached the bottom landing, gripping the railing as you let out a slow breath. Part of you wanted to turn around, to call after him. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, tangled up with your own doubts and fears.

If he didn’t want to talk, you wouldn’t force him. But that didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to bear.

× × × ×

You arrived at work, your mood sour and your thoughts tangled up in that awkward encounter with Bucky on the stairs. The usual morning chatter of the office greeted you. Trying to focus, you went to your desk, arranging your things in a futile attempt to bring some order to your day.

But then you heard them—Trish and Amy, huddled at the corner near the coffee machine, voices low but still clear enough to reach you.

“I just don’t get it,” Trish was saying. “It’s been days, and there’s still no new uploads from SergeantBarnes. Maybe he’s got a new project or something?”

“Or maybe he’s seeing someone?” Amy added with a conspiratorial tone. “I mean, think about it. He’s been off the grid lately. That’s got ‘new fling’ written all over it.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to block out their conversation. It was the last thing you wanted to hear today, and every word just stoked the frustration simmering inside you. You took a deep breath, attempting to rein in your annoyance, but they just kept going, their words grating at you.

“Honestly, it’s like he’s gone quiet for no reason,” Trish went on, sounding genuinely disappointed. “What am I supposed to watch while I’m waiting for Dan to finish his gaming marathons?”

“Is that all you two talk about?”

You couldn’t help it; something inside you snapped. Before you knew it, you turned around, your voice sharper than you intended.

Both Trish and Amy blinked in surprise, their expressions shifting from confusion to embarrassment. You continued, unable to stop yourself now that you’d started. 

“You both have partners, for crying out loud. Do you really need to spend every second gossiping about some guy online?”

They exchanged glances, clearly taken aback. “Jeez, sorry,” Trish muttered, looking both defensive and a little hurt. “We didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It is when we’re supposed to be working,” you replied, more irritated than you’d intended. “Maybe keep the fan talk out of the office? Or, I don’t know, find a hobby that doesn’t involve obsessing over someone else’s life?”

Silence fell as they looked at you, wide-eyed and a bit stunned. Realizing how harsh you’d sounded, you took a step back, immediately feeling a pang of regret. But the frustration from this morning was still fresh, and you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize just yet. Instead, you turned back to your desk, jaw clenched, hoping the tension in the office would dissipate as the day went on.

At the end of your shift, the weight of the day felt heavier than usual. The tension with Bucky hung over you like a cloud, lingering in your thoughts despite your best efforts to shake it off. It shouldn’t even be this deep—so why were you so affected? It’s just a casual thing, you reasoned with yourself. We’re barely even… whatever this is.

Yet, no matter how many times you told yourself to move on, the thought of Bucky—the way he’d looked at you, the frustration and hurt in his eyes—gnawed at you. You found yourself mentally bargaining, trying to find some middle ground, some way to keep your guard up but let him in a little, too. Maybe if I didn’t overthink it… if I just let it be whatever it is, I wouldn’t feel this way.

As you gathered your things, ready to head out, Trish and Amy approached with hesitant smiles. 

“Hey, you okay?” Trish asked gently, her earlier excitement replaced with genuine concern.

You managed a small, apologetic smile. 

“I’m so sorry about this morning,” you said, glancing between them. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you both. Just… a rough few days.”

They nodded in understanding, exchanging a quick look before Trish turned back to you. 

“No worries, but hey, if there’s something bothering you… maybe we can help? What do you say to grabbing some dinner with us? We can talk or not talk about it?”

Amy’s face lit up as she chimed in. “Yeah! You shouldn’t have to stew over whatever it is alone. Come on, let us treat you to some comfort food.”

Their unexpected warmth and support tugged at something in you, and you felt the weight on your shoulders ease just a little. 

With a small smile, you nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice. Thanks, guys.”

They grinned, and without missing a beat, each linked an arm through yours on either side, leading you toward the door as if they were determined to help you shake off every ounce of stress you’d been carrying. As you walked together, their chatter filled the air, and you let yourself settle into the easy companionship, hoping that maybe tonight would give you the reset you needed.

× × × ×

Across town, Bucky was pouring everything he had into the punching bag in front of him, each hit landing with a force that reverberated through his whole body. The gym was nearly empty, giving him the space to unload, each punch fueled by the frustration and confusion that had been building inside him for days. His jaw was clenched, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he moved, his muscles tense and coiled with pent-up energy. The sharp sound of his fists colliding with the bag echoed through the room, filling the silence as he worked to dump every complicated thought he’d been grappling with.

He had no reason to be as affected as he was, but the whole situation with you had hit him harder than he expected. He’d thought he could brush it off, ignore the strange ache that crept up every time he thought about your last conversation, but it stuck with him.

After a final, powerful jab, Bucky took a step back, breathing heavily as he let his hands drop to his sides. His mind was still a storm of thoughts, the adrenaline from his workout doing little to clear his head.

When he wasn’t working off steam in the gym, Bucky’s day-to-day was far less chaotic than most people would assume. As an automotive engineer at Ford, he spent hours each day under the hood, designing, testing, and refining high-performance engines. His focus had always been on innovation, on precision, on building something that could withstand any test. It was work he loved—real work, with real meaning, where every bolt and every part had a purpose.

The other job, his work in front of the camera, was different. It was an outlet, a separate side of himself he’d chosen to explore. People saw it for what it was on the surface, but it never felt like the core of who he was. You, however, had somehow managed to blur the lines between the two worlds in a way that left him unsteady. And for the first time, he found himself wondering if keeping his other job had been the right one.

The memory of your face—surprised, hesitant, almost wounded—came rushing back to him, making his chest tighten with something more complicated than he was prepared to face. 

Why did it matter so much? She’s just my neighbor, he thought. 

He sighed, pressing his gloved fists to his forehead as he tried to shake off the ache that had settled there. For now, all he could do was keep hitting, keep moving, hoping that maybe, at some point, the weight of it would finally start to lighten.

Later that evening, Bucky found himself in his kitchen, mindlessly stirring a pot on the stove. The rhythmic motion and steady bubbling should have been enough to distract him, but his thoughts kept drifting—inevitably back to you.

He remembered the first time you’d crossed paths in the building, how you’d barely glanced at him as you carried a pile of boxes through the hallway. It had amused him, how determined you were to act unaffected, especially after that sudden recognition flashed in your eyes. That little double-take when you realized who he was had been priceless. He’d leaned into that reaction ever since, throwing little teases and comments just to see your reaction, to see the way your cheeks would flush or how your gaze would flit away, only to sneak back.

There was something refreshing about the way you seemed to care so little about the reputation attached to him—so different from others he’d met. And maybe that was why he couldn’t resist teasing you, why he went out of his way to bump into you, to throw in a bit of banter just to see if he could make you smile or throw him a comeback.

But he never expected it to go beyond that. He didn’t expect that somewhere along the line, those little interactions would turn into something he looked forward to. And now, somehow, it had gotten tangled up with feelings he wasn’t prepared to deal with.

Bucky stirred the pot a little too vigorously, and a few drops splashed over the edge, hissing as they hit the stovetop. His hand stilled as he sighed, feeling the frustration bubble up all over again. This is my fault, he thought, jaw clenching slightly. I shouldn’t have come onto her too strong.

He hadn’t realized he was stirring so absentmindedly until the pot suddenly began to overflow, the liquid spilling over the edge and sizzling against the hot burner. With a muttered curse, he quickly grabbed a towel, lifting the pot off the heat and wiping up the mess, the sharp smell of burnt food pulling him out of his thoughts.

As he turned off the stove, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would take to make things right with you.

× × × ×

After a long day, you found yourself standing outside Bucky’s door, nerves twisting in your stomach. Just apologize, you told yourself, trying to gather the courage. Get it over with and clear the air. But as you stared at the door, words rehearsed in your mind, you found yourself hesitating. You’d been standing there so long that you’d lost track of time, each second stretching as you cycled through a list of possible things to say, none of which seemed quite right.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock when a light, feminine laugh floated through the door, catching you off guard. You froze, your hand mid-air, as the laughter was followed by a familiar deep chuckle. Bucky’s.

"Alright, alright,” you heard him say, sounding more relaxed than you’d ever heard him with you. There was a warmth in his voice that sent a pang through your chest, the kind that came from comfort, closeness.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you didn’t miss me,” the woman teased, her tone playful and affectionate. “I know you. You’re never this nice to anyone else.”

You swallowed, something tightening in your chest as you listened.

"Alright, guilty," Bucky’s voice softened, almost shy. "Guess you’ve always been a bit of a soft spot."

Your heart twisted, her words and his response echoing in your mind, each line pulling you deeper into a sense of unease. Soft spot? Nice to her in a way he wasn’t with anyone else?

Your mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, and your cheeks heated as your throat tightened. You felt silly for standing there now, silly for even considering coming over to apologize. What were am I doing? Of course he's with someone.

Just then, you heard footsteps approaching the door, and panic flared. You turned, bolting toward your own apartment, fumbling with your keys as you heard Bucky’s door open behind you. Just as you managed to close your door, you caught a glimpse of him glancing down the hall, his gaze lingering on your door with a curious look.

Bucky’s sister, Becca, caught him glancing toward your door, she raised an eyebrow, nudging him with a knowing smile. 

“What’s up with you?” she asked, a touch of teasing in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

Bucky gave his head a quick shake, trying to dismiss the worry that had settled there. 

“Yeah, yeah… it’s nothing. Just thought I saw something,” he replied, though his gaze lingered a moment longer on your door before he finally turned back to Becca.

She didn’t look convinced. Folding her arms, she tilted her head, giving him a look that only an older sister could manage—the kind that saw right through any attempt to hide. 

“Are you sure? You’ve seemed a little off tonight, Bucky. I don’t think it’s nothing.”

Bucky held up his hands defensively, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips as he tried to brush her off. 

“Nothing! Really, it’s nothing. Now go home, seriously,” he insisted, ushering her toward the elevator with a slight push.

Becca rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it for a second. 

“Right. Nothing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she gave him a knowing look. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, a bit more forcefully this time, though he couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Go on before you start reading my palm or something.”

Becca laughed, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” she said as she stepped into the elevator, though she gave him one last pointed look as the doors began to close. “But, Bucky? maybe figure out what you want before you drive yourself crazy over it.”

With that, the doors shut, leaving Bucky standing in the quiet hallway, he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he glanced back toward your door.

Later that night, Bucky found himself slumped on his couch, phone in hand as he stared at the search bar. He let out a huff, rolling his eyes at himself as he typed: signs you’re into someone.

The results loaded quickly, and he clicked the first article, skimming the list with a mixture of skepticism and, admittedly, nervous anticipation.

Sign #1: You can’t stop thinking about them. 

He paused, frowning at the screen. “Okay, that’s… kind of obvious,” he muttered, mentally ticking off that box with a begrudging sigh.

Sign #2: You go out of your way to see them.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“That one’s just stupid. I mean, we live in the same building. I don’t go out of my—” He paused, remembering all the times he’d “accidentally” found himself in the hallway when you’d get back from work, or when he’d gone to the laundry room at oddly specific times. “Okay, fine. Maybe sometimes.”

He kept scrolling, and the list grew more absurd—do you get jealous when they talk about other people? Do you go out of your way to impress them? By the end of it, he’d mentally checked off nearly every box, his expression morphing into a blend of reluctant acceptance and amusement.

Bucky sighed, tossing his phone onto the couch beside him. 

“What am I, sixteen?” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. Here he was, a grown man, looking up articles about crushes and ticking off boxes like he needed some random website to validate what he already knew.

But as he sat there, he realized it wasn’t the checklist itself—it was the fact that, for the first time in a long time, he felt like this. Like he actually cared about where things went, enough to drive him to ridiculous measures for some kind of clarity.

With a sigh, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the weight of realization settling in. Bucky stared at the ceiling for a few more moments, letting out a deep sigh before grabbing his phone again and pulling up his contacts. Scrolling down to “Steve,” he hesitated for a beat before tapping the call button.

It rang twice before his friend picked up with a cheerful, “Yellow?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. “Hey, punk.”

“Bucky!” Steve’s voice was light, clearly amused. “What’s up? It’s been a while since you called just to say ‘hi.’”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I… actually had a question. Kind of. For… a friend.”

“Oh, a ‘friend,’ huh? Sure, I’m listening.” Steve chuckled on the other end, and Bucky could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Bucky cleared his throat, leaning back into the couch. 

“Right. So, uh, hypothetically speaking… how do you know if, you know, if you’re into someone? Like, in a way that’s… not just friendly?” His words tumbled out, each one feeling more absurd than the last.

“Your ‘friend’ wants to know how to tell if they’ve got a crush, huh? Didn’t realize we were back in high school, Buck.” Steve snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement.

Bucky sighed, feeling his face heat up. “Look, if you’re gonna be annoying, I’ll just—”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Steve said quickly, though he was still chuckling. “Okay, seriously. Well… I guess if your ‘friend’ can’t stop thinking about her, or if he finds himself looking for reasons to be around her, that’s usually a sign. Or if he’s, you know, protective, feels that weird jealousy thing… you know how it goes.”

Bucky was silent for a second, swallowing as he mentally ticked off each of Steve’s points. “Right. Yeah. Hypothetically, that makes sense,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“And,” Steve continued, now sounding suspiciously entertained, “if your ‘friend’ is calling up his actual best friend in the middle of the night to figure it out… well, that might be a bit of a giveaway, too.”

Bucky groaned, falling back into the couch with a scowl. “Alright, alright, I get it. Thanks, Steve.”

But Steve wasn’t finished. “Hey, Buck? If you’re asking for yourself—which we both know you are—maybe just tell her how you feel. You’re not as subtle as you think, and if she’s worth this much thought… she’s probably worth the risk, too.”

Bucky was quiet, swallowing the mix of nerves and excitement that Steve’s words stirred up. “…Yeah. Thanks, pal.”

× × × × 

The next morning, you were practically sprinting down the hall, head ducked and heart racing, when you heard him call out, “Hey! Y/N—wait up!”

You didn’t dare look back, only quickened your steps, praying he’d let it go. But his footsteps grew closer, and just as you reached the lobby, you felt a hand gently graze your shoulder.

With an awkward yelp, you dodged sideways, almost colliding with a potted plant as you called over your shoulder, “Sorry, Bucky—gotta go! Late for work!” 

You bolted through the doors, ignoring the bewildered look he gave you as you disappeared into the morning rush.

You turned off your phone completely, just to avoid the constant notifications. His messages had started out simple—Hey, can we talk?—but quickly escalated. Each ding had become a taunt, a reminder that, even though he seemed persistent, there was no other reason to face him now. You left your phone off for nearly a full day, and by the time you turned it back on, there were over a dozen missed calls and messages waiting for you, each one a pinch of guilt you tried to ignore.

And just when you thought you’d mastered the art of dodging, fate had other plans.

Untik one bleary-eyed morning, as you rushed out of your apartment with a coffee in one hand and your bag slipping off the other shoulder, you came face-to-face with Bucky at the end of the hallway. There was no escape route this time; he was standing right in your path, his arms folded and an expression somewhere between concerned and utterly frustrated.

You tried to step to the left, but he mirrored you, stepping right into your path.

You shifted right, and he stepped left, blocking you again.

You both paused, sizing each other up. Then, in unison, you both moved left, only to collide shoulders. You exhaled in frustration, darting to the right, but he sidestepped with you again.

“Bucky, please,” you groaned, your patience wearing thin, feeling the minutes tick closer to being late. “I have to go.”

His eyes softened just a little, but he didn’t budge. “Not until you stop running away from me. Can we just talk?”

You scowled, giving him one last sidestep to the left, only to be blocked again. With a frustrated sigh, you finally did the only thing left: you placed both hands on his chest and gave him a firm push, slipping past him before he could react.

“I’m late,” you muttered, not looking back as you all but jogged down the hallway, leaving Bucky in the wake of your retreat, his gaze following you with an expression that told you he wasn’t giving up. Hell no.

× × × ×

Until one day, when you were in the middle of work, a receptionist from the ground floor called up to tell you that someone wanted to see you. Curiosity and irritation flared as you made your way down, a frown already forming on your face. And the second you spotted him—standing in the lobby, arms crossed, looking as frustrated as you’d ever seen him—you felt your heart drop.

You turned on your heel, muttering to yourself, “Unbelievable…” But before you could make it far, he called out.

“Y/N!” His voice echoed across the lobby, and you turned back with a glare.

“What the hell are you doing here, Bucky?” you hissed, stepping closer so your conversation stayed private, though part of you just wanted to get him out of the building before anyone noticed.

His jaw was set, his gaze determined. “Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Nothing should have happened between us. Let’s just… leave it at that.”

He frowned, visibly taken aback by your bluntness. 

“How can you say that?” he demanded, his voice low but intense.

Your throat tightened, but you held your ground. 

“I need to get back to work,” you said, not meeting his eyes. You turned to leave, but his voice stopped you once again.

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “I’ll wait right here until you clock out if that’s what it takes. We’re going to talk, Y/N.”

You groaned, feeling a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Bucky, go home.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he took a seat in one of the lobby chairs, crossing his arms and settling in as if he were prepared to stay all night. Despite the receptionist’s raised eyebrows and curious glances from passing employees, Bucky stayed put, a stubborn expression on his face that only grew more determined with each hour that passed.

Throughout the afternoon, you tried to focus on your work, but every so often, curiosity and frustration got the better of you. By mid-afternoon, you found yourself messaging the receptionist, unable to resist asking, “Is he still there?”

The reply was quick and confirmed what you feared: “He hasn’t moved. Just sitting there, staring at his phone.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt despite yourself. “Could you… maybe offer him a drink or something? He’s not going to leave, is he?”

The receptionist’s response was amused. “Already tried. Said he’s fine, but he appreciates it.”

The next day, he was there again, seated in the same chair, his arms crossed and his expression set like stone. This time, he came prepared—there was coffee waiting on the front desk with your name on it. When Trish and Amy teased you about the mysterious admirer, you convinced them to sneak out the back exit with you after work.

The day after that, he stepped it up. Roses. A beautiful arrangement of vibrant blooms appeared on your desk, the receptionist delivering them with a knowing smile. Your coworkers were relentless, whispering about your "secret boyfriend" and giving you sly grins every time they passed your desk. Again, you dodged them and Bucky, slipping out the back exit before he could catch you.

But no matter how much you avoided him, Bucky didn’t give up. Each morning, he was there, as stubborn as a mule—or more appropriately, as stubborn as Bucky Barnes. His persistence was unwavering, his resolve impossible to break.

Finally, on the fourth day, the receptionist herself came up to your floor, pulling you aside with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone friendly but firm, “you’ve got to talk to him.”

Your stomach twisted as you glanced at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She arched a brow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. 

“Your man. He’s down there again. Same chair, same determined look. And he’s got flowers. Again.” She folded her arms, her expression softening slightly. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but he’s been here every day for the past four days. He’s polite, patient, doesn’t bother anyone, but... it’s obvious he’s waiting for you.”

Your cheeks burned, and you felt the weight of her words settle over you. “He’s not my—”

“Y/N.” She cut you off, giving you a pointed look. “Just talk to him. If for no other reason than to put him out of his misery. I’ve worked here for five years, and I’ve never seen anyone that persistent. Trust me, most guys wouldn’t even wait an hour.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s... complicated.”

The receptionist chuckled, shaking her head. “Aren’t they all? But the way he’s sitting down there, looking like a kicked puppy one minute and a stubborn bulldog the next? That’s not complicated. That’s someone who cares.” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Don’t let something good slip away just because it’s messy.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing in the hallway, your heart thundering in your chest. You peeked toward the elevator, debating whether you could sneak out through the back again. But deep down, you knew she was right.

Bucky was waiting. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your things, bracing yourself for what was bound to be another conversation you weren’t sure you were ready for.

× × × ×

You stepped into the lobby, your pulse quickened. There he was, sitting exactly where he’d planted himself hours ago, looking a little rumpled, maybe even tired, but every bit as determined as ever. His gaze lifted the moment you appeared, and for a second, his whole expression softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. Relief, warmth, maybe even something more—it was all there, clear as day, and somehow it made this moment feel… different.

Bucky rose, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he approached. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, letting the silence between you speak. The noise of the lobby faded away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped in a quiet, invisible bubble.

You forced yourself to stay steady, trying to keep the upper hand. Arms crossed, you raised an eyebrow at him. “So… you camped out here all day?”

His smile turned a little sheepish, but there was no hint of apology in his tone. 

“Told you I’d wait. Figured you’d come down eventually.” He took a half-step closer, his voice soft and warm, laced with that casual mischief that made it impossible not to smile.

You rolled your eyes, biting back the smile creeping up. “Could’ve just… I don’t know, texted? Called? Like a normal person?”

He tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to make your heart trip over itself. 

“I tried that, remember? Didn’t seem to work on you.” He shrugged, completely unfazed. “So I figured I’d go old-school. Sometimes persistence pays off.”

“Persistence,” you muttered, pretending to sound exasperated. “You mean showing up uninvited?”

Before Bucky could answer, the unmistakable chatter of Trish and Amy echoed from the elevator behind you. Your heart jumped into your throat. Oh no. Absolutely not.

Without thinking, you stepped closer to Bucky, practically pressing yourself against him as you yanked your bag off your shoulder and lifted it up like a makeshift shield to block both of your faces.

Bucky froze, his body stiffening at your sudden proximity, but his expression quickly shifted to pure amusement. His lips twitched as he looked down at you, your bag wobbling precariously on the side of your faces.

“Um… what are you doing?” he whispered, his breath brushing against your forehead.

“Shhh!” you hissed, tilting the bag slightly to peek over it. Trish and Amy were slowly walking toward the front doors, their voices growing louder. “Just… don’t move. They can’t see me with you.”

“And why’s that?” Bucky asked, his voice low and teasing, though he didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned down a fraction, his face hovering closer to yours. “Afraid they’ll get the wrong idea?”

“No, I’m afraid they’ll get the right idea,” you snapped under your breath, glaring up at him.

His eyes sparkled, and his grin widened. “Oh, really? And what idea would that be, sweetheart?”

“Bucky,” you warned, the heat rising in your cheeks as you tilted your bag higher, completely covering his smirking face.

But Bucky didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he seemed more amused, his gaze dropping to your face like you were the most fascinating thing he laid eyes upon. His voice softened, the teasing edge replaced by something warmer. 

“You know, you’re really bad at hiding.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

He chuckled, his chest vibrating lightly against you. “Not gonna lie, this might be the highlight of my day. You, using me as a human shield. Very flattering.”

“Oh shut up,” you whispered, but your voice wavered, betraying the way your pulse was racing.

Trish and Amy finally passed by, oblivious to the two of you tucked against the corner. You let out a breath of relief, slowly lowering your bag. But before you could step away, you realized how close you were—Bucky’s face mere inches from yours, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

His voice dropped, soft and almost reverent. “You can hide from them all you want. But you can’t keep hiding from me, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare back at him, caught in the pull of his gaze. The noise of the lobby faded again, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

“I told you,” he murmured, his tone steady but impossibly gentle. “I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

You tried to ignore the thrill of butterflies that his words sparked. “Like I said, there’s nothing to talk about, Bucky. We should just keep our distance from each other okay?”

He took a steadying breath, his brows drawing together, his voice losing that playful edge. 

“How can you just decide that?” he asked, his tone almost pleading. “You don’t even know…”

You shifted, heart pounding. “Because I know you’re already seeing someone else. I don’t need to be another complication in your life.”

He blinked, visibly taken aback. And then, just as quickly, his face softened, an incredulous, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. 

“Seeing someone else? Where did you get that idea?”

Heat crept up your cheeks as you tried to hold your ground. “I—I heard her, okay? When I was at your door the other day. The laughing, the… the way you sounded with her…” You bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“Oh.” 

He let out another breathy laugh, shaking his head as if you’d just told him the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. 

“Y/N… that wasn’t a date. She’s not—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of exasperation and utter amusement. “She’s my sister.”

Your mouth dropped open, the realization hitting you like a freight train. “… what?”

“Yeah, my sister, Becca. She was just in town visiting.” He gave you a look of pure, amused disbelief, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “God, you really thought I was seeing someone?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to think?” you muttered, cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

Bucky’s smile softened, and he took another step closer, until there was hardly any space between you. 

“You should’ve just asked,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Instead of. . . I don’t know? Avoiding me like the plague?”

You tried to summon a retort, but your heart was racing, your thoughts jumbled by his proximity and the way his gaze seemed to hold you captive.

Bucky chuckled, the sound soft and full of affection as he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

“All this because of a misunderstanding?” His voice was low, his hand lingering, fingers brushing against your cheek. “I’ve been going crazy trying to figure out why you’re dead set on ignoring me.”

You managed to look up at him, heart pounding as you searched his eyes, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“So… you’re not seeing anyone?”

“There’s only one person I want to see,” he murmured, his hand dropping from your face and now brushing against your arm. “And I thought I’m making that pretty clear?”

Your mouth opened and closed then opened again, “Okay. . .”

“Okay. . .” Bucky chuckles and steps back, “Shall we. . . restart?”

A flicker of surprise crossed your face, and a warmth bloomed in your chest at his invitation. You’d spent so many days tangled in your own assumptions, convinced things between you were over before they even began, and here he was, offering an olive branch with that disarming smile.

“Restart?” you echoed, your heart skipping a beat as you met his gaze.

He nodded, his expression softening even more. “Yeah.”

You gave him a small, hesitant smile, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Yeah… I think I’d like that.”

Bucky’s grin widened, relief and something warmer sparking in his eyes. “Great. Let’s go home?”

“U-Uh, sure.”

× × × ×

The streets were alive with the hum of the city—cars rushing by, distant chatter from groups of people, and the occasional burst of laughter from passersby. But despite the liveliness around you, there was an unspoken tension in the air.

You noticed the way women’s heads turned as you passed, their gazes lingering a little too long on Bucky. It didn’t help that he looked effortlessly handsome, his casual outfit somehow drawing more attention than it should have. A part of you wanted to roll your eyes, but another part couldn’t blame them.

Bucky didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just didn’t care. His focus remained on you, his stride matching yours, though there was a slight hesitation in his step.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured, glancing up at him as you adjusted the bouquet in your arms.

He let out a soft hum, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Just thinking,” he said, his voice low.

“About?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly before he finally spoke. “About that night.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you instinctively looked away, focusing on the ground ahead of you. 

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both unease and curiosity.

“We have to talk about it eventually,” he replied, his tone steady but gentle. “I don’t like leaving things unresolved, Y/N.”

When you finally reached the corner of your block, you slowed your steps. Bucky noticed, his own pace matching yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

The two of you moved to the quieter steps of your building, sitting side by side. The soft hum of the city buzzed around you, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another world entirely. Your bag rested on your lap, your face soft under the streetlights, but the tension in the air was anything but light.

Bucky broke the silence first, his hands clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while,” he started, his voice low but steady. “That night… I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself.”

You blinked, turning to him in surprise. “Mad at yourself?”

He nodded, his jaw clenching for a moment before he continued. “Yeah. I thought I’d scared you off, made you feel like I wasn’t taking you seriously. The last thing I ever wanted was for you to think I was just… using you.”

Your fingers tightened around the bouquet, the ache in his voice tugging at something deep in your chest. 

“Bucky, it wasn’t just about you,” you admitted quietly. “It was me, too. I panicked. I wasn’t sure if I could handle…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Handle what your life looks like.”

His head tilted slightly, his blue eyes softening as he looked at you. “Because of my job,” he said gently, not as a question, but a statement.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. 

“It’s hard, Bucky. I hear my coworkers talking about you—about SergeantBarnes—all the time. They don’t know it’s you, but it’s constant. They treat you like… like you’re this fantasy, this unattainable thing. And it’s not just them. It’s everyone who sees you online, who only knows that part of you.”

He stayed silent, letting your words settle, his gaze never leaving your face.

“And then there’s me,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly. “I don’t want to be another name on a list or someone who gets overshadowed by… by the version of you that everyone else thinks they know.”

Bucky leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his head to look at you. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“I get that,” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “And I hate that you feel that way. But Y/N, you’re not another name on a list to me. You’re not someone who gets lost in all of that… noise.”

You held his gaze, the weight of his words settling in your chest. His patience today, his persistence—it wasn’t the action of someone who saw you as fleeting or inconsequential. It was the effort of someone who cared, deeply.

Bucky sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’ve kept my work and personal life separate for a reason. It’s always been easier to compartmentalize, to keep everything from bleeding into each other. But now? Now I realize that I didn’t think about what would happen if someone—if you—became significant to me.”

Your chest tightened, his words chipping away at the insecurities you’d been holding onto. “Bucky…”

Bucky turned toward you fully, his blue eyes locking onto yours, raw and unguarded in a way that made your heart ache. 

“If I told you that I want to spend every day and night with you—not just because I like you, but because you’ve become the one constant person I can’t stop thinking about. If I told you that you’re my sanity when the world feels like chaos, my laughter, my desire, my comfort, my day and my night, my cold and heat—If I told you that, would you think that translates to only wanting you as ‘one of my girls’?”

Your breath caught, the raw honesty in his words shaking you. “Bucky…”

“I know my job makes things messy,” he continued, his voice quieter now, like he was almost ashamed. “But I get it—I get why it’s hard for you. I hate that it’s something that puts distance between us.”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d do whatever it takes to make this easier for you.”

Your throat tightened, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to speak. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change who you are for me,” you said softly.

“It’s not about changing who I am,” he replied, shaking his head. “It’s about making sure I don’t lose something.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, his hands fidgeting as he leaned back against the step, staring up at the night sky for a moment before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’m gonna be really honest with you, Y/N,” he started, his voice low, hesitant. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about the… other stuff yet. It’s not as simple as just walking away. I’ve got contracts, commitments—it’s not something I can just drop overnight.”

Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, appreciating his honesty even as the knot in your stomach grew. 

"And that means... what exactly?" you asked, even though deep down, you already knew.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he let out an exasperated chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Do you really want me to say it? Do I have to say it?”

You didn’t flinch this time, your voice cutting through the tension with unsettling clarity. “It means you have to keep having sex with other porn stars… right?”

Bucky winced at the bluntness of your question, the words hitting him harder than he expected. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with what felt like shame.

You sighed heavily, pressing the heel of your hand against your forehead as you shut your eyes tightly. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a knot you couldn’t untie. Out of all the men that could catch your interest, why did it have to be him?

“You are the most complicated guy I’ve ever met,” you said, letting out a short, humorless laugh that carried no amusement, only exhaustion. “Oh my gosh, I honestly don’t even know—” You paused, your voice faltering as you opened your eyes and looked at him, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “How would you make it easier for me, Bucky? How?”

Bucky swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his lips parted, his gaze flickering over your face. He was clearly thinking, his mind working furiously to find a solution, any solution.

"Do you… not like the idea of me with other women?" he asked tentatively, his tone cautious.

You snorted, narrowing your eyes at him. "That’s a stupid question, Bucky."

"Just say yes or no," he pressed, his gaze intent.

"Yes, I do not like the idea," you snapped, your tone sharp with irritation. "But I can’t prevent it, can I?"

Bucky took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he stared at you. Then, his next words came out carefully, almost testing the waters. 

“What if. . .you do it with me?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief flooding your expression as his suggestion hung in the air. 

Slowly, a startled laugh escaped your lips. 

"Are you joking? You’re out of your mind if you think I’d showcase my body to the world like that!"

"I’m not saying you have to," he said quickly, his hands raising defensively. "I just thought… maybe it’d feel different. Less like I’m with strangers. Maybe it’d feel like I’m with you."

"Bucky," you said, your voice heavy with disbelief, "that’s not a solution. That’s… whatever that is, it’s insane."

His shoulders sagged slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the roots in frustration. 

“I know it sounds insane,” he muttered, his tone rough. “But I’m trying to find a way to make this work. To make this easier for you.”

You shook your head, letting out a long breath. You stared at Bucky, your frustration and disbelief simmering just beneath the surface. 

“Me… doing that with you? Just so I can handle this better?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know. But I hate the thought of you being upset every time I have to perform. And yeah, maybe it’s a selfish thought, but if it were with you… at least it’d feel real. Like it means something.”

You bit your lip, his words tugging at something inside you. But the idea of putting yourself in front of a camera, of having your body displayed for the world—it made your stomach churn. "Bucky, that’s not… I don’t know if I could ever do that. It’s not me. It’s not what I want people to see of me."

He nodded slowly, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "I get that," he said softly. "But if it’s the only way to make this easier for you… I just thought—"

"You thought what?" you interrupted, cutting him off. "That I’d suddenly be okay with the idea of putting my body out there for millions of people to see? That I’d somehow be okay sharing you like that, even if it’s just on-screen?"

Bucky flinched at your tone, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want you to share me. I don’t want any of this to be a problem for us. But you don’t trust that I’m serious about you, and I’m just trying to find a way to show you."

You let out a shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. He wasn’t wrong—it was hard to trust, hard to believe that someone with a job like his could be serious about anyone, let alone you. But his suggestion… it wasn’t the answer. Was it?

For a moment, you considered something that had never crossed your mind before. The idea was ludicrous, insane even, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts like a whisper. Your lips parted hesitantly, the words tasting strange on your tongue as you said them.

"If I agreed… hypothetically," you started, your voice faltering slightly, "would I… would I have to show my face?"

Bucky blinked, taken aback by your question. For a moment, his expression softened, a mix of relief and regret washing over his face. 

“It’s only a suggestion. . . you don’t have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable." he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I just… I threw it out there because I’m desperate to find a way to make this work.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. 

“I don’t know. But the thought of you with someone else… it makes me sick. And now I feel like I’m stuck, like there’s no winning in this situation.”

Bucky studied you for a long moment, his blue eyes filled with understanding. You could see him weighing his next words carefully, as if they could tip the balance in either direction.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft yet steady. “You know what? Forget I said any of that,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, almost sheepish smile. “It’s too much for tonight. For both of us.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. “Bucky—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “I’m serious. I don’t want you to feel like this has to be some big, impossible decision right now. We’re both exhausted from this conversation, and I don’t want to mess it up any more than I already have.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in your chest. He was giving you an out, a way to step back from the overwhelming weight of it all, and you weren’t sure whether to thank him or cry.

“How about this,” Bucky said, leaning forward slightly, his tone softer now. “Let’s just… hit pause for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll do something normal. Something simple. Let’s go on a date—no heavy talks, no complicated feelings. Just us.”

Your eyes searched his, finding nothing but sincerity in his gaze. It wasn’t an easy fix, and it wouldn’t erase the doubts or the fears that still lingered between you. But it was a step forward, a way to reconnect without the weight of everything else pressing down on you both.

“A date?” you asked, your lips twitching into a hesitant smile.

“Yeah,” he said, his smile growing a little. “Somewhere fun, somewhere we can just… breathe. No drama, no cameras, just you and me.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “You make it sound so easy.”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he shrugged, a teasing glint in his eye. “That’s because it can be. We don’t have to solve everything at once, Y/N. We just have to take it one step at a time.”

You nodded slowly, feeling the tension in your chest loosen ever so slightly. 

“Alright,”you said, your voice steadying. “Tomorrow, we’ll go on a date.”

Bucky’s smile was warm and genuine, and for a moment, the weight of the evening lifted. 

"Awesome," he said, standing up and offering you his hand. "Now, let me walk you up. Can’t let you carry bag on your own."

You laughed softly, taking his hand as he helped you to your feet. As the two of you walked back into your building, the night air seemed a little lighter. Although at the back of your thought, a question lingers. Should you agree to his suggestion?

tags: @bohoooitsme @barnescamboy @strangefunthornqueen @mayusenpai666 @seven0714

@rabbitrabbit12321 @alexsl-universe @xunquish-blog @hzdhrtss @winchestert101

@alyana-luvs-u @itsbuckysworld @eternalwinters @am-3-thyst @vaneyvfs

@mochiclouds @yesiamthatwierd @skywalker0809 @19jammmy @quinquinquincy

@morganlolitta @openup-yourmind @urbanleftovers @fallout-girl219 @awenita

@red22wolf @lostboys1987girl @tenmaabnesti @elloredef @daddylorianisastateofmind

@leighta @formulas-bitch @waywardhunter95 @cereal6666 @gg-trini

@ohdrey89 @theboysfanficmaker @clintsupremacy @whatislovevavy @okeypoteto

@lilynotdilly @byunleedy @mrsalexstan @jamesbarneswife @chiseplushie

@antiartemis @imagoddessinmystories @let-it-sn0o0ow @mostlymarvelgirl @crdgn

[jaeminvore]

room(hate) | L.JN (M) — part II

SYNOPSIS: all you wanted was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital. All you needed was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital, but even that was considered a luxury in these trying times. A luxury blatantly stolen by your roommate, Jeno Lee, who seemed to have an endless line of bodies to fuck preventing you from getting at least an hour of shut eye. It was annoying. It was disrupting and you seriously hoped that Jeno's dick falls off one day.

PART II SUMMARY: so, you’ve slept with your roommate in spite of everything. What happens now?

PART I | PART II (you are here)

[AO3 link]

GENRE: roommate au, non-idol au, slice of life-ish, unrequited hate, roommates with benefits, domesticity, porn with plot, fluff, comedy, crack treated seriously.

WORD COUNT: 31.1K out of 50K

NOTE: ever love someone so much that you pumped out a 50K long two-parter fic? yeah me neither LMAO anyways… this has been a loooong long time coming and I’m just really glad I’ve seen through the end of this fic that has been in the works for more than a year now? My sincerest thanks goes to those who have been patiently waiting bc I wasn’t patient and wanted to finish this so bad but life had suddenly gotten in the way that it took so much of my time 😭 anywho, you might want to grab a snack and/or drink bc this one is loooong long! Lemme know what you think <3 likes and reblogs are much appreciated !

If you're tuning in from part I of room(hate), the long awaited continuation is here! And if you're new and seeing this, I highly suggest jumping to part I to have more context! It's a great read, entertaining even, I promise 🤞🏼

CONTENT WARNINGS: egregious use of the em dash and the comma, pregnancy mentioned (but no one is pregnant lol), feelings realization. sooo so much feelings it’s kinda dramatic really. Miscommunication (haha-funny kind). Jeno being the sweetest guy it’ll give you cavities I think. Idiot being idiots but they’re in love, so. [smut warnings underneath the cut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

SMUT WARNINGS: (some of the sex scenes aren't as graphic btw) car sex, mild exhibitionism, Jeno has a thing for glasses, face-fucking, couch sex, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex (PLEASE practice safe-sex unlike these two), MC cries during sex at some point (overwhelmed).

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken." — The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis

"There are times when my longing for you overwhelms me, so often I can think of you only with teeth clenched." — Franz Kafka

"I look out the window longingly. I was never this type. All along, I had it together" ... "It's annoying. Barely had any sleep but. Just pretending to be strong" — Crazy by Jinnie.

IV.

“Call it what you want it, darling.”

You were operating under a time crunch, but God forbid you’d pass this up.

“What happened to sex being a one-time thing?”

“Really? You say this now after the many times we’ve fucked so far?”

Jeno wrinkled his nose. “Could you be less crass?”

You rolled your eyes, held his face and kissed him, barely giving him any time to adjust the driver’s seat.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, but when you were cursed with the knowledge of having what was essentially the human form of sexual relief residing just across your room—yeah, one could already tell where this was going.

Likewise, Jeno was just as willing as you were in seeking out for any form of release which really didn’t help your case at all. There were a handful of alternatives out there, let’s say, Pilates, when taking into consideration the numerous benefits your roommate had achieved from the consistent gym visits to dead-lift double (maybe even triple?) his body weight. But was it really worth the couple bucks you’d be spending—much less the extra energy and travel time—if you signed up for classes when you could get the same results from getting railed until you forgot what set you off at work?

Probably not.

Definitely not.

Fool you once, shame on him. Fool you twice, shame on you. Fool you thrice… well, you weren't a stranger to being shamed for the bad decisions you’ve made thus far. Fucking around with the same guy your complaints revolved around was a different ballpark, however, and the thought should have humbled you. Stopped you, even.

Really, it should have.

Though it became crystal clear that your intentions made a gradual shift when ‘this is the last time I’m letting you fuck me’ had gotten demoted to merely a thing you’d say to cancel out your conscious choice of falling into Jeno’s arms again. Defending yourself was as useless as a broken umbrella doing fuck all but shield you from the pelts of rain, and it was especially useless when getting pelted by Jeno’s thick load was just another Tuesday for you.

There was no point in it now when you’re about to ride the guy in his own car parked in the most secluded part of the hospital’s parking lot.

“Fuck,” you hissed, lowering yourself onto his cock. “You’re too fucking big, I swear. Dick so big and for what?” you said like it was the biggest inconvenience you’ve ever encountered in your life.

“You say this every time,” Jeno laughed, breathless, and pleased by the looks of it before his face scrunched up the moment the meat of your ass pressed down onto his thighs, moaning quietly at the tight squeeze of your pussy. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”

With his obscenely large size? It’s a miracle you hadn’t split into two through a fucked mitosis process, actually. “Do you really want an anatomy lesson until you go soft?” you ground out. “Or would you rather get fucked before I clock into work?”

“Mm, I think you know what I want.”

He was looking up at you with a deceptively sweet smile. Leering, if anything, with pupils blown out so wide that they were as dark as the cup of coffee that waited for you every morning without fail.

Jeno’s eyes were one thing. Usually soft and contrasting the hard angles that make up the handsome face haunting both your dreams and more so your reality. There were no traces of the gentleness you were acquainted with as his heavy gaze raked over you, trying to peel away the soft cotton covering your skin with it alone. The mean grip he had on your hips was enough to tell you how badly he wanted this.

And you knew it was bad when you were actually looking forward to whatever Jeno’s cooking up in the more depraved parts of his brain.

A creature of habit is what you were. Staying true to a routine you’ve aged with was what you preferred, and sticking close to what you knew had less consequences to deal with in the long run. Change to you had always been a daunting idea right from when you moved to this city for your father’s job at the tender age of six and up until you shared a living space with anyone that wasn’t Mark Lee. So it really came as a shock that adapting to this arrangement with Jeno had been quick and painless.

Then again, you supposed the benefits greatly outweighed the very grievance of it being with Jeno helped. Shutting him up has been the easiest it’s ever been, for example, especially when you took the reins. Sometimes.

“That was our best one yet, don’t you think?” Jeno said once both of you recovered enough brain cells to hold an actual conversation. Unsurprisingly, he fared better than you did, insane stamina and all, though the second you picked up the barest smugness leaking from what Jeno probably thought was an unassuming sentence, you sobered up in record speed and almost smashed your skulls together when sitting up straight to scowl.

“Is it because we’re in your car? ‘That enough to stroke your ego?”

Jeno raised a manicured eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who jumped me?”

Well, yes, but being reminded of your oversight was so unnecessary.

“Get out of me,” you took a deep breath and let it out, “right now.”

Although he pulled out without any follow up witticism, you did clock the satisfied stretch of his lips, Jeno chuckling when you gave his arm a light swat. You tried not to react much towards the emptiness as he carefully removed the filled condom, tied it up and threw it into the small waste bin stuck in the driver’s side’s door pocket. Cleaning the interior of his car sounded like a great bonding activity.

Just like how the joint effort of cleaning each other up in silence was. Wet wipes swiping here and there, you even made Jeno swear up and down that no marks were left on visible places, but it’s whatever. With how things were lined up today, everyone will be too busy with their own agenda instead of debating whether or not one of you got some that morning.

That’s what you hoped for at least. You never knew with your coworkers, honestly. They were like vultures when it came to gossip, so you’ll have to rely on your few lucky stars that they won't smell it on you.

Then again, would it really be that big of a deal? People changed their minds—like, all the time, and it wasn’t like treason was being committed canoodling with the person you had once hailed as the villain of your story. Sex was simply another thing added to normalcy, going at it like horny teenagers on nights where you should have been catching up on sleep. Which was like, most nights—if you had to be truthful—that condoms had to be strictly implemented despite your consistent ingestion of birth control. Anything to prevent unwanted miracles.

(Jeno’s hand that held the whiteboard eraser immediately shot out to shamelessly erase the word ‘condoms’ from the grocery staples list.

“I may be a slut, but I take safety very seriously,” Jeno insisted, pouting when you still wouldn’t budge, hip checking him to re-write ‘condoms’. “I get tested, like, every week. I’m as clean as a celibate!”

“Hearing ‘celibate’ coming out of your mouth just sounds so wrong.” But you’d still give him his flowers for exercising caution for both his and your health. You smacked his hand away. Half for another attempt at erasing the word ‘condoms’ and half for reminding you of his wide pool of sexual partners. “We’re still stocking up on condoms.”

‘Lube’ was also scrawled underneath. Better safe than sorry and you would like to avoid any sexual mishaps if you could).

Jeno never asked questions. Never became a point of conversation when you had unanimously claimed one side of his bed for yourself. When it was where you ended up on a frequent basis, you supposed it was way past being questioned, but accepted, that you were beginning to forget what your own bedroom looked like besides your closet and desk. Like the more you veered away from the comfort of your own room, the more you got to find out just what made Jeno tick and how much of a freak he actually was.

You’ve come to find out that prescription glasses in particular could rile him up. Tried and tested by accident.

When you had taken your attention away from your iPad and honed it towards the direction of Jeno's sharp intake of breath, you found him staring at you from where he stood underneath the awning, pink-cheeked and mouth slightly agape with his windbreaker half-way off. A disheveled version of him; a frequent result of coming back from a two to three-hour long gym session, minus the blatant ogling. Seriously, why was he looking at you like that?

You tilted your head in question, eye-glasses sliding down your nose. Jeno made a wounded noise and stumbled his way closer, almost tripping over his discarded shoes.

You narrowed your eyes at the urgency in his movements. “…what is it?”

“Glasses,” Jeno said in a way like it was punched out of him, “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Oh, these?” Your knuckle pushed them back up into place and for some reason, this caused Jeno to bump into the side table with an aborted curse. “Probably because I don’t wear them often? I wear contacts, but they get uncomfortable for a while. I could get my eyes fixed with LASIK—or something else invasive, but I have this irrational fear of getting it so… I’m stuck with these.” You explained, ending it on a coy note as you fluttered your eyelashes for shits and giggles then followed up with: “I think I look cute. Don’t you think so?”

Oh, Jeno for sure thought so. More than he should, actually, or else he wouldn’t have ended up jerking off right in front of your face. On top of you, rather.

They were the very last thing you’d think would grant you an exclusive straight out of a porno, but this was Jeno. A kink that involved you wearing glasses was probably just the tip of the iceberg concerning Jeno’s lore, and that wasn’t to say that the absolute desperation to make himself cum was any less hot. To add on that sentiment, you have never expected being used—somewhat—would be this enticing either.

Or maybe it was just Jeno and the way he made everything he did ten times more appealing for what it actually was. As one does when you’re that hot, unfortunately.

Either way, Jeno managed to tote around this artful carefulness with him even in this unhingedly horny and desperate state, making sure you were comfortable and that he wasn’t crushing you with his weight. He sat on his haunches, muscular thighs on either side of your torso to keep himself upright while tugging on his cock. And to further solidify the perfect picture of desperation he posed for, he had his dri-fit shirt rucked up high enough to sit under his armpits while biting down onto the bottom hem, tampering down most of the noises he made and exposing the milky, dewy flushed skin.

That quickly became useless the moment you thought to help him out a little; nails lightly scratching down the outrageous rack of abs just to feel him twitch underneath the pads of your fingers. The whine that followed was add bonus. Flicking your tongue against the underside of his cockhead to hear his guttural moan and letting the cloth fall from his wet mouth, his legs squeezing you until the shallow rutting of his cock in and out of the heat past your parted lips made him cum. Some of it pooling onto your tongue and the rest of it lewdly marking your face in white.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “you got cum on my glasses.”

“‘M sorry,” Jeno murmured, hastily reaching for the box of tissues. It was easier to breathe, now that he was off your chest and in between your thighs. Jeno in general made it hard to breathe sometimes, but he also knew how to ease you from it. “Sorry. I’ll clean them for you.”

You hummed your appreciation, one hand running through his hair that’s due for a cut soon and smiling when Jeno pushed himself higher to kiss you. Like he couldn’t help himself with how urgent it felt that you could taste the salty muskiness of his release, your tongue sliding against his.

The thought of getting off yourself was forgotten in the midst of the torrid kissing you were subjected to, completely content with being smothered by Jeno until he offered. Wanting to return the favor, and that’s another thing you’ve come to find out about him. Jeno liked giving more than the average male would. A giver and always eager to please. At least that’s what you thought, or it was simply a Jeno-exclusive thing.

Then again, were you really going to complain when that’s all Jeno wanted to do?

Evident in the way he clambered over you, pushing you into the plush confines of the couch that had seen way too many things to the point you had conned Jeno into getting it steamed cleaned at his expense. Thick fingers worked their magic, sinking deep into your sopping cunt, the squelching sounds becoming nastier than the last as Jeno swallowed every noise you made with each kiss.

“You’re crazy,” you said, breathless and staring in wonder when Jeno seemed just as blissed out as you felt, your thumb gently swiping over his lips. You were so deep in the troughs of post-orgasmic bliss that you didn’t have the heart to push him off of you. “Insane.”

Jeno laughed, soft and sweet, his eyes turning into gentle crescent moons, pressing a kiss to the pad of your thumb. “Thirty percent crazy to your seventy percent. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kissed you again. “You make me crazy.”

That’s fair. You were aware of your own bouts of insanity when in a rush and you supposed the frantic pitter-pat of your heart was one of the handful of quirks that came with it.

“...right?”

You blinked back into present time, finding yourself still perched on his lap, but a lot more decent compared to when you were getting your morning fill of everything Jeno and completely missing what he just said.

“Say that again?”

Jeno’s pout didn’t last for long—though long enough that you fought the urge to coo—gazing up at you with big, almost wet eyes.

“This,” he stressed, gesturing half-heartedly between you, “It’s good, right?”

The sex? Well, yes, though ‘good’ was severely underselling it. Jeno knew that. You knew that. What you didn’t know was why he was bringing up the unspoken arrangement you decidedly have now and questioning whether it was adequate or not.

“Good as in..?” you trailed off, leaving an open for him to latch on and speak.

Jeno's lips flattened into a thin line with his gaze straying to the side.

You let out a puff of breath. Cute. “C’mon, Jen,” you said almost in a crooning manner, tipping his chin up with a brush of your fingers so he would look at you. “Work with me here.”

“Good as in—I wouldn’t mind if we become exclusive,” Jeno said, shy and making an effort to keep the eye-contact, but as soon as the pink dusted the tips of his ears, the faded graphic on your T-shirt became the most interesting thing to him.

Exclusive fuck buddies? Not a terrible proposition, you might say, and it wasn’t like you had people lined up like he did, so that left you with very limited options. Option being limited to the lone man acting as your seat and currently trying his very best to not look too eager while you internally weighed your options.

One less thing to be dealt with if you’d say ‘yes’ would be the loud noises that had disturbed your night. Instead, the noises would be coming from both you and Jeno which was already the reality anyway as he hadn’t brought anyone home for a while now. Why would he when he had you? So the answer was pretty obvious, you told him, which granted you an oddly ecstatic Jeno; capturing your lips in a quick but searing kiss the moment you made your decision explicit before you rushed out of the car when you caught sight of the time on your smart watch.

The TL;DR version of it was, ever since the coffee table incident, things have been relatively smooth sailing. It’s been an easy ride with Jeno. The roommate thing, sex and even more sex.

It had gotten to the point where your peers could tell that something was up, too.

Nothing too drastic to write home about. At least that was what you thought as the change was evident enough to some, where passing comments—mostly directed towards how you appeared more well-rested than what they were used to seeing—also took a slot in what to expect from days to come post getting dicked down by your roommate. How your mood had drastically improved that smiling had been at its easiest no matter the grueling working conditions, which was completely mutually exclusive to you sleeping like a baby, by the way.

That’s what you liked to tell yourself. You know, like the awful liar you were.

“You’re also glowing,” Yizhuo added more to the pile of observations while flipping through a chart, then froze to stare at you in alarm. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No. I am not with child—don’t you have to play nurse elsewhere?”

She scanned the chart with a hum. “Not until one-thirty.”

“No need to be defensive. We all know having children is the last thing on your mind right now,” Renjun chuckled, slowly spinning on an office chair he had claimed for the day. He stopped, narrowing his eyes towards your direction in appraisal and a smidge teasing. “But for real though, you’re looking good lately. Less tense, Less stressed—no gray hair in sight—and like Yizhuo said, glowing.” He shrugged. “It’s just nice to see our headstrong nurse finally living her life outside of the hospital.”

You winced. “You make it sound like I’m a workaholic.”

“Who says you aren’t?” Renjun smiled sweetly—disarmingly, because he knew the advantage of having a pretty face. You’re less likely to get pissed off with what left his mouth whenever he did that. “What’s changed?”

You lift a shoulder to shrug. “I dunno. I’m getting laid on the regular—yeah, surprising. I know—I’ve been catching up on sleep. Life’s… good right now.”

As good as it could be, and it’s more than you could ask for, really.

“You’re ‘getting laid on the regular’?” A new voice chimed in. “I just saw pigs fly.”

Renjun threw his head back from a belly-deep laugh as a vein pulsed on your temple.

“Can I have one day—one day—without you pissing me off?”

“No can do.” There was a smile on the newcomer's face. A smile equal parts charming and grating as the current bane of your existence sauntered over with the edge of his clipboard resting on one of his broad shoulders. “So who’s the poor piece of meat stuck with you until you spit ‘em out?”

That caught your coworkers’ attention again.

“Is it someone we know?” Yizhuo pushed, with Renjun honing in as both leaned in closer, expectant.

Eh… kind of? Jeno had been an on-and-off issue you had whinged about when someone cared enough to listen. There’s this distant image of him you’ve placed in their heads that would, for the most part, make it easier for them to sympathize why his promiscuous nature was such a problem for you. And they did, considering it wasn’t a difficult choice when they were also your friends outside of work.

Coming clean with the damning fact that you slept with the very same man that had made a portion of your life hell was completely off the table. You’d never hear the end of it and public shaming wasn’t really your thing.

Sungchan, to your dismay, was a little different, delighted that you kept your mouth shut rather than providing anyone the inside scoop of a train wreck you called your life.

If there was one nurse that could take your Nurse of The Month spot, it was fellow nurse Sungchan “Channie” Jung. With impeccable bedside manner and an endearing megawatt smile, he was considered an angel and was notoriously loved by many patients who had had their hand in luck being tended by him. It wouldn’t even be a surprise if there were only good things said about him on RateMyNurses.com.

That’s what public opinion hailed him as, but to you, he was simply Sungchan—a nurse a year your junior who had somehow managed to weld himself to your side back when he was still an intern; your personal annoyance, and a hundred times worse when it came to sticking his nose into someone else’s business for his entertainment.

You rolled your eyes when he closed the distance and slung a toned arm around your shoulders with a smile far too bright for anyone to have at this time of day.

“Mind if I steal her for a bit?"

“You slept with Jeno, didn’t you?”

“What?” You exclaimed, almost breathless as you sputtered a laugh that was neither convincing to you nor to your current interrogator. Still, you might as well try and hope that God was on your side today. “In what world would I fuck the guy I don’t like?”

Sungchan, who had been pacing back-and-forth with a gait that distantly reminded you of a harrowed father coming to terms that his only daughter got knocked up, stopped dead in his tracks right in front of you, staring you down with doe eyes lacking their usual friendly sheen.

You grew more uncomfortable the longer he looked at you. “What.”

His a-hundred-and-eighty-something tall self leaned in to get a good whiff of you, face screwing up in distaste. “You reek of sex,” he supplied before you could even ask what the fuck was that about. “You smell like a man. You smell like Jeno—did you guys fuck before clocking in?”

“Quit it! What the hell.” You pushed his face away. You were sure the scrubs that you washed all to hell would mask the evidence of your morning rendezvous. “How do you even know what Jeno smells like?” You were pretty sure Jeno wasn’t the only man who douses himself in Ferrari Light Essence whenever he leaves for an errand or two.

Sungchan arched an eyebrow. “So you did, then.”

“Answer the question.”

“I’ve been to your apartment,” Sungchan answered with a shrug, which directly translated to ‘I’ve snooped around. You can’t fool me. I know all’. “He’s used up, like, half of his Ferrari Light Essence. The one on his drawers,” he explained with an almost detached cadence, like he was simply talking about today’s weather.

You frowned. “That’s an invasion of privacy,” you hissed, but Sungchan barely looked chastised by that, something your eye twitched at. “And it could be one of the residents too. Not just him.”

“Yeah, no—see, it’s basic deduction,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world that even an idiot could get on with the program far above their pay grade. “I ruled out you sleeping with our superiors—or any of the hospital staff involved. You have too much self-respect for that. Not sure where it ends if your roommate’s involved, but he’s your safest bet, and you wouldn’t have to see Jeno at work either. So, less of a distraction. Also, there’s always this weird tension between you and him. Every time Jeno walks into the room, you either look like you want to kill or jump him, and we both know which choice you’ve made.”

You puffed out your cheeks with a forlorn pout. Damn it. He’s good.

“I don’t know, Chenle could be an exception,” you argued anyway, maybe a smidge petulant and just because it was fact a year or two ago when you were taken by his easy-going attitude and his penchant for taking care of anyone around him. Until you realized the trauma surgeon-in-training was better off as a friend when he couldn’t pick up any of your hints. You still thought he had killer cheekbones, though, and there was no shame in ogling every one in a while.

“You forgot to mention her inactive dating-slash-sex life.”

You shout in surprise as you whirled around to face the top bunk closest to you, a hand over your frantically beating heart.

“Oh,” Sungchan looked far too pleased with that addition. “and that too.”

“Were you just there the entire time?” you asked, almost hysterical. “Why are you here?”

“This is the on-call room.” Chenle’s raven head popped up with his cheek lined with sleep marks, appearing disgruntled from being disturbed from his cat-nap. He rested his chin on top of the bunk’s railing, eyeing you both in mild interest despite the sleepy haze. “I’m allowed to be here—and I’m flattered, really.” Chenle shot you a meaningful look. “but hard pass. I’d prefer someone less neurotic.”

Sungchan let out a loud ‘ha!’ and you were far too mortified from admitting to your questionable, yet old attraction to your past subordinate to even rebut that and spark a debate with a guy just as competitive as yourself.

Chenle cracked a lazy smile after a moment of three of you exchanging looks. “So, Jeno, huh?” If one of them says his name one more time, you fear that his namesake would appear in this very room. “Makes sense. You’ve stopped bitching about him.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it…” Sungchan trailed off. “I was starting to think you killed him, or something. Didn’t think he’d buy your silence with sex. How did that even happen?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?”

Chenle tipped his head back with loud peels of laughter escaping him just as Sungchan rolled his eyes so hard that you silently hoped they’d get stuck staring into the void of where his brain was supposed to be.

“Be serious—an accident, she says.” Sungchan said in disbelief. “What, like his dick miraculously shoved itself deep into you without either of you knowing? Very funny.”

“What do you want me to say? It just happened—we were arguing,” (“of course you were.”) “We ended up kissing, then he fucked me on the coffee table—“

“Does he know people eat on that?” Chenle whined. “I eat on that.”

Your cheeks were scalding to the touch as you spoke through clenched teeth, “I couldn’t exactly ask since we were busy—”

Whatever else you had to say was cut short, much to the relief of both men when your phone buzzed from the pocket of your scrubs.

Sungchan took one quick peek at the lit up screen of your phone and snickered. “Speak of the devil.”

Chenle scoffed. “Jesus Christ, did I invoke his spirit or something?”

You immediately hushed them, tapping the answer button in haste.

“Hi, Jeno.”

Your voice took on a higher pitch as you greeted said roommate (whether it was from excitement or relief, you weren’t going to think too much about it) and completely glossed over the shared glances between Sungchan and Chenle because of it. There were a couple of things you’ve done in the past that were way worse than changing how you spoke to somebody.

“Hey, honey.” Good God. You were going to kill him.“Did I call you at a bad time? You sound worked up.”

“Peachy,” you ground out. “What do you want?”

“I brought you lunch? Well, no. I brought it, then left it with Jimin.”

“You didn’t poison it, did you?” You asked, dubious and gave Chenle the middle finger when he mimed making out with the air. Unbelievable. To think you’ve fantasized sucking his dick in one of the storage rooms before. “‘Cause why the hell would you be bringing me lunch when I brought lunch myself—”

“Actually, no. You forgot to pack food this morning.”

That gave you a start. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“...really?”

Jeno hummed as an affirmative. Huh. No wonder you felt like you were forgetting something. “I was waiting for you to notice in the car, actually. Or maybe call me about it.”

You scoffed. “Why would I?”

“I’m your roommate,” he said with a sigh. Like that answered everything. “You can call me for shit like this—I mean, you could demand me to make you cum, but—“

“Uh, yeah. I think I got your point—“

“But you can’t ask me to bring you food? And not everything has to turn into an argument, by the way. I come in peace.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Jeno sighed again, followed by a gravely drawl of your name.

Your mouth twitched. “Sorry. Force of habit,” and you supposed it was a hard habit to break when Jeno had been the bane of your existence. He still was, kind of. On a lesser scale. “But seriously, you didn’t have to. Don’t you have work?”

Because it wasn’t the first time where the thought of bringing enough sustenance to last you through your shift flew over your head, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The food served at the hospital’s cafeteria wasn’t too horrible, though it would not be your first choice. Only when you were in the trenches of desperation would you consider eating what was considered a bland diet.

“I took half a day off. It’s no big deal, and I wanted to.”

Having your roommate to simply bring you food had never been an option until now. There was no need to tell him either. Jeno simply chose to make the forty-minute drive to your hospital by his own volition to make sure you’ve eaten and the unprompted courtesy was enough to tamper the possible shift in moods you’d go through for today.

“Thanks… I guess.”

“Of course.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll see you at home?”

“On the dot.”

“Okay. Talk soon.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead right after a softer farewell from Jeno, prompting you to tear your gaze from your phone and glower at Sungchan. Only to balk when he stared back as if you were some fucked up specimen he couldn’t for the life for him figure out. Or judging you, probably.

“What the hell was that?” Sungchan blurted out.

“What was what?”

“Girl, you were smiling back there. Like—” and Sungchan made a rather offensive impression of you smiling and fluttering your eyelashes, face falling flat right after, then raising an eyebrow to signal for an explanation.

“What? Am I not allowed to smile when my asshole roommate brings me lunch? Maybe this is his way of saying ‘hey, sorry for being an absolute moron. Would good dick and good food count as groveling?’”

“Knowing you? Probably.”

“…Maybe.” You immediately waved that thought away with a grimace before swatting at Sungchan’s arm, earning you a yelp. “Horrible impression, by the way. I do not look like that.”

Sucgchan soundlessly parroted the latter half of what you just said in a mocking manner while soothing the spot where you hit him, then his face slowly flattened to something more thoughtful.

“Ugh. What now?”

He began with a long-suffering sigh, folding his arms, “I really hope you’re being smart about this.”

You did not like how critical he sounded. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The anger didn’t deter him in the slightest as he merely offered a non-committal shrug, gaze steady. “I’m just saying. I’ve been friends with you long enough to figure out you aren’t the type to willingly get yourself into situationships.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a situationship.”

“Sounds like one to me,” Chenle butted in.

You shot him a glare, something he waved off in blithe disregard. You really missed the earlier times where these two were still cautious around you.

“Are you going through a quarter-life crisis or something?” Sungchan asked. “Because looking at Jeno’s track record, he’s definitely the last person you’d go for. I thought you hated the guy?”

“I can still fuck the guy and hate him at the same time. It’s not mutually exclusive,” you joked, then sighed at the matching deadpans you got. “Seriously, you guys, It’s not like I’m expecting anything more.”

It went silent for a while. Neither Chenle had anything to say, and he was a chronic commenter towards conversations like this; though you weren’t sure if staying mum was better than giving his needless two cents. Chenle talked mostly to defuse the growing tension, proven quite useful when the time called for it. Then there was Sungchan again, staring at you as if he knew something you didn’t. It made your skin crawl and you were about to snap again when he beat you to it.

“I know,” he said evenly. “I’m just looking out for you.”

All the simmering animosity was put to a standstill, a small pulse of guilt rattling your heart because of course he would. Sungchan meant well like any other friend who genuinely cared for your well-being, and you reciprocated the sentiment seeing that you wouldn’t think twice elbowing the next asshole who would go against any of your friends as well.

“I get that. I do, but I’m also capable of making my own decisions.”

“Sure—yeah, but there’s still a fifty percent chance of this one coming back to bite you in the ass. Should I remind you of the twenty-twenty-two incident? That one model. Starts with a ‘Y’, ends with an ‘N’—”

“Okay, but we didn’t start as fuck buddies. And I genuinely thought we had something—“ Which was crazy to admit out loud despite it being the truth. “Yeonjun was awfully clingy and sweet.”

Granted, he had been like that with everybody, but even so, you had somehow deluded yourself into believing that Yeonjun reserved a piece of himself that only you had access to. How he spoke in hushed tones with the tenderness of a lover promising you the world. How his eyes matched the words saturated in reverence like what he had sitting in front of him was a multitude of stars banding together to form into a person that would fit the puzzle of me and you. Arguably, a soulmate.

Anyone who had been indefinitely touched-starved would have reveled in the delusion meticulously curated for them, or so you’d like to say as a form of reassurance. It was truly an embarrassing time.

“You really can’t blame me for thinking he was serious about me.”

Six passion-filled months. There wasn’t a day where Yeonjun wasn’t there, and then he fucked off to fuck-knows-where without even so much as a goodbye. Ghosted you, pretty much that you almost went catatonic with the constant overthinking, whether it was a problem on your end, or a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ type of thing.

That low period to you now was a fuzzy whirlwind of your friends lending their hands to help you get back onto your feet. Grieving of what could have been was an inevitable risk you refused to entertain then, and once you had powered your way through its five stages, a sixth stage was factored in: a milder version of arson. An addition Mark took great pleasure in when he insisted on handling the fire on your behalf.

Stolen ‘boyfriend’ clothes, received gifts, tangible memories in the form of paper like movie tickets, polaroids and a receipt from a yogurt shop’s grand-opening; all burnt with the vigor of a prehistoric man discovering fire, except this all happened in the apartment’s parking lot on a muggy spring midnight.

“Which is why I’m praying to every deity out there that you’re actually using your brain for this one,” Sungchan stressed. “and not treating this as an enemies-to-lovers type of situation. This isn’t Wattpad.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Appalled that he would even associate you with that capitalistic nightmare. And calling you stupid, too, you supposed. “I literally just said I wasn’t expecting anything other than sex.”

“We’ll take your word for it, then,” Chenle said, then raised both of his hands in defense when Sungchan fixed him a stern look. “What? You heard her. It doesn’t go any deeper than sex. She’s thought about this. That’s proof enough that she’s using her brain for once.” He turned to look at you, barely apologetic. “No offense.”

Your eye twitched. “Offense taken, asshole.”

Chenle smirked. “Good.”

“I hope your next case dies on the table.”

Sungchan stared at you for a long time. Besides the unwavering gaze, there was nothing you could latch onto that would have hinted to what he could possibly be thinking in the moment as those brown doe eyes of his pierced into the most vulnerable part of your soul. But you were just as stubborn in that regard, staring right back.

Sungchan broke first with a resigned, yet irritated sigh.

“Fine,” he said. “Fine. If the sex makes you less of a bitch than usual, then be my guest.”

“Wow,” you huffed. “you both are equally dogshit at this whole talking thing, you know that?”

And it wasn’t like you were clueless, obviously. Naive was one thing you weren’t and you knew exactly what you signed up for when your gaze would unconsciously trail after Jeno’s sinewy figure padding around the apartment after bumping uglies. When you became less irritated with everything he did such as breathing too loudly, and when you slowly, but surely started seeing Jeno as a friend, too.

Labeling yourselves as roommates was one thing as it was expected to have a level of civility there with one another. Settling on friends, on the other hand, made a sizable difference when the steadily growing bond gradually fizzled out the prior awkwardness after being at your most vulnerable. Jeno never made you second guess the unspoken agreement of being at each other’s beck and call, and in fact, he has been rather sweet about it. Dare you say it, doting even.

It was an occasional thought that would pop into your head during your quieter times away from work; if your roommate had the same candied regard for any wayward soul falling into the same bed, while at the same time, all logic told you Jeno was simply like that—kind and considerate to everybody no matter who they were. So the thought was quickly put to a rest.

Your phone lit up with a resounding ping.

Jeno Lee: eat well ‎(੭.◜◡◝)੭ ᯓᡣ𐭩

“Good God,” Sungchan groaned. “We lost another promising young woman to a man.” You shoved at his shoulder.

Though, maybe one small part of you thought being roommates had put you above the rest.

Jimin continued watching you devour your lunch like an overtly curious cat. Big-eyed and non-blinking, fixated on every minute movement you’ve been making that her salad was momentarily abandoned.

“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re fucking that up real good.”

“I’m fuckin’ hungry, damn,” you snapped, bits flying out of your mouth. Jimin barely batted an eyelash at the crumbs hitting her flawless face, smiling fondly. “I’ll ‘fuck up’ anythin’ at this point.”

“Fair enough,” Jimin conceded and took a more delicate approach in eating, giving her iceberg lettuce a dainty nibble; bunny-pink lips clashing nicely against the leafy green.

Painful as it was to admit, the chicken and veggie wrap, previously wrapped in foil labeled with ‘chicken veggie wrap :)’ in Jeno’s audacious scrawl, was delicious. So delicious, in fact, that it took only two large bites to reach half its original length. No wonder Jeno had been incessant with the whole meal prep thing. The guy knew his flavors pretty damn well. You could just picture him in your kitchen; the same pink frilly disaster of an apron cinched around his lithe waist, counting down the hours while making sure not a thing was out of place in a simple wrap until he had to make the lunch-run.

There was also a granola bar thrown in there. Jeno put you up on them after he had caught you snagging a few from his stash during a midnight kitchen run-in. You remember almost pissing yourself laughing when you had walked in on him subscribing for two boxes to arrive at your doorstep with a sweet pout just so he won’t run out as quickly now you’ve taken a liking to them. A bottle of orange juice because nagging how you’re in much need of some Vitamin C wasn't enough for him and lastly—for dessert—a small packet of organic gummy bears you were sure was made for toddlers, judging by its packaging.

Not that you were complaining. They were good; you’ve eaten five packets in one sitting after not finding anything from your stock of sweets and junk food which led to Jeno ordering extra of those, too. He mentioned it was a healthier alternative to the jellies he would be tempted to reach for when he craved some extra sugar.

Goddamn. This is so good. A contented hum and a wiggle of your shoulders expressed the sentiment, much to Jimin’s amusement. Right when you were about to take another gargantuan bite out of Jeno’s then eight-incher wrap, you came to a screeching halt at the sound of Mark calling your name.

Aside from Mark’s teal Fig scrubs, he was easy to spot when his already bright smile became blinding; the sun might as well shine out of his ass when he saw Jimin sitting with you, pleased that you were on talking terms again.

Unlike Jeno, Jimin had it heaps easier when it came to your forgiveness, and like Mark, Jimin had also been with you from stepping foot into your freshmen orientation, to the last walk after securing your degree. The only difference was Jimin had already been living with a mutual friend, and instead of the distance waning your closeness, it did the exact opposite. And if that wasn’t enough, you both got placed in the same hospital as an odd sort of compensation as well. Funny how the universe worked.

Sure, Jimin may have tinged a very small part of your suffering, but that was an easily buried hatchet. Besides, with your long withstanding friendship, you wouldn’t let a man come in between you both. Even if that man was Jeno Lee.

She was also the only other person who knew of your situation with Jeno. You thought it was only right to let her in on the secret, given she also slept with the man.

“Hey girls,” he greeted once reaching your table. “What are we talking about?”

“Jeno.” Jimin gestured towards you mid-bite. “He brought her lunch like a good housewife.”

“Oh dude, really?” Mark looked absolutely thrilled at the thought and completely glazed over Jimin’s joke, grinning so hard that for a second, you considered asking him if his cheeks hurt. “Awesome. It's great to see you two getting along now. Seriously.”

That’s one way to say it, you thought, schooling your expression into something blank as you shared a furtive glance with Jimin.

“Thought I was gonna have to break up another fight soon.”

“They’re getting along just fine, or so I’ve heard. I don’t think you have to worry about her becoming a convicted felon,” Jimin went on to say, confirming your so-called truce with a grin far too giddy when not too long ago, you had resented Jeno’s presence.

Somehow, this was what Mark noticed when you caught his eyebrows slightly knit together with a head tilt, eyes darting back and forth between you girls Though, before he could nose his way into your business as usual, you quickly cut him off.

“Jeno and I are fine, Mark,” you stressed. “Are you sitting with us?”

“Ah, no.” Mark shook his head. “Dejun’s waiting on me. I just wanna confirm if you’re coming to the party next week.”

“Party?” you echoed, a little lost. “What party?”

Mark arched an eyebrow. “Our housewarming party?” You squint, trying to recall if your best friend had mentioned anything about that. Mark blinked. “I called Jeno two days ago about it. I thought he told you?”

“Oh, right! That party. Yeah, totally.”

The call you knew about, yes. You were at least mentally present enough to jerk at the shrill ringtone Jeno had set for incoming calls and ask him who the hell had the worst timing in the world to call either of you post-coital bliss, but not lucid enough to recall the details of their conversation. Not when Jeno had smoothed the wrinkles of your brain—severely compromising any neural functions in charge of forming a thought or kicking you into action—after fucking the living shit out of you, the roughness fueled by a particularly difficult work day.

Something about an entitled asshole of a client demanding more and more of his time and efforts. You weren’t too sure. Jeno hadn’t talked much after that, or at all, really; rather preoccupied with releasing his frustrations by chasing both of your orgasms with each snap of his hips. The most you got was a grunt or two—two from the times you’ve attempted taking control. A third attempt was never made. Jeno made sure of it, pinning both of your wrists above your head, a look of warning etched onto his face.

There was also the distracting sight of him, naked as the day he was born, pacing around his bedroom. He had been speaking low into the phone as he picked up after yourselves; gathering your clothes that were ripped off of each other in haste and then dumping them into his laundry basket, giving you a full view of his pale ass. Huh, there’s a mole on his left ass cheek—yeah, very distracting.

Jeno then turned around to face you, dick and balls swinging at that, still on the phone with Mark yapping about whatever and mimed drinking out of a mug with a quizzical glint in his eyes. Coffee?

You nodded slowly, curling further into the soft nest made up of the duvet, pillows and the sweet and musky scent of Jeno.

The last thing you saw before you dozed off was the gentle stretch of Jeno’s lips as he continued talking (seriously, how much did Mark have to say?) cheek and a broad shoulder holding his phone in place while pulling a clean pair of boxers up his thighs.

“If you can’t find your dog, just look for me.” That pretty much confirmed Jimin’s attendance.

Mark snickered then turned to you, expecting. “Are you and Jeno coming together then?”

“Well,” you trailed off, pretending to think long and hard about it just to mess with your ex-roommate. “Jeno is the one with a car, so…”

When Mark started to look sulky, that’s when you laughed and took a pause from pulling his leg.

“Yes. Jeno and I are coming together.”

“Mark’s housewarming party.”

Jeno, who had been in the middle of stuffing the washer with your clothes combined, looked at you with an eyebrow raised. You stared back at him. “Seriously? You’re not going to follow that up with anything else?”

“I wasn’t aware it was happening so soon.”

Both eyebrows disappeared underneath his hair. “You were literally in my room when Mark called. He was on speaker.”

Was he now? Because all you could remember was a muffled sound of something talking Jeno’s ear off. Nothing was coherent to you during that time. You were fucked too stupid, unfortunately.

“I can’t recall,” you said mostly to yourself, but it was still heard anyway, judging by the tinge of amusement lighting Jeno’s face. “I think I was distracted.”

“Were you?” The overhead light made Jeno’s teeth glint almost dangerously as he grinned. As if one sudden move from you would end up having those sharp pearly whites of his pressed against your throat. “Distracted? You? Care to elaborate?”

The thing about living under the same roof for months and counting was your roommate will inadvertently pick up on things. One of them being the hows of dealing with you and you so called riddle-speak of passive-aggressiveness—patient and kind Jeno. There was none of that now. What stood tall before you was almost like a crude version of yourself molded by long-term exposure alone. Jeno was pushing back, more than usual—posing as a challenge almost; to give you a taste of your own medicine, but you were never one to back down.

With each step you took towards Jeno, an article of clothing came off. And with each of them falling with dull thump, Jeno’s eyes grew wider, jaw dropping further until it hit the ground when you stood so so close—a hair’s breadth away that he could make out the remnants of the cloying notes of your perfume—bare as goosebumps erupted on your skin from the cool blast of the air conditioning and the dark look Jeno fixed onto you when you plop your clothes into the almost empty laundry basket he held.

“Well?” You said, biting back a laugh by chewing on your lower lip as you peered over your shoulder to find your roommate still frozen while you were already halfway across the room. “Aren’t you coming?”

You had no interest in hearing his answer (it was obvious), spinning on your heel to make the sensual trek towards his bedroom. Though, you supposed, hearing Jeno scramble and swear like a damn sailor was worth not feasting your eyes on what it was like watching Jeno Lee lose his goddamn mind.

There was a knock on your en suite and Jeno’s head popped in through the opening of the door.

“Ready when you are,” he said, beaming when he met your gaze through the mirror.

“Almost,” you said, frowning slightly when you couldn’t get your eyeliner just right. “If my eyeliner does its fucking job.”

“Want me to help?” Jeno walked in, gently taking the liquid eyeliner from your shaky fingers and patting your hip so you could turn around and face him. “I’m pretty good with my hands.”

“Mm, I bet. Is that what you say to the other girls?” you jeered, but let him cradle your cheek nevertheless for him to save your poor attempt at evening out your eyeliner. You tilted your head back to make it easier and Jeno hummed, pleased with your rare compliance.

“They were never really up for talking, if I’m being honest—close your eyes for me—thank you.” His voice was soft. As soft as the felt tip that swiped a clean line above your eyelashes that left a slight cooling sensation from the ink. “Always a one and done thing,” he said this quietly, all too quickly, which gave you quite a start. Jeno didn’t seem to pick up on (thankfully) as he continued to talk, “and I have an older sister who's notorious for sharing her hobbies. I know too much about makeup and true crime. You aren’t going to kill me after this, are you?” That made you laugh.

“She sounds really nice,” you offered instead, thinking it wouldn’t be good to nudge the crack of vulnerability wider when you had to be somewhere else soon.

“She’s the best,” Jeno switched to your other eye, “You’d get along with her, I think.”

Somehow, the notion eased you. “Tell me more about her.”

For someone who labeled himself quiet on most occasions, Jeno was rather loose-lipped when he talked about his sister, and it didn’t stop there. Not that it wasn’t welcomed—his voice was rather pleasant to the ears, you’ve observed, but it was likely due to the fact that getting Jeno to talk usually requires some coaxing, so it was a charming surprise. From what he said so far, there was this muddled, but workable silhouette of his family dancing around your head, an almost trustworthy point of reference if somehow you had to get Mr. and Mrs. Lee plus older sister Lee on your good side.

(“Just think of them as me, but in, like, different fonts,” Jeno said and he seemed quite serious about his claim, too. “You’ll be fine.”

“Ah, so you’d be easy to impress then. Got’cha.”)

Not only that, but the conversation steered towards the family cats he loved dearly, but was painfully allergic too. Either Seol or Nal would have been an exciting addition to your living situation and it took you a full minute to mourn the loss of a furry companion. Although you loved the idea and would do anything to make it a reality, Jeno’s health mattered most here. He might have given you a free trial of what hell could be like all those months ago, but you genuinely cared about his comfort and safety.

In exchange, Jeno got to know more about Mom and Dad. Mom ran a small coffee shop she had built from the ground up; a modestly sized café that sat just across the private hospital where Dad worked as a surgeon and unlike your roommate, Mom and Dad were blessed by only one daughter: you. Though you did joke that the family samoyed, Dozy, could as well be their second child from how he was loved so much as if he were their own, just like how they loved you.

“Y’know, he kind of looks like you,” you said as you handed over your phone to show your lock screen set as one of Dozy’s many pictures you had taken and went back to finish the rest of your face makeup. “Maybe it’s the eyes and how you both are so damn smiley all the time,” you chuckled. “Dozy’s always been a happy pup. I miss him.”

“Believe me, that’s not the first time I’ve been told I look like a samoyed,” Jeno said with a crooked smile as he slid back your phone to rest next to your makeup bag. “I’m pretty sure Hyuck’s convinced I am one.”

“You are quite the horndog. He’s not too far off. I won’t have to worry about you humping my leg, will I?”

“You’re not funny.” Jeno sulked, making you snicker at his pouty self.

“Is your dad why you became a nurse?”

You gave him a smile before facing the mirror to work on your eyelashes. “Kind of, but I think my aunt—Mom’s sister—was the one who influenced me, mostly. She always cared so much about people. Cared so much about me too, and she was like my second mom growing up. Especially when we moved to the city. And as much as I thought being a surgeon like Dad was cool, I wanted to be like Auntie more—more hands on with the patient’s recovery and care.”

You tubed the mascara, satisfied with the added definition to your eye-look. “I could have been like Dad though, but I never had the guts to stick my hands into people like he does.”

“Huh,” was all Jeno had to say and it made you snort.

“Yeah, I get that it’s surprising for you, given I wasn’t exactly nice to you at one point,” you said, sheepish as you stared at the clutter of make-up on the counter sink. “Sorry for being a major bitch, by the way.”

“No—no, it’s not that,” Jeno said, holding up a placating hand. “It makes sense, really—that you really care about your job. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“Eh, it’s whatever.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad about it anymore. It’s just fun being mean to you for no reason sometimes.”

Jeno sighed in relief, and then grinned so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I can see why Hyuck and Jaemin like you so much.”

“It’s really hard not to,” you joked.

“I can agree with that, yeah.” Your roommate’s smile dimmed into something gentler, gaze slowly taking in your mirrored image, causing you to blink owlishly. Not at the blatant ogling because God knows how much of an ogler you were when Jeno wasn’t paying attention, but somehow the gleam nestled in the darkness of his eyes was starkly different from what you were used to when stripped down to your bare necessities. You supposed you should be used to it. Jeno seemed to have a bit of a staring problem.

You rid any thoughts relating to why that was with an immediate shake of your head. “What about you? What got you into cyber security?”

“Mine’s not really for a noble cause, or anything.” Jeno moved from where he stood behind you to stand to your right, resting his hip against the edge of the counter with his arms folded above his chest. “I was good with Math and computers. That evolved into programming, decided to make a career out of it and went to college while deluding myself that I’d make good money someday. Which kind of came true, I guess.”

“Sounds like you could afford an apartment by yourself then,” you said, recalling the time where Mark had told you about Jeno's exceptional credit score. Anything that fell under your roommate’s state of finances wasn’t ever mentioned and asking him point-blank was considered rude, but that alone was enough to give you an idea of how deep his pockets ran. Though the notion should have come faster to you, with how Jeno carried himself sometimes. Or his preference for the more obscure brands you haven’t heard of until him.

“You’re not trying to kick me out, are you?” He teased just as you were about to correct yourself. “I could have, yeah. I know I’m not the most social, but it can get very lonely at times.”

Now isn’t that the truth? Although the thought hadn’t crossed your mind all too much, you were no stranger to the feeling. You supposed you had to thank Mark for not letting you waste away in isolation when the guy practically viewed you as an extension of himself, always dragging you along for the ride which didn’t leave any time for you to wallow in a closed space with your hurricane of thoughts. He had always made sure you were out in the open and involved with anything under the wide umbrella of socialization. You’d be a hermit if it weren’t for Mark.

Where there was someone else acting on your behalf, there was no such thing when it came to Jeno. It's as if there was this gravitational pull drawing you into each other. You simply just found yourselves within each other’s orbit without any prompting and the silence that would usually follow hadn’t been as oppressive as you thought it would be, acting more of a companion and if anything, it reshaped your perception of it.

Sitting in silence was a form of a bonding activity you enjoyed with Jeno and it was just as gratifying disrupting the peace with breathless calls of his name.

“And now?” you pressed. “Do you still feel the same?”

“I haven’t for a long time, no.” I haven’t because of you, his smile and the tenderness that softened Jeno’s striking features seemed to say, but you didn’t let yourself hang onto the possibility. Prickly as you were, you were no exception to Jeno’s inherent sweetness. “Say, you haven’t put anything on your lips yet, right?”

“You watched me do most of my makeup.”

Jeno clicked his tongue. “Just answer my question.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “No, Jen, this is just lip balm.” Facing him, you peered up at him curiously. “Why? Do you want me to put on a shade that matches your tip?”

The surprised strings of laughter you pulled out of him was the loudest you’ve ever heard him, making you grin. “Jesus, shut up!” He wheezed with a playful swat to your wandering hands that almost closed in on his crotch. “I’m trying to be cute here.”

You huffed, charmed by his efforts. Like he wasn’t cute already to begin with.

“Alright, fine. I’ll bite. Why?”

When his laughter died down, Jeno’s hands moved before he spoke, warmth cradling your cheek as his other hand pulled you closer by the waist. “I really really want to kiss you right now,” he murmured as his fingers slowly trailed down to your neck, Jeno’s thumb swiping away the sticky remnants of the berry flavored lip balm and then settled into the little notch right underneath the hinge of your jaw. “It’d be a shame if I ruined it.”

Another gentle press of his thumb and fingers splaying down the side of your neck had you tipping back to watch him through half-lidded eyes. He was so close. The sweeter notes of Jeno’s perfume crossed with his minty aftershave brewed a scent so intoxicating, so Jeno. He smelled delectable that the next words he was about to say didn’t make it out when you got on your toes, wound your arms around his neck and kissed him.

It was sweet, though a little needy judging by how tightly Jeno’s hand clamped along the softness of your waist. If it weren’t for Mark and his girlfriend’s invitation hanging around your shoulders serving as a heavy reminder, you would have easily gotten swept up by the tempting idea of being ravished in your own bathroom by your handsy roommate.

“We’ll be late at this rate,” you mumbled against his mouth, dragging your hands down his shoulders then settling them on his chest.

Jeno let himself be pushed away, albeit reluctantly, with a resigned sigh. “Right,” he said with a sweet pout that would have done it for you, but you held strong to your self-control.

There’s a precious pink tinge to his cheeks as he watched you rifle through the spread of makeup on the bathroom counter with a serene smile.

“So, do you really have a lipstick color that matches my dick?”

“Man.”

To Jeno’s absolute delight, Mark’s girlfriend thought your lip shade and combo was perfect.

“It’s like the color was made for you,” she gushed as she led you inside and you looked at your roommate fighting a smug smile (that you had half the mind to swipe off, but you promised to yourself you’d be good tonight) while handing her his housewarming gift—a matching tea-set—along with yours: a pair of high-quality bathroom towels with the couple’s initials stitched onto them.

The space looked a lot more put-together than the last time you’ve visited (which was like a few days ago and now did you see the dynamic palette they were going for) and a lot livelier with everybody else ranging from your closest friends to mutual acquaintances chattering up a storm with one of Mark’s playlists breathing life and color into every nook and cranny of the apartment. It truly felt like a home now and you could never be more proud of your best friend reaching a milestone with the love of his life.

“How long do you think ‘til Mark pops the question?”

“Are we going by feeling, or logic?”

Jeno shook his head and steered you towards the kitchen for drinks, a hand splayed on your lower back. “Privilege,” he suggested. “Or logic too, yeah. Out of all of us, you’re the closest to Mark. I’m sure he’s talked to you about it at some point.”

There was a ring. That was one thing you were sure of, but the details of when Mark was going to get hitched hadn’t really become a topic for discussion. It’ll come in due time. You relayed this tidbit to Jeno which earned you a solemn nod while he poured you a glass of moscato with a thoughtful pursing of his lips.

You squeezed his bicep in silent thanks, taking a healthy gulp of the sweet carmine while Jeno took to nursing a bottle of beer and swiped a slice of pizza sitting idly on the counter among many other finger-foods for you, then served himself. The pizza was still warm and you were rather peckish, and you couldn’t care less if you looked like an animal chomping down on the greasy goodness.

Jeno didn’t look like he minded, simply reaching out to pet your head with a satisfied twitch of his lips before his hand fell back to his side. It filled you with something warm and fuzzy that you promptly drowned whatever the fuck that was with the moscato. Must be the cheese.

“Well, shit,” he said eventually, smacking his lips together after a sip and then took a bite of his slice that muffled his next slew of words, “I have this on-going bet with a few other people who’re wondering the same. Figured I’d win with your help.” Taking a quick glance at your now empty glass, he refilled it without any preamble.

“My condolences.” The idea of a betting pool centered around Mark’s foreseeable engagement was so ridiculous that it made you laugh and almost tipped your drink over. “sorry I couldn’t make you rich,” you offered after getting through the giggling and thanked him for the refill.

“It’s fine. I earn enough for both of us anyway.” Jeno winked, laughing softly when that made you choke on your drink a little and handed you a tissue to clean up the spillage.

The first hour consisted of you making your rounds as a pair, sticking close as you made polite conversation with anyone you knew as a unit until you inevitably branched out to catch up with your own closer set of friends. You were in the middle of bullying Renjun into talking about his own private life outside of work when Mark decided to unearth himself from whatever social pile had consumed him, excusing you from Renjun and Jimin, who in fact, had their dog held hostage like she promised. Yet Ziggy appeared rather content, if anything, dozing away in the cradle of her arms.

“I’m really glad you and Jeno could make it,” Mark said, eyes sparkling. “I was half expecting you to show up without him, or, like, ignore him the entire night.”

“Like I’ve said before, Jeno and I are way past the animosity,” you complained. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“It’s kinda hard to move past the fact you’ve called me at fuck o’ clock just to tell me he looked at you wrong.”

(You had been enlightened that those were fuck me eyes Jeno was shooting you, but you didn’t think Mark would appreciate the clarification).

“Yeah, well, that was before Jeno and I decided to be adults and talk like you’ve said. We’re cool now.”

“I know, I know and I’m really happy about that.”

You huffed, squinting at him. “Way too happy.”

He grinned with a twinkle in his eyes and reached out to flick your nose. “I just can’t help but think that you’re only saying that to reassure me or something.” Mark raised, which didn’t make him wrong. God knows the exact amount of times you’ve called or texted the man in regards to your supposed then misfortune of taking Jeno in. “Glad to know that’s not the case.”

“You have no faith in me.” you said, dry. “We've lived together for almost four years and still, you have no faith in me.”

“I’m a ‘see it to believe it’ kinda guy, and I’ve seen enough to believe you. I’ve been trying to get you alone, y’know? And I can’t really do that when you’ve got Jeno hovering around you.”

“Okay? That literally has never stopped you before.”

Mark knew where he stood being the closest to what you would consider family, he knew the many advantages that came with it too and people were conscious of it as well, such as snatching you away mid-conversation with no repercussions. His current neutral mien then twisted into something shrewd and a touch gloating as though he was in on some kind of inside joke he could very well tell you about, but decided not to because it would be funnier for him.

“You both have my blessing then.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Mark, what the hell are you talking about?”

Mark also knew you hated not knowing anything.

Of all people, he was well acquainted with this pet-peeve of yours, yet it was so easy for him to give you a wordless pat on the shoulder and leave you in the dark. You were left even more lost when you caught him giggling to himself when leaving you on your own, probably to search for his better half, and that wasn’t even the end of it.

The simpering followed you all the way to the small collective of women you gathered with once every two weeks (minus Mark’s girlfriend who was likely still entertaining a few of their guests). Any other day, the sight of the girls would have filled you with elation, though it’s as if you weren’t allowed it under the varying states of coquettish looks you received and instead, confronted with the late realization that you’ve unknowingly walked into a snake’s pit.

It made your hackles rise and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

“What are the odds that I’d see an old hook-up at a housewarming party?” Jayme drawled, “and not only that, but he came with you too.”

You blinked slowly, already over it. “I would hope so since he is my roommate and the one with a car, in case you forgot.”

“No duh, we know that,” Aeri rolled her eyes. “but it’s still just so crazy to me! It’s like fate at work, y’know? We’ve all had our fun with Jeno once or a few times before he fucked off to somewhere and went radio silent, only for us to find out he landed at your door and stayed there. Indefinitely.”

“Uh huh. Kinda comes with the idea of having a roommate. You live with the person. Indefinitely.”

Aeri stuck her tongue out at you.

Fei cackled, making you turn to her with pleading eyes. This only made her smile turn sharper. “I’ve got to say, I’m kinda jealous that you have access to him twenty-four-seven,” she mused. “He looks really good tonight. I wouldn’t know what not to do to him if he lived with me.”

They were never really up for talking. Always a one and done thing.

Oh. So that’s what Jeno meant. At first, you had thought his blatant evasion was simply the result of the awkwardness that would at times stem after recounting his past physical involvements with anyone else. Showing up at this gathering—being in the same space with the handful of women Jeno had been with—you couldn’t help but wonder how he fared with the unprecedented reunion, especially within their range of scrutiny, because the more you listened to the girls talk, Jeno’s hesitance on broaching the topic grew easier to understand.

They were never really up for talking became this incessant drawl in your head, as grating as hearing the same damn mosquito buzz right by your ear alongside their flagrant chatter about your roommate and his performance limited within the four corners of his bed. To the girls, Jeno was nothing more than a toy to be discarded once they got bored playing with him.

“Okay—can you guys be normal for one second?”

You didn’t mean to snap the way you did, but if that put a stop to the one-sided conversation, then so be it. Whatever Jeno was feeling at the moment could not possibly be on par with the steadily growing irritation prickling under your skin. The last time you had checked on him, there was a relaxed slump in his form as he spoke with Mark and you hoped it stayed that way.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “He’s literally right there and this is hardly the time or place.”

They made it sound like Jeno wasn’t attached to the cock they raved about. A real human with real thoughts and feelings. It made your stomach roll uncomfortably just as you balled your fists to stop them from shaking. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Fei scrunched her nose as the rest of your posse leveled the cold bleeding into your words with mild alarm. “Girl, relax, it's all in good fun.”

“And aren’t you having as much fun with him?” Aeri asked, “since when were you a prude?”

A prude? Far from it. Promiscuous? Not that either. A healthy balance between two opposing natures, likely, teetering the fine line separating them. As far as you were concerned, however, no one knew—except for a small pool of people you've told personally—what you got up to with Jeno.

It was a running joke, the girls poking fun at the perk you refused to use to your advantage and there were times where you had been tempted to tell them just how often you pawed at Jeno until he gave in to your whims (which wasn’t all that hard really). In the end, especially after this talk, you’d prefer to keep the nitty-gritty details under multiple locks and keys.

“Or a hypocrite,” Jayme chimed in.

Leaving this place with a permanent scowl etched onto your face wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

“Just—just stop fucking talking about him like—like that. I—” I don’t like it. “It’s weird. Inappropriate.” you muttered, staring at your still tightened fists on your lap that bunched up the billow of your dress.

It went quiet for a while, like it does whenever someone expressed their grievances within the circle and it was especially unnerving when you became the very subject of the girls’ observation. You didn’t dare break under the pressure, staring resolutely at the loud artwork and wall decor hung up with an otherwise jaded stare. The least you could do was keep your head held high where your face could be seen so you wouldn’t get found out.

Fei took it upon herself to break the ice with a quirk of a thin eyebrow. “You think it’s weird?”

“It’s weird,” you echoed and offered nothing more. Saying that it pissed you off more than you had expected would just have them make something out of nothing, and dealing with it was not really part of your agenda for the night.

“You weren’t complaining before, unless…” Fei’s impression smoothed over as understanding dawned on her face. “Ah. Okay, I see.”

Okay, that’s also weird as hell because why was Fei (and the others) regarding you with the same look Mark had given you moments ago?

Whatever it was, your questions were unfortunately put on the back-burner the moment a pained yelp caught everyone’s attention.

When all of you faced the direction it came from and found Donghyuck writhing, it didn’t come as a surprise. Give Donghyuck an inch and he’d take miles upon miles until he found his limit. The limit seemed to be the man you just talked about this time as the crushing grip around Donghyuck’s hand pulled a pained whine from the latter. He must have ticked Jeno off so badly if his knees were so close to meeting the ground, as opposed to Jaemin who stood off to the side, lax and just happy to be there witnessing his roommate’s self-inflicted misfortune.

Aeri cleared her throat, “does that also mean we’re not allowed to look or..?”

“Look all you want,” you said, following it with a derisive noise and got up, dusting your behind as you went.

There was no harm in leaving them to feast their eyes on your Adonis of a roommate. They’re free to do as much. It’s not like they’re the ones who got to go home with Jeno and they sure as hell weren’t the ones who got to have him in any way you wanted.

“Oh, good,” Aeri said, relieved, and fully took advantage of the five second window to fix a hungry look onto Jeno which, yeah, totally understandable. She could have waited when you weren’t watching, though. “‘Cause your man looks insanely gorgeous tonight.”

You let out a scoff. You weren’t born yesterday and lord knows how you wished you were immune to your roommate’s charms. Being ignorant of Jeno supposedly winning in the genetic department was a rare feat on its own that even the agreement between strangers had been timely; double takes were more common than not when your roommate fit the equation, and tonight wasn’t any different.

Maybe it was how Jeno wore his dress shirt; three unlatched buttons to flash a glimpse of his pale chest with the sleeves folded to reveal veiny forearms phlebotomists fantasized about (you know you did. Sometimes. Where the hell was he when you needed someone to draw blood from for your labs and practicals?) or the plain jeans in the same shade accentuating his long legs, or the dramatic change to his hair.

A week ago, Jeno had mentioned getting his hair done. With the longevity of Jeno’s infamous blue hair, the immediate thought after telling him your usual boba tea order was he might have set an appointment to get a touch up like he had done a few times and keep the mullet, or at least give it a trim and keep it neat.

Neither of your assumptions were right and instead, Jeno had walked into the apartment with a two-block cut and hair dyed back to his natural shade of black as you were in the middle of vacuuming. It could have gone two ways, one where you could have finished with the list of chores you had for the day.

Eh, vacuuming can wait. I deserve a break, you had thought as the cold herringbone flooring met your knees, pulling down Jeno’s athletic shorts along with his stirrup leggings as you went—low enough for his dick to spring free before he could even utter a ‘hello’. That was a testament to how much you agree that, yes, Jeno might as well be the eighth wonder of the world. Truly a sight to behold. Sometimes, you couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that he was real. That he was this irresistible.

You couldn’t even begin to explain how utterly obsessed you had been with him during the days leading up to the housewarming party; the looks, the wandering hands among the other very obvious hints you’ve dropped. Jeno at least enjoyed the attention, just as you enjoyed watching him gasp and whine with tears lining his eyes when the need to cum had his body going taut, his cock nestled deep in your throat.

“You’re so lucky.”

The corners of your mouth quirk at the sight of Jeno smiling sweetly amidst Donghyuck’s distress. “Sure am.”

Fei barked a short laugh, “congratulations.”

The comment went ignored, as well as the collective hooting when you hurried over to the trio of men standing just before the small hallway that led to the bedrooms and home office, talking among themselves. Well, the conversation was mostly carried by Jeno and Jaemin. Donghyuck was still whining from Jeno’s grip. How long had that been going on again?

Once you reached them, you decided to spare Donghyuck’s poor hand and wound your arms around Jeno’s arm closest to you, surprising both you and him considering you weren’t exactly a fan of PDA. However, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the least bit satisfied from the scandalized gasps the girls let out.

“Hi,” you greeted. Jeno did nothing to hide his apparent shock, granting him a wry smile and a squeeze to his bicep as you turned to face the gawking pair with practiced indifference. “Oh, it’s you.”

Donghyuck was the quickest to recover, wrinkling his nose. “You saw us, like, thirty minutes ago.”

“I’ve seen enough.”

As opposed to Donghyuck, who immediately pouted at your blithe disregard of him, Jaemin found it amusing, drawing in all the attention with a mixed noise of surprise and delight. “Look at you two,” he cooed, eyes the beadiest they’ve ever been as they darted between you with a sharp grin. “Since were you this cozy with each other?”

“Don’t act coy. You weren’t even supposed to know about us, but somebody couldn’t lie to save his life.” Jeno at least had half the mind to look a bit guilty with a bashful smile tugging at his lips, if not a little prideful, when he stood a little straighter. Ugh. Men.

Jaemin’s shark-like grin didn’t falter in the slightest. “It worked out, didn’t it?”

“Since I realized he was worth more alive than dead, yeah. I guess.” You gave Jeno’s bicep another self-indulgent squeeze and pressed your cheek against it. “He listens to me very well.”

Jeno jerked in your hold with an affronted noise.

“He’s always been such a good boy,” Donghyuck cooed and reached out with his good hand to scratch Jeno’s chin. “Aren’t you?”

You caught the twitch in Jeno’s eyebrow and for about three seconds, Donghyuck’s pain-filled shriek drowned out the excited chatter. Barely anyone batted an eyelash, used to your friend’s raucous nature, and the party carried on as usual despite the small disturbance. The least you could do was pat Donghyuck’s shoulder, much more delicate than Jeno could ever be with him. You still ended up laughing at his pitiful state, however, before pulling Jeno aside and leaving Jaemin to deal with the aftermath of his roommate’s sulking.

“You okay?”

You herded Jeno further into the same small hallway, immediately relaxing from the needed privacy. Everyone else was too preoccupied anyway. Small mercies.

“Yeah,” you said with a meek nod. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jeno’s face did this thing whenever his thoughts tend to process on the faster side of things. Although you’ve often seen this happen in real time, being on the receiving end of his muted scrutiny—at least from the times where you were aware—had been on the complete opposite of the spectrum. It made you feel a little weird inside, but you were honestly too tired to misread the look as something else that would then evolve into an argument you’d lead.

“For starters, you usually don’t grope me in public,” Jeno quipped, flexing his arm until his shirt tightened around the muscle and it’s actually so dumb that it was enough to make you laugh.

Jeno beamed, delighted.

“You have nice arms,” and you took it as an invitation to be handsy in the dim hallway. “Very nice to look at. Strong."

He rolled his eyes just as you inwardly winced at your lack of eloquence. Your attempt at ass-kissing could use some work, yet Jeno hasn’t made the move to pull away from your touch. He said it himself—Jeno was awfully easy to please.

“Just tell me what you want.”

“Your credit card details.”

Jeno raised an eyebrow.

“My credit…” He hesitated for a little bit, searching your face that—with years of practice—was schooled into a neutral expression that wouldn’t give anything away. Slowly, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slightly worn leather wallet.

You cracked a smile. “I’m just fucking with you,” you chuckled. “I do want to go home though.”

He froze then hastily shoved his wallet back, pink in the face. “Right now?”

“Mhm, right now. It’s okay if you want to stay. I know you haven't been able to hang out with Jaemin and Donghyuck lately.” Jeno looked doubtful. “I’ll get an Uber home,” you assured him.

He didn’t answer right away, Jeno’s interest momentarily stolen by the party growing louder by each tick of the clock which you could immediately tell was Donghyuck’s doing from the distinct hearty yell of ‘Mark Lee!’.

A part of you understood that Jeno wasn’t technically bound by your decisions, disregarding the amount of times you gladly let Jeno bend, twist and pull you to mold seamlessly against him to a point where you couldn’t tell where he ended, or where you began. It’s not at all lost to you that you were still your own person just as Jeno had the free will to do whatever the fuck he so desired without you breathing down his neck, yet the other half of you—the ugly, selfish half hoped—wanted—Jeno to call it a night too and let himself get swept off of his feet to take him home. Hell, you half-considered shoving your pride aside to ask him to leave with you.

Though it seemed that no pride will take a hit tonight when Jeno gazed back at you with a sweet curl to his mouth and a gentle shake of his head. He reached out to loosely wrap a hand around your wrist.

“They can survive without me for a day,” he said as his fingers brushed down the back of your hand until they caught onto yours and laced them together. “Let’s go home.”

Everything dissolved into a blur after that. A blur of goodbyes to the hosts and the fair few that made up the shared circle of friends. You didn’t pay much attention to that; barely said anything, too focused on how well your hands fit together.

V.

“Would you do what it takes; If I fall, am I safe?”

“We’re getting old,” was the first thing you said the moment you and Jeno crowded through the front door. “Who dips at eleven?”

“It’s a reasonable time,” Jeno assured.

“Yeah, for losers.” He took your coat to hang it in the hallway closet with his. “We’re losers, Jen. What the fuck,” you whined, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I don’t think anyone’s gonna think you’re a loser for wanting to go home? This isn’t college anymore. I promise you, no one gave a fuck that we left early, and no one definitely gave a fuck that Jaemin passed out like an old man on Mark’s recliner.” Jeno snorted and yeah, it was pretty funny catching the light sheen of drool poking at the corner of Jaemin’s open mouth as he snored with a beer in hand still, but he had a reason why he conked out in the first place. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if your reason for leaving would be considered.

Leaving because you couldn’t stand the way your friends gossiped about your roommate for being (kind of) a slut didn’t sound like a valid reason to most.

“I’d sure hope so,” you said drily. “A neurosurgeon—is he crazy? Let’s just hope he won’t get sued for medical malpractice or n-negligence.”

Jeno whirled around with both eyebrows raised. “You okay?”

You managed to get your chattering teeth under control. “Just cold.” You ran warmer than most, which meant you get cold easily and it won’t be long until snow starts to blanket everything in sight and possibly turn you into a bi-pedaled popsicle the moment you step outside even underneath the layers upon layers you dreaded to put on—

“C’mere.” And that thought was immediately put to a standstill when you were swathed by a firm coil of warmth; warmth that was Jeno and his toned arms, toned torso, toned pectorals, toned everything around your shivering form, which was admittedly nice. Comforting. If this were a cartoon, you can imagine the steam rising thickly off of your body as Jeno smothered you more into him, cheek pressed right into his exposed sternum.

“So.” You sighed at the rumbling against one side of your face. “What’s the real reason why we’re home early like ‘losers’?”

Despite Donghyuck dragging Jeno’s supposedly lack of humor to filth, you had always found him funny. He knew how to time his jokes well. He could be just as witty as you, Donghyuck and Jaemin combined when he actually tried and you could agree that Jeno’s dry sense of humor wouldn’t always be a hit with everybody, unlike yourself who had been surprisingly easily entertained now that you’ve gotten over your one-sided beef with him. Jeno’s humor was an acquired taste. Usually, you’d be laughing by now from Jeno piggy-backing onto your joke, but you stayed mum and just snuggled further into the welcoming warmth.

There was a little bit of coaxing from Jeno while he kept you toasty, gently rocking you both from side-to-side. Your feet were starting to hurt from standing so long, but you’d take your chances of greedily absorbing Jeno’s body heat.

You sighed, adjusting so that you were peering up at him with your chin digging into his chest. “It’s stupid,” you began, taking a few seconds to get your thoughts in order. “Well—no, it’s me who’s being stupid, but—ugh. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being dramatic,” then quieter, ”fuck knows how often I’ve been called that.” You seethed, frowning as you broke eye contact and pushed your cheek to his chest again, finding the even beats of Jeno’s heart sort of soothing.

His response was to hold you tighter, lips pressing into your hair before he murmured, “whatever’s bothering you isn’t stupid.”

You huffed softly. “Thanks for the validation, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jeno squeezed you again and then pulled back a little to regard you in earnest. “What’s wrong?” His face then twisted to worry. “Who pissed you off? Did you get into a fight?”

Okay, sure you were short-tempered, bordering on trigger-happy, really, and you were well aware of your own shortcomings atypical for the ideal woman, so it wasn’t at all shocking that Jeno assumed so. But you were going to toot your own horn here and say you’ve been well-behaved the majority of the evening. With no debates or fights instigated by you; up until you lost your streak when the girls had spoken out of line.

It took you a while until the very thing that gave your mood a 180 shift came spilling out.

“How would you react if a person talked shit about someone… close to you?”

Jeno, who clearly wasn’t expecting any words from how cagey you had been prior, flinched at the timbre of your voice that echoed throughout your bathroom, wide eyes blinking at your expecting reflection.

“How close are we talking about?” He hit back, adjusting the Cinamorroll headband to get his hair out of the way and then reaching for his toothbrush that was somehow there.

When Mark had moved out, you immediately took the chance of claiming the master bedroom as your own. It had a sizable walk-in closet big enough to house a separate collection of clothes for two people to which Mark’s wardrobes barely filled and a large full bathroom with ‘his and hers’ sinks. You claimed one of them, most of your shit either organized in one neat row such as your skincare, or left haphazardly scattered when you were in a hurry.

Jeno staked claim on the other sink. There was his bougie whitening toothpaste. A container housing his retainers where its existence would occasionally be forgotten until you reminded him, a select few of his own skincare—a less elaborate collection which made sense when he, to your envy, had near-perfect skin—and—ah. A half-finished bottle of Ferrari Light Essence. The cologne surprised you the most. As far as you could remember, it had never strayed from its original place: Jeno’s dresser.

“Close enough,” you answered eventually, purposely vague and passed over the logistics of Jeno unceremoniously leaving pieces of him with you—in your space, when you were sure your cleansing balm melted away your makeup. You leaned closer to the faucet to wash off the evidence that you had been out.

“I’d be pissed, obviously,” Jeno said, not really noticing your subdued reply. He took a moment to brush his teeth, spitting out the foamy toothpaste once he deemed his mouth brushed enough and once your face dripped of clear water. “Like, it’s one thing being an asshole, but being an asshole to my friend?” Jeno scoffed, shaking his head to demonstrate his displeasure. “—is that what happened?”

“More or less,” you mumbled into a face towel.

Jeno’s lips twitched as he patted his face dry. “Do I have to force it out of you?”

You lifted one shoulder to shrug.

“Wow, this is really bothering you if you’re this quiet,” he tilted his head, contemplating. “Was it Mark?”

“Be serious. Name one person at the party who hates Mark,” and you’d be crazy to not like the guy. Mark had never once done anything to warrant any negativity that could affect his person. He was probably one of the rare few who possessed a soul so pure that it was almost impossible for any hatred to fester in one’s heart. Hating Mark was like hating puppies for simply wagging its tail, happy to see you. Ridiculous.

Jeno’s nose wrinkled when he couldn’t name anyone. “Yeah, no. You’re right. Jimin, then?”

Jimin had her fair share of trouble in regards to people thinking badly about her; rooted from jealousy, of all things—insanely gorgeous Jimin. A charmer, not just by her sheer beauty, but also because of how approachable she was. A social butterfly—but her confidence in herself simply did not allow her to crumble underneath critical eyes just waiting to exploit a crack in her facade. She couldn’t care less of what the masses had to say about her, and you could only wish that you possessed some semblance of Jimin's self-assurance.

You shook your head, sighing deeply as your bottom lip caught in between the worrying edges of your teeth before letting it free, shiny with spit. “You’d laugh at me if I told you.”

You received a milder version of a frown from that, though you did clock the lingering look he gave your mouth. “Hey, believe it or not, I actually care about your feelings, so I promise—” Jeno sealed it with a swift ‘x’ his finger drew above his heart. Cross my heart and hope to die “—that I won’t make fun of you.”

Ah, fuck it. It’d be like ripping a band-aid off. Quick, painless and, hopefully, easy.

“It was you,” you said, quiet at first and then you rolled your eyes up to the ceiling and repeated it a bit louder this time: “The girls—they were talking about you and ‘their time’ with you, which was fine at first before we—y’know,” you rolled your wrist to the air in front of you to gesticulate the exact situation you’ve found yourself with Jeno. It looked complicated, and neither of you could make sense out of it, so you gave up, folding your arms.

“Anyway, I just… didn’t like how they make it sound like that’s all you’re good for?” You winced. You could have worded it way better. “Like you’re some sex object with no thoughts or feelings—” oh my god, shut up. Shut up. Shut. Up. “and that essentially ruined my mood. Jesus. You should have heard how the girls were going on and on and on about your dick that could work miracles, apparently—actually, no, it would piss me off even more if I saw how uncomfortable you were, so I’m glad you weren’t there—what the hell are you smiling at?”

Jeno’s smile stretched—it’s a huge thing. Where it took up almost half of his face, eyes almost disappearing as it did, but they shone bright as ever. “You care about me,” he said, obviously delighted by the idea.

“Uh, no I don’t.”

Denying it didn’t shake him in the slightest. “Yes, you do.”

“You must’ve heard wrong.”

“I don’t know, my pure-tone audiometry scores have always been high.”

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you exhaled in defeat.

“I’m not,” Jeno laughed. “I’m just happy. I didn’t know you’d care this much about my rep. I already know that I am kind of a slut. That I got around a lot, and hearing you defend me and think I’m more than that… It’s—It’s really sweet of you.”

“Defend is kind of a stretch,” you admitted. The words left a sour after taste in your mouth that, for a second, if you were given the chance to turn back time, you would have done more. “I just stopped them from saying anything else.”

Sweet. That was the last word you’d ever thought of relating to your standing up for Jeno. You’ve been called many things when your bouts of aggression came out to play, especially when it came to your friends’ defense, but rarely anyone would call it, or you, sweet. Though, the way Jeno spoke it into existence… he seemed certain of his claim—mirrored it too—cheeks dusted a precious pink and lips curled in a curious blend of a bashful, yet gratified smile. Really, and if anything, he was the sweet one here. Jeno for sure had the face and disposition for it.

“Still, it’s something I really appreciate,” he assured, “I mean, you were thinking of me in that moment too, so by all means am I really flattered—”

“Oh, brother—”

“You’re a huge softie.” Jeno quickly scooped you up into his arms, much like how he did when you almost froze your nonexistent balls off from the creeping winter chill. Your cheek ended up being pressed to his chest once again, like Jeno just knew his pecs would calm you down which yeah. What the hell, sure. “Prickly on the outside, but soft and squishy on the inside.”

“You callin’ me a sea urchin?”

Jeno laughed. “Whatever you want—and, you care about me.”

You rolled your eyes. He’s never gonna let that go, was he? “Am I not supposed to?”

Jeno clicked his tongue. “I didn’t say that, but it’s nice to know that you do,” he said, voice doused with such tenderness that it didn’t come as a surprise that it bled through to show on his face, too.

“Yeah, well.” You evaded his gaze by gently pushing him away by the cheek, clearing your throat and hoping it would dissipate the climbing heat from your neck, up. Jeno’s arms fell from their secure hold around your waist, yet he still remained in close proximity—close enough that he might as well fuse himself to you. “If you’re done, I’m taking a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“Just take off your clothes before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a mock two-fingered salute.

The hot shower was a definite need in unwinding the tension in your shoulders. You retired to the living room after pulling on one of your looser sleep shirts and a pair of boy-shorts, and falling onto the couch in an ungraceful heap. You could very well pass out here, become Jeno’s problem to deal with while at it.

Speaking of, he sure was taking his sweet time.

“What’s taking so long,” you hollered. “Do you have a hot date or something?”

“Are you not my hot date?” He said and you whipped around, peering over the back of the couch where you could see Jeno in the kitchen, putting away the dishes and cutlery in their respective places.

“You got me there.” You gave him a flat look. “What are you doing?”

“I…” Jeno trailed off, prancing over to the fridge. “got you a cake.”

The main lights were off, the warmer accent lights providing an ample amount of light source. Watching Jeno move about, bathed in the soft glow, made the simple action of unboxing the dessert no bigger than the span of his hand more intimate than it should be. Maybe it was his apparent determination in making things more convenient for you was what had you looking at the sight with a rose-tinted lens. Or maybe you just wanted to eat the damn cake and heckling the guy was one way to get your hands on it faster.

“I don’t think it’s my birthday yet,” you said, charmed at the way he hobbled over with the said sweet treat, two dessert forks tucked into one of its sides in one hand and an empty wine glass to join you in drinking in the other. “Is this your way of making me feel better?”

“More or less,” Jeno acquiesced, carefully placing the dainty looking cake and glass on the table and then joining you in your comfort. “I know it’s still bothering you, but really, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

And it's just like Jeno to check up on you, really. Always so conscientious when it came to you—with the expense of himself being a later thought—that you were starting to find it difficult to keep him at arm's length at times. He was just… so good. So inherently kind to anyone without expecting anything in return. It’s one of the things you liked about him. A paragon of all things good in the world. Not that you would ever admit it to his face, though perhaps you softening up was enough for anyone to figure out where you stood.

“Wish you weren’t used to it, though.” You said with a sad smile, kicking your legs up to lay them across Jeno’s lap. “You have the right to be mad at being gossiped like that.”

“I kind of brought that upon myself.” Jeno snorted with a hand on his nape, following suit and scooting closer to you for more comfort, and so you could fit into his side more. “But enough of that. How was the party, honey?”

He got a light smack on the chest for his cheek, though your own smile betrayed your actions, finding Jeno’s constant hovering kind of sweet. “It was still fun, among other things. My bad for cutting it short and dragging you along.” Jeno waved you off of the guilt and you were really thankful that he wasn’t at all bothered by you calling it a night. “So, the cake?”

With a hand on your ankle, Jeno reached over to pick it up.

There was something funnier about SpongeBob now that you were watching it as an adult. The jokes that flew over your head making much more sense with a fully developed brain were significantly funnier, especially with the buzz the cheap wine you had stocked for future events. Guard down, your muscles relaxing and letting the stress accumulated from tonight wash away with each sip from your glass.

Handing you the bento sized treat, Jeno had the face of an absolute winner when you read what was written in cream frosting on top of the powder blue cake.

“‘I’m sorry for having loud sex’,” you managed to say through your giggles. “Very on the nose, Jeno Lee.”

“I realized that I never really said sorry for that until tonight.”

“And cake was the way to go? I thought the sex was your version of an apology?”

Jeno lifted one shoulder for a lazy shrug. “Everybody loves cake?” And well, he wasn't exactly wrong. You loved cake as the next person on their birthday did, and strangely enough, it felt like such. The word ‘sorry’ got smudged from dipping his finger into the loopy writing and then lifted it towards your mouth.

If it were any other day, you would have snorted and batted Jeno’s hand away in favor of getting a proper mouthful with a dessert fork. However, it could be that time (and Jeno) had worn down that hardass exterior of yours to a certain point that you had no problem giving in without having to argue; circling your fingers around his wrist as your lips parted to indulge him. As expected, it was sweet. Butter cream, you thought as the more your tongue swirled around Jeno’s finger, watching his eyes grow wide and his mouth slacken, the sweeter it tasted.

“Good?” Jeno asked, voice strained as he continued to watch you work your mouth almost the same way you would when you would give his cock the same treatment. He kind of looked like he wanted to eat you. Savor you, actually, like you were a piece of honeyed heaven Jeno had the privilege of having you melt all over his tongue and swallow your very essence until the last drop. It gave you a rush, to say the least. Not to mention an ego-boost when a man this gorgeous could be so gone just for you.

In the background, Squidward cried out, ‘oh no! He’s hot!’

“Mhm,” you hummed, letting his finger go with a lewd pop before sticking your tongue out to show that there was nothing of the creamy icing left. And to fluster him, mostly, and it worked. “Wanna try?”

’loud sex’ was the next to get smudged, leaving ‘I’m for having’ still intact which didn’t really make any sense at face value. Though taking a quick sweep of the current situation, you weren’t too far off from Jeno ‘having’ you.

Jeno wasn’t able to give a proper answer, much less a word, as you mirrored what he had done without letting him have a proper taste. He did, however, get a taste of your growing impatience; wiping the dollop of icing onto his bottom lip, hooking a finger down his bottom teeth and tugging lower, and then prying his mouth wide enough to slither your tongue in for a downright messy kiss, making him groan. Jeno tasted of sugar, cream and the mint of his toothpaste. You wanted more. You needed more.

So it’s not entirely your fault that you were fast to give in to your carnal desires and how lucky you were that Jeno was there to meet you half-way.

Ten minutes later, Jeno wrestled you down on the couch, mumbling, “I thought you were tired?” into your hot, wet pussy.

“Oh, I am,” you moaned, twisting your fingers into his mussed up hair as he worked two of his thick fingers into you alongside his tongue. “But I can’t really fall asleep like thi—is—shit—Jeno! Fuck!”

A pleased hum had you shuddering as the softness of your thighs squeezed around Jeno’s insistent head. He pulled back the second your insides squeezed his fingers and you let out a frustrated groan. There’s a lazy grin on his face, lower face damp with a nasty cocktail of spit and your slick and never had you seen a man look so damn proud of being messy. Then again, you’ve noticed a pattern whenever you guys fucked; Jeno liked dragging it out to the point it was messy, so that checked out.

“Sure you can.” You would kill for an orgasm right now. Maybe sitting on his face would do the trick. If you could overpower the musclehead. “You wanna test how many times I can make you cum ‘til you pass out?”

A tempting offer, sure, just so you could prove him wrong, but the need to cum easily swayed your decision. That could be discussed and experimented on next time. You told him that much with a slight threatening edge to your tone, all the while canting your hips as you pushed his head down to get on with it. Though it seemed like Jeno was in a particularly stubborn mood tonight.

“Any reason why you’re being such an asshole?” you groused, still actively trying with all your might to suffocate him with your pussy, but he still wouldn’t budge. “I want to cum. Make me cum.”

“Oh, I know you do.” Jeno’s fingers were still buried in your wet heat, his cheek resting against your inner thigh. “But that depends on what you’re willing to do for me.”

Your pout deepened. “You used to be so nice.”

Jeno hummed, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I’m not hearing any offers.”

“A blowjob.”

“Oh c’mon, we both know you can do better than a blowjob,” he teased. “Besides, your gag reflex is almost non-existent—which, you’re welcome, by the way—where’s the fun in that?” And Jeno looked pretty smug about the changes he had trained into you.

“Two blowjobs,” you muttered, cheeks flaming hot because he wasn't exactly saying shit just to be funny.

The first time you got in between his thighs to suck his dick as thanks for the handful of times he ate the fuck out of you had been a disaster that if Jeno hadn’t stopped you from forcing yourself to swallow more of him, you would have ruptured your esophagus. In short, you had never been so mortified in your twenty-or-so years of living, ever, until that very day. Though the miscalculation was easily fixed after some time, gradually earning back your ‘pro-cocksucker’ title, from Jeno’s gentle, yet firm, guidance.

You really couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes. Or the fact that the absence of muscle memory almost got you killed.

“Do you wanna cum or not?”

“I’ll—“ you swallowed thickly as he curled his fingers, and then let out a soft, broken moan when his thumb worked slow circles around your clit. “I’ll ride you.”

Jeno visibly deflated as if he hadn’t been reduced to a desperate whining thing whenever you bounced on it like the many times before. “Any other offers?”

“What is this?” you groaned. The thing that got you the most was how casually Jeno spoke as if seeing you in this state; rendering you into putty wasn’t affecting him at all. “An auction for me to cum?” Well, there was one last trump card you had saved when time calls for desperate measures.

“Going once.” Jeno wiggled his eyebrows with a stupid grin. “twice—”

“Fine! I’ll ride you raw.”

Jeno, who was about to dip in for a kiss, froze, then let out an aborted laugh. “I didn’t say ‘give me a heart attack’. Jeez, it’s never delicate with you, huh? Always straight to the point.” You did become a different entity when you wantsomething, so he was somewhat right.

He took a good look at you just in case you were pulling his leg, which you understood, considering you were adamant with the usage of condoms even on birth-control. The fact that you laid still was enough of a clue-in that you were serious. Your roommate seemed to understand this and nodded, lowering himself to plant a quick and tender kiss above your eyebrow.

“Deal.”

And went lower and lower, buried his face deep into where you fingers tangled in his hair guided him towards and ate you out until the fruits of Jeno’s incessant mouth saturated his face all the way down to his neck.

“Our poor couch,” you laughed, breathless and hyperaware of the wet warmth dribbling out of your cunt; a lewd mixture of his cum and your slick sliding down Jeno’s thighs and effectively widening the stain’s circumference previously left before you had swung a shaky leg over his lap to act on your end of the deal.

“Definitely seen way too many things.” Jeno, who had his head resting on the top of the couch’s cushions huffed in amusement, lifted one eye open to indicate he had been listening. “It’s your turn to pay for steam-cleaning.”

It was such an unfunny sentence. An instant boner-killer if you were in the middle of fucking, yet the sluggish delivery had you laughing, loud and unrestrained, tucking your face into the crook of his neck to smother your giggles.

Aside from it being another inside joke birthed from conning him into paying for the first ever one, it did eventually become a once or twice a month’s occurrence when you didn’t bother moving the sex to somewhere more private like, let’s say, either of your bedrooms. Actions came with their own sets of consequences, yet you always found room to find humor in them. Embarrassing as they may be.

“At this point we should just buy a new one, don’t you think?” you wondered as you withdrew from your makeshift hiding place and pulled him in for a quick, but lingering kiss. It wasn’t enough for him, it looked like, chasing after your lips. Jeno didn’t get too far, with you playfully yanking him back by the hair to smile cheekily at him. “I’m starting to think you like dirtying our couch. Marking your territory, puppy?”

Jeno stayed quiet, but the reddening of his cheeks was very telling.

“Oh my God.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Listen—“

“Puppy—oh my goodness—that’s really precious,” you cooed, the same way Jaemin would if his end-goal was to annoy someone to the point they would consider inflicting bodily harm. “Maybe Hyuck was onto something.”

“Do not talk about another man while I’m inside you,” Jeno whined. “You’re horrible. Get off me. I don’t like you right now.”

“I said it was precious.” He didn’t even have the heart to reject a quick peck on the lips. “I think it’s cute—that you look like Dozy.”

Despite the clear displeasure, his response to your nails scratching at his scalp was almost instantaneous; he relaxed, sagging against the cushions to bask in the undivided attention you showered him with. He could very much fall asleep like this; your warm weight making him sink into the soft clutches of the sofa with your magic fingers weaving all of the stress out of him.

Which meant you wanted something, if you were being nicer than what Jeno was usually used to.

“You want something,” he voiced the thought, squeezing your hips. “What is it?”

And there it was: a smile that said you were about to get what you want. “I was being serious about a new couch.”

Jeno let his head fall back once more, pretty eyes slipping closed as he let out a puff of breath. “Okay. We’ll get a new one.”

The couch came less than two weeks later.

You weren’t religious by any means, but you sent your silent gratitude to God anyway for blessing your eyes with the wonderful view of your roommate studying the manual with eyebrows knit together in concentration and a matching sweet pout.

“You are so sexy to me right now,” you said from where you sat on the floor.

The TV was on, but neither of you were paying attention to the happenings of a show that had caught both your attention when you sourced the internet for any TV show recommendations. This one looked promising; action packed gore with an interesting enough story-line (Jeno’s words) and the rugged machismo of the drool-worthy male main character supporting it (your words), yet those factors weren’t enough to keep your attention span from waning when Jeno—less rugged, but still so devastatingly gorgeous—was about to assemble your new couch.

He responded in kind with a snort and a half-hearted roll of his eyes. “We both know damn well you’re only saying that because I paid for the entire thing.” A hand made its way to perch on his hip too and your greedy eyes drank in the way his muscles rippled from the movement.

You gnawed on the knuckle of your forefinger. Good lord.

In hindsight, Jeno was half right. Sweet-talking him could increase the chances of you running scot-free of doing any heavy work, and maybe Donghyuck had hit the nail on the head with the whole thing about stability being what you needed because what was more attractive than a man readily dropping that much money for a couch without thinking twice? Looking absolutely darling swathed in pastel blue sheets you convinced him to get, deep in a fervent search for a good replacement with his personal laptop perched above his thighs, and with you tucked into his side as a pretty accessory that would occasionally voice opinions.

For someone who didn’t sound too enthusiastic searching the world wide web for furniture, he sure was hell-bent on countering any of your sales pitch every time your eyes would land on a probable couch replacement. The heavy debate—for a fucking couch, of all things—lasted almost two hours, both of you at your wits end until you found one that ticked every requirement that had been brought up; namely, how the L-shape design granted much more space and how easy it would be to clean by yourselves.

There was a thoughtful pull to Jeno’s face as he cycled through the available colors. “Please tell me that’s the one.”

Jeno had made an affirmative noise. “Can you hand me my debit card?”

You had beamed and hopped to it, smugly handing him the piece of plastic with a haughty cross of your arms.

“I did offer to split the cost,” you countered good-naturedly, resting your chin on top of your folded arms and watching on in appraisal as Jeno got to work. “And offered to pay extra to get some people to assemble it for us but—”

“I can do it myself, thank you very much,” he grumbled, seemingly put off by the thought of you having to watch strangers with the same intensity as he was experiencing now. It puts a smile on your face. A smug little thing because nothing brightens your day than getting underneath Jeno’s skin when you could. A sulky Jeno, you’ve come to find out, was possibly the cutest gift to mankind since puppies and kittens and exploiting the otherwise infrequent possessive streak he claimed to not have was honestly gratifying when he could have anyone and everyone.

“Yeah? Your muscles aren’t just for show?”

He shot you a bland look. “You have first-hand experience, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you feigned thinking it over, tapping your chin with a finger. “Maybe I need a reminder. Care for a hands-on demonstration?”

Jeno shook his head with a soft grin. “Later. Think you could sit pretty without being a distraction until I’m done?”

The offhanded compliment left a warm glow to unfurl within your chest. From there, it spread to just about everywhere. Your cheeks, for one as Jeno just had the knack for flustering you, fizzling out to pleasant tingles reaching the ends of your toes and fingers. You were quite possibly losing it and yet Jeno has shifted his attention, completely honing in on fixing up the couch before sundown if and if you spare him of being a—his distraction.

“I’ll try,” you relented in almost a whisper. Jeno heard, of course, nodding slowly in response and once you were sure that was that, you rushed to the kitchen to whip something up for you both and shake off whatever that was.

Jeno took no time at all to get it all set up and it was a wonder why the manual when it was pretty straight forward, but you have your couch and you didn’t waste any time to settle down with Jeno for your early evening dinner.

Things promptly escalated the moment your plates were wiped clean. From your pawing at Jeno’s face, still wound up from the whole handyman thing, to unanimously deciding that you should probably take this to the bedroom. To whose bedroom became sort of a guessing game. Not one of you was entirely aware when it was important, but really, who was counting when it would always lead to sex anyway?

On a similar note, It was a miracle by itself that your combined bodily fluids hadn’t turned your old couch into a biohazard. The old thing has been through the wringer since you and Mark had bought it off of Craigslist with your first paycheck and retiring the old girl was just the right thing to do.

Bumping into things along the way, clothes ripped off in haste, like a hurricane tore through the hallway and your bedroom; as rushed as it all was, the sex was surprisingly on the more tender side of things tonight, which wasn’t uncommon, though those ‘tender’ times were mostly rooted from lazy morning sex; but it wasn’t quite that either. Jeno still fucked like he means it, that won’t ever change. Always precise with his movements wherein you would often joke inside your head that the Mathematics nerd in him probably calculated everything in his head, maximizing the output of pleasure jolting through your veins. Shit like that.

Your enjoyment, comfort, pleasure above everything else—that’s what sex was like with Jeno and granted, he got off from you getting off.

Well, most of the time.

Jeno didn’t give any warning when he rolled the both of you over, forcing a gasp out of you from the feeling of his cock plunging deeper and nudging against the spot that sent a hot flash of pleasure up your spine.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I like you on top.”

“Oh, I bet.” You gripped around his girth like a vice, earning you a grunt and a hiss as the flesh of your hips dimple under the force of his long fingers. “You like having me do all the work?”

“I like—I like looking at you,” he admitted, breathless and face stricken with awe as he gazed upon you. Rough hands smoothed down from your hips to your ass then to your tensed thighs and encouraged you to take what you want with light measured strokes. “You’re even more beautiful like this.” Jeno’s breath hitched when you rocked back and forth, his breathing becoming more and more uneven with each sway of your hips.

“Drives me crazy sometimes. That you’re real. That you’re mine.”

The sincerity in his tone wasn’t anything new. How he looked saying that though… It’s something else entirely. There must be something in the air, perhaps due to the change of season as the temperature slowly climbed its way down to the negatives. You glimpsed outside the window and sure enough, flurries of white were making their floaty decent. The first snow fall of the year. Normally, you would be in a rush to get up close and personal, feel the biting cold of each snowflake kiss your cheeks.

By the looks of it, however, you don’t suppose you’d be able to get up any time soon. Not when Jeno’s strained grip on the gentle dips of your waist anchored you in place.

Mine.

You should be used to it. You’ve lost count of the times you would catch Jeno staring and if it were any other time, he would have ducked his head, pink in the face and embarrassed by the habit. That was the last thing he was in this moment, the foreign glean nestled within the depths of his rich gaze held no semblance to his would-be bashful state when he openly marveled at you.

Jeno was no stranger to seeing you bare of anything. He’s probably seen you naked more than you were clothed and yet his half-lidded eyes bore into your skin as if he was stripping each layer, trying his damnedest in finding a crack to slip under and see what you kept from anyone. It scared you, in a way that you wouldn’t really mind if he flayed you open and carved a space for himself in between your ribs, right next to you beating heart.

You were hot all over. Well, hotter than you were prior and stickier. Whether it was due to the nuisance you bedded on the regular showing that all control was reigned by Jeno still—feet planted on the bed, meeting each and every downstroke with increased intensity by his a heavy-handed guidance, showing you how he liked it—or having the very same man as a singular audience, but with a gaze as imposing as a crowd deep in the reverence of their worship. So intimate that the hair at the back of your neck rose at Jeno’s easy smile—sweet. Sickeningly so. All too consuming—and how easy it was for him to look at you like that.

It was too much.

You felt impossibly bare than you were in the moment, vulnerable under Jeno’s searching eyes that you started to shake, and a whimper, bordering on a sob, broke free from your tightly clamped mouth as your resolve gradually broke down. Fortunately, Jeno didn’t think too deeply on the matter, taking it as you simply wrung out from burning most of your energy (and desperate to cum) as he sat up just as you were about to fall forward. He gathered you in his arms and flipped you both over, making sure you landed gently and minding your head, no matter how plush the pillows were.

That brought forth another rush of feelings making it harder to breathe as your roommate settled with a paced rhythm. Slow, deep, purposeful where, for a second, you started to believe your insides would have to mold around the shape of his cock, where it left Jeno to be the only one capable of filling you to the brim. There was a tell-tale sting beneath your eyelids. You couldn’t even remember squeezing your eyes shut, but you were glad for the knee-jerk response kicking in. The stinging was felt in your nose too, and you were all choked up the next second when you met Jeno’s heady gaze.

You had to thank the heavens that timing was on your side for once, because at one pointed roll of Jeno’s pelvis you came crashing down with a shrill cry. Tears streamed hotly down the sides of your face as you let out a wet moan, crushing your nose into the crook of his neck while his movements gradually went from measured to frantic as he pulled you impossibly close to him, and fucked you to completion.

There was someone calling after you. Jeno sounded so far away until the gentle pats on your cheek reeled you back. It took a few seconds for you to refocus your vision the moment you opened your eyes. Catching your attention first was the concerned furrow of your roommate’s eyebrows, down to his eyes rounded with the same emotion, the corners of his mouth pulled taut.

He said your name again. “Are you okay?” Jeno asked with his hands cupping your cheeks as the pads of his thumbs wiped the remnants of the salty tracks beneath your eyes away. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, definitely not hurt,” you croaked, snorting softly at the dubious look on his face. “Just… overwhelmed.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Your answer was quick. “Good.” Jeno was unconvinced by the looks of it, but you reassured him when you covered one of his hands with yours. “Trust me, I’m a nurse. I would know if you did hurt me.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

That got Jeno to chuckle, the tension visibly leaving his broad shoulders as he sighed. “Yeah, okay. You’re totally fine if you’re talking like that.” He bent down to press his lips to your eyebrow for a few seconds before he sat right back up. “Right, I’ll be right back. Want something to drink? Eat?”

The warmth Jeno’s touch provided stayed even when pulling his hands away. “Just water’s fine, thank you.”

Jeno left the room after making himself half-decent, pulling up a pair of clean boxer briefs, leaving you alone to will your frantic heartbeat into slowing down as you curled around his pillow, pulling it close to your chest.

“...he’s one of my more interesting patients so far. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought that damn phone of his was an extension of his arm.”

So far so good. Jeno hadn’t questioned you once about the moment you had and went about the usual post-sex groove of aftercare and clean up. That at least helped you out of that weird headspace you were in and you weren’t as keyed up as you were while you told Jeno about an interesting week you had at the hospital.

A college senior who had sustained a collapsed lung from a multiple-vehicle collision. While the case itself wasn’t interesting considering you had scrubbed in to deal with cases similar to the twenty-two-year-old’s, the patient himself was. Normally, you weren’t one to prolong any conversation with inpatients, though you supposed his weaponized cuteness was effective enough that the Hippocratic oath had been momentarily forgotten as he expanded on what he had overheard from the Nurse’s Station right outside his room.

At the end of the day, he was still a stranger and the most intimate interaction you’ve had with him was cleaning his stitches, changing his dressings and reminding him of his care plan. Even then, he had no place in your personal life where you’d mull over the consequences of telling him. Once Dr. Kim gave him the clear to go home, you probably won’t see him again.

“I only gave him your first name, but he already found you on Instagram.” You burrowed yourself further under the thick covers. “He said he ‘approved’ of you. Whatever that means.” With a giggle, you shifted so you laid on your side and came face to face with Jeno already looking at you with those eyes of his, the same way he did when he had you bent over the coffee table.

Your heart stuttered for a moment, gracing him with a wry smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jeno, perpetually pretty no matter the situation, and confused, batted his eyelashes—on purpose or not, you weren’t too sure—full lips jutting out further into a pout. “Like what?”

“Like—” Like that. Like I’m everything. Jeno, for as long as you’ve known him, had this sense of wonder in him. Maybe that was the reason why his eyes, more often than not, lingered for what was considered socially acceptable, yet you couldn’t get why you were always the subject of his fascination, nor why you deserved such gentleness from a guy like him. You’ve always thought he would be much better off with someone who’s less of a hardass; someone good, someone—anyone who didn’t share the ugly parts of you that were ‘too much’ to handle.

“Just—” I just don’t get it. I don’t think I want to get it. “I’m going to gouge your eyes out.”

He closed his eyes, exasperated. “Do not do that? Maybe?”

“No promises,” you said blithely, turning your back to him and baffled, wondering why your face—out of nowhere—felt so hot to the touch, why your heart raced. Why now of all times? Pillow talk wasn’t anything new. Sharing the bed was a regular happenstance. It was normal. This was normal, but why were you acting like a total school girl about it?

All the niggling thoughts came to a screeching halt at the feeling of Jeno’s arm going over your middle to pull you in, letting out an involuntary sigh as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

“Goodnight,” he said, trailing off in a hushed tone at the syllables of your name.

Eyes squeezed shut, you let out a deep breath. “Goodnight, Jeno.”

Pleased by your response, Jeno crowded impossibly closer until he was flush against your back, pressing his lips to your nape and relaxed after. His hand settled over the curve of your breast, the tips of his fingers splayed where it tapers flat and where your heartbeat was as its strongest. And If he could tell the difference between the gentle thumping of sixty beats per minute from what was considered abnormal, he didn’t bring it up and instead tucked his bent knees right behind yours.

Yeah. Totally normal.

Sleep evaded you, finding yourself awake in the dredges of the night unlike Jeno, who was off in the deepest end of slumber.

You didn’t know why or how you were awake. For as long as you were alive, nightmares were never a problem. Your dreams were on the weirder side, yes, but they never shocked you into lucidity. You didn’t have the need to pee, drink or have a quick whatever-the-fuck-time-is-it snack. You just were, unlike Jeno who had it easy, knocking out cold fifteen minutes tops no problem. Though dead asleep—even breaths with the slow rise and fall of his chest, laying flat on his back—it’s like Jeno can’t help but still face you, like you just had this magnetic pull that attracted each and every atom housing Jeno’s attention.

He looked so peaceful. It’s almost unfair he was still gorgeous in this state, mouth open and all. Handsome face void of anything that would sour the appeal which wasn’t possible. It’s as if he simply wasn’t allowed to be ugly, wasn’t allowed to lack in areas he was known for, wasn’t allowed to be less than perfect. A burden, weighing on yourself more than it did Jeno, you had resigned to when you couldn’t find it in yourself to come up with things to complain about.

Jeno existed and you were fine with it. Jeno, stubborn but meant well Jeno, found plenty of ways of integrating himself in your space and you were fine with it. Each second, each minute and each hour, Jeno was there and somehow, you didn’t think it was enough. Even as the hours stretched out into days, weeks. Months. Would it be so bad if Jeno was there—here with you for years to come?

Then it hit you all at once—like a shock to your heart, granting you with a clarity so startling that you looked at Jeno. Like, really took him in as much as you were able to in the dim glow of the full moon filtering through the sheer curtains.

Since when did wanting absolutely nothing to do with Jeno evolved into wanting him all to yourself? You couldn’t put the entire blame on him. Sleeping with Jeno (and regularly at that) was a risk you were very familiar with. No thanks to your gargantuan AO3 history when fan-fiction was the only thing that kept you going through the grueling college experience. Friends-with-benefits had been a filter staple that guessing which outcome you’d get became sort of a game. Some good, some bad and some were so emotionally devastating that you swiped back and pretended pain never existed.

Now that you wore the shoes of every FWB protagonist, you weren’t too sure of what the endgame could be. You could admit that you went in blind with the false pretense of it being a temporary set-up when either of you grew bored of each other. But the months had bled from one to the other and it was still you and Jeno, and whatever flat surface there was left to defile.

From the gentle sweep of his eyelashes, the bridge of his strong nose, the perpetual pout of his lips with sharp angles and soft contours framing all of that—that right there was a face you wouldn’t hate waking up to in the mornings to come. Better if those mornings weren’t just the aftermath of a wild night, but nights where one of you would grow tired from finishing a few episodes of a gory thriller before eleven PM. Nights where one of you would stay up waiting for the other to get back from overtime. Or nights where you simply would spend hours just laying in bed all warm and cuddled up before sleep inevitably took you.

And as you laid on your side, eyes boring into Jeno’s sleeping face, hoping that you get the good ending out of this messy start, you knew you were absolutely truly and well fucked.

VI.

“If you stay the night, you could change my mind.”

You were five seconds away from killing yourself.

You’ve been here before. More times than you would have preferred, if you had to be honest, where Mark and yourself would set up camp on the island counter. A large plate of something to snack on (cookies this time) doubling as a conversation buffer and keeping Mark occupied while you’d do most of the talking.

Not a word has been said. Not a peep. Zero. Nada. Zilch. Mark’s unease with your unusual silence was made apparent by his treacherous balancing on two of the wooden barstool’s legs. Truly a perfect example why women lived longer than men.

Something was up. For one, you were tight-lipped, which wasn’t a good sign. Mark’s head would have been done in with your longwinded tangents right about now; where words would have lost their meaning as he eventually tuned you out. Which, sure, whatever. You always got straight to the point anyway and he only greenlights the ranting as it was a way for you to blow off some steam, no matter if it was the third time you’ve complained how impossible it was to unglue Jeno from his computer to eat.

Mark didn’t need to think too long about the possibilities. He got his answer right as the front door opened.

“Hey, Mark.”

Though he wasn’t at all prepared for the awkward as fuck silence. One could imagine Mark’s surprise when you didn’t spare your roommate the acknowledgement as you pointedly kept your attention on the plate of chocolate chip cookies.

Jeno sounded pleasant enough, yet you went stiff when he shuffled into the kitchen, grabbing himself a bottle of kombucha. The side-eye you got from Mark was diabolical, yet he returned Jeno’s greeting with his usual brightness as if to assure him that nothing was amiss. Both men left it at that and Jeno quickly disappeared behind his door with a click, letting you relax.

You flinched when Mark did a full body turn so fast that it could rival the speed of light, his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Dude, what the hell did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

Mark’s gaze turned sharp and stared at you like you were stupid. Maybe you were. No, you definitely were, with all things considered. “Jeno ignored you,” he hissed. “He’s never that petty. Donghyuck treats pissing him off like an olympic sport and you’ve never seen Jeno lose his cool. He’d let you know if you’re pushing it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because Jeno could just punch the shit out of you. Have you seen him?”

“Jeno’s hot bod has nothing to do with this—and stop changing the subject!” Mark snapped, swiping a cookie from the tray, took a bite and jabbed the remaining half in your direction accusingly with a muffled: “something happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“That’s exactly what people say when something has happened,” Mark quipped, crumbs flying out of his mouth. “I bet you did something.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“And if I stab you with this cookie?”

“Do it, you won’t,” you challenged. “You can’t. Because it’s a fucking cookie.”

His gaze narrowed and for a second, you believed he’d figured out a way to weaponize a food of all things.

“You’re giving me gray hairs here,” he popped half of the sweet treat into his mouth instead, biting down with an audible crunch. “Why’d you call me over anyway?”

“Because of that,” you said with a resigned sigh, pointing to the direction of Jeno’s room. “And I called for your girlfriend, actually—y’know, for a change, but you showed up instead, so.”

“Oh.” Mark blinked, shoulders relaxing. “well, she’s out at the moment. Took Ziggy to her grooming appointment so she sent me.” She sent me, he said like he was simply there to carry out her responsibilities when she couldn’t, no questions asked. Which, yeah, maybe—but not exactly. Mark was just game for anything (more when his girlfriend is involved), though it brought you great relief that he loved her that much to potentially be an extension of herself. Jealousy would be the death of you one day.

That’s not to say you were happy by the circumstances. You were expecting girl-time, and here you were given a man that was considered a stand-in during your bi-weekly Girls’ Night. Close enough.

Momentary panic crossed his face when you let a grimace slip through. “Try me! I’m wise enough.”

You scoffed. “Your wisdom is about the size of a grain.”

“And yet I’m the one in a stable relationship,” he pressed. “I think I’m qualified to tell you things.”

“Fuck you,” you groused. Because he was right, and nothing grinds your gears more than Mark Lee being right while dangling his picture-perfect love life right in front of your face.

You were well acquainted with the intricacies of Murphy’s Law: anything that can go wrong will go wrong, and the start of your downfall happened a few mornings after the earth-shattering realization that you had not only desired Jeno carnally, but also desired him… not-so-platonically. You felt sick to your stomach just thinking about it. Or maybe those were butterflies partying it up in your guts because they obviously were still you in some way: ridiculously enamored by a gorgeous man.

The morning had been a quiet affair. Quieter than usual, is what you could describe the chilly start of your Saturday. Quieter than what you were used to even with the groggy aftermath of last night, though you were sufficiently energized for the regularly scheduled back-and-forth before the stillness fell in place again, with the exception of the range hood sucking up all the smoke from what sizzled on the pan.

It was your day-off and Jeno still had the luxury of whether or not he’d go to the office unless necessary. From the lackadaisical slump to his frame, you figured he had all the time in the world today.

“Isn’t this mine?” Words came first and actions followed with Jeno’s arms winding loosely around your waist, one of his hands tugging at the hem of his hoodie you pulled out from his wardrobe, his chin hooked over your shoulder.

You woke up freezing that day and the weather application had said to bundle up, so you ended up clawing through his clothes since you did end up falling asleep in his room. It just so happened his hoodie was the first thing you had blindly grabbed in haste. Your feet were quick to get cold, so you made the detour to your room for your thickest and fluffiest pair of socks. Sure the look of the herringbone flooring was nice, but lord did it almost freeze your toes off.

Jeno simply hummed when you told him so, lingered for a moment, then left you to do your thing with a gentle pat to your tummy and started on both your coffees.

“What? No tea for me?” You mused when he took two mugs out from the cupboard, one of them being your favorite one, and plucked out two pods from the stack of them, no teabag in sight. “I thought you were trying to wean me off of coffee?”

“I’m feeling generous today,” he said with a teasing lilt and left it at that, and you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Your stomach grumbled as the last of the modest spread of food was placed on the dining table, wincing at the terrible screech the chair made when you scooted closer. Sweetened medium roast hits your nostrils, your favorite coffee mug emitting a dull ‘thunk’ when Jeno placed it right beside your hand.

“You made it just how I like it,” you said after a tentative sip, lips pressed against the mug’s rim.

Jeno snorted softly as he reached for the maple syrup. “You notice that now? Were the coffees I made for you each morning different from that one?” He nodded towards your cup.

“No. I guess I never really had the time to think about it,” you admitted, sheepish. “I don’t remember showing you how, either.”

“You didn’t have to,” Jeno shrugged, feeding himself a forkful of the fluffy scrambled eggs. He hummed in delight. Just how he liked it. “I watched you make it a few times, it’s really not that complicated.”

You often rushed through mornings at home to judge whether or not the morning coffee on the counter was up to taste. The ratio between bitter and sweet? Who has the time when you’ve got to get to the hospital before you do your rounds? Still, you had a window of a few minutes to notice how Jeno had waited each time for you to get a few sips in before transferring your coffee into a thermos to take on your way out. You don’t remember getting a thermos. One in your favorite color either. Christ, were you having a goddamn meltdown at the dining table?

“You’re always rushing in the morning,” Jeno explained and proved once again that he was quite the observer. “‘figured I’d make your mornings a bit more convenient.”

And there it was: the convenience of it all.

While, yes, work had left you exhausted like never before, it also had been a small act of mercy that had kept you distracted and away from the demons that were waiting to be acknowledged. Those demons being anything in relation to the current predicament you were facing: Jeno. Your shifts at the hospital had been draining enough as it was that there was never any free time to think about anything.

Statistics had kept its annual consistency in seeing a significant increase in casualties the closer it got to the most wonderful time of the year. People in a perpetual state of haste in hopes of getting everything in order before the holidays. You might as well find a permanent place in the trauma department from the amount of overtime you did that your brain had been stuck in work mode until the patient influx had dwindled down.

Sure, you’ve managed to survive what could be considered the hospital’s Annual Armageddon, but there was no way in hell were you going to survive the horrors that await: being alone with your thoughts.

This was where Jeno came in. Like a stream, your thoughts of him were continuous. They ebbed and flowed and it seemed there was no end to it. On some days, they would roll around in your head, or go round and around as a microwave would; heat up or explode; whichever would be better to your state of mind. The point was, despite wanting that part of your brain—the one responsible for filtering any Jeno-related thoughts—to stop thinking, you couldn’t. You could not stop daydreaming, could not stop the ‘what if’s’—what if this (whatever this is) could become something more?

Convenience was what led you to this point.

The convenience of Jeno being at the right place and the right time. Of him taking the very first step and dragging you into something that was supposed to be casual, no-strings-attached and nothing more. This entire thing was supposed to be just a convenience to you. Jeno was supposed to be a convenience to you; in a way he’d be there if you needed help, he’d be there to fuck when you wanted, be there for—well, being there, when you needed him to be and keep you company. But…

But.

As the days blended to the next, it—he became so much more than that.

Wanting more than what you already have has never been your style. One could give you a hand and you’d justify why grasping onto one or two fingers was more than enough. Perhaps it had something to do with how you were raised, at least, that’s what you had thought because as you sat across Jeno, ignorant of being the very cause of your tumultuous state of mind, greed reared its ugly head.

It rose up your throat—that thick, all-consuming feeling of wanting something so much to the point of insanity. What should have been casual evolved into something more than what you bargained for, but you knew enough that there was nothing casual about not just wanting the convenience that came with Jeno. Nothing casual about wanting more than being another meager notch on Jeno’s bedpost. You wanted him—body, mind, soul and heart. And it’s not as if developing feelings wasn’t allowed. It was never brought up in the months the friends-with-benefits thing went on, sure, but it still felt… wrong.

Here you were, a handful of seconds away from baring your bleeding heart to him, only to pause when another thought occurred to you.

Did Jeno even want the same things you did?

No.

Definitely not.

You had no business asking about the other girls he could be seeing, but it was made clear Jeno was fully committed to follow the lifestyle of a Casanova. Being tied down wasn’t likely part of his plans as of the moment. More or less, you were probably just a phase he was slowly trying to get out and you wouldn’t be the one forcing him into settling down. Even so, it still hurts, that you will never be anything more than just a friend he gets to fuck on the regular.

And admitting that was a blow to your chest, really—like it caved in on itself, the jagged pieces of your rib cage piercing your heart. You had no idea how to make it less painful as you shot a longing look in your roommate’s direction who remained oblivious to your internal war against yourself and your feelings.

That day was seared into the recesses of your brain. How Jeno looked when you had told him this couldn't go on any longer, that you should stop, all the while being in the comfort of his embrace while you washed the dishes.

Your hands went rigid under the stream of water from the tap as Jeno stiffened behind you. Slowly you turned around in place, only for a wounded noise to lodge itself in your throat at the stricken look on his face. Confused, lost… hurt? Maybe? No, that wasn’t it. Disappointed was more apt, losing another conquest could do that to a guy, you think, could do that to you, if you were being honest; losing something that could have been good for you.

“Why?” he croaked.

“It—It just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

In a sense that sleeping with him while harboring so much warmth and fondness for a man so gentle and kind felt like you were taking advantage of him: that if you couldn’t have his heart, then his body would be the balm to soothe the burn reality left you with. You felt so much for Jeno Lee, but you knew you deserved better than this, that you were more than a placeholder for the person who would get the opportunity of a lifetime having him wholly, and he deserved better than unknowingly taking part in your desire-fueled fantasies of domesticity.

Sweet Christ, look at you. There must be something wrong with your brain if the synapse of neurons made you sound like some no-name poet from the Romantic Period. Or maybe you were ovulating, but that was neither here nor there.

The silence made you want to crawl out of your skin. You’ve never known a silence so uncomfortable and that was saying something when Mom raised hell the morning after she had opened the door to your childhood bedroom and found you with a boy. She was eerily silent after Dad had told you a less than flowery rendition of ‘The Birds and The Bees’, and from then on, you’ve learned to never piss off Mom—or ask Dad to explain in that clinical way of his.

Things should have returned to their normal state now that casual sex was off the table; how they should have been if you weren’t the least bit attracted to your roommate, or if you knew better than to let lust cloud your better judgement. With how life has been treating you lately, it won’t ever be that simple. Not when lines were crossed over and over again.

“We’re okay, right?” You had asked Jeno one day. Just for the hell of it. The answer was pretty fucking obvious when he sat at the farthest end of the couch, putting as much distance as he could.

It took a moment or two for your ex-fuck-buddy to answer in that gruff way of his when the last thing he wanted to do in this moment was make small-talk with the girl that cramped his style which, okay. Fair enough. You wouldn’t want to talk to yourself either.

“Yeah,” he said, looking straight ahead and his face drawn into a careful mask of neutral. “why wouldn’t we be?”

Because you won’t look at me. You don’t want to be near me, like I carry the fucking plague, or you pretend that I’m not there even though I caught you glancing at me loads of times. Show me something else besides indifference. Because it’s like I’ve done something wrong, but I don’t know what it is. You won’t tell me. I don’t think you ever will, and it’s killing me. That I can’t even make things right.

There was a lot you wanted to say. You wanted to argue, never mind if all he had for you was eyes full of disdain as his voice, normally even and soft-spoken, rose and rose until it became a screaming match. At least then Jeno wouldn’t shut you out, if it meant trading peace for barbed conversations that would be uncomfortable at best because you’ve never experienced a silence so cold, and made apparent by the space between you.

You wouldn’t expect anything less when you took away Jeno’s blinding smiles. Always filled with warmth, it was proven hard to live without once you’ve gotten a taste, what it was like on the receiving end of his affections he had so easily given. Though you knew the sun would, at some point, take its blinding light somewhere else.

Shit pretty much hit the fan after that, and you’ve accepted that the not-so-but-still silent treatment was well deserved. Didn’t mean you had to like it because this was getting ridiculous.

It was like the world was out to get you for your unwarranted fuck-up. You thought Annual Armageddon was bad? Try another wave of that—double the amount of patients to the point you were forced to spend several nights camping in one of the designated on-call rooms.

Your peers had taken notice of your tank in mood, which wasn’t exactly a problem. Your work performance was still exceptional and up to the hospital’s standards, However, interns, residents, and attendings couldn’t really say the same. Not when they’ve taken the brunt of your less than stellar attitude. The interns especially, which you thought was necessary. If you want competent people running a hospital, instilling the fear of God in them would do the trick.

However, that did not go without consequences.

Karmic retribution had been quick to get your ass handed to you in the form of a grumpy geriatric who had lashed out after you told him he couldn’t be discharged just yet. He was still recovering from a hip replacement and wouldn’t be able to leave for a week at least; or if he made quick progress with physical therapy. The old man ripped you a new one even with the absence of your abrasiveness.

Needless to say, after quietly excusing yourself, you hid in the floor’s storage unit and cried.

As if that wasn’t enough, you almost cost Chenle his budding trauma surgeon career after an error that almost had his patient coding. He reassured you it was fine, that you were okay after the apologies spilled from your lips once the clock stopped, but you knew he was taking this harder than you were, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Understandable. It was Chenle’s first ever solo surgery with Dr. Qian’s supervision and you almost fucked it up for him.

You had also hid and cried, a common theme these days.

All because you were still preoccupied with the awkward situation at home (if you can still call the apartment that), still hurt that you were back to square one with your roommate who refused to step foot into the same room as you.

“You were right,” you ground out as you untied the surgical mask. There were specs of blood on your O.R issued scrubs and a damp and warm spot somewhere along the hem of your pants that you refused to acknowledge until you were in the showers.

It had been one rough case after another; this particular one with Sungchan had the team searching for the source of the bleeding longer than it usually took. It left you tired and in dire need of a scalding shower. You wanted to go home and forget the antiseptic smell of the O.R with the hint of iron that had squirted onto anyone that had stood close to the sterile field.

“With what?” Sungchan was just a harrowed, looking a little less put together being the one who held the suction as you helped Dr. Jung patch up the rupture.

“You know what.” The whole casual sex thing biting me back in the ass? But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of reminding him.

Sungchan blinked, then squinted, tilting his head. “No I don’t, actually.”

The metal bin makes a clang as you roughly shoved inside the single-use gown and gloves. You stood to your full height, looked him dead in the eyes and repeated gravely: “you were right,” and started walking, leaving him there staring at your back, wildly confused.

“With what?!”

This was definitely some form of punishment. It had to be. It’s no coincidence that it started right when Jeno decided to minimize any sort of contact and it wasn’t as if you tried to gain back what you once had before you decided top open your big fat mouth and said ‘hey, maybe we should stop fucking around and act like normal housemates!’. You really did, offering home-cooked meals as an olive branch, placing orders for his favorite snacks on rotation, doing his laundry. Folding them too without being told to—stuff like that. You even venmo’ed him half of what he spent for the couch.

If he had a hand in making the smaller inconveniences of life easier, might as well do the same for him too.

It did something. Sort of melted the icy wall he put up, low enough where clipped conversations were had at least. Still, your roommate had still kept his distance, not to mention his smile wasn’t quite the same. You hadn’t expected him to take it that hard and for a moment, you thought that perhaps there was a chance that he may also—no way. You immediately bat that train of thought away. He probably just missed the idea of having a warm body within his reach.

Which was a funny possibility when you missed him. Just as much, definitely more than just his body which was surprisingly easy to admit. You really never learn to value something once you’ve carelessly let it slip it through your fingers—until it was too late, and fuck do you miss Jeno. Having him close in a way; in the kitchen, dancing around each other as either breakfast, lunch dinner heats away on the stove. Doing the separating of whites, blacks, greys and color for laundry when your schedules align. Recuperating on the couch after a long day, preferably, with your head on Jeno’s lap while he ran nimble fingers through your hair.

You missed the easy companionship solidified by living together and you were so fucking scared that you might lose that too.

It took some time getting used to, walking into a quiet apartment again. No six foot something tall man with puppy eyes’ head popping up from the couch with a smile so warm you wouldn’t know what the cold felt like balls deep into the winter season.

The apartment was warm though, the thermostat set at a desired toasty temperature matching the warm glow of the accent lights as you padded deeper into the clean space. Not a thing was out of place. Cleaner, definitely, judging by the neatly arranged cushions on the couch and a throw blanket you had picked out with him tastefully draped over the arm rest. Jeno’s doing, no doubt.

Walking into the kitchen got your stomach rumbling, reminding you of how hungry you were. The last thing you ate was a haphazardly put together turkey sandwich you had made in a rush that morning, along with your coveted coffee in a thermos, which—you’ve just realized—had never stopped coming. Each and every morning on days where you had work, they waited to be taken along without fail. Meaning there was still a chance of whatever there was left to pick up from this mess you’ve made.

But coffee, though tempting, wasn’t what you needed right now, nor did you think it would stop your tummy’s incessant growling. Exhausted as you were, you were determined to whip up something quick yet filling. Like a vegetable omelet, or something, with a few slices of sour bread toast. There was still a tub of kimchi Mark’s mom had asked (well, demanded) him to give you. Yeah, your mouth was already watering at the thought of a hot, home cooked meal.

Your backpack falls heavily onto one of the dining chairs, an aran-knit cardigan you wore under your padded coat slung over behind it. You reached for the sky to stretch. Damn, you’d kill for another hot shower, but food first, then you could wash away the weight from today and hopefully knock right out into a dreamless sleep.

Halfway towards the refrigerator was where you noticed it, one singular thing off about the otherwise spotless kitchen: the lone saucepan sitting on top of one of the burners. It’s the one you used when you had three or more people coming over for dinner. You were no stranger finding Jeno playing chef in the kitchen considering he had more time on his hands where his work had a more sporadically built schedule. A heartwarming end to your day, truly, coming home to—well, a home. One you have steadily built with him.

There was soft tofu stew in the covered saucepan, the metal still warm to the touch. As if Jeno just knew the exact minute you would be home to kill the fire and give it enough time to cool down a little so you could eat without burning your mouth. You turned ravenous on days like this and he knew. Jeno knew—knows you like the back of his hand at this point. Even when he wasn’t obligated to know the little details of your person.

As you sat right beside your work bag, you took a tiny sip of the red broth. It’s good as expected, you’ve never dared to expect anything less when it came to Jeno’s competence in the kitchen. The blunt edge of your spoon cuts the tofu seamlessly in half, a pleasant surprise. Jeno preferred tofu that was firmer, yet he made sure to incorporate your preferences.

It was two bites in when the preceding sting of your eyes and nose came. Tears soon blurred your vision, and then you were full on crying into your hearty serving of soft tofu stew. Why wouldn’t you? When the man who acted like he wanted nothing to do with you still went out of his way to look after you, keep you in his thoughts when he should have left you alone.

You hurt him after all, but Jeno had always been a conscientious bastard, always putting you first—above everyone else. No matter if you were the world’s biggest asshole to him.

It’s odd; being back in your room after another sobbing session in your bathroom (because god forbid a woman let out all those pent up emotions). There was no overzealous puppy in human form to greet you, or hover around while you were left to your own devices before you were eventually pulled into bed, a heavy, warm weight pressing you into the sheets.

Your bed felt bigger than it actually was. Emptier despite the handful of pillows you had. The thermostat remained untouched, yet you felt colder without anyone taking the extra space beside you and you had already switched to a thicker duvet for the season. Maybe you were going crazy for real this time.

And because you were nothing but consistent, tears had once again lined your eyes, until you had drifted off to sleep with a deep ache settling itself between your ribs. Wishing that upon waking up, you’d be in the past—before you had fucked it all up just for the sake of self-preservation.

In retrospect, maybe that had been selfish on your part: shutting something down before it even started because you were afraid of getting your heart torn right out of your chest and stomped on right in front of you. If things had gone your way, you wouldn’t have woken up still in the present day feeling like absolute shit, wouldn't have called in sick to your unit manager and charge nurse, and wouldn't have then begged for Mark’s girlfriend (now Mark himself. Who had his day off) to come over and talk you through your dilemma.

Fucking hell. Feelings were hard.

You were a shell of a woman after saying your piece. “He won’t even talk to me—won’t even tell me what I did wrong,” you said quietly. “I guess I thought I was doing the right thing. Ending things before it gets too messy. I mean, I don’t want to hold him back, y’know? Finding the right girl for him ‘cause she sure ain’t me.”

“Well, you did make the decision for him without even sitting him down to talk about—about what again?”

“Were you even listening?” you whined, “I got into an F-W-B arrangement with him even if I knew the risks and I developed feelings for him anyway.” You lay your cheek on the cold surface of the island counter to look even more pitiful in Mark’s eyes, who seemed rather pensive. “Seriously, where the fuck did you find Jeno? And why am I kinda crazy about him.” ‘Kinda’ was definitely underselling it, but it was funny to you anyway, chuckling to yourself.

Mark? Not so much. It did, however, snap him out of whatever subdued spell he was in. “Wait, huh?”

“What?” You sat up straight yourself, perplexed by the odd reaction. “What do you mean by that ‘huh’?”

“Waitwaitwait—lemme run by that again—” He sounded a little frazzled. “You were fucking casually on the side, then you fell in love—”

Your cheeks warmed. “Developed feelings—”

Mark gave you a look. “Fell in love with him—same fuckin’ thing, man—and you feel shitty about it and ended things? Is that right?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”

The both of you ended in a staring contest. Until Mark broke the streak when he pressed his lips together and got that look you hated so much on his face.

You groaned. “Mark.”

“What?” he said, copying your whiny tone.

“I don’t like that look.” You squinted at him as he pointed to himself in ‘who? Me?’ gesture, widening his eyes for that full faux innocent look. “Like you know something I’m supposed to know too, but you aren’t telling me because you secretly get off on that momentary superiority complex you get when you know more than I do and will definitely use it against me.”

“Well, yes.” Mark was so smug about it too.

“I graduated with better grades than you, F-Y-I.” You countered, knowing it had nothing to do with anything, but you said it anyway to make yourself feel better under your best friend’s gloating.

The annoyance melted away eventually and you were left slumped against the counter, your chin resting on top of your folded arms as you pouted in silence. You could feel Mark’s beady eyes boring into your side profile, so you were forced to talk.

“What should I do, Mark?”

“You know what I think?”

“No. That’s why I’m asking you.”

Mark reached over to pinch your cheek, laughing softly when you swatted at him. “I think you should do the adult thing and talk to him about it.”

“I’ve tried,” you mumbled. He shot you a blank look, aware of your tendency to avoid anything that involves talking. You know, by running away, but that was the old you and dealing with a grudge-filed Jeno wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. “I’ve tried!” you repeated, indignant this time. “but Jeno’s… slippery.”

A shit-eating grin slipped onto his face. The exact one a thirteen-year-old would get making unprompted dick jokes. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes. “How am I supposed to talk to someone who’s just as good as running away?”

“By force?” He answered rather quickly, like it was obvious. “You’ve always been good at cornering people.”

As if it could be that easy. Your roommate could be just as stubborn when he wanted to be. Like a fucking boulder that was on all fronts impossible to move by sheer willpower alone. Though you still let the thought marinate for exactly fifteen minutes since Mark had left you with a mysterious smile you had half the mind swipe away with a punch before slamming the door in his face: fifteen minutes when you heard a muffled yell come from Jeno’s room.

Well, that’s a sign if you’ve ever heard one. You just hoped he wasn’t violently jerking off. That yell sounded guttural, barging into his room while getting intimate with one (or both) of his hands did not sound like a good start to as possible heart to heart. Depends on Jeno, really. Or you, if you did manage to corner him, though something told you that you might. If you chose your words correctly,

Jeno hadn’t been whacking it, thankfully. The loud sounds he had been making during your ten seconds walk to his bedroom were out of frustration directed at the small pool of guys he was playing League with. You immediately recognized the frazzled yells of Donghyuck. Jaemin’s hyena-like cackles whenever he witnessed someone dying. You hear Chenle antagonizing Donghyuck for sport and a surprising addition to the circus was Jisung trying to corral everyone into actually working together. It didn’t work. You swore it just got louder if that was even possible.

You took a moment to lean against the door frame to watch the chaos on Jeno’s end. You get an eyeful of him. Like really took him in his natural state because it genuinely felt like you haven’t seen him and his face in a hot minute. The tight black tank-top, loose sweatpants, mussed up hair—you had to bite your tongue from making any pathetic noise.

“You voice chat with them on speaker?”

Evidently, Jeno had not expected for you to barge in, startling him so bad at the sound of your voice that he bumped his knee quite hard against the table with a loud exclamation of ‘fuck!’. The gaming chair squeaked when he spun around to scowl at you. Whether it was from scaring the living shit out of him, disturbing his time with the boys, or seeing you, the cause of his biggest disappointment, you probably deserved it either way.

“Why? Are you gonna complain how loud I am again?” Oh wow. He really did not like you right now. That wasn’t going to stop you though. You were going to have that talk whether your roommate liked it or not. And possible broken hearts be damned.

“No, I just—can we talk?”

Jeno arched an eyebrow, looking from his monitor then to you. “I’m busy. If that wasn’t obvious.”

My God, is he being difficult, you thought, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I doubt playing LoL with the morons is more important than what I have to talk to you about,” you said dryly.

“Did you just call us ‘morons’?” Chenle.

“Oh, and one of them’s deaf too.”

“Do we have to..?” Jeno has this sort of pained look on his face and could not quite meet your narrowed gaze.

“Wait—holy shit. Are you guys fighting?” Came the crackle of Jaemin’s grating voice, sounding way too happy.

“Mommy and Daddy are fighting,” Chenle sang in a stupid tune which immediately got a snippy ‘go fuck yourself, Chenle’ from Daddy.

“Is this why Jeno’s been a sulky shit for the past few weeks?” Donghyuck asked through his obnoxious giggling. “What’d you do, Samoyed?”

“You should be asking her that.” The samoyed in question grumbled, swiveling towards his monitor as the guys (minus Jisung) whooped and hollered at his snipe. “Can we continue? Please?” His tone turned desperate at the last word. If it were any other day, you would have taken pity, but it was clear he was using fucking League of Legends as an escape and you were too keyed up to let Jeno have this one.

“Oh no you don’t, motherfucker.”

Jeno barely had his hand hovered over the curved surface of his mouse when he was violently spun around with all the strength you had. The hollering increased tenfold, a chorus of men asking what the fuck was going on adding fuel to the fire pushing your roommate by the chair’s arms until it hits the edge of his desk hard enough that it rattled.

The incredulous twist to Jeno’s face went ignored along with the excited yells of grown ass men begging to be part of this ‘lovers spat’ as you clambered onto your roommate’s lap. The chair creaked when you leaned forward, reaching behind Jeno for the keyboard and paid no mind to his muffled exclaim of surprise. So what if your breasts were right in his face? He was well acquainted with them. He had no room to act like a blushing virgin.

“What—what are you doing?”

“Are we getting a show?” Donghyuck asked, excited, followed by the rest of them pressing to get exactly that.

“Hell no.” Your fingers pressed down on a combination of keys. “I’m turning this thing off. Goodbye.”

The whirring cooling fans of Jeno’s coveted CPU died along with your friends’ protests of sticking around longer and promises of keeping quiet after you had forced closed all applications after a few mouse clicks and shut down the computer. Once you were sure everything was off, you sat up straight and forced him to look at you with your fingers grasping his chin.

“We should talk.”

“I figured.” Jeno’s shoulders slumped with a resigned sigh, though he didn’t make any move to pull away from your touch. “Don’t you want to sit on the bed? Y’know, keep a normal distance between us?”

“Jeno, nothing about us is normal. Hasn’t been since that first kiss.”

He hummed, those brown pools of his glazing over as his cheeks pinked at the memory. “That’s fair. You sure you’re comfortable like that?”

“Just a precaution.” You shrugged. “I don’t want you running off. Which reminds me—” You let go of his chin in favor of leaning back and folding your arms above your chest. “What the fuck was that about? Avoiding me? I thought we were okay?”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say when Jeno’s face hardened and wrenched his chin from your grasp.

“Okay?” His disbelief has your eyebrows rising. “It was that easy for you, huh?” You were surprised he hasn’t thrown you off his lap yet. Jeno seemed to contemplate the idea as a series of emotions passed over his face. In the end, he settled on leaning back with a creak, mirroring your crossed arms and looking everything but pleased. “No. We’re not okay. Why the fuck did you think I’d be okay after you told me you wanted nothing to do with me?”

“Technically, that’s not what I said—“

“I know what you said. I was there.” That was a joke. A very dry one at that and if this were any other situation, you would have laughed. “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less. We were doing good. We were happy and I thought you might’ve—” He shook his head.“I just don’t get why you called it quits.” Well, at least the urge to laugh was gone. You felt like absolute garbage. Jeno looked so tired, staring resolutely at the print of your shirt.

“Believe me when I say I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said gently, reaching out to brush your fingers against Jeno’s that were nestled in the crook of his elbow. “I thought I was doing the right thing—and you were right, we were happy. It was the happiest I’ve ever been and… and—I’m going to sound so stupid—but I got scared. Everything was good, yeah, too good. Perfect even, and that scared me.” When you heard nothing from Jeno, you took that as a prompt for you to continue, keeping your gaze set on his fingers you fiddled with.

“This was supposed to be just sex, y’know? But the longer it went on, the more I started to want more than that and it’s honestly driving me crazy,” you say, laughing softly to yourself. “You just had to be kind. You just had to be the sweetest fucking person I know and I guess I’m not as immune as I thought I would be when it comes to you.” You swallowed thickly. “And I can’t stand the fact that all I’m ever gonna be is your roommate you sleep with.”

Your heart pounded in your ears. Laying yourself bare had never been easy. The vulnerability that came with admitting you’ve grown to care for Jeno outside the limits friendship entailed. Granted you didn’t explicitly pour your heart out, but your roommate was smarter than people would give him credit for so chances are, Jeno understood you perfectly. From the tremble in your voice, to the raw desperation in your words… you just hoped that whatever happens, you won’t lose his friendship.

Jeno stayed mum. You didn’t think he was breathing either and you were steadily growing worried because said anything for the past minute. Was he gearing to shove you off his lap like you had assumed? Get you comfortable first and then catch you by surprise? Alarmed by the likelihood of that happening, you steeled yourself as you lifted your head up.

And you were met with the most peculiar sight: Jeno red in the face.

“Oh my God,” he said, mortified and caught his face with both hands. The tips of his ears were tinged in a bright red too.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled with a heavy heart. Of course he didn’t feel the same. “It’s literally my own fault that I caught feelings—”

“No no. Don't ever be sorry for that.” He made a noise muffled by both of his hands, dragging them down his face. Jeno was less red now, though he was still flushed, not knowing what to do with his hands until they settled awkwardly folded on his abdomen. “It’s just—this is really embarrassing.”

“We can pretend this never happened—” He cuts you off, saying your name.

“This is embarrassing because I thought you broke up with me.”

What?

“I broke up with you,” you clarified, all racing emotions coming to a screeching halt as you stared blankly into the distance.

The short laugh Jeno lets out was almost hysterical. “Yeah. I thought we were dating.”

“Dating? Since when?”

Jeno tilted his head. “The first and last time we had sex in my car. Because someone was scared of getting caught.”

“Well, I’m not exactly an exhibitionist, damn.” Now it was your turn for your face to flame up. That’s what he meant? “And you said you wanted to be ‘exclusive’! Not that you wanted me as your girlfriend!”

Jeno blinked in that cute way of his. “Is that not what being exclusive means?”

“Jeno, we hooked up in your car when you asked me that. At my job of all places. Who in their right mind would think you wanted to be my boyfriend? I literally thought you meant you wanted to fuck just me and no other girl. No-strings attached—that type of shit.”

“Well, no,” Obviously. His eyes seemed to say. “Wait. Was that why you kept making jokes of me still sleeping around?”

You winced with a reluctant nod. “uh—you can’t blame me for assuming since you look…” you made a vague gesture towards his face. “Like that.”

“You can say I’m hot," Jeno teased, smiling wryly. "It’s okay. I won’t get a big head or anything…”

“Too late, Megamind.” You scowled, then pursed your lips in contemplation. “Wait—holy shit… so that’s what Mark meant.”

Jeno blinked. “Meant what?”

“He said he gave us his blessing when we were at their housewarming party.” The knowing looks, the gentle pride gleaming from his eyes when you caught him staring at you and Jeno standing side-by-side at the party. “Oh my God. Did everyone else think that?” The girls losing their minds when you got up to make your way towards Jeno… Jaemin’s ever-present teasing dialed up to eleven once Jeno had let it slip through their phone call. “Why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you find it weird that I wasn’t, like, referring to you as my boyfriend?”

Jeno’s lips parted into a darling ‘o’, then formed into a sheepish smile when you raised an eyebrow. “I just thought you were shy—that you wanted to keep our relationship private until you were ready to hard launch me on Instagram, or something like that.”

You wanted to kick yourself. “You’re literally too nice for your own good, what the fuck.” Jeno shrugged and you had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. You were dating this man without even knowing, apparently and here you were, dealing with your feelings like an angsty teenager. This is the most ridiculous case of miscommunication you’ve dealt with so far. “And the things you’ve been doing for me… the morning coffees, the sometimes lunches you’d leave with Jimin. Taking and picking me up to and from work when you could. The couch… Everything, basically… that wasn’t just you being nice?”

“It was me trying to make up for being the world’s shittiest roommate at first, but yes, that’s also me being your boyfriend, I’m sure,” he confirmed with a solemn nod, eyes twinkling as he finally relaxed in his chair. “Should I bring you a flower every time I do? Y’know, as a reminder, that yes. I’m doing this as your boyfriend.”

“As your boyfriend,” you repeated, smiling bashfully at his use of present-tense. “Are you done giving me the silent treatment, then? Because that sucked. Every time I looked at the couch you bought for us, I got this urge to cry.”

“I’m venmo-ing your money back, by the way.” Jeno was sure of himself now, his big hands feeling at him with their hold on your hips. “Are you going to admit you like me enough to consider me as your boyfriend?”

“I like you more than I should, actually,” you admitted and that was said without any conflicting feelings this time. Proudly too, in fact and the smile on your roommate-turned-fuck-buddy-turned-boyfriend was so worth it. “You’re really hard to resist.”

“I can say the same for you.” Your hips got a firm squeeze from him, making you shiver in delight. You really missed this—missed him and the giddy rush you would get whenever he said something just as sweet. “One more embarrassing thing.”

“Yeah?” You leaned forward, hands trailing tracing up his chest, the skin left exposed by his skin-fit tank top until he let out a hum, smiling coyly when your nails scratched languid lines at his nape. “Tell me anyway.”

“I fell in love the moment I saw you.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s coming from someone who had many girls over and kept me up.”

“In my defense, I was convinced you were unreachable.”

“You could’ve just said I’m a bitch and called it a day.”

“No—no. It’s not about that, and you had the right to be. What I’m saying is that Mark was kind of an overseller.” Oh yeah. You sure had your own experiences with that. “Like, he made it sound like you were this girl who would never give me the time of the day, y’know? And before I took a leap and—and kissed you that day, I got too in my head that I won’t have a chance—I give you full permission to call me an idiot—and here we are.”

“So you weren’t fucking other girls, then. When we were sleeping together.”

“Nah, I was too busy thinking you were my girlfriend. I’m a slut, not a cheater.”

“Quote of the year,” you teased, smirking at his embarrassment. “Then that's old news. I don’t give a fuck, but really?” Jeno looked very pleased with himself, precious blush and all from admitting that he had been shooting heart eyes in your direction since the very early stages of your lives when you barely had taken root in each other’s. “Even when I was the biggest bitch of the east?”

“Especially when you were a bitch.” He emphasized his point by sliding one of his hands to the small of your back and pushing you close as the limited space his chair would allow you. “I really wasn’t lying when I said you’re cute when you’re angry. Really turns me on.”

“I think you just like me bossing you around, don’t you?” The slow blink you were rewarded with when giving his hair an experimental tug said it all. It pulled out a soft sound of amusement from you, pressing your foreheads together as your palms curved over his cheeks. “Your taste in women is horrendous, Jeno Lee.”

That made him smile, leaning into your touch. “I think you’re perfect, actually.” The warm puffs of his breath ghosting against your parted lips made them tingle and Jeno closed the distance with a kiss so sweet, so full of longing that you could honestly cry.

Was it possible to go a little stir crazy from not getting to kiss the man for weeks? Because you honestly felt like it, with Jeno being the sole source for your fix. You missed this. You missed him, having Jeno this close. You saw no point in rushing this as you pressed deeper, running your fingers through his soft hair just as your boyfriend (boyfriend!) crowds you further into him by wrapping one secure arm around your waist. His other hand cupped the back of your neck, leaving you to melt into his touch.

“On the contrary,” you took a big gulp of air just as Jeno took to pressing as many kisses as he could down your neck. “I’m kind of a mess,” you said, granting him a rueful smile when he withdrew with his eyebrows knitted together. “And a lot to deal with. Are you sure you want this?”

“You hated me at first. The big idiot who didn’t know when enough was enough, and yet you still gave me a chance anyway. Fuck knows why, but hell am I glad you did. The whole Casanova thing would have been a turn off for anybody, but you’re still here.”

“I’ve seen you change overtime. You’ve never been the same guy since then and I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that you might want to give this long term thing a shot. I couldn't care less if you ran through every woman in our area.”

“And I couldn't care less if there are days where you’ll be difficult. I’m in love with you—” You’ve never thought your name in the same sentence as ‘love’ would give you this much warmth. “I love you. Good days, bad days—doesn’t mean a thing when I’ll be with you during those days. And it’s all I ever want. So long as you’ll have me.”

And my goodness do you hold so much fondness for him. All those things that he did, all those things that he had said so far… it really made you want to put that much faith in him. He made it so easy when he was this determined and sincere and you really didn’t care if the start of this was all backwards.

“I really, really like you, Jeno Lee,” you whispered as if the moment would be ruined if you said it any louder. Whispered as if Jeno was the only one allowed to hear it. “Please trust me when I say I do. This—this is new to me, so I’m a little overwhelmed—look.” You took his hand and placed it above your beating heart. “There’s probably going to be a bruise there from how hard it's beating.”

“Oh, physical confirmation. I like that.”

You laughed, taking his hand to press the palm of it to your cheek. “It really was torture when I had to temporarily put us on hold. I was so used to you being there and… yeah.”

“Trust me when I say it felt like my world just collapsed when you broke up with me.”

“Eh… does it really count when one of us didn’t know that we were dating?”

“I suppose not.” Jeno reached up to kiss your cheek, your nose and then your lips. “We’re both stupid, I guess.”

“And you're sure you still want this?”

"You're all I've ever wanted."

Jeno pulled you down for another searing kiss full on intention, and you knew just then he’d be here with you. On the good days and the bad, in this apartment that started it all for a long time.

Jeno: hey Jeno: just wanna say thanks

Mark Lee: for what lol

Jeno: for linking me with your best friend Jeno: didn’t think you’d set me up to be her roommate tho Jeno: but that’s killing two birds with one stone ig so thanks anyway Jeno: I owe you my life

Mark Lee: it’s whatever dude Mark Lee: only you would fall in love with the girl who puked on your shoes for your meet-cute 😆

Jeno: listennn Jeno: she said she loved me and cuddled with me all night after i cleaned her up sat her down Jeno: but it didn’t look like she remembered me or that night at all

Mark Lee: dude  Mark Lee: she was shitfaced at a club

Jeno: she could have remembered my face :/

Mark Lee: it was dark as hell 😐 Mark Lee: get a grip man Mark Lee: n she tends to not remember anything after THAT many tequila shots Mark Lee: i am curious tho what made her think you guys were just fucking and not dating lmfao Mark Lee: like what did you say 😭😭

Jeno: im blocking you.

END.

a/n: AND WE'RE DONE!!! LET'S ALL LIVE!!!! as always, special thanks to Aria, Aeriel and Moon for letting me scream and cry about how this fic was ruining my life and for lending a hand when it comes to forming ideas! I probably wouldn't have finished this piece of work if it weren't for them cheering me on and I am truly grateful to have them and their support i love you guys 🥹🩷🩷 and I'd also like to thank to wonderful people who had read this fic from start to finish! you deserve a cookie 🍪

TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna @rjreins @pinknjm @kshynj @dorkyji @notevenheretbh1 @everytimeicrymytearsdonteverdry @iscocohere @seulkikiii @wintahh @peachesmilk @rxnexxi @rum-gone-why @bluedbliss @tiramisubox @jinxxdreamz @minkyuncutie @txnml @yawnzshit @suhwife @carelessshootanonymous @sanctify-mp3 @haechansbbg @dreamiestay @ryuvrsie @derywinkle @byungbyungbaek @surrealxox @jenoleeaesthetic @dreamy-carat @weiweific @focusonyeri (much thanks you guys who had expressed interest and asked to be part of the taglist!)

[hoshigray]

I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!” 

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure. 

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby. 

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet. 

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room. 

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff. 

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now! 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows. 

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.” 

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking…about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold. 

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie. 

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes. 

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly.  “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by. 

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies. 

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”  

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit. 

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!” 

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.” 

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more. 

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?” 

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure. 

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance. 

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

 “Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict. 

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity. 

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.” 

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax. 

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth. 

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.  

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior. 

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane. 

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?” 

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh. 

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi morgera + dividers by @/cafekitsune + @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[sh4nksslvt]

maybe i need a whole fic with luffy x reader married now... i'm not charging you, maybe i'm just in love with your writing

a/n: thank u <3 hope u like this~

Wait… Luffy’s WHAT?!

Luffy reunites with his childhood sweetheart, who also happens to be his secret spouse. The crew thought he was joking… until they weren’t laughing anymore.

LUFFY X GN!READER | ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, ooc, marriage, reader is opposite of luffy

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe

word count: 1.3k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Thousand Sunny drifted through the final tunnel, water glistening against its protective bubble as Fishman Island came into view.

“WOAAAH!” Luffy yelled from the deck, eyes wide. “It’s so shiny!”

“I can’t believe it’s real!” Chopper spun around.

Robin smiled behind a hand. “The architecture here is said to be older than the Grand Line itself.”

“I heard the royal family is pretty generous,” Nami added. “If we play this smart, we could stock up for weeks.”

But Luffy? His mind was somewhere else entirely. Or rather, on someone.

He leaned against the rail, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I wonder if they’re here…”

“LUFFY, GET BACK HERE, YOU CAN’T JUST–!”

“NAMI!, I SMELL MEEAAT!”

He was already gone. Sprinting like a man possessed through the bustling bubble streets of Fishman Island, eyes wide, tongue out, arms flailing in glee.

“Captain,” Robin said with a small smile, “seems excited.”

“He's always excited,” Zoro muttered, arms crossed. “But this time he’s extra stupid.”

Brook hummed thoughtfully. “Yohohoho, I wonder if the meat will marry him too.”

“Wait, did you say marry?” Usopp blinked. “Oh yeah! Didn’t Luffy say he was married once?”

“…Didn’t we all think he was joking?” Franky asked, brows raised.

“Yeah,” Chopper added with a little snort. “He said something like ‘I already got a wife, and they’re way stronger than all of you!’ and we just laughed.”

The crew exchanged glances.

“…You think he was serious?”

MEANWHILE.

Luffy skidded around the corner, bonking a coral lamp post with his forehead. “Ow–!”

“Still no sense of direction?”

He froze.

That voice.

He knew that voice like the back of his hand — or the taste of meat. Slowly, his wide eyes turned toward the source.

There, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, was you.

Stoic, calm, one eyebrow raised, and totally unamused as always.

“Y/N!!” Luffy beamed, bolting toward you. “Y/N Y/N Y/N! YOU'RE HERE!!”

Before you could scold him, he’d wrapped you in a tight hug that nearly knocked you back.

“Still a hugger as usual, huh?” you mumbled, eyes softening just a bit.

“Missed you! SHISHISHI,” he grinned into your shoulder.

“You saw me six months ago,” you said, deadpan.

“Yeah!, but that’s like…so long!!”

You sighed, though your hand was already resting on his back, grounding the chaotic ball of sunshine that had stolen your heart all those years ago.

“…You never change.”

FLASHBACK - Windmill Village

“You’re so noisy.”

“C’mon Y/N, let’s go punch that tree again!”

Putting your book down, you sat with your arms folded, watching as young Luffy jumped up and down with excitement, a stick in his hand like it was the strongest sword in the world.

“We’ll get stronger together! Then we’ll go on adventures and eat meat every day!”

You blinked. “That’s your dream?”

“Yup! What’s yours?”

You shrugged. “I don’t have one.”

“Then make one with me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Make a dream with you?”

He nodded seriously. “We can share. Like best friends. Or… like married people!”

“…That’s not how marriage works.”

“Then I’ll change the rules!”

You stared at him.

“…Fine.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“What now.”

“If we ever get married, can I still eat meat at the wedding?”

You looked up from your book. “Obviously. I won’t marry someone who doesn’t love meat.”

He blinked, surprised. “So you will marry me?”

You went back to reading. “Didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

His heart exploded like fireworks.

BACK TO PRESENT

“Wait,” Sanji whispered from the side of the plaza, crouched with the rest of the crew behind some candy-colored seaweed. “Is that them?! MELLORINEE~~”

“THEM?!” Usopp whispered. “You know them?!”

“I’ve heard rumors,” Sanji sighed dreamily. “That’s Y/N — calm as the sea before a storm. Feared in the Grand Line and cold-hearted~"

“Yeah, but they’re…” Chopper tilted his head. “Letting Luffy carry them like a backpack right now.”

“Are they… cuddling?” Zoro’s eye twitched. “In public?”

“I’m SUPER! emotionally confused,” Franky muttered.

“Yohohoho,” Brook said softly. “So our captain is… married.”

“And he was serious,” Robin added, intrigued.

Luffy still hadn’t let go. You were currently being dragged around the island as he loudly pointed at every fish-person, street food stall, and bubble coral with endless excitement.

“Look, Y/N, look!! That octopus is playing drums!!”

You nodded. “Mm.”

“And that shark guy has THREE swords!”

You blinked. “Impressive.”

“Oh! That candy shop sells meat-lollipops!! Want one?”

“…Fine.”

He gasped, eyes shining. “You said yes! You never say yes to candy!”

“It’s for you, dumbass.”

He beamed so hard it could’ve powered the Sunny.

LATER, WITH THE CREW

“LUFFY!!”

He turned mid-bite of his meat-lollipop. “Huh?”

“WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?!” Nami shrieked.

You were sitting beside him, sipping seaweed tea calmly. “Can I help you?”

“YEAH, YOU CAN EXPLAIN HOW YOU’RE—MARRIED TO LUFFY?!”

He tilted his head. “I told you guys already.”

“YEAH BUT YOU SAID IT WHILE EATING A SEA KING LEG!!”

Franky pointed dramatically. “That’s not the time for SUPER confessions, bro!”

You raised a hand. “We’ve been married for years. It’s just not something we flaunt.”

“…You married Luffy. As in legal.”

“Technically yes. I still have the officiation snail photo. Luffy drew a mustache on it.”

“HE LOOKED SO FUNNY!! SHISHISHI” Luffy grinned, remembering it fondly.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY?! YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE!” Usopp flailed.

You stared at him. “What about it?”

“I dunno!! It’s just… Luffy’s sunshine! You’re like… moonlight. That can kill people.”

Zoro finally snapped. “Okay, no offense, but how do you even deal with him?”

You sighed, placing a hand over Luffy’s head as he practically melted beside you.

“…I’ve dealt with worse than a meat-goblin with a hero complex and zero sense of personal space.”

“That’s me!!” Luffy said proudly.

Robin giggled. “You really are opposites.”

“They’re so cool,” Sanji whispered, nose bleeding. “They’re scary. But like, in a hot way~”

“Are you crushing on our captain’s spouse?!” the crew hissed.

“Can’t help it~”

LATER THAT NIGHT ON THE SUNNY

You sat at the edge of the deck, legs dangling above the water, watching the glowing sea beneath.

Luffy flopped beside you, resting his head in your lap like he always did when the sky was quiet.

“You’re really okay with all this attention?” you asked, fingers brushing his hair.

“Mmhmm. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You never cared about showing people.”

“I didn’t think I had to. You're mine. That’s already the best thing ever.”

Your hand paused. Then resumed slowly.

“You’re still dumb.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m your dumb.”

“…Yeah. You are.”

He yawned, curling closer. “Remember the promise we made?”

“Which one? You made a lot.”

“The one about sharing dreams.”

You looked up at the stars. “Yeah. I remember.”

“I still wanna do that. Even if it’s dumb. Even if I die trying.”

You tapped his forehead.

“You won’t die. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

NEXT MORNING — FISHMAN ISLAND MARKET

“I WANT TO BUY THAT ONE!”

“Luffy, that’s a pearl the size of a cannonball.”

“I WANT IT!!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Luffy, if I have to carry another crate of your ‘souvenirs’ I will drown you.”

He gasped. “Y/N!! That’s mean!”

“…You like that.”

“I DO!”

“Ew, please stop flirting where I can hear you,” Nami groaned as she walked by.

Zoro muttered, “Every time I think they’ll kill each other, they end up flirting again.”

“Do you think they’ll ever kiss in front of us?” Chopper asked innocently.

Sanji's eye turned into fire. “NO WAY! I'LL KICK YOU! YOU DAMN MONKEY!!!"

“Luffy, stop licking the pearl.”

“You know,” Robin said later that evening, watching you drag Luffy back from trying to arm-wrestle a sea king, “they’re oddly perfect together.”

“Opposites attract,” Franky nodded.

“They’re like fire and ice,” Brook added.

“More like hyper gremlin and emotionless murderbot,” Nami muttered.

“…Still somehow works,” Zoro said.

Sanji sobbed. “WHEN WILL MY TURN COME?!"

.

.

— A FEW DAYS LATER

“Hey, Robin,” Usopp whispered as the ship cruised along the current.

“Yes?”

“…Do you think we should throw them a wedding party?”

She sipped her tea. “I think if you try, you’ll die.”

“Right.”

“Besides,” she added, glancing at the couple watching the sunset at the bow of the ship, Luffy wrapped around you like a sleepy octopus, “I think they already had the only wedding they needed.”

[maedae-maedae]

Try It

☆ Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

☆ Genre: Fluff (possible future smut), Pining

☆ Warnings: N/A (for now)

☆ Contents: First Kiss, First Time, Innocence, Pining, Discovery, Oblivious Luffy, Friendship/Love

☆ Word Count: 4.5k

☆ Summary: You’ve long been pinning for your captain, maybe since the very first day you first set sail as a strawhat pirate. But knowing him, he’s never and probably will never show interest in anything romantic— let alone for you. Maybe you’ll always be destined to admire him from afar as he chases his dreams. Or maybe one silly little bet on a random night will change your relationship forever…

☆ A/N: you guys are never gonna believe this… im not actually caught up on one piece 🥀 think of this fic happening around the 400 episode mark?? there might be some things that wouldn’t make sense for later lore (i don’t know) and ofc were missing the last strawhat. the rating for this fic might also change later… im not sure if i wanna make this a smut fic or not, but for now its very wholesome :3

other than that, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1 - The Bet

“I’m telling you, there’s no way in a million years!“ Nami tells you for maybe the thousandth time, leaning (a bit drunkenly) on the stair rail behind her as the two of you sit on the steps together.

“Wanna bet?” You ask her with a certain mischievous look. For a moment she looks a little surprised, then her expression slowly mirrors yours. You know how much she likes a good bet, especially when the odds seem to be in her favor.

“I like those odds. You’re on.” She tells you gladly. You know her too well.

“I want in too.” Zoro’s voice suddenly appears behind you two, making you both jump out of your skin.

“Jerk! Don’t sneak up on us like that!!!” Nami shouts, giving the green haired pirate a good smack on the head.

“Did you hear all of that?!” You ask directly after, a bit mortified because you’ve never told anyone but Nami about this. Though you suppose there are probably others on the ship who have caught on, you’re not exactly that subtle. Unfortunately.

“Yeah, and I’m with Nami.” He says easily, like his confirmation is not very embarrassing for you. “There’s no way you’re getting the captain interested in anything like that. I’ve never seen it once in my time sailing with him.”

“Exactly. That boy is totally unamused by the entire idea.” Nami agrees, “But honestly, I’d still like to see you try.”

You frown at both of them. You know all of this to be true, but you don’t like to admit it. You’ve been admiring and pinning for your captain all this time, yet ultimately knowing better than to actually pursue him. It’s like they said, he’s never really seemed much interested in the idea of romance , not to mention that he’s specifically never shown any of that type of interest in you . Romantically, that is.

You remember when he invited you into his crew, your vulnerable and crying self parallel to his bright-as-the-sun smile. He wanted you to sail with him, be by his side for the coming future. Despite it being the same thing he’d done for most your crew, for a moment it made you feel special, feel like a person who is capable of great things. It was that moment that you fell in love with him. You never had a chance really, you were hooked since your first day of pirating. Luffy gave you many things; confidence, bigger purpose in life, hope, friendship, sanctuary. But you selfishly crave more from him. Is that so bad? Maybe thats why you’ve never quite tried, feeling tied to the role you occupy in his life and the gratitude you should hold for him at all times.

But maybe today, just once, you can try to be a little selfish.

“…Fine. I’ll take both of you on for the bet.” You say, crossing your arms and doubling down (literally).

“Alright!! What are we thinking? Five hundred thousand berries?” Nami beams, a little too excited about this. Does she have that little faith in you??

“Five-?! What, each? Do you think Im rich?!” You gawk at her.

“I can accept a payment plan.” She shrugs.

“No, no.. I know you and your debts…” You mumble, side-eyeing her as you look away for a moment to think.

“Well, you don’t have to do the bet. If you’re that unsure of-“

“Alright, alright…” You quiet her before she can taunt you. “How about.. two hundred thousand each.”

“Two hundred fifty?”

“Fine.”

“Woo-hoo!” She throws her hands in the air and then turns to look at your crewmate. “Zoro? That sounds good for you?”

“Hell yeah it does.” He grins, folding his arms and leaning back as if he’s 100% sure of the outcome being that he’ll be two hundred fifty berries richer tonight.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.” You groan and push yourself up to stand.

“Hey, you brought this upon yourself.” Zoro tells you and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever. Get ready to lose.” You tell them with only partially-fake confidence, as you turn away.

“Good luck!” Nami waves to you with a smile despite you already walking away. “Oh this is gonna be good.”

“I’ll say.” Zoro grins at her.

As you make your way to Luffy across the deck, your heart does pick up a few paces. Glancing around, the others are busy thankfully. Chopper and Usopp are dancing around with Brook while he plays some quite fitting music for the situation actually. Upbeat but somehow romantic even without any type of lyrics. Robin is relaxing on the upper deck reading a book, franky probably keeping her company. You don’t see Sanji, you imagine he’d be inside preparing meals for tomorrow at this time. That’s good, he’d probably only interfere or worse; freak out if you were lucky enough to actually get anything out of this bet.

You take a deep breath as you set your sights back on Luffy, getting close. You just have to think of this as any other conversation with him, just be natural. He looks so cute, staring at a map at the top of the stairs on the opposite side of the ship from where you just were.

You approach your straw hat captain finally, feeling a bit more doubt than you were before suddenly. Not enough to make you back down, though. You got this.

“Hey Luffy!” You call to him right before you can take a seat across from him. He looks up at you from Nami’s map he was priorly investigating. His immediate smile at seeing you is contagious and it makes your heart flutter like usual.

“Hey, [Y/n]! What’s up?”

“What you doin’ with the map?” You ask him curiously and you both peer forward at it.

“Just thinkin.” He says simply, and you look at him curiously.

“I still can’t believe I’m really getting to sail the grand line with my crew. I wanna get as familiar with this map as possible.” He continues, still staring at it.

You smile fondly at him. You’re so happy he’s getting to achieve his dreams, and that you’re here to see it.

“You’re gonna be great when you finally become king of the pirates. I know it’s your destiny.” You tell him honestly and he looks at you a bit surprised before giving you his signature big grin.

“Thanks! I can’t wait!”

You continue to smile as he goes back to admiring this map. You’re happy to just sit with him like this, and suddenly you don’t even want to do what you came for and possibly ruin this moment. You glance up at the orange and green-haired pair watching you across the deck. They both give you a tipsy and somehow condescending smile. Nami gives you a thumbs up. They really don’t think you can do this.

“Hey, Luffy. Can I ask you something?” You speak suddenly, breaking the prior silence.

“Sure, anything.” He answers easily, still gazing down. Your heart flutters.

“It might be kinda weird.” You warn him and he finally glances up at you, attention peaked.

“Weird how?”

“I’m just curious..” You start, trailing off for a moment. You want to make this seem as natural as you can. Play it cool.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Huh??“ Comes his immediate surprise, his eyes widening a little. “Kissed someone? What, like, on the mouth?”

You giggle at his predictably silly reaction.

“Yes, on the mouth.” You confirm.

“No. Why would I? Seems gross.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno. Just does.”

Shut down.

Okay, you can still do this. Keep going.

“But don’t you think there’s a reason why so many people do it? Maybe it would feel good if it was someone you really liked, right?” You explain, trying not to be weird. Did that sound weird?

“Maybe. But I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” He shrugs, attention going back to the map.

Wow, okay. You have to admit that that one stung to actually hear out loud. You think you just might be down for the count after that. Ugh, you don’t really care about Zoro, but being in Nami’s debt does not sound fun. Why did you do this?

You gaze at the map again with Luffy, just continuing to have a bit of a pity party in your own brain.

“How would I even know, though?” He suddenly asks, drawing your attention back to him.

“Huh? Know what?” You ask.

“Know if I liked someone like that? How do people even know?”

You have to take a second to really think about that question. How do you explain the feeling to someone who’s supposedly never felt it?

“Well… You would probably think about them a lot, and want to be around them all the time, know everything about them, help them whenever you can. It would be the person you have the most fun with, like a best friend, but something more. They would make you really happy, and excited, but also nervous and anxious. You want to be better for them, always growing so you can protect them and care for them.” You list off things as you think about all the ways you know that you have feelings for him.

“A lot of that just sounds like stuff I feel for all my friends, though.” He frowns, confused.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s pretty similar. But it’s definitely different.” You try to explain to him, though still contradicting yourself there. “You would probably just know. Someone who makes you feel different than anyone else. You think of them in different ways than you would with your friends. You’d want to do… romantic things with them. That kind of thing.”

“Huh…” He hums, putting his chin in his hand and looking off at the sea for a second to think about it.

The clear sky allowed for beautiful moonlight to shine down on the ship tonight. You stare at your captain as you admire him for the umpteenth time. You wish he would do the same for you, but you’re content enough with just getting to spend time with him like this, see him like this.

“Yeah.. I don’t think I’ve ever felt all that.” He says slowly, still gazing off. You ignore the ache this time and try to just be present in your conversation with him.

“That’s okay. Maybe you just don’t get those feelings. That’s totally fine.” You reassure him. It’s true, some people just don’t get feelings like that, aren’t able to. Maybe Luffy was like that. You’d considered it before.

“What?!” He shouts suddenly, whipping his head around to you. “That’s possible?! But I don’t want to miss out! If it’s so great like people say…”

His pouting pulls a short giggle out of you, and you turn to look at the sea this time. It looks so endless on nights like these. But the light reflecting off every surface around uou is certainly a beautiful sight.

“It’s not that great, really.” You sigh, wielding a bittersweet smile. “Honestly sometimes it’s kind of torture. But maybe you’ll still get to feel it one day, who knows? Maybe you just haven’t met the right person.”

It’s quiet for a few moments after that. You swear you can feel his eyes on you now, but you’re too afraid to look.

“So, you’ve liked someone like that before?” He asks you. You look back at him finally, a bit thrown.

“Well, yeah. Of course.”

He stares at you for a moment, that then turns into a lot more moments. So much time that it becomes kind of uncomfortable and you have to glance away. His face is stark blank, so you have no idea what this look means.

“Luffy?” You say cautiously, tilting your head a bit.

“Hm.” He hums, deciding to look back down at the map between you two. You frown, confused on whatever that just was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin.” He answers simply, and so you don’t push any further. Whatever. Maybe he got lost in thought about something totally unrelated. Your captain is kind of unpredictable like that.

There’s another silence, though more comfortable this time. Moreso than the map now, you start to admire Luffy’s hands in front of you. The sight along with Brook’s distant piano music and the sound of the waves calmly moving, makes this moment feel so tender and serine. You want to keep it with you to remember when times get hard.

“Still though.. I can’t imagine that kissing anyone at all would be all that great.” He speaks suddenly once more, and your head perks up again. He still looks particularly focused on the map, despite continuing this unrelated conversation.

“Even if I liked them all special, like you said.” He adds and you blink at him.

Oh, you feel an opening here.

“You don’t think it would be nice at all?” You continue, pulling it a bit further.

“Not really.”

“Well…” You start, and you bite your lip to contemplate if you’re really about to say this. Can you?

“Then…” You keep going and, finally, he looks up at you again slightly. His big brown eyes are a weakness of yours truly. And you realize it might just be now or never.

“Do you.. wanna try?” You finally ask cautiously, giving him a smile despite your nerves.

“What, kissing? With who?” He asks, obviously not getting the hint.

This is it. You can feel it. Your confidence is starting to come back and you can still feel those two’s eyes on you from across the ship. You feel like they’re about to be in for a show.

“I can show you, if you want.” You offer sweetly, and you do enjoy the way his reaction flusters in surprise as he realizes what you meant. You hardly see him get embarrassed, or whatever this is.

“H-HUH?! WITH YOU?!” He shouts obnoxiously, grabbing the other’s attention for a moment. You just keep smiling at him.

“[Y/n], are you drunk?” He questions you, raising an eyebrow.

What the hell! Why would that be his first assumption?!

“I am not!” You scoff in defense, and honestly you forgot that that was even a factor. Though it probably wasn’t. You hardly drank much at all and it was a while ago now. This is just what you wanted, drunk or sober. Sometimes, when you got drunk, Nami had to keep you away from the captain so you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of the crew. Not the point.

“You don’t have to, obviously, if you’re not comfortable. I’m just saying, if you’re really curious…” You tell him and trail off. You find it hard to keep eye contact, eyes wandering off and then running back to him again.

He stares at you, and he seems to be actually considering this, to your surprise. You continue to watch him contemplate it. Your heart feels like it’s going a million beats a second now.

“…Alright.” He concludes, and you’re not quite sure what that means by this. You wait for him to continue.

“I mean, can’t hurt to try and say I did it, right? Then I’ll know I’m not missing out on anything.” He tells you and- oh my god this is really happening. He just agreed to kiss you. Your eyes light up. You’re so excited to not only win this bet, but also get to be Luffy’s very first kiss.

“Okay! You want to do it now?” You ask him, just to make sure (and maybe a bit too eager).

“Sure, why not?” He tells you, staring at you intently. It’s a bit strange the way he immediately got over his embarrassment from a moment ago, but then again that is very Luffy of him.

The truth is though, that Luffy is actually nervous deep down. This thing that everyone seems to value so much and is apparently so intimate and great. He’d never really seen the appeal. But now that he’s agreed to do it with you, it’s suddenly got his stomach all in knots, a weird queasy feeling mixed with antsy anticipation. Is that what you were talking about earlier?

The two of you kind of just stare at eachother for a moment or two.

“Uh.. so.. how do I do it?” He asks you genuinely, like he has to wait for your instruction.

You smile and try not to tease him for his question. It’s an understandable one for someone who’s never done this. You’ve only done with one person in the past, but that still makes you more experienced.

“Just do whatever feels natural. Oh, and close your eyes. It’s weird to stare at the other person while kissing.” You tell him and he nods in understanding, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks a slight pink. He shuts his eyes tightly and waits, and you cant help not to silently giggle while he can’t see you.

Wow, you’re really doing this. And just on the deck like this, too. You totally thought he’d want to go somewhere private or something. Though, now it seems obvious that he wouldn’t care enough to want to hide.

You take one last look at the two people who are totally about to be in your debt, making eye contact. They have no idea what’s going on, rather confused compared to their earlier confidence in your failure.

You give them a cute wink before turning back to Luffy and finally leaning to place a soft kiss on his lips. You’re honestly half expecting him to shoot backwards in disgust, but he doesn’t. He seems unsure for a second, just kind of staying still, but after a few seconds ends up leaning into it. You can already hear the others freaking out from a distance, more than just Zoro and Nami after their initial shout of disbelief. You smile against his lips at your win, and take in one last moment with him like this before you pull back. The moment is so sweet, you already know you’ll never forget it for the rest of your life, even if you never get to do this with him again. And you are simultaneously accepting that the likeliness of this never happening again is pretty high. At the end of the day, Nami and Zoro were still right, Luffy has no real interest in romance. Of course you knew that. Still, it’ve killed you if you didn’t try. And thank god you did.

What happens next surprises you, though. When you do start to pull back slowly… his lips only follow you. You break for less than a second before you’re connected again. He doesn’t want to stop, keeping the two of you together himself. You almost gasp, totally taken off guard by the way he seems to take charge. Didn’t he say he’d never done this? Why does this feel so good?

This changes everything. Before this was just some sort of trial, nothing special between the two of you, something you were sure he wouldn’t end up liking anyways. But now… you start to get excited. There’s butterflies in your stomach and suddenly you’re nervous. This feels ten times more intimate than it did originally, and assumingely everyone is just watching you guys have this moment.

This goes on for a few more moments, many moments longer than you had originally anticipated. Still, you take in every bit of it. You forget where you are or what even started this. All you can think is how good Luffy’s lips feel on yours. Your fingers somehow come to intertwine on the map below you at the same time, like your bodies are in sync. His hands are smooth like rubber, and warm against yours, just like his lips.

This is perfect. You don’t want to stop. You could do this forever.

You pull back only when you feel Luffy start to. Only a few inches, faces still close. You’re both blushing with heavy breath, but your expressions couldn’t be more different. Your eyes are blown wide, still in shock from what just happened, and-

The fact that Luffys expression is—for lack of better description— lusted out. You’ve certainly never seen him look at you like this before, and you have to cover your mouth with your hand before it goes agape right in front of him.

“Um..” you push out embarrassingly sheepish behind your palm. “So.. how was that?”

You most definitely already know the answer from all of his body language, but you’d still like to know what he’s thinking.

“You were right.. that felt good.” He tells you genuinely, slowly coming to his senses again.  A shiver runs up your spine by how smoothly and assuredly his words come out. Your face is still hot and he can’t stop staring at you. This is so unexpected, all of it. You weren’t ready.

“What about you?” He asks back suddenly.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It was my first time, so, how was I?”

“It was… really good. Are you sure that was your first time?” Your question is half joking and half genuine. You know that he’s definitely never done this before but seriously that felt way too incredible for your mind to really accept that fact. Luffy puts on a big grin after hearing your words.

“Hah! I was that good, huh?” He jokes, snickering. But his grin drops when he sees you’re not laughing with him, still with the same expression. “You okay?”

“Yeah! I’m great! Fine..” You assure him, sitting up straight again and finally letting your hand down from your face. As someone who’s had feelings for him for a long time now, and had already accepted that he’d never feel the same way, even while actively kissing with him. This has totally shaken you.

“LUFFYYYYYYY!!!!” Comes a familiar booming voice from your right. Uh oh.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH MY PRECIOUS [Y/N]?! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD TONGUE HER OUT ON THE DECK LIKE THIS AND GET AWAY WITH IT?!” He shouts as he grabs your captain by his vest and shakes him around.

“H-HUH?! TONGUE?! WHATS DO YOU MEAN?!” He shouts back, completely dazed and confused.

“DONT ACT OBLIVIOUS WITH ME! HOW DARE YOU CORRUPT HER PURE AND FRAGILE MIND WITH YOUR PERVERTED ACTIONS!! ARE YOU NOT ASHAMED?! YOURE HER CAPTAIN!!”

You stare in utter shock at those two, frozen in place. What can you even do here? Sanji is way too worked up for you to get a word in.

“BUT-SANJI-“ Luffy starts to protest.

“I DONT WANNA HEAR IT BUCKO. IM GONNA MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS YOU HEAR ME?!-“

“SANJI!!!” Nami’s incoming voice booms even louder from behind him before he can say anything else. She gives him a hard smack on the head, knocking him out cold. Your jaw drops, though you really shouldn’t be shocked at something like that at this point.

“So sorry to interrupt! Continue!” She insists quickly as she goes to drag Sanji’s now unconscious body away from you guys.

“Uh. That’s okay. I was planning on going to bed soon anyways, I’m tired.” Luffy speaks up, making her stop and bringing your attention back to him. He outstandingly quickly seems to have gotten over all that shaking and screaming from just now.

“Tell Sanji I’m sorry for whatever he was upset about when he wakes up, kay?”

He then promptly stands and begins to walk towards the quarters. Both yours and Namis eyes follow him.

“Oh, um.. sure. If you say so.” She says, sounding a bit confused.

“[Y/n].” He says as he comes to a brief stop, not far from you yet.

“Yeah?”

“Earlier all that stuff you described, I think I felt that just now… Does that mean I like you?” He asks without looking at you for some reason. Your eyes widen, his question ten times more intense than he makes it sound. You cant even believe what you just heard.

“I.. I wouldn’t know. Only you would know that..” You force yourself to say, even though you wish you could just tell him yes. But was that a form of confession or not? Luffy’s always been unique and done things differently, you doubt he’d ever confess to you normally if that were a possibility. Or, you suppose it is a possibility now.

“Hm.. alright. Well! Cya tomorrow.” He says easily, waving his hand and walking until he’s inside and out of sight.

Both you and Nami have no words. She’s staring at you while you continue to stare at the door, but you both share the same disbelief.

“Well, I guess we owe you two hundred fifty thousand berries each now.” Zoro says, having walked up at some point, you’re not really sure when.

“Yeah I mean… I gotta admit you proved us wrong entirely..” Nami agrees slowly, clearly still dumbfounded.

“Forget it.” You tell them. “I don’t want it anymore.”

“Huh?! Seriously?!” Zoro shouts in disbelief, probably never used to being relieved of debt thanks to one of your friends.

“[Y/n], are you alright? Just what happened??” Nami asks you, not really all that concerned with the bet now, same as you.

“I’m great! I’m…”  You slowly turn your head, finally looking over to your friend. Your hand comes up to rest over your mouth again, and you feel like you can still feel his lips on yours. You’re just still in total disbelief. You kissed Luffy. Not only that, but he liked kissing you, he wanted to do it.

“I just cant believe… He said he enjoyed it.. and earlier he was even trying to keep me from stopping.”

“Seriously?? Aww, [Y/N]!” Nami tells you with a smile. Despite always showing her moreso disapproval (and sometimes disgust) at your long-term crush on the captain, of course she’s still happy for you. All this time she’d given you advice and a shoulder to lean on about the whole thing, she was the only person you really told (though you’re sure maybe others have caught on). She never thought it was possible to get the captain to feel that type of thing, his aspirations too big seemingly to have any interest. This is a big surprise for both of you.

“Alright, you ladies can gossip about the details, but I don’t need to hear it so I’m out.” Zoro says, a little uncomfortable clearly. “But you’re serious about dropping the bet?”

“Yeah.. I don’t want the whole thing to be tainted by it being some bet. Let’s just pretend that never happened and… don’t tell Luffy, please.” You tell them both seriously and they nod, obviously having no objections to not having to pay you that amount anymore.

You then get bombarded by some of the others for a moment, all asking you a bunch of questions at once that you don’t really want to answer even if you could. You still need time to process this. Your best friend Nami obviously knows this, and forces them all to leave you alone so you can go to bed. You thank her and head to your room.

You realize something before you’re about to fall asleep. Just what exactly is this going to mean for the future on the ship?

[mammons-lover]

Prank Gone Pregnant [Happy New Years!]

MC (grinning mischievously at Mammon's camera): Hey guys, welcome back! Today, I’m going to prank my boyfriend by pretending to break up with him. Let’s see how hard he panics. Spoiler: It’s Mammon, so… a lot. Let’s do this.

MC (fake sniffling, eyes cast down): Mammon, sweetie…

Mammon (striding over dramatically, already looking concerned): Yeah, babe? What’s wrong? You okay?

MC (turning their head away to stifle a laugh, voice trembling for effect): I think… it’s time we break—

Mammon (interrupting with wide eyes, completely serious): I’m pregnant.

MC (now genuinely stunned, blinking): Wait. What?

Mammon (doubling down like his life depends on it, hand over his heart): Yeah, you heard me. Pregnant. Bun in the oven. Lil’ Mammon Jr. on the way.

MC (trying not to lose it, but also trying to keep it logical): Mammon, that’s literally not possible. You’re a—

Mammon (jumping to his feet, hands on hips, voice dripping with indignation): Oh, so now you don’t want OUR baby?!

MC (deadpan): You’re male!

Mammon (scoffing like this is the least of their concerns): And I’m also a demon, something ya didn’t even know existed till you landed here! Maybe you need to stop slackin’ in bio class, MC!

MC (completely breaking character, laughing): Oh my god, I love you, babe. And I love how far you’re willing to go to keep me, but—

Mammon (dropping to his knees mid-sentence, clutching at MC’s hands dramatically): Please don’t leave me! I’ll DIE! I’ll do anything! Beg, grovel, get a second job, whatever you want!

MC (still giggling): Mammon! Let me finish! I was gonna say it’s a prank!

Mammon (pausing, looking betrayed): A PRANK?! You got me cryin’ over here for a PRANK?!

MC (trying to hold in laughter, patting his shoulder): I’m sorry, but once you hit me with the ‘I’m pregnant’, I had to see this through!

Mammon (standing dramatically, wiping his tears): Well, guess what? You’re not sleepin’ in my bed tonight. And we’re OVER.

MC (mock-pouting): Aw, c’mon, Mammon, don’t be like that—

Mammon (cutting them off immediately, arms crossed but already relenting): No, wait, I take it back. We ain’t over. But I’m still mad. You’re on thin ice!

MC (grinning): I’ll make it up to you with snacks?

Mammon (grumbling, but already caving): …Fine. But only ‘cause I’m pregnant and I need to eat for two!

(Enter Leviathan, standing nearby with headphones half-off, looking completely bewildered as he stares after them.)

Leviathan: Wait. WHAT THE FUCK?! Mammon’s PREGNANT?!

Mammon (yelling back over his shoulder): Yeah, Levi! Start plannin’ the baby shower!

Leviathan (suddenly panicking, pacing): Oh my daivolo, I’m gonna be an uncle! We need to babyproof the house! There’s sharp corners everywhere, and that stair railing is a death trap! Do demons even have car seats?! Someone get me a checklist—WHERE’S THE CHECKLIST?!

{Haven’t posted any fics lately? Uhh… do we even call these fics? 🤔 Who knows! Anyway, I seriously miss making them, but college is not what I expected (first semester, woo-hoo! 🥲) and, uh… I'm definitely failing three classes. BUT!! I’ve figured out how to balance college and life, so next semester is gonna be great!. I miss writing, though, so you better believe more is coming soon! Stay tuned, besties!}

[reiderwriter]

📃 Desk Duty 📃

Unit Chief Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: After taking a bullet on a case, Spencer orders you to desk duty. After two months of pushing papers and his pushing you away for fear of hurting you, you've had enough.

Warnings: Established BDSM scenario, public sex, masturbation (female and male), mentions of sex toys, breaking and entering, multiple orgasms, squirting, shoe riding, slapping (ass, face, pussy), wet/dirty/messy sex, deep-throaring, face fucking, exhibitionism, risky sex, creampie, sloppy sex, pet play (puppy), Hard Dom Spencer, bratty sub reader, degradation (slut, whore, bitch used). Confessions of love at the end because I'm not a monster.

A/N: Hello, it's me, painfully single, back with another in a series of fics that I think will haunt my (wet) dreams for eternity. Thank you to @lightvixxen for requesting shoe riding all those moons ago, I am so glad we share in the same brand of brain rot. Enjoy~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

The first time you were shot, you were surprised it hurt so much. Of course, you knew it was going to hurt. You knew you'd eventually be shot. 

But the graze to your arm stung like a bitch, and had you whimpering on the floor of a warehouse like a small child who'd fallen off their bike for the first time. 

You'd picked yourself back up, and, luckily, the shot had avoided doing any serious damage, but you were relegated to desk duty for two months after. Just until you could prove you weren't traumatised, and there wasn't any permanent damage to your arm.

Two months of staying home while your boss gallivanted around the country, happily diving in front of bullets and jumping on bombs. Two months of staying home waiting for him to come back and rail you. 

You'd been sleeping with Spencer Reid practically since he'd become the Unit Chief, and with the announcement that there were only a few more weeks left until Emily Prentiss came back from her special task force, you were really losing time alone in the office you'd been enjoying the pleasures of one another in. 

Of course, there would still be motel rooms for you later, but soon he wouldn't have the keys to your room, making your secret trysts slightly riskier. You weren't sure you wanted everyone in the office to know just what it was the two of you were getting up to in your spare time. 

So, with your last two months of freedom relegated to desk duty, you sulked. 

Spencer was clear that he was leaving you behind so you could recuperate, but you didn't exactly expect him to go cold turkey. 

You'd been apart before, having been sent on separate inmate interviews, and you'd made do with a poorly connected video call, a dildo and your hands, getting all the inspiration you needed watching him pump his cock in his fist.  

But somehow, your injury had made him borderline chaste, and he refused to even touch you while you were still in - his words, not yours - recovery. 

It had been a month since he'd fucked you. Hell, it had been a month since you'd even seen his cock. A month since you'd had any kind of orgasm, first because your dominant hand had been out of action, and then because you'd felt so frustrated without him, you couldn't bring yourself to do it alone. 

He messaged you daily, called practically once every eight hours, and made sure you were eating and sleeping even from halfway across the country. 

But he didn't make any mention of your growing frustration, even as you tried your best to tempt him into sin. 

A month into purgatory, you'd started hinting at your own needs. Your teammates had taken a case in Atlanta, and you'd stuck behind a days drive away and heard absolutely nothing. 

You'd called, and Luke had picked up, making his presence known before you could royally screw up and beg for something to fuck. 

“H-Hi, Luke. I was just wondering how the case was going. Is there anything I can help with from the office?” You asked, stammering on the phone as you pulled your hand out from between your thighs. 

“You want to help? At 11pm at night?”

“Sure do! You know me… go-getter?” You stuttered the words, not even believing them yourself, biting your lip in anxiety and hoping that Luke would just think you were going stir crazy. 

“I'll hand you to Reid, he's been talking about some case files you might be able to help with.” 

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. 

You heard the phone switch hands, and then you heard movement until the line went quieter, and Spencer's voice popped into your ear. 

“Y/N?” 

“I miss you,” you sighed before you could say anything else, fingers sliding between your thighs before you could think to stop yourself. 

“I miss you, too,” he whispered hesitantly, but you heard the smile in his voice as he answered. 

“You're working so late tonight, I'd hoped…” you trailed off, feeling your skin heat as your free hands lipped into your underwear and you touched yourself for real this time. 

“We think he's working under the same MO as the Night Stalker, like a copycat, so we're keeping to late hours. What's that sound?” 

“Nothing,” you said, giving your lie away almost immediately with a moan. 

“Are you… Y/N, are you touching yourself?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

“I told you I missed you. It's been a month since you've touched me, someone has to do it-” 

“Stop it.” 

His words were blunt, and there was no hint of excitement in them, no telling if he was saying this so he could play a part in your unravelling. 

“What?” 

“Stop touching yourself. Y/N, you are not allowed to touch yourself.” 

“Not-? Spencer, what the fuck!” You exploded, sitting up from your comfortable position on the bed, set alight in indignance. 

“I'm the only one that gets to touch you like that, you're not allowed to cum unless I'm there,” he ground out, and just as you heard the smile in his voice earlier, you heard the frustration and arousal now. 

“Well, Spencer, if you'd have brought me along on this case instead of leaving me here, maybe you'd get a say in who gets to make me cum.” 

“Y/N, you're injured, and you haven't been cleared to fly. A doctor needs to-”

“You're a doctor. Technically. You could sign off on me. You could've had me right there in your bed tonight, but no.” 

He scoffed down the line, and you saw his face flash so vividly in your head that it pissed you off. He was hotter when he was angry. 

“Nice try. I tried that myself once, but it doesn't work. Now go to sleep and get some rest.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he hung up. His words lit a fire in the pit of your stomach, and you threw the phone down in frustration. 

He wasn't listening again, and you were sick of it, and you we're sick of pushing paper at a cubical when you should've been out in the field doing your actual job. You were sick of being celibate and at home alone, when you should've been in a dark corner somewhere letting your boss use your body, letting him pin you to the wall and work out his frustrations.  

You should've had your lips wrapped around his cock, you should've had his hands buried in your cunt, slapping your ass, his teeth teasing your nipples, something. 

Instead, you had your phone camera and a bed, and a personal vendetta against the word 'no' coming from Spencer Reid's mouth. If he wanted you to stop touching yourself, he'd better get his ass home and make you. 

Shedding your clothes, you set up your camera and began your week long crusade. 

The first video received a response in the form of a call you let go straight to voice mail as you recorded the second one. 

He didn't call again after that, but you knew he watched each and every video you sent. 

You knew he watched the video of you fucking yourself on a wall mounted dildo in the shower. You wondered if he let him imagine it was him, taking his cock in hand in the morning as he washed and prepared himself for the day. 

You knew he watched the video of you playing with your boobs alone in the elevator at work after hours. You wondered if he was still working late when he saw that one, or if, like last time, maybe Luke had grabbed his phone first and seen it before him. . 

You knew he watched the video you shot in his apartment. It wasn't that hard to get into, knowing exactly where the spare key was hidden and letting yourself in comfortably. You let yourself dress in one of his shirts and set the camera up, pushing a bullet vibe inside yourself, and turning on the camera, playing with the hem of the shirt and the sheets below until you finally flashed the camera and him the sight of your wet cunt. 

You filmed a few videos there, fingering yourself, spreading yourself so he could see just how far you'd opened yourself up for him, sinking down on to progressively bigger silicone cocks and mumbling his name over and over again. 

You knew he watched every video, even though you'd sent ten over the space of an evening. You knew he was likely somewhere stroking his large, hot cock, wishing he was buried deep in you, but too stubborn to let you know that now. 

The day after the case ended, you knew that his return meant punishment, but you couldn't stop yourself. 

An hour before the teams expected arrival time, you excused yourself to Spencer's office. The first time he'd fucked you had been in there. He'd pushed you over his lap and slapped some sense into you, spanking you until you were a drippy mess waiting for his cock to enter you sharp and fast. 

You'd since sucked his cock under the desk more times than you could count, and the view from the window was more than familiar to you as you enjoyed being pushed up against it as he took you from behind, the both of you revelling in the fact that anyone could see you defiling the building together. 

With half an hour to spare before he returned and ended your fun and games, you mounted the arm of his couch and began rubbing yourself against it. You rocked your hips slowly back and forth against it - as horny as you were, it was still embarrassing to be so horny you'd resulted to humping pieces of furniture to meet your needs. 

You'd thought about getting drunk and finding a random dick to take home with you, but it didn't interest you half so much as fucking with Spencer Reid did. You'd never had the talk about exclusivity, but you knew just as well as he did that you were locked in. He was your boyfriend, whether he realised it or not.

And now, you simply needed his cock so badly, nothing else would do. The closest you could get was a piece of furniture he'd fucked you on before. 

You slipped your panties off quickly as your timer sounded a ten minute warning, knowing his plane would be landing any second now. You'd factored in the walk from the jet to the office, praying to the gods above that he took the initiative to get ahead on paperwork instead of going straight home. 

You rocked back and forth on the arm of the couch until his door opened narrowly and he let himself in, just as your clit rubbed the corner of the couch and you moaned out gloriously. 

“Y/N,” he hissed as he slammed the door shut. You didn't stop even as he crossed the room and grabbed your hips, instead lunging for his lips and meeting them with your own. 

Your tongue clashed with him for the first time in a lifetime, and you whimpered at how good he still felt pressed up against you. His chest was a solid shield, and your puffy nipples pushed up against it, rubbing deliciously with each grind. His hands were large, his fingers long as they clawed themselves around your hips and drew you up.

“You just can't follow orders, can you?” He asked between kisses, between breaths where you weren't sure if he'd slap you or shove his fingers down your throat. “I should fire you,” he whispered as he reluctantly pulled away. 

“But Spencer,” you said, gasping jokingly as you pawed at the front of his pants. “Who would you fuck on cases then? Who would be your controversially young fuck doll?” 

You meant it to be a joke, but the slap he delivered to your ass made you think twice as you clapped a hand over your mouth. 

His hands roughly pulled you into him again, and you were unable to rise up enough again before he hit you again. You jilted forwards with a little moan and just gave in to the sensation, pressing your face into the pillows as your hips rose. 

“You're acting like such a desperate little slut, I don't think you deserve to even lick my cock. Fuck, I don't even think you deserve to lick my shoe,” his words cut deep as you realised how angry he was, his fingers tangling in your hair he yanked you upwards. 

“Wait, please - Spencer, please, I need-” 

“Need what? You need to suck cock? You need to put yourself on display in a public place? Need everyone around you to know just what it is we do when we're alone?” With each question, he worked on bruising your ass cheeks harder, until he finally pushed you to the floor, and you sank down, automatically spreading your legs for him. 

“Pathetic. You don't deserve this cock, baby.” 

“No!” You cried out, not willing to accept that outcome at all as you panicked. “I'll do anything, please, Spencer, I'll do anything!” 

You whimpered and cried out in real frustration and fear, knowing that he absolutely would kick you out if you didn't act fast. Spencer may have been fine with you taking control some days, but this obviously wasn't one of them. You sat yourself on your knees and clasped your hands together, attempting to seem half the serious devotee and half the irresistible vixen whose chest was accentuated by the movement.

“Okay. Show me just how much of a desperate slut you are,” he said, lifting his foot from the ground and nudging it between your thighs. 

Reluctantly, you widened your stance, spreading apart just enough for him to notch his shoe against your clothed pussy. 

“Ride my shoe, Y/N. You're such a good little boot-licker. It shouldn't be a problem, right?” As if to answer your own question for you, he bobbed his knee gently, and your clit ground into the edge of his shoelaces, causing a sharp, fast burst of pleasure to spark through you. 

You still were too shocked to answer, but he smoothed your hair from your eyes as he continued to bounce his foot, and you left all of your concerns behind, slowly grinding down. 

“What a dirty little slut, I didn't think you'd actually do it.”

Wrapping your arms around his leg, you pressed your hips up and down hesitantly, looking into his eyes as your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. 

“That's it, good girl,” he said, letting his leg go still as you did all the work, shaking your hips back and forth on his shoe as you gave him pleading looks, unable to form words for the overwhelming shame and embarrassment.  

“You look like a puppy,” he blurted out, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling it back, hard, exposing your throat to him as he watched you with curious eyes. “Like one of those puppies who gets so excited to see you, she starts humping you. So fucking horny and desperate. You wouldn't even care who was in the room with us, right now, would you? You'd just keep going until yiu came.” 

You gasped as he slapped your face, tongue falling out of your mouth as he inspected his little play puppy. He smiled, as if happy with your reactions, and leant back on the sofa, releasing your hair from his grip as you continued to struggle in vain toward your orgasm. 

It was another two or three seconds before you realised he was pulling his hard cock from his pants, and another moment or two before he slid his hands back into your hair and guided your dumb, stupid, wet mouth over the top of his cock quickly. 

You let him move your head just how he liked, let him push you down almost farther than you thought you could go. You ground your bare clit down into his shoe as you deepened your breaths, relaxing your body as you took inch after inch of his cock down your throat. 

His hands were wound so tight in your hair that there wasn't space to move. You gagged, once and twice, but he held you in place still, enjoying the spit that spluttered around the base of his cock, the spasms of your contracting throat against the tip and length of his cock. You breathed deeply, ignoring the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your nose, scratching your cheek as you flattened out your tongue under his cock. You wished he would move, wished he would give you the space you needed to cum faster. 

The desperation of the last few months built up and built up, and you knew that you were close to cumming, your hips rocking out of tempo now, crashing into his foot wildly, ass shaking as you felt his shoelaces rubbing uncomfortably against your thighs. 

“God, what a pathetic little bitch, are you going to cum? Cum on my shoe, whore, show me how fucking desperate you are.” 

You felt the exact moment your body convulsed against him, you knew the exact movement that made you cum, because you felt the flood of moisture pool underneath you as you squirted all over his floor. You made a note of reminding him to replace the rug before Emily returned. 

Your whole body shook as you sat in the pool of your own cum, but he refused to let you pull away. 

“Has my little puppy made a mess? What a shame. You can't stop yet, though.” 

His grip on your face somehow became stronger, though not unpleasant, as he pulled your head up the length of his cock. You spluttered slightly, feeling the tension slip out of you as he emptied your throat. You didn't have more than a second to react before he quickly snapped your head back down over his cock, down to the base of his dick. 

“Keep up, Y/N, this is what you wanted, remember.” 

You choked on his cock, and he smiled down at you, taking your gags for nods as he proceeded to fuck your throat, deep and hard. 

“So wet and warm for me, like a perfect little pet,” he said, hips already lifting off the couch as he tried to sink deeper into you. 

You knew from experience that he'd soon grow tired of the limits of your mouth. He liked to hear you. He liked to see you drooling rather than feel it on his skin. As much as he could force his cock down your throat - and you deeply enjoyed when he did - he could get deeper if he sank into your pussy and you both knew it. 

This part was just to lube his cock up, nice and wet, until he could take you nice and quick without having to touch your pussy. He needed you nice and wet and ready for him, especially on days like today where you'd been nothing but a cock tease in need of a harsh fucking. You deserved nothing more.

As predicted, he pulled your head off his cock after a few seconds and hauled you to your feet. You tried to climb onto him, to grip his cock in your hand and just sink down where you belonged, but he stood, too, lifting you up with him. 

“Window,” he said, and you knew he must be close if he was ordering you around one word at a time. You nodded, but he kept his hands on you, moving you to the window quickly. 

You knew he'd bend you over, take you against the outdoor window, whispering in your ear that anyone outside could see you if they just looked up. Instead, this time, he moved you to the opposite side of the office. The window he pressed you against was the one overlooking your desks, the one where, should he happen to open the blinds, every member of your team would be able to look up and watch you take his dick. 

“Everyone left,” he whispered quickly as he shifted the blinds up an inch so you could see. 

You breathed a sigh of relief noting that it was as empty as he claimed, but it didn't last long as he gently pressed his cock into your cunt, finally filling you how you'd needed to be filled for the last 60 days. 

“Fuck, t-thank you, sir!” 

All thoughts about the office below faded as he lifted your leg in his hand and let it rest on the edge of the window, pushing your face against the cold glass. Your office may have been empty, but that wasn't to say that there wasn't someone working late in the other departments, a janitor happening to pass through. 

You knew, but you didn't care as you begged him to fill you up more and more. 

“Just like that, just like that, yes!!! Fuck yes, Spencer I missed this, I missed you. Missed you so much,” you moaned as your hands slipped down the glass, already fogged with condensation, your hot breath hitting the cold glass. 

“Needed this? You've been fucking yourself nightly for the last week. You didn't need this like I needed this,” he moaned, biting into your neck with a sharp kiss as you moaned loudly for him.

“Two m-months. You haven't fucked me for two months, what else was I supposed to do?” 

He groaned in your ear again, reaching a hand around you and slapping your clit as he formulated an answer. 

“Rest, you were supposed to rest,” he said, thrusts speeding up as your cunt gripped him tighter and tighter the closer you got to your second orgasm. 

He groaned and pressed your face into the glass, holding you there and screwing his eyes shut as you both chased release. 

“I didn't want to rest, I w-wanted to be by your side.” 

His head rested against your shoulder as he felt the last waves of pleasure race towards him. His hand pushed down to your clit and rubbed you, sending you right over the edge with him as he filled you with his cum. 

Neither of you could stay upright, collapsing down to the floor in a heap. Usually when he came inside you, he waited a few moments to pull out so he didn't make so much mess when he did. But in his exhaustion, in your shared bliss of finally reaching that precipice after so long, he slipped out early, as cum was still shooting from him. 

You heaped together on the floor, chests heaving as you lay on top of him, your peace only broken by a single thought. 

“We..-’ you gasped, breathing unsteady. “We need to deep clean this office before Emily comes back.” 

He looked down at you, a look so serious and shocked you wondered if he was angry. And then he laughed. Short and soft, he giggled, and you couldn't help but join in, wrapping your arms around your stomach as it began to hurt, chest heaving from the pain of all your joy. 

He sat up and gave you a hand up as well as you surveyed the damage. 

“The rug has to go,” you said, feeling hot and embarrassed as you noticed the new wet stain on the near offensive fluffy thing. 

“We should probably get some new throw pillows, too,” he remarked, and you nodded with a grimace. You made to stand up, but your legs felt weak, and you wobbled, but he was there to catch you, as he stood. 

"Maybe just a new couch," you muttered, flushed with heat as you remembered how you'd humped the arm rest not even twenty minutes ago.

He closed the blinds before moving back to the couch and sitting you down on his lap once again, such a familiar place for you to be these days.

“You….” He started, worrying g his bottom lip with his teeth. “You really missed me?” 

You startled, taken aback by the question. You thought the videos had made it clear, let alone the last half hour of intimacy. 

“I… Yes, Spencer. I missed you a lot. I always miss you.” 

“You… you do?” 

You nodded again and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Y/N, when I am no longer your boss, in approximately a weeks time, would you possibly consider being my girlfriend?” 

For the second time in the last two minutes, the man had you floored. And perhaps a little bit angry.

“I'm not… I'm not your girlfriend now?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I-” 

“Because I already told my friends about you, and I was definitely saying the word boyfriend, but if that's not what this is, I can correc-” 

You saw the panicked look in his eye as he pulled you in for one last kiss. 

“That's what this is!” he said frantically, cutting you off when you opened your mouth with another kiss. “I thought you wouldn't think that this was- no!” He kissed you again as you tried again to speak. 

“Listen to me! I'm o-older than you, I thought I had to ask still. Do people not ask anymore?” He kissed you before you could answer. 

“Rhetorical question.”

“I love yo-” you attempted to confess, but his lips covered yours swiftly, even as his eyes opened wide when he pulled away. 

“Wait, no, say that again,” he begged, eyes weak and shiny and absolutely endearingly pathetic. 

You shook your head and sealed your lips, miming, zipping them shut and throwing away the key. 

“Y/N! Tell me again, tell me you love me again,” he said, kissing each of your cheeks. You poked his chest hard, and he kissed you once more. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, and kissed you again, trying to draw from your lips the words he had cut off earlier, losing himself in the pleasure of the moment as you sat together in the dark office, totally enamoured with one another. 

[loveyislost]

gojo x fem reader tags: strap on/pegging, bratty gojo, bodily fluids, language, 18+ minors dni, not proofread, first time posting a full length smut fic so this is possibly shit, might delete if I decide I hate it, but here it is for now

you can’t help but smirk, thumbs tracing along the soft dimples at the small of gojo’s back, adding pressure until he sinks further into a pretty arch, your boyfriends slutty little waist only further accentuated.

his whines echo throughout your room, so different from the usual moans that leave his lips when he’s the one railing you into the plush mattress.

“why’re you whimperin’ at me like that, babe? you’re the one who asked for this.” you slam your hips forward sharply, his ass rippling, lewd sound of flesh slapping reaching your ears, “or did you forget that already?”

gojo just babbles into his silk pillowcase, wet with a mix of his tears and drool, both leaking steadily down his face, “don’t- don’t stop.”

a laugh leaves your throat, head tipping back, “yeah? you like this? like being my little slut?”

your hand lifts above him, coming down sharply on his ass, pink handprint quickly appearing on the smooth, pale skin.

“such a good fucking boy, taking my strap like that for me.”

ignoring his pleas for more, you slip your hands to his cheeks, taking a thick handful of each, spreading them apart to watch the sparkly, baby blue strap, the one gojo insisted must match his eyes, going in and out of his puffy hole.

the rim is swollen, squeezing tight around the smooth silicone, pink and sloppy. it holds onto the dildo every time you pull out, trying to draw you back inside his needy ass.

“fuckkk, look at that.” you deliver a second, stinging spank to his flushing butt, “gonna have to do this more often”

gojo groans, throwing his hips back, meeting your thrusts, “roll- roll your hips up- fuck-“

your brows furrow, hands taking hold of his waist again, as you obey his request. on the next thrust, you angle your movements upwards, and the effect is immediately.

his arms collapse, cheek now fully smushed against the pillow, lips pouted out almost comically from the position. blue eyes roll back, a shuddering gasp leaving him from somewhere deep in his body, legs spasming under him.

your pussy is practically gushing onto the sheets below you, and you don’t even care that you aren’t getting any stimulation, not with such a pretty sight spread out below you.

you copy your last moment, harder this time, and his cock jumps between his legs, leaking steadily onto the sheets that are most definitely going to require a wash when you’re done.

when you speak, your voice takes on a teasing tone, head tilting as you peer down at him, eyes half lidded, “like this babe? is this what you wanted?”

he doesn’t answer with words this time, just emitting a strangled whine, hips halfheartedly rolling back against you, expression utterly fucked out.

you have half a mind to stop, to play dumb, to refuse to do anything until he uses his words, the way he’s tortured you countless times.

but how could you? it would be more of a punishment for you, after all, to miss out on those pretty sounds and expressions for even a second.

so you don’t, you just rub his hips gently, thrusts smoother now as you get used to the movement, cooing down softly at him, “you close bubs, gonna cum on my strap?”

he nods, head lolling limply with each move of his head, “uh huhhh…”

cute, your lips lift in a soft smile, somehow finding him endearing even with a cock up his pretty ass.

fingers slide down his body, down between his legs, gently wrapping around his blushing, pink cock, stroking in time with your thrusts, “c’mon, baby. what do you need?”

he finally manages to speak up, voice strained, sobbing out, “faster, faster please.”

you oblige, rocking your hips up quickly, and he keens, toes curling, tongue sliding out, a sound he didn’t even know he could make leaving his lips.

within seconds his cock is twitching in your hand, balls drawing up close to his body, ass tightening around you.

and he cums.

white spurts of his seed shoot out, soaking the sheets with strand after strand of his load, back arching, his legs now giving out too.

you don’t stop, fucking him through his orgasm, slowly stopping your thrusts as he comes down from his high.

when his breathing finally evens out, eyes fluttering open again, you gently slip your strap out of him, removing it from your hips so you can collapse beside him, pulling him into your arms.

“you okay, ‘toru? wasn’t too rough on you?”

he mumbles something out, nuzzling his face into your chest.

“what’s that?”

gojo sighs, melting further into you, “coulda gone harder. thought you said you were gonna fuck me dumb.”

your eyes widen, an incredulous laugh coming from you, “satoru, i thought you passed out for a second, it’s way too late to play it cool.”

he just shrugs, letting out a sigh, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“god, you’re a fucking brat…”

[ferrarifinnick]

RESURFACE! | LANDO NORRIS, 4.

*REWRITTEN! this new version is IT!!! think i fell in love while writing this. where does one acquire a yacht so i can make this my reality ??? also, first lando fic woo!! what do you think? anyway, enjoy!

warnings: masterbation, pda, fantasising, a little bit of public play, oral (f receiving), teasing, squirting, uncomfortable eye contact, charles leclerc, ruined orgasm.

1.9k words

lando really tried. he tried, but no matter how long he racked his brain for, he never got any closer to understanding why wet hair got him so hot. and not just any wet hair, only yours.

it started in monaco. one afternoon, far out in the sea on his shiny new sailing boat, he got the clever idea of daring you to jump into the salty water with him.

with his hands on your waist, he begged. “come on,” he said, pulling you closer to the railings on the side of the boat.

you pushed his chest weakly and said, “don’t want to get my hair wet, lan,” but it hadn’t convinced him to back down.

“do it for me, baby,” he tried again, big hands pulling your hips against his. “gonna look so pretty all wet.”

he meant a lot of things by this, and part of him meant exactly what you were thinking. but what he hadn’t meant was your hair. not specifically at least.

but when your hips wiggled out of his hold and you swung a leg over the railing, he wasted no time climbing over with you. he wrapped a strong arm over your chest once you settled on the other side, letting his fingers snap at the strap of your bikini top.

“ready, baby?” he asked, his free arm rested between the railing and the back of your leg, his pinky finger tracing over the side of your thigh.

he spotted a snag in your brow, and recognising the oncoming wave of doubt, he chose to strike. he slid his hand under your bikini top and squeezed your breast, pinching your nipple and rolling it before you could entertain the thought of backing out.

you slapped at his hand. “lando!” you gasped, glancing over at your friends on the other side of the yacht.

“yes, pretty girl?” he said, and who were you to say no to such a sweet little smile? even if it was intending to fool you, you melted at it and threw away your doubts for it. your hand slid around his wrist, peeling his hand from under your bikini top, and laced your fingers in his.

and with your hand joint together, you leapt off the side of the boat, broke through the surface of the salty water together. but only you resurfaced.

lando held his breath. under the privacy of the disturbed water, he swam down until his face was level with your fluttering legs. his hands once again found your hips, but this time he took hold of your bikini bottoms.

he slowly slid them down your kicking legs until they rested halfway down your thighs. still kicking your legs to float, lando waited until he become familiar with your motions. he waited until he spotted a gap between your kicking thighs, one that was big enough for his head. his open mouth pushed out the salt water, and he licked a stripe over your exposed slit. even under water he could taste you.

your thighs clenched and you bucked your hips into his touch. lando’s cheeks stretched for his grin, and he kept grinning as he circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves, holding you hostage with big strong hands to your thighs. but eventually, he had to resurface to take a breath.

but he couldn’t breathe when he joined you above the water.

he couldn’t breathe because he worried the sudden rush of blood to his cock might weigh him down to the seabed.

there you were, treading water and scowling at him, and yet all he could see was the salt water in your hair. weighing it down, darkening it, plastering strands of it over your damp forehead.

lando couldn’t look away.

“you’re not drowning, are you?” you asked him, and for a moment he considered that’s what might be happening. swallowing mouthfuls of salt water, losing the fight to stay afloat, all because his cock was vacuuming the blood from his legs. it was quite wonderful, really. his brain kindly blocking out the fear of impending doom so that his final picture could be of you.

moments passed and suddenly lando was very aware that he was not drowning. he couldn’t be, because if he was drowning, he wouldn’t have been able to slip a hand under his bloated swim shorts and squeeze his solid cock.

you didn’t notice. you obliviously treaded water, and even though the motion made your breasts bounce, lando couldn’t find it in him to notice. and lando always noticed your breasts.

“lando?” you asked again and only then did he realise he’d not answered you. he’d just been fisting his cock underwater, barely treading water enough to keep his head above the surface.

worse, he forgot his friends were in view.

he glanced up at the boat, and to his relief, everybody was busy looking at something in another direction to his one.

he released his cock nonetheless and slipped his hand out of his swim shorts. he moved it to your ass cheek and leaned in to press a kiss to your wet cheek.

“spaced out for a second there,” he lied.

“nearly drowned, more like,” you shot back, and he cupped a hand and dragged it up, splashing your face with water. the shriek was enough to satisfy lando that he’d quashed any suspicion you might’ve had about his drowning.

you planted a kiss to his lips and made for the ladder on the side of the boat. as you swam, your hair suffered the blows of salty waves, and lando’s shorts suddenly grew even tighter. when you re-emerged on the ladder, your hair was heavy, dark, sleek, and so dense with the water that eagerly dripped down your back, over the curve of your ass, and down the thighs he’d just stuffed his head between. he wondered, naturally, if water would drip from your hair onto his cock if you sucked him off right now

“you coming?” he heard you call, already halfway up the ladder on the side of the yacht.

“soon,” he promised, and gestured for you to get back on deck.

and he kept his promise. he swam to the ladder after you’d settled back on the boat, spread across some cushions strewn across the deck. lando climbed up a few steps, but only to the point where he could just about make out your whole body.

he glanced over at where his friends were gathered on the other end of the boat. perfect. they were too busy throwing back beers to notice the absence of either of you, and they probably wouldn’t even notice lando perched on the ladder if they happened to glance over. probably.

satisfied, lando peeked up at you, one arm curled through the rungs of the ladder as his other hand squeezed at the tent in his shorts. he kept himself shielded behind the railing, which at this angle would hide him from you if you turned around to look in his direction.

he doubted you would. not while you laid on your tummy, nose in a magazine, thong wedged immodestly between your ass cheeks. but lando paid no mind to anything but the darkened, heavy hair that clung to your back. so, so wet

if he pressed a hand against you hair, he knew water would gush out. his cock twitched, and suddenly his hand was slipping underneath the waistband of his shorts again.

he squeezed his fingers around his painfully stiff cock and hissed as he slowly rolled his wrist up and down it. it was solid. not hard, but fucking solid. did he normally have such prominent veins that he could feel them bulge under his skin? were his balls always sticking up so high, like they too wanted to take a peek at you? he suddenly thought about asking you those questions with his cock pointed right at your face.

he should show you his painfully stiff cock and let you examine him. you’d know. you’d have all the answers he’s looking for. he knew it, because never once has he ever had to ask you to pay attention to his cock. you were always volunteering to fall to your knees for his cock, and you’d always insist on pumping his cum over your face, down onto your tits, and sometimes you’d even get back up to your feet just to bend over for him to finish on your ass.

that’s always his favourite move of yours. what kind of a slut do you have to be to bend over and spread your ass cheeks, just so your boyfriend can choose a hole to cum at, not even in!

so yes, you’d know if his cock was ever usually this hard.

he pictured how you’d peer over your magazine right now and stare up at his cock, eyes narrowed with focus. you’d run your eyes over his thick shaft, maybe then your lips. you’d squint at the plump veins his thumb kept brushing over as he pumped to your wet hair, and maybe you’d have to run your tongue over them just to be sure.

maybe you’d take him in your mouth, to investigate his cock a little closer. he ran his index finger up the middle of his balls, the same way he thought you’d do with your tongue, and then he dragged it up to his tip, imagining the wet trail your tongue would leave behind. lando’s thumb replaced his finger to swirl around the tip, collecting the precum dribbling out of his cock. you’d lick it off. lando was certain of it, because he’d watched you do it so many times before.

you suddenly turned the page of your magazine. lando flinched at the sharp thwick and froze. he stared helplessly as you whipped your head to the side, wet hair flying over your shoulder and landing on your back with a slap. you’d caught him. he knew it. he squeezed his eyes shut pathetically and wished for you to turn back around. but then he felt the droplets of water from your hair land on his chest.

suddenly lando remembered a night you shared together in his hotel room in monza. he had your legs hooked over his shoulders, raw cock pounding your pink, sopping wet slit. he’d never seen a girl’s pussy actually pour before. but yours did. every thrust of his cock drew out a slosh of juice, until you suddenly pressed your hands against his chest in alarm, but it was too late.

over his chest, and even in his face, you covered him with your juices. he made you squirt. no, lando norris made you spray. just like lando norris made champagne bottles spray on podiums.

and here he was, perched on the side of a ladder, droplets of water – your water – dripping down his chest and landing on his cock like lube, as he pathetically pounded his cock to you.

he must have been red in the face, and he was panting so loud he worried you might catch him. but when you flicked another page and whipped another wave of droplets from your hair onto his chest, he caught the flash of your little smirk.

you knew.

his wrist sped up and he squeezed his leaking tip even tighter, as if it really was your tight pussy gripping onto him. he was bullying his cock for you. and when a droplet of water sank from your hairline to your lips, your tongue poked out to lick it.

his abs tightened and his balls shot up, and he wasn’t thrown but forced into his release.

his friends weren’t far, and you were close enough that his panting was too loud to hide from you any longer. but he didn’t care. not as much as he cared about covering your wet hair with his cum. so he hung off the side of the ladder, cock in hand, fist fucking himself through his orgasm to your wet hair as he came on the side of his own yacht.

but right as the ropes of cum shot out of his tip, charles’ head popped into view.

“lando?” he asked.

lando very nearly fucked a hole through the side of the boat as he threw his hips against it. from this new angle, charles wouldn’t be able to see his cock or the cum spilling out of it. hopefully.

charles frowned and asked, “what are you doing down there? are you stuck?”

lando caught you glancing over your shoulder at him—was that a smirk on your face?—and for a second the ropes of cum shooting out of his cock felt a little less awkward. but he quickly forgot about that as charles bent down further and offered out a hand.

“let me help you, mate.”

“no!” lando choked out, humping the side of the boat against his will. “no, it’s- i’m okay,” he said, suddenly aware that the hand charles’ motioned to take was actively being covered in cum.

charles was all he could seem to focus on now and he squeezed his eyes shut to ignore him. this isn’t the face he wanted to be cumming to.

“please go away,” lando nearly begged.

charles left right as the last dribble of cum leaked out, and in defeat lando let himself slide back into the water. he floated on his back and wondered if his sudden bad luck was to be blamed on moving to monaco.

it must be an ancestral curse. punishment for fleeing rainy britain for hot, sunny monaco. now he was to be plagued by wet hair and forced to cum looking into the eyes of his monegasque friend instead of his girlfriend. hah! that’ll show him to think twice about leaving!

and it did.

lando considered handing in his letter of resignation. selling the keys to his penthouse in monaco. going into hiding somewhere charles would never think to go looking for him.

but on his back, floating helplessly in the sea, he saw you climbing halfway down the stairs. the water still dripped down your back as you swiped your finger through the cum he left on the side of the boat. you threw your head over your shoulder, looking right into his eyes as you sucked his cum from the pad of your finger, as water droplets fell onto lands chest once again.

in view of his friends or not, he didn’t care anymore. he dipped his hand underneath the waist band of his swim shorts again, running his own cum over his cock as lube as you sank into the sea.

and when you eventually resurfaced, it was with hair so dark, so sleek, and so fucking wet.

yachting with lando… dreamy. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Catch me when I fall (2)

THIS IS DIVIDED INTO 2 PARTS CAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME🫠🫠

~ PART 1

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut

wc: 9.4k (30.6 both parts)

synopsis: An artist finds inspiration in a dancer, and the dancer finds hope inside the artist's paintings.

warnings: multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral(f and m) light bondage & restraints, fingering, spanking, face fucking, creampies

a/n: once again a hyunjin fic that i made too long hskdlc so this is the second part! enjoy🩷 (i still suck at french, and also idk shit about bowling so i skipped through it a little lmao)

~ masterlist

~ divider by @strangergraphics

As promised, you woke up to Hyunjin smiling down at you, propped up on his elbow while he caressed your face.

"Good morning, ma chérie. Did you sleep well?" he asked as you nuzzled into his palm like a kitten.

"Mhm. Did you?"

"Next to you, of course I did." he leaned down to kiss your forehead and your face flushed.

"You know, I think we should go out somewhere today, do something fun. You've been cooped up in your house and you need some fresh air in your lungs." he added.

"You're right. Though I wouldn't mind spending the entire day in bed with you." you nuzzled into his neck and Hyunjin snickered.

"Doing what?" he teased, his fingertips ghosting on your waist.

"You know..." you muttered, hiding your face in embarrassment.

"No, I don't. You have to tell me." Hyunjin smirked and you huffed and looked up at him.

"I'm not saying anything." you pouted and he laughed, kissing your pout away.

"Maybe you could show me later." he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Maybe I could." you smirked, carding your fingers through his hair.

"Besides those fun activities, is there something you want to do outside?" Hyunjin asked as he closed his eyes and sighed, basking in your touch.

"Ice skating." you said and he looked at you, chuckling nervously.

"Ice skating? I've never been." he admitted, his cheeks red.

"Really? You seem like a 'try everything at least once person', and ice skating is like a mild normal activity unlike bungee jumping and other stuff you told me you did." you chuckled.

"I guess it is. I just always avoided it for some reason. But it'll be fun to try something new with you." he smiled.

Hyunjin didn't want to leave you alone at all and you still felt a little weak, needing to have him next to you so you could lean on him. So, you spent the day together until it was evening, and you got ready, happy to finally be out and about.

Hyunjin waited for you and when you came out of your room in a cute sweater, looking bundled up and ready for the cold weather, his heart melted. He stood up from the couch, taking large strides towards you as you looked at him with eyes wide. He smirked as he stood closer, hand reaching out towards you as he hooked his finger in the belt loop on your jeans and pulled you into him.

"Precious." he whispered as he started kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, your heart beating fast as he kissed you so sweetly, making your insides burst in little fireworks. "Let's go."

The two of you first stopped at Hyunjin's house so he could get changed before you made your way to the ice skating rink, both giddy with excitement.

"So, I am going to hold onto the railing." Hyunjin said when the two of you finally stepped, or rather slipped onto the ice. You chuckled at his cute, panicked face as he gripped at the glass railing, looking absolutely lost, his eyes becoming big while he scanned the rink.

"Those people are moving really fast." Hyunjin gulped and you laughed harder.

"Go ahead, laugh at my misery." he pouted dramatically.

"Hyunjin, you will ace this as soon as you let go of your fear. Come on, give me your hand." you reached out towards him and he eyed your hand suspiciously.

"Do you trust me?" you asked softly and he looked into your eyes, his face softening immediately.

"I trust you." he said and took your hand in his.

"We'll go slowly at first." you said, leading him away from the railing.

"Oh god." he slipped a little, grabbing onto your arm with both hands.

"Relax." you tried to calm him down. "Have you ever been on rollerblades?"

"Maybe twice." he grimaced.

"Fine, channel that into your legs. Just glide slowly." you said and he huffed cutely, trying to hold his balance even though he almost slipped a few times.

He looked so adorable, holding your hand in a deathly grip as he sucked his bottom lip in, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He almost seemed like a cute child, angry at the ice for making him slip on it. Slowly, but surely Hyunjin was gliding through the ice rink with you.

"You're doing it!" you giggled.

"I'm doing it!" he giggled too, before it became a full on laugh which proved to be a mistake as Hyunjin shrieked suddenly, losing balance. You reached out for him but it was too late, he had already collided with the icy ground.

"Ouch." he wailed, grabbing at his lower back.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!" you gasped.

"My butt hurts." he pouted at you.

"It'll be fine." you chuckled, helping him up. "Skate it off." you added as he grabbed onto the railing.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be." he kept pouting as he looked at you.

"If I kiss you, will it be more fun?" you pressed closer to him and he smiled instantly.

"Mhm." he nodded fervently, his little curls bouncing around his face. You giggled as you grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your lips into his.

"Better?" you asked against his lips.

"Hmm. One more?" Hyunjin smirked.

"Sure." you chuckled, kissing him again.

It wasn't only one more but after you had finally parted, Hyunjin was more energized to try again. Pretty soon, the fall was forgotten as he got the hang of it, the two of you skating easily on the ice, the music urging you on. You couldn't stop laughing in joy, your heart swelling at the sight of Hyunjin being so truly happy.

When you finished, Hyunjin was buzzing.

"Oh my god, that was so fun! And my ass is not even hurting that much anymore." he noted and you started laughing.

"I'm glad you had fun. I knew you were going to like it." you said as the two of you started walking.

"Did you have fun?" he asked.

"Of course I did."

"That's the most important thing then. I wanted to see you smile, ma chérie, it's the prettiest thing." he smirked as your hands brushed.

You blushed immediately and he grabbed your hand, gently entwining your fingers.

"Thank you." you said, looking away from him.

"Don't hide from me." Hyunjin said, pulling you into a sweet hug. You looked up at him and the world disappeared like it always did once you got lost in his warm eyes.

"Wanna come to my place?" he whispered.

"Yes."

The two of you got some street food to eat on the way so you don't have to cook or wait for food to be ordered since you had other plans in mind.

As soon as you stepped into Hyunjin's apartment, you were pinned to the wall. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt a wave wash through your heated body.

"I missed you, mon cœur." he brushed his lips against yours. "Missed being close to you."

"H-Hyunjin." you whimpered quietly as his hands gripped at your hips, slowly sliding to your waist.

"I missed you too." you added, playing with his curls before entwining your fingers in them and pulling a little.

"Sweetheart." Hyunjin moaned when you pulled his head back and attached your lips to his neck. His legs trembled while you sucked love bites into his skin and he pressed up against you, making you feel his erection brushing against your thigh.

"Y/n." Hyunjin was losing himself, slowly grinding against you. "Mm." he moaned as you licked at the sore spots you had created.

The way he looked at you when you parted from his neck made your pussy clench. His eyes were full of hunger, darkened with lust.

"I want to try something with you." he grabbed your face gently. "Will you let me?"

"I-I don't know what it is." you stuttered, gripping at his waist.

"Let me show you, darling. You can say no if you're not into it." he smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you to his guest room. "Don't be scared." he added softly as he noticed the nervous look on your face.

You had no idea what to expect as he opened the door but it was definitely not the confusing contraption hanging from his ceiling.

"What..." you chuckled nervously. "Is that...?"

"A sex swing." Hyunjin finished your sentence with a smirk. "Thought it would be appropriate for you." he added and you smacked his arm as he laughed, your cheeks heating up.

"When did you even get it?" you asked.

"After the first night you spent here."

"Wow, you planned ahead." you giggled.

"So, you wanna try it? We don't have to." Hyunjin smiled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back into his chest. He nuzzled into your neck and exhaled, you could feel his warmth radiating onto your body and even though he seemed calm you felt his erection pressing into your ass. He wanted you so much in that moment, in any way you'd let him have you.

"I wanna try it." you whispered, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

"Really?" Hyunjin asked excitedly. "Now?"

"Yes, now." you chuckled at his eagerness. His expression changed from an excited puppy to a hungry wolf in a milisecond, making your gut swarm with excitement.

"You do know you'll be completely at my mercy, my darling?" he smirked, brushing his lips against your jaw.

"I know." you said, biting on your lip as you looked up at him with eyes full of lust.

Hyunjin turned you around, kissing you fervently as his hands grabbed at your body, asking you to take your clothes off. Your hands were busy on his body too, sliding under his shirt and touching his abs and chest. His legs buckled each time you touched him, you had such power over him as he had over you, both of you completely infatuated with one another.

When your clothes were finally off, Hyunjin's eyes traveled all over your body hungrily.

"Let's get you swingin'." he said and you chuckled, how he managed to be sexy yet silly at the same time was beyond you. He led you to the swing, assuring you it was safe as he took all the precautions, installing it and checking it beforehand.

You felt excited and a bit nervous but you knew Hyunjin would stop if you asked him to and he'd never hurt you. He helped you sit up as he strapped your hands in first, restricting your movements. Arousal grew inside you as your pussy throbbed, wet with your slick.

"Tell me if something is too tight or uncomfortable." Hyunjin said as he started strapping your legs in.

"It's fine for now." you said.

Your mind didn't process how spread open you were actually going to be until after Hyunjin had secured both your legs in, your pussy lips opening up as you were positioned in almost a complete split. You shut your eyes tight in embarrassment at being like this in front of Hyunjin.

"You're so beautiful, ma chérie." Hyunjin's voice sounded husky as his fingertips traveled on your inner thighs to your tummy and waist, teasing you as you twitched under each and every touch of his, making you open your eyes and look at him.

"Une œuvre d'art." he whispered as he slid his fingers through your welcoming folds.

You moaned at his words and touch as Hyunjin observed you, moving his fingers so slowly, barely touching you and you whimpered, struggling against your restraints, your legs trying to close to get some friction but you were stuck.

"Patience, my darling. Je tiens à toi." he whispered as he kneeled in front of your pussy, his hot breath hitting you and making you clench around nothing. Hyunjin leaned in and kissed your pussy, teasing you and making your legs shake as you whined for him to give you more. He ignored your whimpers and kept leaving small kisses on your lower lips before he put his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly.

"Hyunjin!" you whimpered as arousal gushed from you. "M-more." you begged, your hands grabbing at the restraints holding them. Your legs were already trembling and he didn't even do anything, you were turned on like never before, the way he had you posed for him made you want to burst.

Hyunjin licked at your entrance, his tongue playful and skilled, making you moan loudly again as your body trembled, shaking the entire swing just a little. You threw your head back as Hyunjin started making out with your pussy, your breasts trembling as you kept shivering. Hyunjin gripped at your thighs and ass, massaging it and enjoying your taste and the view.

He had always admired the way your body could contort and he didn't even dare to dream of laying a hand on you, the ethereal being flying in the sky. But here you were, suspended in air and spread beatifully just for him to enjoy you. Hyunjin's eyes rolled back as your entire body shook against his lips and he moaned into you, his brows furrowing as he slurped up your essence. Your orgasm hit you like a wave that crashed into Hyunjin's tongue as he savored the sweet taste of you, lapping up every drop.

"You taste so sweet, my muse." Hyunjin licked around his lips before kissing your pussy again.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered, tears of pleasure already gathered in your eyes.

"Shh, I got you." his fingertips slid between your folds before he slowly pushed two fingers in, your pussy taking him easily. You moaned at the feeling of being filled up as Hyunjin leaned over you while slowly fucking you open, his other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. He lifted your head up a little and kissed you passionately, pushing his tongue in deep and making you taste yourself as he took your breath away. He fucked you faster as he kept kissing you, swallowing every moan you were letting out. Your legs were shaking again, trying to close around his arm from all the stimulation but you couldn't move.

"Ah!" you parted from his lips only to moan against them as you squirted on Hyunjin's hand.

"Good girl." he smirked and you whimpered as he leaned down to kiss your face, helping you come down a little.

"Mon cœur, I need you to prep me a little." he smirked, walking around the swing to stand behind you. You gasped quietly when you realized what he wanted to do so you let your head fall backwards. Hyunjin smirked, standing closer to your face as he pressed the tip of his cock on your lips. You opened them and he slowly pushed in as much as he could, fucking your face gently as he held the back of your neck, his other hand cupping your breasts and playing with your sensitive nipples. Your eyes were shut tightly as you relaxed your throat and Hyunjin groaned, the feeling of your warm and wet mouth around him and the sight of you surrendering completely to him drove him insane. He pushed in and out a few more times, hands gripping your breasts harder.

"Fuck." he gasped, pulling out. "I almost came." he added, looking surprised. You coughed a little, lifting your head up.

"Are you okay, darling?" he asked.

"Yes, please, I need you." you looked up at him with glassy eyes and how was he supposed to deny you? Hyunjin positioned himself between your legs, pushing his cock in slowly so you could feel him stretching you inch by inch and you whimpered at how easily he slid in, with you being so opened.

"Hyunjin." you moaned his name as he buried himself to the hilt within your warmth.

"My angel. You feel perfect. Made for me." he looked at you like you were everything as his large hands gripped at you, his hips starting to move.

"Made for you." you repeated in trance as Hyunjin started fucking you harder, losing himself in the feeling of you taking him so well. Your body was burning up, shaking and sweating as you moaned loudly, no one had ever been this deep inside you, hit all the places that Hyunjin has. The swing was moving slightly in tandem with the two of you, aiding to the feeling of Hyunjin splitting you apart.

Your head fell back as you moaned loudly at him hitting your sweet spot and Hyunjin shook, gripping at you. You let out a loud whimper as you came, exploding around his length and squirting on him again.

"Y/n." Hyunjin groaned as he pulled out, grabbing at the swing and breathing hard.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked breathlessly.

"Want you in another position before I cum." he smirked.

"Okay." you nodded, your heart beating out of your chest. Hyunjin then carefully removed the restraints from your legs, letting them fall down and relax a little before he did the same for your arms.

"Feeling good?" he asked and you nodded with a smile. His cock was red and throbbing, you knew he was close yet he didn't chase his high instantly, he still took a moment to take care of you. Your heart swelled and all you wanted was to give him pleasure like he gave to you.

"How do you want me?" you asked.

Instead of answering, Hyunjin turned you around, spreading your legs and securing them in the restraints. You let out a breath as he tied your hands next. Your feet were just barely touching the floor, your legs spread again as you shivered, looking back at Hyunjin to see him stroking his cock slowly.

"Ready to take me, mon cœur?" he asked.

"Yes."

Hyunjin slowly pushed in again, giving all of his length to you as you took him in greedily. He gripped at your hips, fucking into your harder and faster than before. Your loud whimpers together with the loud sound of skin slapping skin brought Hyunjin close to the edge immediately. He grabbed at your hair, pulling your head back as you arched your back for him while he pounded into you.

"So good, so perfect, ma chérie. You're so perfect." he kept mumbling and groaning while he fucked you, his free hand slapping your ass a few times. You exploded around him again and Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your breasts as he came, pushing his warm cum deep inside your core.

"H-Hyunjin." you moaned.

"Y/n." he whispered, kissing your neck as he slid out of you, his cum dripping down your inner thigh. He held onto you for a moment before carefully getting you out of the swing and scooping you up in his arms.

Hyunjin took you straight to the shower, running warm soothing water over the two of you.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" he smiled at you as he held your face in his palms.

"More than okay." you nodded with a smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you for trusting me." Hyunjin kissed your cheeks gently.

"Of course." you kissed his pouty lips, completely forgetting about the pain living inside you.

As the snow outside started melting away, the ice around your heart melted too, turning into an avalanche that struck at the wall around Hyunjin's heart, making it crumble and leaving him unprotected, both of you now vulnerable and open to each other.

There was hope for the future, for your future.

The days got longer as the sun traveled higher in the sky, everything was waking up, all the birds, insects and flowers were finally coming to life, thriving in the warmth of the spring.

You had taken a little walk after getting some groceries you needed for tonight, as you'd be cooking for Hyunjin at his apartment. You had originally planned for him to come to your place but he had insisted on helping you with dinner even when you were adamant on doing it alone.

Along your walk you picked up some flowers for Hyunjin, seeing how he loved painting them all the time, almost as much as he loved painting you.

"Hyunnie, I'm here." you announced as you walked into his apartment but there was no answer.

"Hyunjin?" you repeated his name as you walked into the living room. You heard some faint music coming from his room behind the closed doors and you recognized the music as his 'painting music'. With a smile spreading on your face, you made your way to his room, carrying the flowers.

When you opened the door, you were met with the cutest sight ever. Hyunjin was sitting cross-legged on the floor, right in front of a big canvas, various brushes and paints thrown around him, his hair in a half up-do as he concentrated.

"Oh, y/n." Hyunjin jumped a little when he felt your presence. You giggled at him endearingly, noticing a streak of yellow paint on his cheek.

"You have paint on your left cheek." you said and Hyunjin reached up to wipe at his right cheek.

"Left cheek." you snickered.

"Oh." Hyunjin chuckled in embarrassment, wiping at his face.

"You're just spreading it everywhere now." you laughed, shaking your head.

"Stop laughing and come help me." he pouted cutely and you couldn't resist him. You grabbed some wet wipes and came closer to him and he pulled you into his lap immediately.

"Nice." he smirked.

"Oh, this was your plan all along, to get me into your lap?" you smirked back.

"Mhm." Hyunjin nuzzled into you, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

"What are you working on?" you asked as you started to turn around.

"No, don't look! It's not done yet." he quickly grabbed your face, making you look at him and squishing your cheeks as you whined. "It's for my new exhibition and it's a gift for you and you can't look at it until it's finished."

"Okay, okay, I won't look." you chuckled, grabbing his hands and kissing his fingertips softly.

"Did someone give you flowers?" Hyunjin's eyes widened a little as he nodded at the bouquet you had left on his table when you grabbed the wet wipes.

"No silly, I got those for you." you pressed your lips on his forehead.

"You got me flowers?" he blinked at you cutely.

"Yeah, I just thought they were pretty and you like to paint them so..." you trailed off, your cheeks becoming rosy.

"That's so sweet, mon cœur. Thank you." Hyunjin smiled, his dimples showing.

"You're welcome, mon chéri." you smirked and he laughed, throwing his head back.

"Someone has been studying their French." he joked, brushing his lips against yours.

"Maybe, just a little bit." you giggled before Hyunjin closed the small gap between you, kissing you sweetly. The kiss got heated quickly as always between the two of you and you broke it off as Hyunjin's hands started to wander.

"We have plans, remember?" you narrowed your eyes at him and he smiled cheekily.

"Ugh, just a quick one." he teased you, his hands sliding under your shirt.

"Quick does not exist with you, it's always hours." you laughed and Hyunjin chuckled with you.

"Can you blame me? It's your fault." he stuck his tongue out and you giggled.

"Right." you rolled your eyes. "Let's get ready, we have all night later."

"Okay." Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you but still didn't let you get up, not after he got a few more kisses from you.

You managed to get ready after some time and Hyunjin drove to your destination. You always wanted to try bowling and Hyunjin was always excited for active dates, enjoying the thrill and the competition that would lead from teasing to something more.

"Oh, this is really heavy." you struggled as you tried to pick up the ball.

"The beginners one is lighter, let's get you started with that one." Hyunjin said and you nodded, excited to learn something new.

Hyunjin was a good teacher, he was patient and sweet but he also teased you the entire time. Every little touch was purposeful, he made sure to press his body against yours any moment he could, making you shiver as you were always weak for him. Even with all that you had managed to come close to a strike a few times.

Hyunjin was skilled, hitting all the pins perfectly almost every single time. All the work out made you both hungry and you were ready to go home and start on the dinner you had planned. When you got closer to the exit, you noticed it was raining hard outside and neither of you remembered to bring an umbrella, not when Hyunjin drove you there. But, the car was at the end of the parking lot, meaning you'd have to gun it to get there and you'd still get soaked.

You smirked in mischief as Hyunjin turned to look at you.

"What?" he asked.

"Catch me if you can." you chuckled as you pulled open the door and bolted outside.

"Y/n!" Hyunjin squealed in shock, his eyes wide and lips falling open. You laughed at his expression as you started running towards his car.

He shook his head as a smile spread on his face before he ran outside too, the parking lot filled with squeals and laughter. Hyunjin was quickly coming closer and you screamed as he reached out to grab you but before he could, he slipped and fell down right into a puddle of water.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you gasped, running back to him immediately.

"I keep falling for you." he said, shaking the water off like a dog as he slowly stood up.

"Cheesy." you laughed at the state of him and Hyunjin couldn't resist you, grabbing your face as the two of you stood in the rain, completely soaked.

"I'm so in love with you, y/n." Hyunjin said when you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, your heart leaping out of your chest.

"I'm so in love with you too." you confessed and Hyunjin smiled happily, crashing his lips on yours. You didn't care about the cold rain drenching the both of you because it had washed away any fear you had in your heart.

"I'm in love with you, y/n!" Hyunjin yelled to no one in particular as you parted.

"Shut up, oh my god." you laughed, trying to cover his lips but he kept moving his head away and laughing as he yelled about being in love.

"Hyunnie, we're gonna get sick, let's go." you warned him, pulling him towards the car.

He hurried up then, turning the heating on in the car even though it didn't help much. When you got to his apartment, both of you shed the cold wet clothes and stepped into the shower.

His hands were on your waist instantly as he started kissing your shoulders and upper back. You shivered as you still felt the cold from the rain and Hyunjin pulled you into his body. You closed your eyes, feeling like you were floating away with him. Nothing could hurt you when he held you like this.

"Let me help you with dinner." Hyunjin pouted later, as you got ready to cook.

"No, I want to make this for you. Go paint or something." you chuckled, trying to pry his hands off of you.

"Can't I at least watch?" he kept pouting at you, his arms not budging at your attempts of moving them away.

"No." you smirked, finally slipping away from his grasp as he sighed dramatically.

"Fine, I'll wait in the living room." he said and walked away, sulking. You giggled at him as you started making dinner, humming to yourself. You leaned over a few times to check on Hyunjin and he was sitting on the sofa, watching something on the tv. He looked so cute so you turned the stove off for a moment and skipped to him.

He was about to turn around before you grabbed him and gave him a big smooch right on the top of his head, inhaling the shampoo he used earlier.

"Ma chérie." he leaned his head back to look at you, his cheeks rosy. "Do you need help?"

"No, it's almost done. Just wanted to kiss you." you smiled.

"Kiss me then." he smirked and you leaned in, giving him a sensual upside down kiss.

"I hope this is a teaser for dessert." Hyunjin whispered when you parted.

"Mhm." you chuckled before going back to the kitchen to finish up.

"Something smells nice." Hyunjin strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later, his stomach growling as he clutched onto it. "Is it done?" he tilted his head at you.

"It is." you smiled.

"What did you make?" he asked excitedly as the two of you sat down.

"It's cappelletti filled pasta with homemade meat sauce. I prepared the sauce beforehand, otherwise we'd be sitting here for hours, waiting for it to cook."

"Oh, it sounds delicious." Hyunjin smiled cutely as you took some out on his plate.

You waited for his reaction in anticipation as he brought the pasta to his lips, furrowing his brows and tasting it before his eyes widened and he let out a little hum of approval.

"This is delicious, mon cœur." he smiled.

"Thank you, lover." Hyunjin blushed at the nickname and you matched his rosy cheeks as both of you looked back at your plates.

After the wonderful meal, Hyunjin thanked you again and made you sit down so he could clean up. You wanted to help but he insisted that since you cooked, he should show his appreciation and clean it up. You sat, drinking your wine and observing him. There was something so simple and easy to being with him, you had no problem imagining a future where Hyunjin would be a part of it forever. You needed to hold him so you stood up, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him a little as you leaned your cheek on his back.

"Angel." he smiled.

"Hyunnie." you rubbed your cheek against him.

"I'm done. We can have dessert now." he turned around to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Mhm. Can't wait." you giggled and he led you to his room.

"I have something for you." Hyunjin said, opening the drawer of his nightstand. You chuckled, he was always so imaginative and experimental when it came to anything, even in the bedroom.

"What is it now?" you asked with a knowing smile.

Hyunjin took out a rope and a blindfold and you lifted your brow at him.

"You're tying me up?" you chuckled, your face heating up.

"No, you're tying me up." he smirked at you.

"Oh. I am?" your heart skipped a beat.

"Mhm. I want to be at your mercy, mon cœur." Hyunjin's eyes became hazy.

"Okay." you nodded, coming closer to him. "You want me to have my way with you, use you?" you asked, teasingly touching his abs and chest.

"Yes, please chérie. Use me." he whimpered quietly as you squeezed at his body.

Hyunjin leaned in, kissing you slowly as his tongue circled yours and played with it and you were already getting so wet, wanting to be as close as you could to him. The two of you slowly stripped and Hyunjin laid on the bed, looking up at you lustfully, his eyes fluttering.

He was giving himself to you completely, putting his hands above his head so you could tie him up.

"How long will you manage to take not being able to see me or touch me?" you snickered.

"Not very long." he chuckled at you as you started tying his hands up.

"This should be fun. Close your eyes." you said and he did so, letting you put the blinfold over his eyes. You leaned back and looked at him, your sweet Hyunjin laid out before you, his lean body on display only for you to worship. He was so beautiful everywhere that you had no idea where to start. His plump lips so pouty and pink, invited you to kiss them first so you leaned in and pressed your lips into his. He whimpered quietly when you moved away, his heart beating faster in anticipation of where you were going to touch him.

Your put your hands on his hips and slowly slid them up on his v-line, your thumbs caressing his defined abs. Hyunjin shivered under you, his fingertips digging into the soft ropes instantly. You leaned in closer, letting your breath hit the skin right under his collarbone. Hyunjin took in a sharp inhale as you started kissing him, your lips slowly traveling down towards his happy trail, your tongue darting out occasionally to lick at his skin. Your hair tickled him as you kept going lower. Hyunjin anticipated your lips closer to his dick that was becoming hard for you, but you leaned away, teasing him.

He whined quietly and you giggled, your hands running up his dainty waist to his perky nipples. He groaned louder as you touched them, flicking them with your thumbs before pinching them a few times as you leaned in and kissed his neck. Hyunjin's head fell back as he moaned quietly while you kissed and licked at his skin, sucking on his adam's apple.

"Y/n." he moaned your name, getting more worked up as you teased him with your lips and hands. His hips started lifting up on their own accord, looking for some kind of friction. You kissed his shoulder and his arm, lips traveling to his chest and down again. This time your tongue darted out to play with the happy trail leading to his hard cock.

"Ah!" he moaned, gripping at the rope harder. Your hands squeezed at his hips as you kissed around his cock and bit at the flesh of his inner thighs.

"Ma chérie. Mon petit ange." he moaned out and you giggled breathlessly, hovering over his leaky cock.

"Hyunnie." you whispered before you licked up the pre-cum oozing out of his tip.

"Mm." he moaned, his head falling to the side as you teased at his slit with your tongue. He kept letting out shaky breaths as you played with him before you took him into your mouth, sucking on the tip, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls gently.

"D-darling." Hyunjin stuttered, his hips lifting up into you. You moaned around him, sliding down more as you took him in.

Hyunjin was losing himself quickly, the blindfold seemed to triple his senses, making him even more sensitive to your touches. His hands strained against the ropes as he slowly fucked up into your mouth, making you gag a little.

"Mm, my darling." Hyunjin moaned as you sucked on him faster, your hand wrapping around his length to give him more stimulation. He couldn't control his hips as they snapped up and you felt him twitch inside your mouth but you weren't done with him yet. You leaned back and he whimpered loudly, his body shuddering.

"I'm taking the blindfold off." you whispered as you hovered over him.

"Okay." he was breathless as you leaned over him and pulled the cloth off. He blinked a few times before looking up at you and you didn't even give him any time to adjust as you grabbed his cock and pressed it against your folds. Both of you moaned as you slowly slid down on him until you were filled up completely, his cock buried within you.

"Mm, you feel so good Hyunjin." you moaned, throwing your head back, closing your eyes as your pussy clenched around him.

"You feel perfect, ma chérie. Please, fuck me." he begged, making you whimper as you dripped around his length. You started moving slowly, adjusting to the position and having him buried deep inside you as Hyunjin laid there, letting you use him. He filled you up so perfectly and you lost yourself on top of him, bouncing faster and harder, your hips slapping against his as you threw your head back.

Hyunjin moaned loudly as he watched you fuck on him, your tits bouncing, your beautiful body on top of his, your sweet pussy stuffed full of his cock.

"My goddess. My muse." he whined and your eyes snapped open as you looked at him hungrily. You needed his hands on you and you leaned over him to untie them, bringing his wrists to your lips as you kissed them, slowly circling your hips on him. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky before he wrapped his arms around you as you started bouncing up and down again.

"My lover." you tangled your hands in his hair and Hyunjin moaned loudly, flipping you over and making you squeal in surprise.

"Need you." he mumbled into your neck as he started snapping his hips into yours. You grabbed at his upper back, your nails digging into his skin as you moaned his name loudly. His hand came between you to rub at your clit as his other tangled in your hair, pulling lightly. You unraveld around him and he followed, his hips stuttering as he moaned desperately, rutting into you and riding his high.

"Hyun." you whispered when he leaned his forehead on yours, breathing hard.

"Best dessert ever." he breathed out, making you laugh. You stayed connected for a few more moments as you came down from your high.

"I'll be right back." Hyunjin said before he disappeared to the bathroom and you laid waiting for him, your heart still beating fast. He came back quickly, cleaning you up.

"I'm thirsty." you sat up a little, looking for your panties.

"I'll bring you some water, just sit tight." Hyunjin said while he clumsily put his boxers on, almost falling over as he started jumping on one leg. You giggled from the bed, stealing his shirt and putting it on as he looked at you with playful annoyance. When he came back he stood and looked at you for a moment and you looked up from your phone with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" you asked.

"You look so cute, I could eat you up." Hyunjin smirked as he stalked closer to the bed. Suddenly he started making weird growling noises as he crawled towards you and you squealed, laughing and moving away.

"Stop that!" you laughed as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you to him, making you scream.

"Got ya!" Hyunjin hovered over you, trapping you with his legs as he started tickling your sides.

"Sto-op!" you begged through breathless laughter, trying to push him away as he kept attacking you with his fingertips on your sides and tummy.

You kept laughing as he grinned at you, torturing you until your face became red.

"Ugghhh whyyyy?" you whined when Hyunjin finally calmed down.

"You're just too cute." he smirked, burying his face in your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"So I get attacked?" you whined again and he laughed.

"With tickles and kisses." Hyunjin grabbed your face gently, kissing you lovingly.

"I'm still thirsty." you said and he chuckled.

"Oh, right." he grabbed the forgotten water bottle, giving it to you. "My shirts look so good on you, better than when I wear them." he added.

"I doubt that but thank you." you smirked.

"Are you tired, mon cœur?" Hyunjin asked.

"Mhm." you nuzzled into his pillow and Hyunjin laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms immediately.

"Sweet dreams, darling." he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Your dreams, however were not sweet and you woke up in sweat and panicked as you grabbed at Hyunjin.

"Hyunjin." you whimpered and he hummed a little, his brows furrowed confusedly.

"Hyunjin, wake up." you whispered, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Chérie? What's wrong?" he opened one eye as he looked at you all disheveled and still sleepy, before realizing you were crying, it making his eyes widen as he awakened completely and sat up.

"I- I had a nightmare." you hiccuped, grabbing at his arm.

"What nightmare dares torture my baby?" Hyunjin said as he pulled you closer.

"You were gone. I lost you." you said with pain in your voice as you buried your face in his chest, wanting to just disappear inside his arms, melt into him and become one, be with him always, be safe.

"No, my darling, you'll never lose me. I'm right here. It's okay, shh." he caressed your head as you cried.

"You're not allowed to leave me." you whimpered.

"I won't, y/n. You're stuck with me." Hyunjin said and you looked up at him. He started wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he looked at you with a gentle smile and sparkly eyes.

"Good, I want to be stuck with you." you admitted and his smile widened.

"I think after all the shit life threw at us, we shouldn't waste a chance if we have a good thing. You know I'm in this for the long run, you're not just some random girl or a rebound." he held your face in his hands delicately.

"I agree with you. You're definitely not just some random guy to me either." you said and Hyunjin chuckled, kissing your lips.

"Let's get some sleep. I promise I'll be here."

And Hyunjin was there. Every single performance you had, he'd watch religiously like he did from the moment he found you, cheering for you from the gallery. Only now, you knew he was sitting there so you'd always throw a little wink at him between poses. Hyunjin's heart fluttered every time you did that. He was there when it got tough, when you'd wake up sad and nostalgic, he'd come to you and hold you without any words, sometimes letting you just cry it out if you needed it.

You didn't want to completely throw away the memory of your late husband and Hyunjin never asked you to do that, he only asked you to be there for him like he's been there for you. There was nothing more you wanted than to support him equally, as you came to all his exhibitions like always, and this time they were inspired by you, all the paintings of you dancing were displayed on the wall. 'Up in the air' was the name of the exhibition he worked so hard on, focusing only on you and the art you produced with your body.

Summer had passed blissfully, simmering down into a warm beginning of the next season. The leaves started changing color, nature painting its own canvas as Hyunjin and you painted yours. He felt it in his bones, how much he came to love you so naturally, so easily. Hyunjin couldn't imagine his life without your wonderful presence. You felt the same, like your heart would burst from the love you had for him, something you thought you'd never feel again.

It was a sunny morning after you spent another night at Hyunjin's apartment, the evidence of your presence everywhere. The two wine glasses that you never bothered to wash left on the table as you got busy kissing each other. Your clothes strewn all over the floor of Hyunjin's bedroom. His bed messy, his pillow smelled like your shampoo, his sheets smelled of your perfume and you skin, such a sweet and comforting scent. You sat on the balcony when Hyunjin opened his eyes, looking for your body instantly. You woke up way too early, admiring his sleeping form for a while, wondering how a man this beautiful was lying next to you. You got up then, made some coffee and wanted to stand on the balcony, breathing in the fresh morning air, your heart full as you felt like you were reborn again.

Hyunjin sat up, rubbing at his eyes before he noticed you standing outside. He was pulled in immediately, following your footsteps to his balcony. You turned around when he opened the glass door, both of you smiling at each other.

"Good morning." you said.

"Good morning." Hyunjin's voice was raspy from sleeping.

"There's some coffee in the pot." you said but he came closer to you, lifting your hand with the coffee cup to his lips as he took a sip, making you chuckle and roll your eyes playfully.

His arms wrapped around you in a familiar, comforting embrace. Something inside you swelled, gnawing its way up from your stomach to your throat to the tip of your tongue. You burst at the seams as you turned to look at Hyunjin.

"I love you." you said with a breath of relief, with a flutter of your heart, with everything you had within you. Hyunjin's eyes went wide as he teared up slightly, his lips trembling.

"I love you." he said, smiling brighter than the sun, his confession carrying a promise of forever.

You giggled, eliciting a giggle from him too before the two of you started laughing in relief, in happiness, in excitement.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" you smiled as you looked back at the view of the city and Hyunjin's arms tightened around you.

"Move to Paris with me." Hyunjin said suddenly and you almost choked on air as you turned to look at him.

"W-what?" you chuckled in disbelief, putting your cup aside as your hand trembled.

"Let's buy a little house in Paris, somewhere in the countryside, have a garden. We could have a studio there where you can dance and I can paint. We can live on bread and wine for all I care. I'll teach you French, we'll be happy there. Let's leave this fucking city filled with too many memories and make our own in the city of love."

"Hyunjin, that's - isn't that sudden?" your stomach started doing flips as he looked at you excitedly.

"Life is short, you know that. Let's not waste any second and do whatever we want. What do you say?" he grabbed your face, smiling at you sweetly.

"Fuck it, let's move to Paris." you said and he laughed happily, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, spinning you around until you were both dizzy.

"Je t'aime, mon cœur." Hyunjin held onto you tightly.

"I love you too."

Your feet may have touched the ground physically when Hyunjin put you down, but your soul was still floating, wrapped up in his love.

The fireplace was crackling, casting a warm hue over Hyunjin's smiling face. He poked at the fire absentmindedly as he sat on the soft carpet while you watched him, leaning on the door frame. You still had to get used to the complete change of the scenery; seeing endless fields of green grass out of your window was something completely different than the bustling city view you used to find comfort in.

As if sensing your presence, Hyunjin turned to look at you, his smile deepening, the sweet lovesick look on his face ever-present.

"Had a nice bath?" he asked, putting the fire poker aside.

"Mhm." you slowly made your way to him, and Hyunjin's heart jumped in his throat when his eyes caught site of you bare legs under the silky robe you were wearing.

"I finished washing the dishes." he said, staring at your plushy thighs as you came closer to him.

He looked up at you in awe, his eyes big and pleading as his lips parted. You smirked a little, untying the knot on the robe before you opened it up slowly to reveal a red lacy set you had put on after your bath.

"Oh. Wow." he gulped while you let the robe slowly slide down to the floor. "Y/n." Hyunjin turned to you, kneeling on the rug, his hands coming up to touch your smooth skin and grip at your flesh. His eyes became hazy instantly as he circled his arms around you, gripping at your backside while his lips pressed on your skin. Hyunjin kissed your thighs gently as he kept massaging your ass, his face coming closer to your dripping core. You tangled your hand in his hair, caressing him and patting him as your breathing got deeper.

"My goddess." Hyunjin whispered, lips ghosting on the skin right above your panties.

"Hyunjin." you whispered back, tightening the hold in his hair as he kissed the lace, tracing his lips to your clit. You spread your legs just a little, enough for him to lick at you with his tongue, making you tremble against him while he kissed and licked at your clit, tasting your arousal on his tongue.

A whimper of his name left your lips as he gripped at your hips and pressed his tongue harder against you, hungry to have more of you. Your legs buckled and Hyunjin gently pulled you down into his lap and you sat with your legs wrapped around him, your core pressing into his, making you moan.

"Let me have you, my muse." his hands slid up and down on your thighs. "Give yourself to me." he laid you down on the carpet as the fireplace kept crackling next to you.

"Take me." you whispered and he kissed you hungrily, his hands on your breasts, squeezing and worshipping, desperate and loving, driving you completely insane. He pressed his body against yours, kissing you harder, taking all your breath away from your lungs.

You grabbed at him like he was the only thing keeping you afloat, keeping your head above the deep water.

"Ah, my angel. Mon amour." Hyunjin whined against your skin as he kissed and nipped at your breasts.

"Lover." you breathed out, pulling on his hair a little as he gently played with your clit, the lace getting soaked with your slick as your pussy clenched around nothing.

"Mm." Hyunjin wrapped his lips around your nipple, still covered by the lace as he swiped his tongue over it repeatedly, making you shake against him.

You dug your nails into his arm, your other hand still tangled in your hair as he continued moving his fingers faster and sucking harder, bringing you to the edge as you came in your panties with his name on your lips.

"Oh." you gasped and Hyunjin giggled.

"That was fast." he smirked.

"Shut up." your face became red in embarrassment and Hyunjin looked proud.

"Relax mon cœur, I'm just as desperate for you." he whispered, grabbing your hand and leaving gentle kisses. He kissed your neck, marking you as his as his pretty fingers dipped teasingly between your folds, your wetness seeping through the lace. Hyunjin kept touching you like he was in a trance, lips traveling down to your breasts again and then your stomach until his breath hit your core. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked at them, moaning quietly.

"The sweetest fruit." he smirked before putting his lips on your lower ones, licking at you like he was thirsty for your juice. You jolted as your eyes rolled back, your legs falling open completely and hands by your sides as you dug your fingers into the carpet underneath you.

"H-Hyunjin!" you kept shaking and trembling against him as he licked at you, the lace now completely wet so he pushed it aside, sticking his tongue inside you and making you whimper loudly as you grabbed at his hair. Hyunjin moaned into your pussy, his body shaking too as you drove him crazy with your moans and reactions. He pushed his pants and underwear down, grabbing his throbbing cock and stroking himself as he ate you out while you pushed his head harder into you.

"Ah fuck!" you groaned as you exploded, cumming on his tongue and lips hard and Hyunjin moaned, gripping his cock to stop himself from finishing too early as he lapped up your juices.

"Mm, my love." he leaned back to get rid of his clothes. "I need to feel you around me."

"Please." you whimpered.

"You never have to beg, I'll give you anything you want, ma chérie." Hyunjin pressed his tip against you and you pulled him in closer with your legs. He smirked and grabbed them both, pushing them together and leaning them on his shoulder. You whimpered when his tip breached you, the position making you more tight for him.

"So tight." his eyes rolled back as he pushed in deeper. "You take me so well every time."

"Mm." your arched into him as he filled you up completely, his cock throbbing inside your pussy.

"Fuck me, Hyunjin." you moaned and he gripped at your legs, fucking into you hard. You couldn't help the loud whimpers escaping your lips as his hips pounded into you. His hands left imprints in your thighs as he fucked you and kissed your calf and foot, sucking on your toes shortly and moaning around them. You couldn't hold it in much longer, squirting around his length as he looked at you, his hips stuttering too.

He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in as he spread your legs and laid down on top of you.

"I don't wanna cum yet." Hyunjin caressed your waist, your hands holding the back of his neck as you brought him closer, leaving soft kisses everywhere on his face, his jaw, his lips and his neck. He gasped and moaned quietly, straining his neck as you licked and suckes on his skin, marking him.

"Let's take it slow." he whispered, kissing the spot under your ear.

"Yes, I want to feel you." you moaned and Hyunjin started moving his hips slowly as he looked at you with eyes full of love.

"How glad I am that I walked into the theater that one evening." he smiled, gently massaging your breasts.

"Probably as much as I'm glad I walked into your gallery randomly." you smiled back at him as you played with his hair and touched his cheeks.

"La vie sans toi est inimaginable." he whispered.

"I can't imagine my life without you either." you whispered back and Hyunjin smiled lovingly at you. You don't know how long you indulged in each other, whispering sweet nothings and giving each other soft kisses. The fire died down just a little as you reached your high, both of you moaning "I love you's" in each other's ears.

Getting lost in one another's embrace in the quiet and intimate atmosphere, lying in the precious, blissful happiness was rewarding every time.

"The fire has almost died." you chuckled quietly.

"I'll make sure it always keeps burning." Hyunjin smiled at you and you giggled kissing him silly.

The first snowflakes fell down gently on your cheeks as you and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the sparkly christmas lights of the busy Parisian street. People were walking and laughing around you, the world was turning round and round, it was all a blur as the two of you only saw each other, completely infatuated with the moment.

"It's been exactly a year since we drank Alsatian wine in my studio together." Hyunjin said as he turned his body towards yours.

"Really?" you chuckled, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment of not knowing the exact date but Hyunjin counted every beautiful second spent with you.

"Yes. We should celebrate that." he smiled cutely at you, his eyes turning into slits and his dimples showing.

"I agree." you smiled. "We should visit Alsace too."

"Of course. We can go wherever we want, ma chérie." Hyunjin gently touched your cheek and leaned in to kiss you.

"I love you." you whispered against his lips.

"I love you." Hyunjin giggled, his cheeks becoming rosy. "I know this is like a spur of a moment thing, but it feels right." he added and you looked at him questioningly.

"Spend the rest of your life with me." he smiled, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Hwang Hyunjin, are you asking me to marry you?" you giggled, your heart speeding up.

"I am. Will you?" his eyes widened into an innocent puppy look he always gave you when he wanted something and you laughed in delight.

"Of course I will. There's no other way I'd rather live than to grow old with you." you clutched at him and he pulled you into a loving kiss, both of you giggling in happiness as the bright lights of the Eiffel Tower sparkled behind your bodies.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @eastjonowhere @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz

[annievrse]

built a fire just to keep you warm

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: it's zoro's birthdayyyy!!! w/c: 1.6k c/w: suggestive, non-sexual intimacy a/n: happy birthday to my favourite strawhat <3 (i kinda hate this rah)

"Zoro will like your present."

You jolt at the sudden voice of your captain before turning your head and glaring at him suspiciously. "Okay..."

Luffy laughs and jumps onto the rail of the sunny, his eyes wide with mischief.

You can practically hear Nami rolling her eyes from where she lays beside you on the deck. "Eavesdropping is rude, Luffy."

Your captain blinks once, twice, before he sits down. "Not eavesdropping if you're being loud."

Before Nami can wring his neck, Robin speaks up, a smug smile gracing her face. "He's not wrong."

"What do you know?" You look at your captain with doubt.

"Nothing," Luffy shrugs. "I just know he'll like it."

Sighing, you shove your sunglasses on top of your hair. "You better not tell him what it is."

"I'm gonna tell Sanji," Luffy ignores you and giggles as his feet hit the ground.

"Luffy!" You start, panic rising up your throat as you sit up from your sun lounge. "Wait—"

"Birthdays mean meat! Sanji's gonna cook a feast!"

But before you or Nami can stop him, Luffy's running toward the galley, footfalls heavy on the wood.

"He's a moron," Nami mumbles. "He won't tell Zoro."

You hum, your stomach turning with anxiety. "What if he doesn't like my present?"

"This is Zoro we're talking about," Nami chimes in. "He'd be happy with a bottle of sake."

You want to tell her it means more to you than that but think against it when familiar footsteps round the corner.

"There you are," His voice is rough like gravel but his words are like honey. Your swordsman stands over you, the sun spilling around him. "When did you wanna show me the thing you were talking about?"

Beside you, Nami gags and Robin titters, both choosing to pretend not to listen in on your conversation.

"Uh," you look at the girls and then back to him. "Now?"

"Works for me."

But before you can stand, Zoro leans forward and wraps his arm around your torso, lifting you up and under his arm like a damn plank of wood. The girls wave it off like it's a daily occurrence (it is) and return to their peaceful silence.

"Zo—"

He turns around, and you grip his waist, your body parallel to the ground. His skin is sticky with sweat but warm under your touch, and you guess he just finished a workout.

Hiking you up his hip, Zoro squints into the sun. "Where are we going?"

Sighing deeply, you peer up at him. "My room."

Humming, he takes a sharp right and descends the stairs to the girl's quarters. "Whatcha got hiding down here?"

"Secret."

Zoro pauses before the door and sets you on your feet. You stand up, shouldering his bicep to get to the door handle.

Zoro makes a beeline for your bed while you rummage through the chest at the end of your mattress. The springs squeak as he lays down, his broad shoulders and thick thighs taking up most of the space on your bed.

You peek at him when you finally find what you're looking for and admire him momentarily. Your beautiful hunk of a man, with his scarred skin and calloused hands, his musky man smell and hard muscles.

"Okay," You say, hiding the secret behind your back. "Close your eyes."

"Do I really—" Zoro gives upon complaining when he sees the look on your face. "Fine."

You clamber onto the bed, throwing your leg over him to straddle his hips. Zoro makes a throaty sound at the feeling of you on top of him but goes no further. With his hands behind his head, his biceps bulge.

"Ready?" You ask, voice soft.

At the tone of your voice, Zoro relaxes his hard expression and moves his hands to your thighs. "Yeah."

Inhaling deeply, you place your hands in front of you. "Open."

One dark eye cracks open at your demand, and then it widens. "Wha—"

Sheepish, you push the small figure into his chest. "Happy Birthday."

Zoro sits up, circling one arm around you to keep you steady in his lap. "You made this?"

Giggling at his reaction, you nod. "Do you like it?"

In his hands lays a small wooden letter, the initial of your first name. Pulling the necklace around your neck out from under your top, you lift it up, and the Z on the end of the chain shines in the reflection of the sun in the waves.

"Now we match."

Zoro laughs gruffly, his fingertips running over the carved edges of the initial.

As he stares at it, he reminisces the time he searched a random island high and low to find a present for you. When the thin gold chain with a Z-shaped pendant no bigger than your fingernail hanging from it caught his eye, he knew it was perfect.

A Z-shaped pendant, not because he owns you, but because he knows you. And now you're giving this to him, your initial carved by your own hand in wood, he knows you know him too.

"Sap," Zoro chides, his tone holding no malice. "When did we get so mushy?"

You laugh, holding his cheeks in your hands. His thank you hangs in his tone. "You can hang it from your scabbard if you like, I can put a string in it."

Zoro groans, placing the figure on the bed before wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body flush against his. "You're so cute."

"You were cute first," You say, pressing your lips against his. Zoro's cheeks are warm to the touch, and as you pull away, you swear you glimpse a glassy eye before he closes it. "I adore you, Zo."

Zoro kisses you again, his mouth moving feverishly. His hands roam your body mercilessly, and before you know it, you're on your back, his hips pinning you to the bed.

"I love you," He breathes into your mouth, his nose brushing yours. He says the words like a prayer; if he muttered them any louder, some unknown force would wake him up, and he'd find that everything you are is false. "I love you more than anything."

Tears prick your eyes, and you smile wetly. Zoro's fingers dance on your cheeks, his elbows supporting his weight on either side of your head.

There's nothing left to say. Zoro uses the words very sparingly and never before anyone besides you. Life as a pirate with as big a bounty as him is dangerous and terrifying, and if anything were to happen to you, he doesn't know how he'd go on.

"Mosshead!"

The banging on the door has Zoro groaning. "What, moron?"

"If you don't get out of the ladies' room in the next 2 seconds, I'll kick your ass!''

"I'll slice you in two if you don't shut up."

You smile up at him as he draws you from the bed, his hand large and warm in yours.

"Zo," You mumble, reaching your hand to rest on the nape of his neck. You pull him down and kiss him one last time. "Don't kill him, Luffy asked him for a feast."

Rolling his eye, Zoro scoffs. "Fuckin' cook."

The door slams against the wall as Sanji storms in. "Your feast is ready."

Zoro pauses and turns toward Sanji. "My feast?"

"Well, it's your birthday, isn't it?"

A smirk breaks across Zoro's face. "Yeah, yeah, it is."

You have to suppress your laugh, your hand coming to cover your smile. Luffy stands in the doorway with a bright, salivating grin.

"Well," Sanji says. "Get up there and eat!"

Luffy cheers from the hallway, his arms stretching to the entrance at the end before his body flings away. "Meat!"

"Thank you, Sanji," You smile, resting your hand on his arm. "It means a lot."

The cook's eyes turn into literal hearts at you. "Anything for you, my love, even if that is making mosshead a feast."

A haughty laugh comes from the back of Zoro's throat. He doesn't dignify Sanji with a response to his dig and leads you out of the room.

Upon entering the galley, the entire crew sits in anticipation, Luffy barely containing himself from the food before him.

Zoro pulls a chair out for you and then sits in the one beside you. The rest of the crew takes that as a cue to begin eating and before you know it, plates are passed around you at a rapid pace.

The galley is in an uproar of yells and laughter, but when Zoro places his hand on your thigh, you feel like the only two in the room. He laughs at something Usopp says and takes a sip of sake, his cheeks pink and demeanour laid back. The sight makes your heart swell.

With most of the crew knowing not to make a big deal of Zoro's birthday, much to his pleasure, it's a night that has you reeling in emotion at the sheer familiarity of the people around you. They know you, and they know your swordsman, and there's nobody else you'd rather laugh with, have arguments with, get annoyed with, and love as family than them.

When Zoro places his cup down, he leans into you, his lips against your ear as he whispers things that have you giggling and your skin tingling. He's usually not this outright with his emotions. Still, perhaps your comforting warmth has him unwinding, splitting himself open for his crew, his family, to see, and it's a rare sight that you'll cherish for the rest of eternity.

"To Zoro!" Luffy yells as he clambers to stand on the table. His laugh echoes through the room, and the rest of your family is joining in with him. Everyone holds up their cups and repeats the words.

"To you," You giggle, clinking your cup against his. But Zoro's quick to toss the alcohol aside and pull you into him, kissing you like you're air, and he's a man drowning.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I keep rereading the overprotective poly marauders fic I love it sm 🫶 can I please request another one it can tie into casual dominance marauders if you want I don’t mind I just can’t get them off my mind. Thanks babe!!

Hi lovely!! So this went a bit off the rails, I had different intentions for it at first but then somehow it became very serious and the boys not so much overprotective as reasonably upset....all in all, I'm not super happy with it but I didn't want to throw it out, I'd be happy to write another overprotective one for you if you'd like!

cw: sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You walk out of your office feeling odd and off-kilter. Your mind seems addled, unable to complete one thought before jumping to the next, and something prickles just underneath your skin that feels like anger and shame and also like panic. 

Your boyfriends are waiting for you, idling at the curb. You’re supposed to go straight from here to the cinema, and you tell yourself you’ll feel better afterwards. Even if not, you have until Monday before you have to deal with this, if you deal with it at all. You may not. You’re not sure. You can’t think straight. 

“Hey, angel,” James says as you get in, and it’s immediately obvious your upset has already been noticed. Probably as soon as you walked outside, your boyfriends observing you through the car windows. Remus, in the driver’s seat, and Sirius, sitting beside you in the back, are both charily silent. “How was work?” 

“It was fine,” you reply. Your voice sounds off even to your own ears, but no one comments as Remus puts the car in drive. 

“Ready for the weekend?” James imbues his voice with a light sort of commiseration. You try to smile for him. 

No one is more surprised than you when a sob chokes you instead. You hide your face in your hands, tears already leaking out from between your lashes. 

“God, sorry.” 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sirius asks, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for you.

Remus pulls into a parking spot just by the exit and shuts off the engine, turning around in his seat.

“Baby.” Sirius wraps his arm around your shaking shoulders, squeezing tight. He sounds anxious. “Did something happen?” 

The worst of your crying passes like a summer storm, over as quickly as it started. Your emotions gone haywire. You lean into Sirius, and he clicks the buckle on your seatbelt for you, pulling you the rest of the way. 

“You’re scaring me,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline. “Tell us why you’re upset, angel, please.” 

“I think,” you mumble, face and eyes burning, “my boss grabbed my butt.” 

You say it quieter than a whisper, but you know they’ve all heard. The silence that follows is so complete you could hear a pin drop. 

“What?” James asks. His throat sounds dry. 

You hear Remus sigh. “Oh, sweetheart.” The vinyl of his seat squeaks as he shifts. “When did this happen?” 

“Just now,” you answer. 

“Right.” Sirius’ arms had gone tense around you, but now they fall away completely. He moves for his door. “I’ll be back.” 

“Don’t,” you plead. You worry he will anyway, but Remus locks the doors from the front seat. 

Sirius cuts a glare his way, truly scary with the way wrath seems to gleam in his gray irises. He unlocks his door manually, and Remus locks it again. 

“We can’t be rash,” he says, his own tone sharper than you think is intended for anyone in the car. “We have to think this through.” 

“What’s there to think about?” Sirius snaps. James reaches behind his seat, taking your hand and rubbing comfortingly. “He’s just inside!” 

“You think I don’t want to go in there too?” Remus gives him a look that’s a short fall from incredulous. “But if we have to call the police, it won’t help if you’ve already had a go at him.” 

Your head spins. You hadn’t even thought of calling the police. You hadn’t really gotten past going to the cinema. 

“What do you mean, you think he grabbed you, sweetheart?” James' voice is pointedly kinder than the others. Remus takes a deep breath, calming himself. 

“I don’t know. I just—I feel like I can’t be sure—” 

“That’s alright.” Remus' voice is slower now. Soothing. “Why don’t you tell us how it happened?” 

“I, um.” You swallow. James strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “I was looking at something on his computer, because he said he wasn’t getting my emails and I thought they might be going to his spam. He was sitting behind me in his chair, and we were talking and his hand, like, squeezed—” you shudder, your brain trying to shake off the memory “—and then he just kept talking like nothing happened. It was so fast I’m not sure it even did—” 

“Baby.” 

You don’t realize you’re tripping over your words until Sirius’ voice cuts through them. You look at him, and his eyes are already on yours, fierce but solid. 

“Did you feel him touch you?” he asks. 

You rub your lips together. “Yeah,” you murmur. 

Your boyfriend’s expression pinches, but his gaze is steady. “Then he did. Trust yourself. You know what happened.” 

This provokes another wave of tears, less tempestuous than the first but somehow more painful. You wouldn't have expected any one of your boyfriends to blame you, not if you’d thought about it, but you haven’t had time to think yet and the relief that they’re so wholly on your side makes your heart feel cracked open. 

“Dove, I’m so sorry,” Remus says. He’s frowning, a well-worn line etched between his brows. You hate to put it there. “What do you want to do? Do you know if you can contact HR?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, pliable to Sirius’ ministrations as he tucks you securely under one arm and uses the other to thumb at your salty cheeks. “I feel a bit silly. It was a small thing, I don’t think it’s worth a bunch of fuss.” 

“It’s not a small thing,” says James, uncharacteristically severe. “It’s a big thing—a really fucked up thing, that he did—and it’s worth a lot of fuss. A lot.” He leans around his seatback, pressing a firm kiss to your hand. “It’s just a matter of how much fuss you’re willing to go through with, sweetheart. It’s up to you. We can go through HR, we can go to the police. There’s still the option of just going in there and roughing him up to be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He smiles wryly. It looks like it takes effort. “I’m very game for that option. We know Sirius is ready.” 

Sirius makes an affirming humph sound against the side of your head. You try to smile back at James. 

“I think maybe…HR?” Your voice is tentative. “I have a friend, Marcella, who I think would be nice about it.” You realize as it comes out of your mouth what a low bar that is, but that’s the reality of your situation. 

“Do you know if she’s still here?” Remus asks. 

You feel your brow wrinkle. “I think so…” 

Remus unlocks the doors, and James gets out. You barely manage to squeak out a “Wait” before the door shuts behind him. 

You turn to Remus. “Where’s he going?” 

“To find Marcella,” he says. “It’s better that they know when it’s just happened, dovey, but you don’t have to deal with it right now. That’s why James is going instead.” 

You nod. It makes sense, even if the reality of it all makes tears press at your throat again. 

“My sweet girl.” Sirius holds you tight, mashing a kiss into the side of your head. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby. I’m sorry we weren’t there to protect you.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him properly. He seems pleased with this development, and squeezes you ferociously. “You can’t always be with me. And it’s not your responsibility.” 

“Careful what you say.” Sirius seems to muster up some humor, a teasing edge to his tone. “I’ll get us one of those big shirts so the four of us can fit in it together, and then you’ll never be rid of us.” 

“It’s our job to look after you,” says Remus, firm but kind. “It’s true we can’t be with you all of the time, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us this. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

You’re about to dismiss his thanks when James gets back in the car, this time in the back seat instead of the front. 

“Did you see him?” Sirius asks immediately, scooching the both of you over to make room. 

“No, he must’ve left right after her.” James looks unhappy, but his touch is gentle as always as he takes your waist in both hands, easing you off of Sirius’ lap and into the seat between them. Sirius sighs but doesn’t complain, likely knowing he’s had more than his fair share of your comfort. 

“Marcella was nice, though,” James says. “She arranged for you to have the morning off on Monday, and she’ll call you then to hear from you what happened. We can be with you, if you like.” 

“Monday.” You blow out a slow breath, though it doesn’t do much to keep your throat from contracting in panic. “Okay, that sounds good. Thank you.” 

“No worries, angel.” James rubs your thigh, watching you carefully. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Your voice squeaks, and you cover your eyes with a hand. Sirius whines and kisses your shoulder. You try to laugh, but it comes out wet. “I think this might just keep happening for a while.” 

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Remus coos, reaching out a hand to set on the top of your head. He scratches at your scalp with his fingernails the way he knows you like. “It makes sense to be upset. We’ll get you through this, alright? Let us look after you for a bit.”